One heck of a closing chapter this time, but a lot of set-up for the coming book!
Now that book 2 is finished, I want to take the time once again to thank everyone who's read, been reading, or even just checked out a chapter or two. The fact anyone enjoys reading my fanfic is really awesome, and I hope I can continue to write something people enjoy reading!
And, for the part that I always don't like to do; Let me know what you guys thought, not only just of this chapter, but book 2 in general, or heck, the story, whatever you'd like! Doesn't have to be done in a review, a PM is fine if you're comfortable. Any feedback will be MUCH appreciated as I prepare the third book. What do you like about the story, what do you dislike? What do you think I do well? Poorly? Any and all suggestions are appreciated!
With the groveling out of the way, here's the end of the book!
If Weiss had learned one thing in her time as a Hunter, it was their unequivocal reliance on healers. Even the most skilled Hunters suffered injuries time to time, and shy of a missing limb, a healer could mend almost anything. Almost anything.
Weiss made the distinction for one key reason; physical wounds could be healed, yet even the most potent and skilled of healers could never touch what lay beneath.
Hunters were taught to stifle their fear in combat. Naturally, emotion was still expressed - they were all living beings, not mindless beasts like Grimm. They became excited, anxious, fearful, and even angry during combat, just as anyone might. No matter their training, regardless of their experience as a Hunter, emotion was always just below the surface.
While she had been able to leave the inn that morning, thanks in large part to the healer called into town, Weiss was far from recovered. Lingering soreness persisted, her bruised ribs repaired, yet still uncomfortable, making each breath just the slightest bit uncomfortable. The wound on her arm itched, the freshly mended skin demanding attention. Then, there was the scar over her left eye.
The healer had assured her that her vision wouldn't be affected, and they had been right. After a series of quick tests, it had been determined the wound missed anything of importance. Weiss had still fret over the injury, admittedly for little more than superficial reasons. Years spent training and she'd never suffered a scar before, something of a sign of pride for her. Now, not only would she bear a scar forever, but it was so plain than anyone who even glimpsed her way would see it too.
Disappointment pushed out a sigh from her pale lips, cold fingers running over the disfigured skin. It was thin, a near perfect vertical line stretching from her brow to just below the eye itself. She should be fortunate that it was the only scar she had to show for her encounter, and she was, yet there was something innately irritating about it still, as if she should have been good enough to not suffer it in the first place.
Stifling a yawn, her eyes drifted towards the buildings lining the road. Durham was far from bustling despite being a trading outpost - a product both of recent spikes in Grimm spawns, and the mercenaries the town employed. Her mind went back to the last item on her list, the final matter of business before they departed Durham for good. She needed to speak with May, or rather, she needed to find May first.
Fortunately, Durham was hardly a bustling center like Vale City, and after questioning one or two residents, Weiss made her way down to the canals. An air of trepidation lingered, slowing Weiss' step by just a fraction of a second, unnoticeable to anyone but herself.
Try as she might otherwise, Weiss was beset by paranoia. At any moment she could encounter Neo and not know it, or worse still, another Hunter. There was no way the Church would know of their defection so early, yet she remained uneasy, to the point that other than asking for May's whereabouts, she avoided speaking to anyone at all costs.
Weiss found May exactly where she'd been told she would, lingering outside of what had been Neo's hideout. A handful of the town's mercenaries were with her, a few coming and going. Approaching the group, she just caught wind of their conversation. They're trying to find any clues, are they? Good luck on that front…
May noticed her, and after a few hasty words with one of the men she hurried over to greet Weiss. "Huh, so you guys really did make it back alive." Okay, maybe she was coming over to disparage Weiss instead. Before any comment was made, May smiled and bowed her head a few degrees. "I'm sorry about before, and… Glad you're all okay."
Okay wasn't the right word here, because if anything they were far from okay. 'Alive' would be more apt, but Weiss bit her tongue, smiling appreciatively. "We were fortunate. Brand proved to be much more of an adventure than we expected."
"Oh? Grimm still lingering around?"
"I'm afraid so, yes," Weiss replied. "Though there was more than just Grimm as well."
May quirked an eyebrow as Weiss dug into her pouch. "Er… Before we speak, is there somewhere we can go?" Weiss pressed, glancing at the mercenaries. Somewhere private, her gaze added, which the redhead quickly picked up on.
They didn't have to go terribly far, and Weiss was surprised by just how many buildings were abandoned. "Once trade started to fizzle out, everyone who live here started to move away," May explained, noticing Weiss' wandering eyes, "Can't blame them. Not a whole lot comes through Durham anymore."
"Except the occasional traveler," said Weiss. Given Neo had been among them, she couldn't help but wonder how receptive the town would be moving forward. Then again, it didn't appear as though Durham had much going for it to warrant an attack.
An empty building just two removed from the hideout would suit their purposes. No door sat on the hinges, and Weiss waved aside a cloud of dust as May pushed aside a box to make room, politely declining when offered a seat upon it.
"Alright, so what've you got there?" May's eyes had flickered back to the paper in Weiss' hand several times, and now that they were alone, she allowed a worried expression to appear.
"Details about Brand, and moreover, how the attack came about." It was a carefully parsed down version that betrayed nothing against the Church, or even magic for that matter, but Weiss hoped it might provide some closure all the same.
