As far as he had always been concerned, at the grand old age of eight, with all the wisdom that entailed, to the Heir to the Schnee Dust Company money was magically generated by his father's company. He had a mental picture of money, what it looked like but was hard pressed to explain where such an image came from, because he couldn't recall ever holding it, touching it, or using it.

Of course he knew how money worked. People needed things like clothes, food, homes, and money was an agreed upon commodity that helped people get all these things. There was a limit to everything, but people could trade money around for what they needed. And if they didn't have it, they could just work for it.

But the boy had no practical working of this knowledge. The cooks always provided food, he had always found new clothes in his wardrobe when he had outgrown his old ones, and his home was so large he doubted any catastrophe could ever cause him to need a new one.

He thought this was all nice, but never bothered to think what any alternative might have been. What he lacked was perspective, perspective that he gained one day when his father took him to one of their mines.

From the secure tinted windows of a limousine he saw people, men and women, children his own age and younger, with the most miserable expressions he had ever seen. He had never known that someone could be as sad as those people. They were dirty, their clothes worn and ripped, their eyes distant.

He hadn't been paying much attention before that. He had been spending the day with his father which, as always, meant he would have to learn how to occupy himself while his Father did all kinds of company work that went over his head. But today his father needed to sort out some business in person. This led to a field trip of sorts, and he and his father were in a limousine headed to one of the minds they owned.

He stayed inside the Limo while his father sorted out business. The people outside didn't come too close. Some resting, some working, he couldn't quite tell the difference.

He knew about mines, and he knew about Dust. But he couldn't comprehend how dirty and how miserable this all was. Why he had never been told that a place like this existed? Where the skies were so dark it seemed to taint the light of the sun itself, where misery clung to every living thing. He wasn't even sure he was in the same world that had his home and his room and his bed in it. That he hadn't gone to some old horrible place, where people were to be punished for some misdeeds, or where the dead who refused to die were sent.

It was easy to lose track of how long he stared out the window, but was reawakened from his reverie when his father got back into the Limo like a great gale, the temperature dropping as the heat escaped outside. It almost astonished the boy to see his father in the same irritable mood he was in, unaffected by the horrible world outside. He grumbled as he sat down, and grumbled some more to the driver who sped them away.

"H-How did it go father?" He asked hesitantly.

It took a second for the question to reach his father. "Fine, fine." He grumbled. "More often than not you're better off doing it yourself, I tell you. If only men like us could be everywhere." He said.

"Why was-" The boy hesitated, before trying again. "Who were all those people out there?"

"Hmm? Ungrateful workers." He said contemptuously.

"Why were- they looked so sad." He remarked.

"Harumph." He said. "I give them steady wages, a place to stay. I take them when no-one else will. And the thanks I get is lazy attitudes, and nothing but complaints."

That confused the young boy. "Do you know why?"

"How should I? Ungrateful lot. I have half a mind… Filthy Faunus." He trailed off.

"They were Faunus?" The boy asked. That wasn't something he noticed. Looking back most of their ears and other traits were just as messy as their hair. Thinking on it most of the sad people he saw had been Faunus.

"Of course they were! Only people good for such work." He muttered.

"Why don't they take baths?"

"What?

"If they're so dirty I mean…" He was worried he may have misunderstood his father. But they were rather dirty. He doubted that he'd be smiling if he were as dirty as them.

"That's not what I mean boy." His father said, massaging his temple. "They are people of a lower order. Barely even people. They should thank their lucky stars I'm even willing to employ them. Instead they raise nothing but trouble. Still though, least I can provide work worthy of them. Everything works out in the end boy. But some days require you to give the workings a good kick to ensure they stay working."

The boy nodded, trying to understand, but having difficulty. Mining was difficult work for sure. So it was probably a good thing all those Faunus could work for them like they did. After all they had so much money, he couldn't help but wonder what they earned. Although it didn't look like they had much.

Something had to be off that his father didn't know of. He tended not to pay attention to things that didn't bother him, so it wouldn't be that surprising. It was decided this must be a problem solved without the help of his father.

"Gray?" The boy asked his butler, as he was being fitted for some new clothes.

"Yes Master?" His butler responded.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but don't let me stop you from asking another." He retorted.

"You're a Faunus correct?"

His butler stopped what he was doing to ponder that question. "Yes Master, I am."

He knew that already. Gray was a Dog Faunus, he had floppy ears in his grey hair. "Yesterday Father took me to one of his mines."

"He did, did he?"

"He did." It was odd. His butler seemed nervous. "I saw some workers there. They looked very sad." Gray kept silent at that. He was beginning to act oddly. "I asked father about it, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't know what's going on. I was wondering if you might."

His butler went about silently went about his masters clothes for a while longer.

"Gray?"

"Forgive me Master, it's a difficult topic." He sighed. "Where to even begin?"

