Wispy white clouds veiled the sun while low-lying mists crept between the trees, basking everywhere with the yellow of scrambled eggs. The air was wet and cool. It was heavy with the scent of pines. Mistral was an ancient land of sprawling forests and mountains, with villages far in-between.

Small shoes padded against green grass, the dew crisp against her ankles. They kept her on her toes. They'd just broken camp and were now trudging up a hill. It had already been a year since she'd been taken in by Arcturus, but only a few months since she'd started training.

Pyrrha kept her footfalls soft, like a step too hard would awaken her from her dream. She slipped on a patch of mud but kept her balance. It was a good thing her bag was small and strapped tight. She sighed and pressed on. So much for not waking up.

In front, bright yellow lines left a wake of slow swirling white. Her foster father's fashion sense stood out like a beacon in the morning forest, walking without a care in the world and unencumbered by his large bag or the weapons on his back. Like a bonfire dancing to a waltz, he moved in the sure way water rolled off a leaf, or flowed down a stream.

She was, in comparison, a mess of a huntress—in-training.

Pyrrha went under a branch but her hair caught on a twig and cold droplets showered her head and clothes. She squeaked in surprise. A chuckle from ahead let her know her father heard her.

She shot a frown towards his direction.

"Ah, Pyrrha," Arcturus said, his voice fading quick, "so precious."

She puffed her cheeks.

"We don't have all day, bear cub!" He was already hidden by the trees.

Pyrrha hiked up her bag and tightened the straps, metal and other odd assortments clanging within. Just another day in her life. She started forward with a purpose and powered up the last of the slope, grass and dirt catching in her boots. She felt like a drum against the distant chirps and rustling leaves.

Pyrrha caught up to her father at the top, and stopped to catch her breath.

"Not something you see every day, huh?"

She saw hills as far as the horizon allowed, covered with trees and mist. There might have been animals here and there but she couldn't see. There was only one path where the trees didn't grow. And, she was supposed to see a river somewhere. There was nothing but green.

Pyrrha nodded in the affirmative, Arcturus was right about that at least.

"Are we there yet?" Petty, but she wanted some payback for earlier.

"We still have fifteen more kilometers, bear cub." On second thought, she shouldn't have asked. "Tired?" Arcturus' smile reminded her of her parents—except for how his lips curled in amusement. That, she could do without.

"I'm alright," she said.

Her father bent down and took out his Scroll, then expanded it to reveal a map to her at eye-level.

"Remember how to read?" he said.

She pointed at the blinking red dot in the middle of the different shades of green. A scale told her a square on the grid meant a square kilometer. They were nowhere near their destination. Good thing there was a Relay Tower close by.

Her father scrolled Westward and passed a big swathe of blue: The Gladius river. The one she'd hoped to see by now. It was a behemoth that runs through the heart of Mistral, a staggering one hundred meters of water at its narrowest, with even more kilometers snaking around the entire Anima continent.

"That's a big river," Pyrrha said. Her father chuckled. She didn't like the sound of that. Exactly how were they crossing it left a not-so-happy worry at the back of her mind.

He scrolled West some more, and a large grey square indicated their goal, thirty more kilometers away. Hisuigouzan was a hub of trade and an important settlement near Mistral's biggest Dust mine. A good place to be at, and an even nicer place to train in.

"So, how far do you think you'll go this time?" Arcturus raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be alright as long as we get there on schedule, dad." Here, they could properly track with Arcturus' Scroll for positioning, not like that mess of a rut Yaribashi. That last trip was horrible.

"Good point," he said, nodding.

She nodded back with a smile.

"And, Pyrrha." Her father put on a mocking smile. Not again.

"Mmm?" What now?

"Haven't you forgotten something?"

"Eh?" She thought back for a second, remembering the last things he told her before breaking camp: brush her teeth, wash her face, eat breakfast, make sure the safety on her gun was on. There wasn't anything special mixed in.

She then checked her pockets: her scroll was there, and so was the pouch of Lightning Dust he'd given… her… for jump-starting her aura. She stared hard at him—then noticed the faint glow around Arcturus was still there even though they were in the shade. That wasn't sunlight. Her cheeks warmed and she wanted to face palm.

