Markus sat reclined on the side panel of his Bullhead, leaning against the centrifugal force as the craft banked for the umpteenth time. A slew of confusion and arguing ensued when the Bullhead carrying Castillo and himself reentered Vale airspace, forcing them into a holding pattern over the school. Air traffic controllers from the local Vale Reserves argued with controllers aboard the Atlasian command ship over who had jurisdiction to give them clearance to land. Twenty minutes into their hold, they were still fighting.

Markus had long since removed his headset, willingly choosing to listen to the roar of the Bullhead's powerful turbines over the squabbling of the air traffic controllers. They had initially been given permission to land by the Vale tower, but the Atlasian vessel quickly rescinded it, and Castillo didn't want to "find out first hand just how big the guns are on that monstrosity," and quickly complied.

After the craft leveled out, Markus roused to his feet and moved to the cockpit. "Any new developments?" he asked.

"Nope," Castillo boredly answered. "The Atlasian controllers are still claiming to have air authority based on their Vytal Festival security force status."

"And Vale's?"

"Still saying since the initiated contact, it's their call."

"What does precedent say about jurisdiction between towers?"

"Within the same kingdom? Whoever makes first contact. When you have another kingdom's army in yours, playing soldier?" She threw her arms up in defeat. "Couldn't tell ya." Castillo let out a dejected sigh. "If everyone could let go of their egos for thirty seconds, we would have landed by now."

"Have you tried requesting priority clearance?"

"Oh yeah, several times. I even went so far as to say I was carrying wounded. Still got nothin'."

Markus looked out the windshield and down to the ground. "What is the status of the landing zones?"

"Last time we passed 'em, they were clear. They've been clear since…" she trailed off. Markus raised his chin in hope they would soon share the same thought. "Frak it," she grumbled, hitting an assortment of controls. "I'm just gonna land."

Markus nodded. "My sentiment, exactly, though I am willing to bet we will hear it from Ironwood. I will do my best to keep the heat off of you."

"At this point, I really don't care." The Bullhead banked sharply. "I'm tired, bored of flyin' circles, and just wanna go home. And if you start getting it from the General," the craft leveled, "you give it right back. Tell him he should have had this figured out by now."

The turbines powered down as the metallic landing pads, reaching out over the cliffs, came into view, their lights rhythmically flashing. Markus heard the grinding of the landing gear extending as they made their final approach. The engines gave one last surge of power before the rear landing legs made contact, followed quickly by the bow. The craft settled with a thud, its engines winding down.

"Thank you for flying Castillo airways," Castillo said as she unbuckled herself from her seat. "Please use caution as you exit the vehicle, as there may be loose bits of shrapnel strewn about the cabin."

"'May be?' I am going to find shards of metal in this dogi for at least a couple of months."

Castillo stood. "Eh, go stand under of the giant electromagnets at the docks."" She stepped out of the cockpit, pushing a hatch release as she moved. "That'll have it cleaned out in an instant."

"I will bear that in mind as a solution." Markus threw his pack over a shoulder as the hydraulic lifts raised the Bullhead's main hatch. The warm air of Vale rushed in as Markus stepped down onto the landing pad. He slowly walked to the rear of the craft to examine the exterior damage, seeing the meandering line the cannon rounds had made.

"Well, there's our problem," Castillo said as she round the tail fin.

"By the Mother," Markus said, stunned. "It looks worse from out here."

"Yep, Bullhead cannons really rip stuff up." Castillo ran two fingers along the jagged opening. "Though, from the look of it, I'd say they were trying to force us down."

"How have you deduced that conclusion?"

"Well, for one, we're still here. At any point, they could have just shot us down. They took out or tail gun, but then stopped." Castillo brought a hand to her chin. "And those missiles, were they actually going to hit us?"

"Finn did say that they were asked if they knew of any other lightly defended stations." Markus widened his eyes in realization. "Perhaps they were merely after the Bullhead."

"Or we were worth more alive."