Despite the clear agitation displayed, May made no sudden movements to snatch the paper. When Weiss offered it she took the page slowly, fingers trembling. Then, as if asking for permission, she glanced at Weiss who nodded encouragingly.
To her, the paper confirmed nothing and more. They knew Merlot to be responsible, and moreover, they knew how he'd committed the act. All the page May had been given would show is Merlot had done the dead, leaving out the finer details.
May's eyes poured over the sheet once, then again, enough times that Weiss questioned if she was trying to find a hidden meaning in the text. After a few moments of silence, she lowered the page, exhaling unsteadily, one hand rubbing at her face. "This guy…" she muttered, holding Weiss in a careful gaze, "He's dead?"
"Quite dead, I assure you." In no small part thanks to her own actions. Where Weiss derived no pleasure in the deed, May's mouth pulled into a satisfied, if sorrowful smile.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish," grumbled May, moving to tuck away the paper before making sure it was okay. "How'd he do it? Do you know?"
Weiss expected the usual question of 'why'. It was what most people asked after a tragic event, an often-futile attempt to make sense of an unexplainable occurrence. She had the information May sought, yet as Yang had said before, it wasn't something they should share freely. Once someone knows the truth, there was no unlearning it. Life from thereon out would becoming challenging.
Did she have the right to turn May's world upside down? She'd made a new life for herself here in Durham, and while not a glamorous existence, it was at least stable. Learning the truth would ruin everything. "He caused as much trouble as he could around Brand, and it seems your town was just in his path," she explained, her expression a careful mask.
"So, wrong place, wrong time, that kind of thing?" May laughed, a hollow sound devoid of any laughter. Her voice broke at the end and her eyes closed, hands clenched on her knees. "Sick bastard… I'm glad he's gone then. I'm just upset I wasn't the one to do it."
Barring the obvious fact that in no way would May have beaten Merlot, her response to the news was… Unsettling. Weiss would prefer her to break down and mourn instead of wishing her vengeance upon the departed. Maybe she would later, but right now only anger was shown.
May had needed to know the truth, even if only a fraction of it. Pyrrha and Ren had been against the idea, but Yang and Ruby both encouraged her, figuring it would at least bring some peace of mind. Looking at May now, Weiss couldn't say if it had brought any closure whatsoever.
"When you were there, did you happen to visit a bakery…?"
The question left Weiss scrambling for a reply. She had, but depending on the significance of the place, she loathed to answer. Searching May's face carefully, Weiss sighed and nodded once. "I did. Why do you ask?"
"That was my family's bakery. I… I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and how much I miss it…" May's lip quivered, and she closed her eyes, groaning as she rubbed at her face fitfully. Weiss would have thought no less of her for crying, but apparently her pride wouldn't allow it. "How bad…?"
Weiss' chest tightened meeting May's gaze. Behind the careful wall she'd constructed was quite a lot of pain, her eyes betraying her. Recounting the sights even now was uncomfortable, and to Weiss they were mere strangers. If that had been May's family…
Weiss could only shake her head in reply. "That bad, huh…?" May chuckled, her voice breaking again, distorting the sound. Slamming a hand against the box she sat upon, the redhead tilted her head back, pulling down her cap to try and hide herself. "Th-thanks for checking, appreciate it."
Somehow Weiss doubted that. "You know… Brand should be safe now, I think we cleared out the Grimm…" she trailed off, figuring May would easily finish the thought herself.
"Thanks… But no thanks, I… Don't think I could handle it," May muttered, shaking her head, "Seeing them…"
Weiss understood. Even without experiencing the kind of loss May had, she could understand the pain. Her mind went to her own mother, presumably still laid in her bed in Atlas. How much longer could she hold out until her illness finally won the battle? Would Weiss be able to see her before then?
The harrowing thought was snuffed out before anxiety could sink its claws in. There was too much going on without her fretting over something she couldn't control. Before her, May strained to keep her turmoil from reaching the surface, shoulders shaking visibly from the restraint. Should she offer her condolences? The attack was years past, and anything she might say now felt meaningless.
Placing her hand on May's shoulder felt paltry, but if the gesture was unwelcome, May made no effort to show that. Weiss was still unconvinced that Merlot needed to die, but seeing how May reacted to the news, and knowing what the man had done… Perhaps he hadn't needed to forfeit his life, yet at least now she could have some peace of mind knowing there wouldn't be another Brand.
Having most likely just ruined May's day, if not week, now was a good a time as any to leave. There was still plenty to do, and Weiss would prefer to get moving before it became too late, lest they be forced to travel through the night.
"Wait…" Weiss paused in the door, glancing back curiously. Whatever May had on her mind had her conflicted, and she shifted restlessly atop her box.
"I think I'm going to head to the city." May didn't catch Weiss' look of shock, fixated again on the page she'd been given. "I… I want to be a Hunter, so something like this doesn't happen again."
That was the last thing she'd anticipated hearing today. Weiss' mouth suddenly felt dry, her blue eyes flickering between the door and May herself. She should say something, warn her. There was a chance May passed initiation, became a Hunter and never learned what the Church had done. On the other hand…
"What about Durham? Aren't you the one who protects the town?"
"That's what I was talking to them for," May waved a hand outside, "I'll pay them everything I have upfront, and send them money back from the city. So long as they're here, the town should be fine."