"Does that mean you know what the problem is? Are you going to tell me, or give me one of those answers that Father gives me when he thinks I wouldn't understand?"

"You are quite perceptive Master." Gray complimented him.

"Of course I am. I'm not stupid." He defended himself. "It bothers me because they looked so sad. Like, not sad that they didn't get what they wanted for dinner, but sadder than I've ever seen. So something must be wrong. I saw it myself, and I'm very sure that I didn't misunderstand something.

And obviously Father must not understand anything because when I asked he didn't seem too worried, he just complained some more. You know what he's like. I asked if you were a Faunus because most of the people I saw out there were Faunus. I know that you're a Faunus, Gray."

Gray sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He went about the fitting some more but chose to continue. "Mining can be a very tough and difficult line of work." He stated.

"Really?"

"Oh yes, and very dangerous too." Gray said.

"Because there can be cave-ins, and toxic gas." The boy recalled.

"Yes, that." Gray answered. "It can… take a lot out of you."

He thought on that some. "Well if it's so bad, why don't they find other jobs?"

"Well Master… some can't." He explained. "Many people can't find better work, can't move to new places. Many aren't qualified for anything else. Many are stuck with the jobs they have, even if it's not the one they want."

"Is that what it's like being a Butler?"

Gray didn't know if he could withstand this curious child's barrage of questions. "No Master, I rather like my chosen profession. Now stay still."

"Fine." He said, keeping rigid. "In that case I'd much rather be a Butler than a Miner. I know I'm going to end up running the company one day, but I'm just saying that if I had a choice, that's what I would do."

Gray got half of a laugh out of that.

"Still though, if that's their job and they can't do anything else, why don't they make it better?" He asked turning to Gray. "I mean, nobody should be that sad."

Gray couldn't look the child in the eyes. "I don't know Master. You're not wrong. But there are some questions we don't have the answers to."

He didn't like that. But at the very least Gray was trying to answer his questions. "Alright then, if you don't know, and Father doesn't know, and I don't know, who do we know that does know?"

"Master, it's not that nobody knows the answers. It's that these are difficult questions."

"What makes them difficult?" He asked.

"Well …" Gray knew if he lied or made something up he'd be seen through in a second. "It's in regards to the Company I'm afraid. The way they do business... there are many who don't like it."

"Why's that?" The fitting was almost done now. He put down his arms. "I mean, I know mines are dangerous, even if I didn't know how tough the job could be. But people need the Dust we mine so they can fight monsters and stuff. I don't know why anyone would have a problem with that."

"Such an insightful lad ..." Gray remarked ruefully. "I don't think anyone has a problem with what the Company does, just how they go about doing it."

He nodded. "Okay, now that makes sense. Father can be tough to deal with. And I'm his son, so I can see why other people might not like him so much."

Finished, he stepped off the stool while the Butler gathered the measuring tape and put everything away. In a few more minutes his private lessons would start. "But that still doesn't fix anything." The dog ears on his butler betrayed his interest as Gray kept his back turned. "I mean just because something makes sense doesn't mean that it's right. So we still need to do something for the workers. Make them happier. How do we do that?"

Gray chuckled. "I'm not so sure Master. But… it's nice to see that enthusiasm from you. Now off with you, you have some lessons to attend to. Go."

The one thing that could be counted on in regards to his father would be that he would be behind his desk working. What exactly working was, was something that escaped him. He knew it involved paper and pens, phone-calls, and money and business, but how that ended up coming all together to keep his father occupied was a mystery.

His father sat behind a giant wooden desk, and on a great leather chair studded with brass buttons that the boy used to pretend was a throne, with his father as the king. On his desk were paper, pens, all types of office supplies and a shiny imposing plaque with the name Ebeneezer Schnee on it.

A week or so after their trip to the mines he had decided to come to his father. He had been thinking and thinking. The boy had surprised himself with how much he thought about it. But every time he wondered, he thought back to the misery he had seen plain and simple. And he knew he had no time to rest while there were people like that.

So he knocked on the giant heavy doors to his father's office. Sitting like an immovable king behind a backdrop of a frozen landscape, he was hunched over his desk immersed in his own world of numbers and business. He knocked again and his father was awoken to the same world as he.

"Yes?" He barked. "What is it?"

"Are you busy Father?"

"Horribly so." He stated. He grimaced at his papers. "But I can spare a moment ..."

"Good." He nodded. "Father, you remember when you took me to the mines?"

"…Yes?" He said, stroking his chin.

"Ever since then, I've been thinking about the workers there." He explained, taking some papers from his bag. "I don't think you noticed it, but they looked like they were in some really bad conditions. So I managed to get a look at the budget for them, what we pay them in salaries, and living conditions, health-benefits, things like that. And I drew up my own to improve their condition!"