She'd forgotten to cover herself in aura.

"Thought so," he said, smirk widening into a grin. Her father was cruel in his own way, finding amusement in how she embarrassed herself from time to time, more so when she struggled to control the same power he had.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm ten, dad." It had only been a year since he activated her aura and rescued her from her village.

"You won't always hear the Grimm, bear cub." He wagged his finger at her then skipped ahead, moving like the wind blowing a leaf. Natural. Like he was meant to go there.

"That's true," Pyrrha said with a sigh. Her hand found her gun in its holster, the cold metal was reassuring. It was something at least.

He stood with hands akimbo over a rock. "You did want to be a Huntress, right?"

Pyrrha grumbled, her hand tightening over the handle. She was still miles away from the promise he'd made.

"Keep up now!" Arcturus turned, and in a moment, was already bounding away, smooth and seamless. To add insult to injury, he was even waving his arms like a clown and twirling about.

He just had to rub it in.

"Ugh." A year of living with aura wasn't much.

Pyrrha took a deep breath and felt for the spark within, rousing her aura. It was like recalling the name of a friend at the tip of her tongue. Tantalizing and close, and just outside her grasp. She remembered the flame that burned within her then, when Arcturus awakened her—and the pitiful ember in its place now.

Annoyed, and because his humming was getting fainter and fainter, she pulled out the pouch of lightning Dust powder Arcturus gave her. A shortcut, he called it. She took a pinch of the yellow crystals, ate it, and bit down.

Zap!

Her tongue jerked back, mouth going numb. Pyrrha kept chewing, sparks licking the insides of her cheeks and biting her teeth. She hated jumpstarting herself like this. She rode it out until the sting subsided and the sense in her limbs sharpened. Something in her cracked open. Numbness gave way to heat.

Fire, deep and rich burst forth from within.

The blaze breathed with unpracticed lungs, like the slow yawn of a cat stretching its legs. It expanded and purred with each breath, rousing itself larger. Arcturus called it a pulling sensation, but to her it burned hotter than the fires he pulled her out of.

Warmth gushed out from her belly and she remembered how the flame spread through her the first time and saw the world with as much color as there really was. It burned in her limbs. It burned in her stomach, and her head was clearer than it had ever been. This was her flame—and, for a second, she felt like she could save the world.

Pyrrha let the fire reach her calves down to her toes, then made a quick dash for her father, the ground running fast beneath her. She wove over and under branches and around trees and puddles as the wind tickled her ears. The dew felt like pinpricks against her skin now, each one more distinct than without her aura, and yet at the same time less concerning.

She was invincible.

Pyrrha caught up to Arcturus without a breath out of place.

"Try not to forget again, alright?" He ruffled her hair, the sensation of his aura against hers like the meeting of water and mud, distinct yet miscible. It was strange how she knew where hers began and his ended, but it was strange all the same to feel the intangible jumble of space.

"Yes, dad," she said. She really needed to learn to spark her aura on her own.

Arcturus chided her into a jog and Pyrrha followed. She didn't have an excuse to refuse, it being so early in the morning and just a few minutes after eating. On the bright side, they made short work of the remaining ten kilometers to the Gladius River.

They arrived before noon.

The mists were gone by the time they got to the river banks, dispelled by the warmer light of a sun higher up in the sky. A shimmering film of blue spanned her vision left and right, as fat brown birds flew overhead, some swooping down into the water—and flying out with fishes in their beaks. She went closer to the edge and saw through the clear waters: the shelf ran deep. Pyrrha couldn't see the bottom.

"Dad?" she said. Her aura kept her warm together with her hiking jacket and boots. Her own scroll told her how much aura she had left: about eighty-seven percent. A relative value, but indispensable nonetheless.

"One second bear cub." Arcturus had his shotgun out and was loading Ice Dust shells into it from his pouch.

The implication wasn't lost on her.

"Okay" —he cocked the gun— "we're going to cross." He was smiling.