"I thought the mercenaries were bleeding the town dry," Weiss furrowed her brow, "Why would you leave them at the mercy of people like that?"
"Because Durham isn't my responsibility?" It was an abrasively honest answer that Weiss wasn't prepared for. "I can't help other people if I'm stuck here my whole life. And sure, the mercs are taking a lot of the money but…" She shrugged, not having much else to say. "If I'm paying them too, it's not like the town's going to be broke. Heck, they might even make some money."
"May… You're emotional, think about this. You honestly think you're going to be able to pay for these people by yourself?" Weiss had to convince her not to do this. "Trust me, a Hunter's pay isn't exactly amazing."
"That's funny, coming from a Schnee." Thinking she'd almost misheard, Weiss blinked, meeting May's angry gaze. Angry wasn't the right word, perhaps… Bitter? Skeptical?
"How do you know who I am…?"
"It wasn't hard to figure out. I mean, your family's really well off, and plenty of folks know there's a Schnee in Vale." Ah, the wonderful byproduct of her family name. Being recognized by complete, utter strangers got old. "So, sorry if I don't buy the idea Hunters can't make money. Yours did."
May looked back at the paper and went silent. Weiss could be upset, try and rebuke the redhead's claim and point out her family was a special case. She could, but there was something else that caught her tongue. The pained expression which May bore made it obvious; it wasn't about Durham, or the money. "You just want to get away from here…"
Brand wasn't too far from Durham, and in all likelihood, there were people in this very town who knew what had happened. May didn't answer her, yet the silence and conflicted expression was telling enough. Weiss stepped back into the building, offering a smile as she extended a hand.
"You… I think you'll make a fine Hunter, with some training," Weiss said, able to laugh lightly when May flushed, "Though, I think you can make just as much difference without becoming one."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Hunters are simply Magi that are recognized by the Church. You can still protect a town without that title." There was more to being a Hunter than a title, but nothing prevented an everyday Magi from protecting their home from Grimm.
"If you need to leave, then leave, but think carefully before you go and become a Hunter. Once you're in, you're in until you retire. Or die." Harsh, but that was the true nature of being a Hunter, and as evidenced by May's surprise, not many realized that. "It's not just like any job, where you can move on and change positions," Weiss continued, "Once you're in and assigned a role… You're in for life."
She'd often asked herself what the reason for that was. Initially, she assumed because there were so few Hunters, and training them was so rigorous, that they couldn't afford to let people go. After everything, however, she wondered if it had more to do with keeping information from spreading.
Before she'd learned the truth, before she'd been shown the darker side of the Church, Weiss had every intention of serving as a Hunter for as long as she could. Now, she couldn't wait to get away from it.
"I'm sorry to drop this on you so suddenly…" Weiss said.
"No, I'm grateful. It's… It won't bring anyone back, but at least…" May shrugged, "At least now I know what happened."
The gratitude felt hollow, or maybe Weiss herself was dissatisfied with the conclusion. What more could have been done? Had Merlot survived, and the Church taken him in, the outcome would have been much the same; Merlot would be dead, and May would still be without her town, or her family. Weiss liked to think May somehow had closure, but now she wasn't sure anything would bring that.
… She needed to get going. For all her spells and intellect, Weiss was hopeless in trying to console May. There were no words or gestures to mend the heartache, no well wishes that would ever return her life to her.
May's life was effectively gone. Is that why she wants to be a Hunter…? The realization made Weiss view the redhead in a completely new light, biting her lip uneasily. Maybe she doesn't want to go on, maybe… She's given up?
"May…?" What was she supposed to say? Glassy eyes met Weiss', and her mind refused to work, halting like a defective cog in a machine. "Become a Magi that will make your family, no, your town proud." She felt like she was grasping at straws, but she had to say something. "You can make a difference, and you will find a place you belong," she smiled. "Maybe you already have."
The smile was so forced that it may as well not be there at all. Still, Weiss liked to think May wasn't going to just throw it away, that the only thing that had kept her going was wanting to know what had happened. Gods… I'm making myself depressed now.
At one time, Ozpin's words had instilled within them both fervor and confidence. When that man spoke to you, you felt as though you could do anything. Weiss wished she could be half the orator he was. Instead, she was left trying to piece together some semblance of well wishes. May's demeanor made it impossible to know whether her words had worked, or if she was merely speaking to the wall.
Leaving now felt wrong, like she should try and extend more aid. May had made it this far though, and if she'd managed to fight on after Brand, this news wouldn't break her resolve. That was the hope Weiss had to cling to as she left the building, sending one last glance back before walking along the canal.
The group had already gathered by the town's gates when she arrived, bags slung across their backs and ready to move. The absence of horses was a disheartening reminder that they would be on foot, and for gods know how long. They had lost half to Grimm and runes - Blake's had plummeted to its demise, leaving four people with eight horses. Combined with their equipment and supplies, there was no realistic way they could make due.
So, the horses had been sold off, and the excess Lien used to buy more supplies. None of them knew where they were heading yet, or how they might make more money, so being prepared for potentially long bouts of travel was imperative. Barely a day removed from being bedridden, the notion scarcely appealed to Weiss, but she'd have to endure, just as everyone else would.
