Chapter 2
General James Ironwood was many things.
Subtle, Ozpin mused, wasn't one of them.
Three enormous Atlesian airships had parked themselves on the outskirts of Beacon, heralding the general's arrival.
From high up in the academy's clock tower, Beacon's headmaster Ozpin and his deputy watched the ships land.
"Ironwood certainly loves bringing his work wherever he travels." Glynda said, distaste lacing her words.
"Well," Ozpin replied, "running an academy and a military makes him a busy man. But yes, those are a bit of an eyesore."
The door beeped.
"Come in."
Ironwood strode into the room, a warm smile on his face.
"Ozpin!"
"Hello, general."
The two shook hands.
"Please, drop the formalities. It's been too long. And Glynda! It has certainly been too long since we last met."
"Oh, James," she said, before her demeanor abruptly went sour. "I'll be outside."
"She hasn't changed a bit."
The room was silent, besides Ozpin pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"James. I know why you've come here."
"Listen, Oz, if what Qrow said is true, then-"
"Then we will handle it tactfully. It's the Vytal Festival. A time to celebrate unity and peace. So I suggest that you not scare people by transporting hundreds of soldiers halfway across the continent."
"That's not the only reason why I'm here."
"Oh?"
"It's the incident in Vale several days ago."
"But I'm sure it'll be of little conce-"
"Oz." Ironwood interrupted. "It's happened again."
"Where? And why haven't I heard about it?" Ozpin asked, his grip tightening on his mug.
"In Atlas. We covered it up the best we could to avoid creating a panic. Myrtle Morningstar. Dead."
"The 11th ranked huntress worldwide, if I recall." Concern began to show on Ozpin's face. "He would seem to be climbing the rankings. Have you contacted the 10th?"
"We've tried, but he's vanished. But what confuses me is why? Why work so openly, in broad daylight, no less?"
"Fear."
"Hm?"
"It discredits the hunters as protectors. Discrediting the hunters makes the people feel unsafe. People feeling unsafe makes them scared. And fear causes people to make mistakes. It also brings with it… the Grimm."
Ozpin stood up. "I will speak with the council of Vale. I would recommend doing the same for Atlas. Have them ensure that no news of these incidents reaches the people. We cannot afford to have a mass panic on our hands, now can we?"
Ironwood nodded. "Understood.
Blake effortlessly dodged the heavy mace as it slowly moved towards her head, ducking low and kicking the legs of her opponent out from beneath him. He grunted as he hit the ground, dazed, leaving him totally unprepared for Gambol Shroud stabbing him in the chest.
"And that's the match. Good work, Miss Belladonna." Professor Goodwitch announced, "Mister Winchester, I would suggest a more passive fighting style against a faster opponent such as Miss Belladonna here. Don't be so aggressive. It leave openings."
"Sure, whatever," Cardin mumbled as he got up, disgruntled, before making to leave.
"We have time for one more match. Do we have any volunteers?"
One person in the back of the room raised his hand.
"I will."
"And you are?"
He stood up, his stark white Atlesian uniform clearly showing where he hailed from.
"Marcoh, of team Mithril(MIHL)."
"And his opponent will be?"
Weiss' hand shot up. She figured it would be a good time to gauge the competition. The Vytal tournament was right around the corner, after all.
As they both made their way down from the stands, Weiss eyed her opponent up. He was dressed rather plainly, and his face was the type you'd miss in a crowd, with unkempt dark hair. The only thing resembling a weapon on him were his metal bracers, strapped loosely to his forearms.
Weiss stood across from her opponent.
He began bouncing on the balls of his feet, arms dangling at his sides.
Weiss drew Myrtlenaster, holding it in front of her.
"Begin!"
Weiss dashed forward, sword arm outstretched, aiming several thrusts of her blade at his face. The first few he dodged by less than an inch, but the last he swept aside with his bracer.
Weiss immediately drew her rapier back, walking a few steps backwards. Marcoh bridged the gap, ducking under her horizontal slash and unleashing a flurry of punches into her unguarded midriff. She tried to bash his head with the pommel, but he spun out of the way.
A glyph faded into existence at her feet as she charged towards him, the sudden burst in speed catching him off guard, allowing Weiss to score several good hits.
As the battle continued, much of the class was engrossed in the fight between this random exchange student and the esteemed Schnee heiress, mostly due to the fact that the exchange student was holding his own very well.
Yang's attention, however, was not on the fight, but on her partner. Normally, Blake would be watching the fight, giving a few pointers to her teammate after, but she was scribbling things down in a notebook. Come to think of it, it was the same notebook she'd frantically hidden at the beginning of the semester. Looking closer, Blake looked tired. The dark circles under her eyes were obvious.
Something was up, and Yang was going to get to the bottom of it.
A thud coming from the center of the room drew her attention.
Weiss was on the ground, her aura in the red. Marcoh, while not much better, had still managed to earn a victory.
"And Marcoh is the winner. Good work," Glynda said, turning to Weiss, "Miss Schnee. Try not to rely on your glyphs so much. It puts you at a disadvantage when your opponent can match that speed, hence this match's outcome. Class dismissed."
As the class began to funnel out of the room, Marcoh held a hand out to Weiss, silently offering to help her up. She took it, giving him a curt nod.
"Good match. You really did a number on me." Marcoh said, giving her a subdued, but warm, smile.
"Thank you." Weiss said, accepting the compliment graciously. She was used to people trying to butter her up, but this felt genuine.
"I'll catch you later." He said, walking towards his team, which consisted of an enormous armored man, a short man with messy red hair, and a girl in a lavender getup happily snacking on a bag of some snack food.
Weiss made her way towards her own team.
Yang heard something.
It was very, very late. Too late for any of her teammates to be up. And yet there Blake was, almost silent as she cracked the door open, sneaking down the hallway.
Almost.
This explained everything. Blake's tiredness, her distance from everyone and everything but that notebook and her scroll.
Yang thought for a minute, contemplating going to get help, but decided against it.
Tossing the covers of her bed aside, she quickly threw on some clothes, and, after equipping Ember Celica, followed her partner into the night.