She sighed and unclasped the bag part of her climbing rig, leaving behind a harness-like system of straps. She gave her luggage to Arcturus who strapped it down to his own and set his bag horizontal against his hips. Pyrrha then took off her earrings and headband, making sure her jacket, pants, and boots had no loose articles anywhere. Unfortunately, travelling Huntsmen and their daughters weren't entitled to journeying to far-flung villages via Galleon. Those were reserved for emergency missions only.

"Ready?" Her father unclasped a set of straps to his back.

"I'm good."

Arcturus picked her up and gave her a piggy-back ride, then strapped her harness to his own. It was the reason they both wore high visibility backpacks in highlighter yellow. She didn't have a choice in the matter. Up to now, Pyrrha still questions why for the love of Remnant the Hunter Kingdom Armory had these in stock.

Her father double-checked her straps were secured, making Pyrrha look like the strangest kid-shaped bag with a fiery red ponytail ever to be worn by a grown adult. She'd rather cross on her own, riding the wind as she jumped—but sadly, she still couldn't use her aura whenever and however she wanted. Pyrrha sighed.

Arcturus pinched her cheek lightly. "Soon enough, bear cub." From what she remembered on the map, they'd be another sixteen kilometers closer to Hisuigouzan after this. Remnant was a large place.

"I'm starting," her father said.

The air became abuzz with an energy far larger than she had ever produced. Arcturus' aura flared in full made her feel small, like she was no bigger than a year ago when he rescued her. She still had so much to go before she reached his level.

She felt the thrum of power channel down his arm and into his weapon.

The discharge coincided with the burst of aura, as frost exploded over the water, a jagged ice floe appearing from the splash. Another few shells of gunfire created a line of them within a regular distance from each other. A path to cross with.

"Ready?"

"Yes!" Pyrrha grabbed on tight to her harness, making sure to keep as still as possible.

"Here we go!" her father said.

He took a few steps, and felt his aura inflate, engulfing her in its domain. Pyrrha breathed deep. Arcturus jumped. Her aura protected her from the wind as they flew.

They skimmed the surface of the water, the two flying through the air without much lift and the calm flow mirroring their fleeting forms. Turbulence distorted the images behind them.

Pyrrha saw the first ice floe approach quick.

Then Arcturus' foot exploded against the make-shift foothold, and they shot forward with a seamless beat, still barely clearing the surface of the water. It was less jumping and more like skating on air, and she was neither jostled or shaken by her father's movements.

It ended as soon as they begun: sudden, but without the surprising lurch of inertia. Her father had been sure to teach her the concepts of forces and the natural laws after she'd experienced first-hand the bad things that came with ignorance against them.

They reached the other end of the bank no worse for wear, and Arcturus was still the well of aura he was when they started. She could only guess how deep a true Huntsman's reserves went.

Her father unclasped her from his harness and gave her back her bag. Pyrrha then readjusted her clothes into a more relaxed configuration.

They needed to clear this place fast. Aura attracted Grimm the way fire did moths, and when a Huntsman flared theirs this much, it was less a candle and more like setting off fireworks over a lake at night: near blinding. Her father never failed to remind her of the fact.

"Good?" Arcturus asked.

She nodded and roused her still burning aura. It removed the earlier thrill of crossing the river.

"Not too much now."

Pyrrha saw her father's legs and chest glowing brighter than the rest of him. Selective reinforcement was a degree more difficult than just turning it on and off. She tried to do the same, willing the fire to her legs, but her entire body cooled instead. She increased the burn and tried to weaken it only on her arms, but again her entirety dimmed. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's alright, I can carry you to town later in case you run out." Arcturus took out a bracelet from his pocket and put it on. He pressed a switch on its side and a bright blue light blinked on one side while a yellow one blinked on the other. "Flasher out."

She smiled and pulled out one for herself. It was simple a bracelet with high-visibility bulbs: so Hunters and Huntresses didn't lose track of each other while running with their aura on high. It was a point of pride when Arcturus bought one for her a week ago, hers lit up with red and green.

"On second thought" —her father tossed something her way— "you lead this time."