Everyone appeared as ready as Weiss felt. The decision had been unanimous, albeit with some reservation from certain members; they would leave the Church and forge out on their own. Some, like Ruby, tried to busy themselves with idle matters, wearing a self-assuring smile, while others dawdled aimlessly, trying in desperation to think of anything other than what they were about to do.
Weiss tried to delude herself into believing the nervous beating of her heart was a war drum, spurring them along. It would be a drum only she could hear, and whose beat was so erratic, so out of tempo, that whoever was playing it should forfeit their instrument immediately.
"Are we all prepared to go?"
The question was as much for herself as it was the others. Ruby smiled as she hugged Crescent Rose, nodding quickly. "Uh-huh! Ready as ever!"
"You know I'm ready," grinned Yang, the only person among them who seemed genuinely excited about this. That, or she was simply one hell of a bluff. Nearby, Blake's chin barely tilted, signaling her preparedness.
Ren's silent nod was all the response Weiss needed, and wherever he went, Nora was sure to follow, grinning broadly and slamming a fist to her chest. Almost everyone agreed, save for two, one of whom had been the lone voice of dissent. Weiss smiled at Pyrrha, both to assure her friend things would be fine, and, she hoped, to convince her not to waver.
Jaune watched Pyrrha struggle, and Weiss was frustrated that for once, his face betrayed no emotion. If anyone could understand their weapons master, it was him, and with Jaune unreadable, Pyrrha was an enigma. "Pyr, ready to do this…?"
Ready probably wasn't the right word. It was like asking if someone was ready to jump head first into a pit of Grimm or plunge into freezing water. It was insane and arguably idiotic, but to do either you just… Went for it. Wild abandon was not Weiss' style, yet it required just that to go forward with their plan.
Pyrrha's silence wracked Weiss' nerves, and when their eyes met she dared think the worst was about to happen. "Ready…" she answered, smiling timidly as she nervously pulled at one of her wrist guards.
"Then let's get moving. Though, to where exactly…" Weiss had thought it over endlessly since waking, yet nothing had come to her. Everyone she knew was a Hunter, every place she would frequent, a Church site. "We need allies, and frankly, all of mine may well now be our enemy. Any ideas?"
Yang was nearly trembling in anticipation, and Weiss finally gestured for her friend to speak her mind, something the blonde rarely ever needed. "It's kind of a long shot, but I know someone who can help us."
"You do?" Weiss wasn't the only one surprised by Yang. It made sense though, she'd been a rogue the longest, and it would only be natural she'd made some allies. "That's wonderful," the Schnee smiled, "Who might that be?"
She'd thought Yang excited to speak, but seeing eyes flecked with red, it was obvious that anger was why Yang shook. The single name, an utterance barely above a whisper, garnered looks of uncertainty and surprise. Yang had been correct, it was very much a long shot. With no alternatives, however, a long shot was all they had.
Though the skies above were clear and the sun bright, their path forward remained clouded. Leaving the Church was inevitable once they understood how the organization operated. Aside from a vague idea of what they needed to do, no one, Yang included, knew how to go about it. There was no precedence for what they were attempting, or if there was, it had been stricken from the annals of history.
If that was the case, they would make the first mark on history, a new chapter, as it were. Eight of them make a difference, like casting a pebble into the vast ocean, but if they could find help? If they managed to recruit like-minded individuals? Maybe, just maybe, they could make a real change, hold the Church accountable for their crimes.
We won't be the first to try. Weiss recalled a certain general who had fallen from grace, wondering if he was the only man to ever attempt what they were. There had to be others, others whose stories had been erased, hidden.
Weiss refused to join the nameless. The Church's misdeeds needed to be brought to light, and come whatever may, she'd see it through to the end to ensure they were.
Clouds passed overhead, casting long shadows that stretched well out over the flat terrain. The river, tumultuous during the store, raged, albeit more calmly now, its banks a bright earthen brown, a mix of silt and clay.
Clay…
They never went to Barclay! The purpose was to meet Ruby, which they had done, but not in the intended location. Ah well, all's well that ends well, right?
/+/+/+/+/+/
Not even back to the city and he was already begin hounded by Ozpin. Nothing was said as to why his immediate return was demanded; Ozpin always did seem to enjoy being cryptic. Judging from his and Goodwitch's words, whatever was going on was big, and Qrow needed to be there for it. Hardly a day removed from completing his latest assignment and he was already on his way back. For another job, he assumed. There was always work to be done.
Being so reliable was nice - gave him a sense of pride, he supposed. Wouldn't it be damn nice though if there was someone else Ozpin could call on? Like, literally anyone else? Qrow had noticed another gray hair that morning when washing up and he was certain it hadn't been there before. Too much work was making him an old man.
Waving nonchalantly to a passing group of guards, he wove his way through the familiar city streets. Normally, he came and went before the sun was up, or under the cover of night. The timing was purely convenient, he didn't need to leave at any time, usually, those just happened to be the hours he was active.
Because of that, he wasn't used to walking in to the city midday, bustling with activity. The markets were jam packed like fish in a barrely, and he was grateful he stood a head above most, able to see despite the crowds. His shoulders bumped against numerous people as he sliced through groups, uttering halfhearted apologies.
The dichotomy of his work and being back in the city was always a bit jarring. Working alone, it wasn't uncommon for him to go days, sometimes weeks with little to no interaction with people. Grimm never were ones for conversation, and even if they could talk, he doubted he wanted to hear anything they had to say.