Markus grinned. "I doubt, even if they managed to somehow get us to ground, it would not have boded well for them."

Castillo joined him in his grin. "You're not wrong." She extended her forearm, which Markus bumped with his own. "Victory or Kolvngar."

Markus shrugged a shoulder, readjusting his bag. "I will find you a more worthy mission next time."

She gave a mocking salute. "You do that. Until then, take it easy."

Markus returned the gesture, then turned toward the school. Upon first examination, it was oddly deserted, with only a few random students running between buildings. Huh, he began to ponder. I wonder if there has been a mandatory -

His thought cut itself off when a localized burning sensation overcame where his Truthsense normally manifested. Markus's head snapped to full alert, and he mentally prepared for an attacker, but as he spun a circle while walking, none such a person arrived. Strange, the only other time I felt that was when - He felt another wave of burning come over him, then fade into a more familiar tingle, then disappear altogether.

Markus shook his head, shaking off the feeling. By the Mother, what was that?

The question lingered in his mind as he entered the staff wing elevator and throughout the ride to his floor. When the doors parted, he found an unusually calm Professor Oobleck standing in front of him. "Ah, Mister Frude! Good to see you again."

"Professor Oobleck. It is good to see you as well."

"I understand that you have been in southern Vale. How was your mission?"

"Eventful," Markus replied, "but a success, nonetheless."

"Good! Good." Oobleck took a step toward the elevator car as Markus stepped out. "I'm on my way down to a correspondence meeting. I will be broadcasting the Vytal Tournament with Professor Port this year."

"I look forward to your commentary."

"Yes, I'm looking forward to it as well. But you look like you need rest. Have a wonderful evening." Oobleck sped passed Markus into the car, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the doors to close.

Markus turned back toward the open hall, relieved that not much had changed within Beacon, despite the sudden show of Atlasian power. He waved his Scroll in front of his room's door handle, hearing the audible click that granted him access. Immediately upon entering, he breathed deeply, taking comfort in the scent of familiar surroundings.

He tossed his pack near his reading chair and began to loosen his dogi, fully intending to shower and scrub the five day's worth of dirt and grime from himself, when his Scroll sounded off with an alert. Markus groaned loudly, annoyed by its sudden intrusion.

"Please come to my office for debriefing. Be forewarned, General Ironwood is also here."

I knew it, Markus thought. He rubbed his tired eyes and exited his room with haste, leaving his Scroll on his desk, and not caring to notice his door had not shut completely.

"So, in conclusion," General Ironwood rattled off from a report, "the Atlasian Knight has been observed to have a peak performance efficiency when deployed in teams of four, however, they maintain good to excellent performance in pairs. Given the size of the Vytal Festival grounds, the arena, and Vale itself, I move that the pair deployment be utilized."

Professor Ozpin initially said nothing. He sipped at his mug as he read various articles regarding the breach of Grimm. "Yes, that sounds best."

Ironwood sighed. "Oz, you've said that to the last five security details I've thrown at you."

"I am aware of what I say, James." A bell chime from the elevator caused Ozpin to close his Scroll. "I am simply deferring to your military expertise."

General Ironwood's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure how to take that, Oz."

"I meant no disrespect, of course." Ozpin pressed a button on his desk, allowing the elevator occupant into his office. He watched as a road-weary Markus stepped through the doors, with purpose in his step. "Welcome back, Markus."

"Ah, Mister Frude," Ironwood said. "How was your -"

"By what right grants your air controllers domain over Vale's skies?" Markus loudly interrupted. "I sat in a holding pattern while your people could not keep their egos in check because a Vale controller had already granted us permission to land."

Ironwood stood stunned by Markus's sudden outburst, while Ozpin sat with his mouth agape. "The right," Ironwood began, "was granted by the Vale Council, for the Atlasian Army to act as an additional security force for the duration of the Vytal Festival. The traffic controllers were simply following orders."

"Then why did it take us twenty minutes to land?" Markus asked as he stopped short of Ozpin's desk. "Our clearance kept getting rescinded by your command ship."