She caught his Scroll, and butterflies danced in her belly. "Okay." Her palms went damp, but the giddy anticipation of proving herself floated up her throat. Pyrrha swallowed her nerves.

Arcturus equipped his shield and unfolded his shotgun into a spear. He was frowning. Her father only frowned when he expected a fight. "I don't like how quiet this part of the forest is."

Pyrrha nodded and unzipped a side pocket on her bag, taking out a bronze buckler the size of her arm. She then took out two plates of metal, also bronze, and as wide as her hand. She set one over a jacket sleeve each, and unfolded them into a pair of bronze bracers.

"Ready," she said, holding her shield by its handle with her right hand.

Arcturus nodded.

Pyrrha attached the scroll to the underside of her left bracer and turned on the map.

"Remember how to set the marker?"

"Yes, dad," she selected the red dot on the grid, pressed tracking mode, then selected Hisuigouzan. A blue arrow indicated where she needed to go and the distance left—it had an accuracy of up to a kilometer give or take. Laser Scans weren't the best mapping tools according to her father.

There were fifteen kilometers left to go.

"You have it?" A beep confirmed for them.

"Yes." Pyrrha made sure she was facing the right direction.

"Come on then."

She started with a jog, letting the fires stoke themselves into a burn.

Arcturus followed behind her.

The ground became less annoying and more solid beneath her feet the more her aura burned.

She breathed in and out, even and rhythmic every two steps. This was important, Arcturus always reminded her. The key to running hard was to make sure you don't shock yourself into fatigue and really take your time warming up. Aura was a great power, but it wasn't magic. It had rules and limitations just like any other force of nature.

Fourteen.

Her first steps were just the prelude to the intro. She let her aura burn a little more, and her legs went through the brush like butter, casting off with casual ease the same hills that impeded her earlier that morning. This was the same level of reinforcement Arcturus had been training her to maintain always—which was a work in progress. Fast flares were easier to do than slow burns.

Pyrrha kept her shield close to her body, and a hand near her gun. Normally, she would have been swinging her arms to conserve momentum, but with a weapon, it was better to keep it level and ready instead.

Thirteen.

"Okay," Arcturus said.

"Yes."

They jogged harder now than when they were going to the Gladius. There was no joking when it came to the Grimm. At least not out in the woods. They kept it up for the next kilometer.

Twelve.

"This should be good enough," Arcturus said. His spear was level and ready, scanning every few feet left and right. Pyrrha too was now feeling the chill she'd come to associate with the Grimm, like the coldness of anger subsided.

She nodded and tightened her grip on her shield, calling on the fire within her. Jogging to a trot for a few kilometers wouldn't wind any Huntsman or Huntress, it might those in-training but Pyrrha wanted to call herself special. Aura helped fuel stamina, and simple prevention of exhaustion was easier than using aura in place of it. The latter was a lesson she wouldn't have needed to learn had she stayed in the city.

Pyrrha let the floodgates loose, pushing some formless mass within. A small lurch in her belly appeared, like the beginnings of a long and loud howl. Then the blaze roared in response, and she answered its call. It flooded her body with strength. She let her aura rage.

Dirt exploded behind her and she hit a wall of wind that melted in her advance, her wake whistling in her ears.

Her legs moved to a beat too fast to set music to, yet she felt the melody all the same. She went over hills and across clearings, her center of gravity shifting with each turn, climb, and descent while her hands reacted to counterbalance her inertia. Somehow, dirt and brush became indistinct and clear at the same time—they were all just part of the path.

It was pure instinct conducting the concerto of her running. It was the same purposeful way Arcturus always moved. Deep in her gut, laughter threatened to escape: the thrill of flaring her aura hard. Harder than she'd ever done before.

Pyrrha rode the high of her emotions—and took to the trees, kicking off tree trunks and climbing, like a crescendo leading to the chorus. Her aura raged within her, unquenched by the cold wind whipping her face or the growing emptiness. It was extravagance, bliss.

She saw the open sky once more.

"Distance?" Arcturus said beside her, he wasn't straining with effort one bit.

They were running near the top of the canopy, pushing off trees and branches. She had forgotten to glance at the counter after losing track of how many times her half-second timer counted. She checked the map: nine more kilometers. The same bliss from earlier returned, a year was still a year of living with aura.