When alone, he found himself silently wishing someone was along with him, even just to shoot the shit with. Now that he was surrounded by people, he found himself wanting to leave almost immediately.
A familiar sensation tugged at his heart, spotting a woman with short cut brunette hair ahead of him in the crowd. For a split second the world seemed to fade around him, eyes focusing solely on the woman. When she turned, blue eyes shining brilliantly and laughing at something her friend said, Qrow snapped back to reality.
Those eyes were all wrong. That wasn't her, and he knew no one would ever be her. The closest he'd ever get to seeing her face again was a certain young lady, one who, frustratingly, he'd been unable to find.
Feeling his hand trembling, he dug into his pocket and uncorked his flask. A dark amber liquid burned down his throat, washing away his nerves like they always did. Except they never really were gone, were they? You could put on a false bravado, drink the night away, but that dull, aching pain was never really gone. No matter how he tried, it always resurfaced.
Pull yourself together, you're a freaking mess. Scratching at his stubble, Qrow ducked down a side road, flipping a coin to a beggar and nodding at their thanks. Crowds always sucked. He'd catch a glimpse of someone even remotely familiar and his mind would throw a fit. He just needed a drink, or two, enough to numb his thoughts. Yeah… Just one or two.
Unfortunately, he hadn't the luxury of time to go stop by a pub. Ozpin was calling for him, and he could feel the scrying stone burning a hole in his pocket, reluctantly withdrawing it. "Qrow," he answered simply, blinking hearing his own voice thick with emotion. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Sup? Just got back."
"Well then, do hurry, won't you?" Goodwitch's voice echoed, the stone pulsing in his hand, "It's important, and…"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way, Glynda."
"One affirmation will suffice," the proctor retorted. The silence made Qrow assume the link had been broken, and just as he was just about to pocket the stone again, Glynda spoke, her voice taking on an oddly careful tone. "Qrow, listen. About this meeting…"
"Save it for when I get there, 'kay? Not exactly in the best place to talk about stuff." The voices of a crowd spilled into the alleyway as he broke into another, less crowded road. "On my way, tell Oz to relax, before the rest of his hair goes white."
Was it white, or was it silver? Gray? No, not gray. Qrow knew what gray hair was by now, he had enough of the damn things to be familiar with it. Scornfully running a hand through his locks, he watched the light from his stone fade, returning to nothing more than a shiny, carved rock.
On the precipice of the residential district, even among the crowds, Qrow could spy the Cathedral's tower, higher than the next tallest building several times over. People often jokingly referred to the sight as a beacon to Hunters and travelers alike, so much so that the structure itself had been dubbed "Beacon" by some.
Considering how far up their own asses some priests could be, Qrow was surprised more hadn't taken the idea and run with it.
"Ah, Mister Branwen graces us with his presence once again."
The groan couldn't be suppressed upon hearing the voice, one Qrow knew all too well. No effort was made to hide his displeasure as he turned to face the priest who spoke to him, narrowing his eyes. "Are you unhappy to see me, Hunter?" the priest chuckled, spectacles reflecting light from the window. Qrow saw his own face staring back at him through the lenses, making no effort to change his countenance.
"Unhappy? Nah, I was wondering what that smell was," Qrow muttered, smirking as he cocked an eyebrow, "Figured I stepped in dog shit, nice to know I was wrong."
That fake smile the priest wore washed away with the comment, and honestly, Qrow was happier for it. There was no reason to pretend they were even remotely on friendly terms. "You know… As a member of the clergy, you really ought to treat me with some respect."
"And as a Hunter," Qrow countered easily, "You should understand when you've bit off more than you can chew." Sighing, he pulled free his flask and took a drink, secretly relishing the ireful glare he got. Drinking was explicitly prohibited in the Church halls. Well, to parishioners anyways. "Got a reason ya stopped me, Fennec?"
"I'm welcoming home one of our very own, that is all!" Fennec chuckled, gesturing wide with his arms at his sides, "Is that so wrong?"
"Coming from you? Yeah, it is," Qrow grumbled, "If it's nothin', then I've got stuff to do." Trying to step around the priest, he clicked his tongue in annoyance as Fennec moved with him. Moving left, so too did the other man. Sighing, Qrow sank his hands into his pockets, restricting his overwhelming desire to give Fennec a good knock to the head.
"If you've got something to tell me, then get it over with," the Hunter said, eyes flickering to the lift just behind Fennec, "Oz is expecting me, and you wouldn't want to make him mad, would ya?"
If the threat phased Fennec then he didn't show it, wearing his smile boldly. "That's what I wished to speak to you about, actually. Rumor has it you're going to be quite excited by your next assignment."
Whatever this idiot was playing at, Qrow wasn't about to bite. "That right?"
"Ah, but it's not my place to tell you, now is it? Besides…" Fennec looked past Qrow, welcoming the next wave of citizens who funneled their way inside. Giving Qrow a knowing smirk, he stepped aside, his fox ears twitching happily, which was never a good sign. "Seems I have another sermon to lead. Do try to have a wonderful day, won't you?"
The well wishes were enough to make him want to hurl, doubly so coming from the likes of Fennec. Qrow rolled his eyes, shouldering past the priest and ignoring his taunting grin as he entered the lift. Times like these he hated the lattice doors, finding himself forced to stare at the man until the lift hauled him away.