"They most likely wanted to confirm your flight."

"They they should have asked the Vale tower, not fight and bicker with them." Markus folded his arms. "You are a General. You are to have this figured out before taking the role of occupation force."

"Markus," Ozpin said, standing. "That's enough." Ozpin saw Markus take a breath. "Events, as of late, have left us all heated, but the last person we need flying off the rails is you."

"Yes," Ironwood said. "You may be tired, but it doesn't give you the excuse to disrespect the headmaster of another school."

"Nor does it give the additional security force, who was asked to remain, the right to barge in on set procedure," Ozpin added. "The Vytal Festival is a celebration of unity, not superiority." Professor Ozpin sat. "I suggest you remind your people of this upon your return."

"And let them know that they are guests here," Markus continued, "and can be easily dismissed, should the need be."

Ironwood looked over Markus and Ozpin, then letting a defeated expression come over him. "I will let them know when I am back aboard." He checked his watch. "It's getting late. I need to get back to my ship and question Torchwick one more time before the day is out."

"You managed to capture Roman Torchwick?" Markus asked with more energy in his voice. "Huh… I took him to be a bit more cautious than that."

"What? You think he intentionally let himself be captured?"

Markus tapped his chin. "Now that you mention it…"

"You're delirious," Ironwood said as he moved to leave. "I'll return tomorrow to finish our briefing."

The elevator doors closed, taking Ironwood with it. "I don't think I've ever seen you so upset, Markus," Ozpin said as he reached for an empty mug.

"There is a first time for everything," Markus replied as he held out a refusing hand. "But even my patience has limits."

"It appears so." Ozpin gestured to a chair. "How went your mission?"

"It went well," Markus said, sitting. "Both Bullheads were found, and the missing soldiers are alive and recovering."

"That's the best news I have heard in the last day."

"So I can imagine, but I was unable to ascertain the White Fang's true motives of to why they were taken."

Professor Ozpin leaned forward. "So it was the White Fang behind the thefts. What became of the stolen craft?"

"One was shot down, the other was forced down by the local V.A.F. detachment."

"Well," Ozpin said, giving an indifferent shrug, "at least we know they no longer have them." He gave Markus a more thorough inspection, seeing uncharacteristic concern in his eyes. "You seem… distant. What's on your mind?"

"Two things," Markus said with a drawn out exhale. "One, when I arrived back on Beacon grounds, a burning sensation overcame where my Truthsense normally is."

"A burning?" Ozpin said, sitting alert. "They only other time you mentioned a burning was during your first mission."

"Yes. I fear there may be conspirators among us."

Ozpin nodded slowly. "With the sudden inflow of students and people for the Vytal Festival, it will be difficult to keep track of any suspicious behavior."

"Then perhaps it is in everyone's best interest to cancel the Festival, or at least the tournament."

"I've already suggested that, but the Council remains steadfast in seeing it through, putting their full faith in General Ironwood and the Atlasian Army. They have, however, delayed the start of the tournament by a week."

"That only gives them more time to iron out final preparations, whatever those might be."

"Markus, whatever argument you can think, I have already brought before the Council." Ozpin reached for his filled mug. "The Council is on alert, and people are scared. My hands are bound in this matter."

Markus let out a grumbled sigh. "Fear will be the death of us all."

"Perhaps," Ozpin said before taking a drink. "This is why we must remain symbols against fear."

"It is not us about which I am worried." Markus leaned forward. "I feel as your relegation to merely host for the Festival is rash, thoughtless, and a decision under duress." His elbows rested upon Ozpin's desk. "But what if that was the intent of the grand design?"

"If that were the case," Ozpin started, unmoved, "I would first commend, whoever is the master architect, for their keen insight into human psychology, before taking said person into custody."

Without looking up, Markus muttered, "Who said it was a person?"

Professor Ozpin set his mug aside. "Now you're starting to concern me, Markus."

"I know. I can feel it." Markus slowly stood. "It has been several days since I have been able to properly meditate. My mind is… flustered."