He walked over to the desk and handed his papers to his Father. There weren't many things the two of them enjoyed doing together, but there was hope that they could both share interest here.

His father looked through the papers, all very impressive for a work of a boy his age, all very formal. All very expensive.

"This is more than double the current budget." He seethed.

"Don't worry, I think there were some problems in the first set of papers I got, we seemed to be spending below minimum in a number of places."

"You're asking me to waste good money on those ingrates!" He yelled.

That surprised him. His father was irritable most times, but he had rarely seen him angry. He had messed up, and gotten his own father mad at him before of course, but this intensity was new. "W-Well, I mean we don't really need that much money, do we? We wouldn't be taking away from the salary of the staff, o-or-"

"It's not about that, you incompetent fool!" He roared. He stayed seated and still, but somehow seemed to double in size without moving. "The share-holders, the stock-brokers! Our business partners! They're not going to take a cut in their earnings just for a bunch of Filthy Faunus! Those incompetent ingrates should be happy with what I give them! And you're saying we should give them more!?"

"U-Um, I-"

"Whatever in the Four Kingdoms gave you such an outlandish idea!?"

"I just saw how bad off the workers were- I- I… um, when I was asking Gray about it-"

"That wretch!" He swore. "I take him into my home, I clothe him, I allow him to serve me, and as thanks he fills my son's head with such poppycock!?" His Father glared at him. Hard. He knew right then he never wanted to see that look ever again. "Get out. GET OUT!"

He ran. He ran as if all the hordes of Grimm on Remnant were at his heels.

What followed wasn't pleasant for anyone in the Schnee Manor. The boy snuck back to hide outside of his Father's office. It wasn't hard to make out what was going on through his father's bellows.

A lot of the same words and phrases were repeated. All of it was difficult to hear, each word feeling like a blow to his person. It was particularly bad when he could hear the beatings. The yowls of pain, his butler begging to keep his job, crying.

After that experience a state of restless compliance followed. It was easy to avoid his Father. He simply found himself going through his schedule with his head down at all times.

He saw Gray again, bruised, aching, and stiff. The moment he did he ran up to him and desperately through tears try to apologize.

"Gray! I'm sorry! It's all my fault! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He told him.

"Master…" Gray winced. "It's quite alright."

"No it's not!" He told him. "It's not alright! Father, he… he hurt you!"

Gray didn't have a response for that.

"H-How could he do that? You didn't do anything, it was all my fault, whatever it was!"

"You were only trying to do the right thing." Gray assured him.

"Father, he, he can't be allowed to do this, he-"

"Master Schnee." His butler said a little authoritatively. Fortunately they were alone. The Schnee Manor always seemed so empty. With some effort he sat down on a nearby chair. "Earlier, Master Schnee, when you were asking me questions, I tried to avoid saying certain things. But after what happened… after what has happened… If I am to completely honest… this mustn't reach your father, for if it does, I will certainly lose my employment. I might even lose my life. And the things I have to say aren't at all pleasant things. In fact, they are very ugly vile things."

The boy stopped at that, and he thought very thoroughly. But in the end it wasn't a difficult decision, as he knew something was wrong, and it needed to be fixed. So he nodded.

Gray took a moment to compose himself before telling the boy everything. "The Schnee Dust Company… has done many wrongs. It has lied, cheated, and destroyed.

It is the strong abusing the weak. Many great and small want and need Dust, and the Company will supply whoever can buy. And they don't care for what happens so long as they can continue to profit. The rumors that circle the company are endless, and each more worrisome than the last. I don't know how many are true. But from what I've seen from my own eyes here, a great many of the dealings are illegal, some even downright evil. Every type of shady business. And that is what is suffered at the top.

What you saw that day at the mines was the atrocities committed at the bottom where my people, the Faunus, suffer the worst. They live in slums, forced to work almost all hours of the day for almost nothing. People die there, in the places set up for them by the company. You've seen yourself how they live, and it is deplorable. But nobody does a thing. The people stuck there cannot fend for themselves. And those outside care nothing for them."

This was not a revelation that he was ready for. The Schnee Dust Company had only ever been business, one of many machines that magically produced money from its inner workings. He thought there was a problem to be fixed with the workers. Only to discover the fury of his Father. Only to discover everything his life was built on was fuelled by the misery of others.

"Why would you work here then? Work for such a… such a monster?"

"Because-" Gray said. "I am clothed, fed, and I sleep in a warm bed. And if I can keep my head down I avoid… injuries."

"You shouldn't stand for this. You should leave so this never happens again."

Gray shook his head. "This is a nice job, Master Schnee, with good pay. I have family who depend on me. I can't afford to be so delicate. There is no need to worry about me, I've survived plenty, and I can survive this." Gray looked at the miserable boy. "You did a noble thing young Master Schnee. You should be proud of that."

It would be easier to be proud if not for the bruises on Gray's face.