Chains ground against one another above the lift, and though he'd been assured constantly they were fine, they sure didn't sound fine. Neither did the way the lift seemed to scrape against the walls of the tower, as if the space wasn't large enough to accommodate. There were other lifts, sure, but they were always in use, including the one which would take him directly to Ozpin. So, he'd opted for the lesser used, arguably more dangerous lift instead, deciding to expedite things.
That it stopped two floors below Ozpin's room didn't help things, but at least it was less distance to travel, and hopefully, less of a wait. Stepping out of the lift, he halted the door with his foot. A young woman with purple hair and green eyes smiled before rushing in, thanking him in a quiet voice. The color combination was what caught his attention, but her… Features, really drew him in. Smirking, winked flirtatiously, flashing the woman a grin as she flustered, averting her eyes shyly.
He still had it. That, or she was embarrassed to be hit on by an old man. His mind drifted back to the gray hair he found, and he scowled, reaching up to pluck it before thinking better of it. The damn thing would just grow back anyway, no use in balding himself.
Maybe he should have taken the main lift. Instead of arriving and getting ahead of the crowd, he was now waiting on them. Stuck in what amounted to little more than office space, Qrow sighed and glanced around. A handful of desks lined the room, the people at them keeping their heads low, whether out of deference or pure disinterest he wasn't sure. They looked to be cataloguing things, and he assumed they were probably fresh members of the library, doing all the boring crap their superiors didn't want to do.
Least the room's got a decent view. They weren't quite as high up as Ozpin's space, so the entire town wasn't visible from here. The way that the large oak in the plaza just barely reached the window though, its greenery breaking the monotony of a sea of brick and stone, made the small space feel a bit more welcoming. The blonde Meera glancing his way didn't hurt either, and Qrow had to chuckle as she quickly averted her gaze, trying to make it obvious like she wasn't staring.
A little harmless flirting, nothing more. Glynda always snapped at him for looking, and he was swift to point out he never touched or made any inappropriate remarks. Hell, he rarely if ever looked anywhere other than a woman's face! It was insulting that she assumed was just a pervert, when really, he was more scrupulous than most gave him credit for.
Where was this stupid lift? Teasing the Meera girl was fun, but he really needed to get upstairs. Come to think of it… Why wasn't there a damn staircase? Glynda had said once they couldn't make room for the lifts and stairs both, and maybe that was true, but stairs would be a hell lot more convenient. Honestly, he just figured most priests were too lazy to be asked to walk.
Reaching up at his chest, his finger skimmed along the outline of a brooch hidden beneath his shirt. He'd seen it a million times, knew every line, every fold, more familiar with the piece than his own hand. Closing his eyes, he imagined how the circular piece spiraled inward, how at the very top it split into three, giving the illusion of a budding rose. He could see the color, once a brilliant silver, faded and dirtied by years of wear. No matter how careful he was with it, keeping it pristine was impossible.
The gentle ding of the lift pulled Qrow from his musings, and after a pair of Hunters stepped out he hurried inside. Whatever Ozpin had to say would be quick, he hoped. After not running into his niece on his way back he'd planned on sending a letter, and from what he heard, she should be somewhere between Durham and Barclay. Not an exact location, but with enough time - and incentive, a courier would find her.
Mulling over the contents of what he'd even write, Qrow trudged out of the lift, watching the gate creak closed behind him. Even the main lift didn't always seem the most stable. Made him wonder what the heck the Church spent its near limitless funds on. Sure as hell wasn't a lift.
He expected the ever-scornful gaze of Glynda to greet him, yet surprisingly found her desk empty when he entered the hall. Ozpin's door was closed, as it ever was, and with no one to show him in Qrow waltzed right on up, throwing the door open unceremoniously. Some small part of him almost expected to find a horrible sight, knowing Glynda's… Fascination with their boss.
"Don't you know how to knock?!" Glynda snapped, setting down the stack of papers she'd been holding. Ah, sweet, sweet normalcy.
"Don't you know how to greet your guests?" Barely suppressing a laugh as Glynda scowled, he eased the door behind him shut, promptly removing his flask. "Jeez, you told me to be quick, so I was, and you weren't even there to say hi. I'm hurt, Glynda."
Ozpin smiled slightly amused, or maybe it was a forced pleasantry. Hard to know with him even after all these years. "She was helping me go over a few documents, actually. Apologies if you found your welcome wanting."
Not that he'd expected a parade or fanfare, nor did he even mind the fact Glynda hadn't been there, he almost preferred it. "Nah, just pressin' her buttons, no big deal." The proctor huffed, circling around the desk and folding her arms at her back, likely to refrain from casting a spell at his smug face. Pressing his luck, he blew the woman a kiss. If looks could kill, he'd drop dead on the spot.
"So, what's up? The way you made it sound, this job's pretty big. Something happen?"
Stupid question, of course something happened, otherwise he wouldn't have been called back so soon.
"There's been a… Development, and we think you're best suited for the job," Ozpin explained. When wasn't he? It was the same shtick he was given any time he walked into this place? And just like every time he came here he was offered tea, which was, as always, cheekily turned down in favor of his flask.
"I do apologize for recalling you so suddenly, but this is a matter that must be addressed swiftly, lest it blossom into a larger problem. I know how you detest tracking people down, but your skillset makes you, as I said, best suited."