"I should have let you rest before calling you here, but Ironwood demanded it." Ozpin rose to his feet. "But before you depart, what was the other point on your mind?"

"I may have discovered my Semblance, thanks to a fellow kinsman in the village of Kansa."

The elder Huntsman tilted his head to confusion. "'Fellow kinsman?'"

"He knew of Camaden, knew of Thirmir, the Hall, and nearly recited The Knight Paladin." Markus placed his hands on the desk, and leaned onto them. "You know that story did not exist here until I brought it."

"What brought him to Vale?"

"I did not ask, nor is it my place to know." Markus stood erect again. "However, he had knowledge of Truthsense, and offered insight into the trails I sometimes leave behind myself while in combat."

Ozpin waited for Markus to continue. "Did he add anything else?"

"Only that a terrible destiny awaited those with the gift of 'Aural Grasp.'"

"Well, lucky for you, then."

"It would be," Markus said, "if I wasn't beginning to doubt my disbelief." He hung his head. "I did the dangerous thing of thinking during my trip. There are so many things… that have had to go right to lead me to here. I…" His words caught in his throat. "I can no longer attribute some of them to simple luck anymore."

Professor Ozpin put a hand on Markus's shoulder. "Go rest. You need it. There is another item we need to discuss, but it can wait. I'll send it to your Scroll."

The elevator doors opened, letting Ruby into the hall. "What do you think a tournament commentary with those two would sound like?"

"It will either be a long, drawn out story," Weiss said, stepping from the elevator car, "or something rattled off that needs subtitles to even understand."

Yang exited the car, looking toward the empty hall. "Are you sure he's back? This place looks deserted."

"Yeah!" Ruby excitedly said. "I overheard someone at dinner say they saw him!"

"Okay," Yang said defensively. "As long as you're sure."

"Markus has a fairly unique demeanor," Blake chimed in. "I feel as if he'd be easy to spot, even at a distance."

"Hey, girls," Weiss called out, pointing to the ajar door, "Markus's room is open."

The team quickly joined Weiss. "Well," Yang said, pushing Ruby forward, "go in. You're the one that wanted to see him."

Ruby straightened her ruffled outfit. "Wouldn't that be barging in?"

"Maybe he opened the door for us." Yang held out her Scroll. "I did explicitly say in the message I sent that, 'We're coming to see you.'"

"Though I find it odd he didn't reply," Weiss said.

Ruby slowly started to move the door, knocking on it several times. "Markus?" she called out into the living area.

Three other heads peaked through the crack. "Hey!" Yang yelled. "Are you dead? Call out if you're dead!"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "He's obviously not here," she said as she pushed the door open fully. "But it looks as if he's been here."

"Yeah," Blake said as they entered, pointing to Markus's pack on his floor. "There's his bag."

"Maybe he's napping," Ruby suggested.

"Markus never struck me as they napping type," Weiss said. "He always seemed like he was all or nothing." She reached for an object on his desk. "No wonder he didn't reply. I found his Scroll."

Yang looked over to see Blake scanning the nearby bookshelf. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"Just seeing all what he had." Blake's attention went back to the rows of books. "He has a few of the classics, a lot of nonfiction, looks like history books, and…" An unusual binding caught her eye, forcing her to turn her head. "The Knight Paladin of Camaden," she read aloud. "Anyone heard of that before?"

Her remaining teammates shook their heads. "We'll have to borrow it, sometime."

Blake moved to take the novel from its place when a smaller, tattered book slid out when the other was moved. Curiosity of the new leather-bound book made her reach of it instead. Withdrawing it from its place revealed an earthen brown colored binding, with an unfamiliar script embossed on the cover. "I think I found something."

"This isn't an investigation," Yang said.

"I know, but," she brought the book to the group, "does anyone recognize the language?"

Weiss squinted at the cover. "I can't tell what it says, but that looks like Old Atlasian. It could also be the native tongue of Camaden."

"Only one way to find out," Ruby said. "Let's see what it says."