She was getting somewhere after all.

"Ten," she said—the lapse in breath made her dizzy for the fraction of a second. Reinforcing oneself with aura enhanced strength and stamina, and cleared one's head, but it still put a strain on the body all the same.

"Just sign it to me next time."

Pyrrha nodded, and flared her aura some more, dispelling the weakness.

An inhuman screech caught up to her, only now registering the distortion from how fast they were going. The Grimm were nearby.

When running hard, the best course of action was to ride one's momentum and power through: either cut a swathe with a devastating charge, or push hard towards your goal. Pyrrha put up her shield, arm bent at an angle towards her right flank. Never block, Arcturus always taught her, but parry and redirect instead.

The sounds of her feet against wood gave way to a host of roars, and she saw a shadow on the ground to the left of her following closely behind.

Trees cracked behind them, and she looked back to see bipedal Grimm running hot on their tails: Creeps. They had raptor-like features with large jaws and reptilian looking heads. Creeps were fast on their feet but not problems on their own.

"Pyrrha!"

She snapped her head forward in time to duck out of the way of a Beowulf's arm—and raised her shield to defend against another's flying lunge.

But the creature never made contact as a spearhead already slashed through the it's neck.

This was reality.

"Stick to the trees!"

Gunfire sounded behind her and she saw the two Ursa approaching go down in a flash, whatever was left of their upper bodies encased in ice. A King Taijitu loomed just behind the bears.

A jerk, and she then found her feet no longer touching anything.

Arcturus just picked her up and they were now gliding over the leaves at the tops of the trees.

"We'll power through instead," Arcturus said, he had her in his grip using the weight-distributing handle she was taught to carry her bag with. The pressure carried over to the rest of her harness, which meant the handle was made to carry the bag together with the wearer.

Pyrrha decided then that Hunters were crazy people.

A layer of black light surrounded Arcturus' gold glow—his semblance. The same mesmerizing flow of movements captivated her the way her father skimmed over the trees, an otherwise impossible surface. She couldn't see any viable branches anywhere.

Pyrrha caught her breath, and checked the remaining distance. She said, "Eight kilometers, and just keep heading straight!"

Arcturus grunted in affirmative.

She dared a look back and saw three Nevermores flying after them.

"Nevermores, three, six o'clock," she said. Flying enemies were the worst in an open environment like this.

Another grunt and they went below the canopy. Hidden from the gigantic bird-Grimm, and a little less safe Her left hand trailed for the handgun concealed at her hip. She'd only get in the way if she pulled it out now.

Arcturus shot a Beowulf and cocked his gun with one hand before shooting an Ursa this time. He did so two more times to any Grimm that approached too close as he ran without missing a beat.

"Load please." He handed her his shotgun.

Pyrrha received it, thankful for the reinforcement of her aura. The weapon was surprisingly heavy every time she held it. How did something so small weigh so much? The implication of its density was staggering to think about. She reached into her father's hip pouch and pulled out a tube of more ice dust rounds. Pyrrha loaded up the gun and made sure the hatch for the shells was closed before handing it back.

"Thank you bear cub."

"Seven kilometers."

"That was the longest kilometer we'd done so far." Her father chuckled.

To be fair, they did sign-up for an extermination mission, so this level of resistance was within expectations. Grimm just tended to flock nearby human settlements—the more juvenile ones at least—while the older ones tended to wait. Both were just as bad all the same, and these sorts of missions popped up every now and then.

The sun was now bearing straight down. Noon-time, and lunch was delayed by the looks of it.

Pyrrha kept refilling Arcturus' gun for him, and he continued shooting anything that moved too close. She also kept watch for any Grimm her father might have missed—and wished she were strapped-in backpack style again, as crazy as that sounded to her. This whole getting dragged by her bag around was getting old.

They kept going—the undulating highs and lows of green occasionally highlighted with pitch black and bone white. It was dangerous, but Remnant was already plenty dangerous even without her aura.

She smiled. It wasn't so bad for a life cursed with conflict.