Was he mistaken, or did Glynda look worried? Not just the usual "did I forget to press one of Ozpin's favorite ties, the only ones he wore" kind of worried, but a genuine concern. Something was bothering her, and it perplexed Qrow that Ozpin didn't seem to be addressing it. Rather, he was almost ignoring her entirely.
"Okay…" Not much of a verbose reply, but there wasn't much more to be said. Qrow moved closer at Ozpin's behest, glancing at the folder laid before him. It wasn't very heavy, which was good. Heavy meant a lot of reading, and he didn't have the patience for that right now.
"In light of recent events - Ludlow, Mount Glenn, and most recently, Vindemia…"
"Huh? Vindemia?" Qrow repeated.
Ozpin brow raised slightly, the motion barely perceptible. He let out a sigh, glancing Glynda briefly before smiling. "It seems our messenger never found you then. There was an attack at the vineyard, I'm afraid. Lord Vindemia was murdered."
The news of a nobleman dying ought to have hit him harder, but Qrow barely blinked. He wasn't one for bureaucracy, and most nobles he met were pompous, brutish and other insulting, sophisticated words his alcohol addled brain couldn't come up with right now. Whatever that mead he had in his flask was, it was good. He really needed to go back to that place and get more.
"Reports on the incident are... Conflicting. First, it appeared that one of our own had committed the deed, and then we received word that an illusionist was responsible, corroborating with a White Fang member." The White Fang, huh? He hadn't seen those jerks since Ludlow. Dang, he was just starting to hope they'd take a break from being a pain in the neck.
"Unfortunately, we haven't been able to locate the illusionist in question, though we do have a general idea of her appearance, and her capabilities," Ozpin concluded.
"So, you want me to go find this girl, is that it?" Qrow waved the folder questioningly.
"Not exactly. While the woman in question is a pressing concern, there's something more immediate that requires your attention." Ozpin gestured to the folder, nodding for it to be opened. Qrow did exactly that, and immediately froze on the first page.
Staring back at him was a sketch he recognized immediately. The words 'Ice Queen' silently formed on his lips, reading over the text scrawled beside it. This was a… Report? Mentions of her time in Mount Glenn, and reports revealing her activity from thereon out.
Weiss' file wasn't the only one inside the folder. He saw Pyrrha's immediately after, then Jaune's. "These are all the kids we just promoted." The statement had the upward inflection of a question, and Qrow's brow furrowed as he looked the papers over closely. This was everything about their most recent missions, and, somewhat unnervingly, notes on their latest private meetings.
"We have reason to suspect that Miss Schnee has been compromised, Qrow, and she may have dragged her friends into this game of hers." The words left Ozpin's mouth as casually as though they were discussing the weather. "Naturally, this is an issue. We can't have anyone spreading fallacies about the Church."
"Who'd she meet…?" Qrow asked, fingers lingering between two pages.
Ozpin's smile subsided, if barely, reclining in his seat with a sigh. "I think you know exactly who."
It took a second to think, mulling over the options. Carefully, he thumbed through the pages, and spotting a startlingly familiar face within the stack, it confirmed his suspicions. "Firecracker…"
"Miss Xiao Long met Miss Schnee, though we're uncertain when. Sometime preceding the events at Mount Glenn, most likely. We have reason to suspect she's responsible for Weiss'... Clouded judgment. We also have reports that Miss Xiao Long may be traveling with these children on their latest mission."
He really didn't like where this was going. Yang's sketch stared back at him, unblinking, as cold sweat stained his clothes. He'd seen her a couple of times here and there, checking up on her, but he'd never done as he was told. Did Ozpin know that?
"Now… If it were just Miss Schnee that had been compromised, we could handle this in a more… Favorable manner. With so many of our youths being made to question the very essence of the Church, however, there's only one solution, I'm afraid."
Qrow's jaw set tightly as he looked up at Ozpin. This was what Fennec had been all smiles about, and why even now, Glynda refused to meet his gaze. The head of Vale's Church stared back at him, unblinking. At least that half-smile was gone now.
"You want me to kill these kids." Qrow's voice was flat, even as he continued to sweat, heart sinking. Ozpin's nod made him spiral even further, narrowing his eyes as he looked back at the folder.
"Why not just deal with Yang? They don't all gotta die, do they?"
Ozpin sighed, though the sound was more exasperated than sympathetic, Qrow noticed. "Once the seeds of doubt are planted, they'll continually question things. We're walking a tenuous enough path as it is trying to maintain peace without our own casting uncertainties. To answer your question… Yes, they do. There's little alternative, I'm afraid."
He'd done some things in his time as a Hunter that he wasn't particularly proud of. Okay, a lot of things, many of which haunted him. It had always been for the greater good, for the sake of all of Remnant. Normally, that was enough, at least enough to help him sleep at night. This though…?
Killing these kids wasn't going to happen, Qrow decided, and that was before he flipped to the final page. A set of wide, cheery eyes stared back at him, and even though the image was colorless, he knew those eyes were a bright silver, and the hair black like his own, with stripes of red strewn through.
"This goes beyond familial ties, Qrow," Ozpin cautioned, folding his hands together on his desk. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice enough to make Qrow inch forward to hear him. "These children, some of them, hold immense sway. If they began dispensing lies, the damage would be nigh irreversible. We can't afford that level of discord."
Qrow's mind was doing backflips as he tried to process everything. He'd never known Yang and Weiss had met up. If they'd run into each other at mount Glenn, where else might they have met? In the city? Ludlow? How close had he been to catching his niece and the Ice Queen without knowing it?
"I need your answer, Qrow," Ozpin said, "There are other Hunters capable of this task. I merely thought you'd prefer to handle it yourself."
Why, because then he'd get to kill his own nieces? Some favor. Setting down the folder, Qrow removed his flask and drank, and drank, until the last of the contents slipped down his throat. Despite the liquor, or perhaps because of it, his hands shook, and though he'd just drank, his throat felt dry.
"Let me look into it, before I go executing kids who don't deserve it." Ozpin's questioning gaze prompted him to explain further. "We know Yang's gotten into some stuff, and maybe she's planted some ideas in the Schnee's head, but we don't know about the others. Let me figure out what they know first."
"There's a very likely chance they've all been tricked by now, Qrow. Chances are, it's too late."
"Yeah, well, chances are she hasn't told them anything, either. For all we know, Yang's travelin' with them under a false name, or pretending to be someone else." The idea didn't live up to scrutiny if Ruby was involved, but it was the only hope he had of going after them without an order to kill on sight.
Ozpin noticed the discrepancy immediately, sighing as he removed his spectacles. "Qrow… You're one of our best, and more than capable of handling novices, even this many. If you're too emotionally invested because of relations, I'll have someone else -"
"I'll do it," Qrow stated firmly. Was it him, or did the piece hanging around his neck just grow heavier? Swallowing back and stifling the emotion that threatened to break him, he stared back at Ozpin carefully. "I'm figuring out what they know before I go attackin' anyone though."
Would be take the compromise? "They're all really good, you've said so yourself. If we don't have to kill them all, shouldn't we try savin' them?"
There weren't many Hunters to begin with, and fewer still that showed the promise these kids did. Beyond that, Ruby and Yang were the last reminders he had of her. That, and the lifeless piece of metal he carried with him everywhere. Family or potential future prospects; which angle would Ozpin think he was taking?
"... Ascertain what they've been told, and whether or not you deem them salvageable." The way Ozpin spoke about these kids like objects struck the wrong chord, but Qrow kept his disdain well hidden. "If there's little hope in keeping them on our side…"
"Deal with 'em. Yeah, I got it, Oz."
"Excellent. That document will detail all of their magic, as well as their more… Intimate profiles. Should it come to a battle, you'll have everything you need to beat them."
Qrow glanced at the folder, its edges crinkling under his vicelike grip. If they had one of these on the kids, then it was safe to assume there was one on him, too, and all the other Hunters besides. It seemed normal to keep records of the people who worked for you, but this… This was a bit much.
"I do not need to stress the importance of your mission, but I'll say it again regardless. We can ill afford someone of these children's standing," Ozpin reiterated, "To propagate lies. I won't deny their promise as Hunters is great, but frankly, I value the safety of my kingdom over their futures, if I'm perfectly blunt."
My kingdom. The royal family led Vale, yet Ozpin had just referred to it as my kingdom. Qrow nodded, straightening himself out and giving Glynda one final glance. He was just as furious she remained silently compliant in all of this, as if the deed being asked of him wasn't beyond wrong.
"Godspeed, Qrow. I hope this matter is resolved swiftly and we can all put this unpleasant business behind us." Unpleasant was one way of putting it. Outright shitty was more accurate. "Gods praise the Church, and praise be to the Gods."
Qrow glanced once more at the folder, nodding stiffly. "Yeah…" With how much of a wreck his mind was right now, it took all his fortitude to even utter that single word.
Walking out of the Cathedral had never felt so tense. Every step of the way Qrow swore eyes were on him, and everyone he passed was most certainly watching his every move. Eyes forward, he marched right through the sermon, which thankfully Fennec was much too preoccupied with to call out to him.
Ozpin thought he was going to go through with this, huh? In hindsight, that made sense. It wouldn't be the first time he'd dealt with a "problem". Sure, the folks he killed were legitimately batshit crazy or dangerous, but this was different. Aside from spreading some lies - and even then, if that, what had these kids done?
They'd developed a certain rapport, him and Ozpin, and earned his place as one of the bishop's most trusted Hunters. Maybe that was why he'd given Qrow the leeway he had.
Yeah, maybe. And maybe you'll get along with your sister next.
Call it paranoia, or just anxiety - whatever it was, Qrow left the city in a hurry, taking the time only to refill his flask and buy some few supplies. The same day he'd arrived, and he was on his way out again, only this time… There wasn't a chance in hell he'd be coming back.
So, in case anyone forgot, Barclay was where they were initially supposed to meet Ruby. One thing led to another, however, and they never quite got there. In the end it doesn't much matter, but Weiss being the stickler she can be, remembers little details, like where they were supposed to go for a mission.
Hopefully that's got some folks eager for what's coming in the next book, since I hinted at it pretty heavily with Qrow's bit.
Thanks for reading, as always! I'm taking a week off to get my bearings and iron out some details, which means...
Book 3 start date: August 3rd(or 4th, most likely 3rd). Be there, or be an undisclosed four-sided shape!