That feeling when you wake up sick again but are like "ffs I missed last chapter to sickness; gonna have to power through this one". Taken some painkillers, feeling them start to kick in, going to power this out!

Cover Art: Z-ComiX

Chapter 109

The city was in uproar. Mourning. Officially, at least. Everyone Ruby had grown up with had neither seen the royal family nor felt their presence as anything other than guards beating them, taking bribes and often both at the same time. The royals would have never come down to the slums and the Dredgers didn't want them there. It was probably the same for most people in the Merchant's Quarter. They technically paid taxes to and were nominally loyal to the royal family, but only because they lived in Vale, and it was expected of them.

What was also expected were the ornate carriages, the throngs of people dressed in black, and the mournful dirges sang by choirs accompanied by vast woodwind and brass orchestras. The city-wide funeral wasn't mandatory – no one was out there enforcing it – but everyone was expected to attend, and the silent shunning that came on those who didn't was enough to have Ruby stood between Pyrrha and Sun, tense and uncomfortable as the Arcanists flocked in controlled groups. Their usual colourful robes exchanged for pitch black. Not the black of the Black Arcana, which was often trimmed with silver or gold, but thick, heavy black robes that concealed their faces and gave them the appearance of hermits or beggars.

They had been arranged in formations. Each Arcana was to stand separate; each was to stand side by side with another Arcanist and before them stood the Collegium Guards. As a Newblood, Sun was behind and to her left, his armour replaced with a simple black tunic tucked into black pants, his sword replaced with a silvered dagger strapped to his belt.

Ruby wanted to say something but no one else was and she was afraid to be the odd one out. Everyone kept their hands linked and heads bowed as the carriage rumbled past them. Ruby looked up as the golden and jewel-encrusted coffins balanced atop a carriage drawn by six beautiful white horses glinted in the morning light. That so much wealth was going to be buried, or interred in the royal tombs, suddenly explained why graverobbing was such a dangerous occupation – and a lucrative one.

Children walked slowly behind the carriage and threw rose petals up into the air and down onto the cobbled streets. They were all fresh and clean children, so probably nobles given an important part in the funeral procession. Slowly, loudly, they made their way by, with a second marching assortment of musical instruments bringing up the rear, repeating the same dirge.

Talk about a show, Ruby thought to herself. The whole city had ground to a halt for this. Shops were closed in solidarity and every member of the city guard wore black. Flags had been dipped, great banners had been unfurled in mourning and people wept dramatically in the streets as if it were their family that had been attacked.

She didn't understand any of it. Not just because of the slums, but because she doubted any of those sobbing people had ever met the king and queen, let alone befriended them. She could respect the dead as well as anyone else, but cry for strangers? Less so. It was even harder when she knew this was no accident.

This was murder.

And riding within the carriage that contained the bodies of the king and queen was the one responsible. Lady Glynda Goodwitch was riding with the crown prince, along with other trusted advisors. It should have been the Grand Arcanist, but she was the current stand-in. With the dissenting king gone, she would probably become the Grand Arcanist officially. There was no one left to object.

How fortunate the Grimm didn't decide to attack today, she thought sarcastically. Awfully considerate of them.

Of course, no one else was wondering how a small group of Grimm penetrated the outer walls, the inner walls, guards and Arcanists, to strike at the safest place in the city and kill the royal couple. It was a tragedy, but that was all it was. A terrible coincidence and yet another casualty to those evil Grimm. Grimm that only the Arcanists could defeat, who the city would have to turn to for the Collegium to rout those monsters once and for all.

It made Ruby sick. It made her tremble.

Pyrrha misunderstood it and took her hand, smiling weakly with watery eyes. Ruby squeezed back if only to avoid any questions, ducked her head and glared down at the petal-strewn floor.

Lady Arc knew the truth, and soon many other noble families would. What would come of it all, she didn't know, but it sounded like something that could spark unrest. Hopefully that would only involve the Collegium and the Upper District. Hopefully, it wouldn't involve the Grimm.

And hopefully, she could get Yang and Blake out before it all kicked off.

As the funeral wound down, the caskets were taken to the royal palace, where anyone who wished to could come, kneel and say a few words. Obviously, when they said "anyone" they meant anyone of means and worth, because a donation was required, which would go to completing some great works in the king and queen's honour. Not a statue thankfully – she'd heard mention of a beautiful garden or park. Of course, that park would still be in the upper district and for the enjoyment of the nobles, but at least it wasn't something too gawdy.

Ruby had no interest in looking at some closed caskets and turned down Pyrrha's offer. Fortunately, she had the excuse of being too poor to afford the donation. Pyrrha offered to pay for her. "No. It's okay. I hardly even knew of them. I haven't even lived in Vale for a year. It wouldn't be right. Don't let me stop you though."

"I'll say some words on your behalf."

Ruby forced out a smile. "Thank you."

Sun crept up to stand beside her and watch Pyrrha leave. When she did, he laughed under his breath. "You think this is weird as well, huh?"

"Everyone is acting like they knew them…"

"Maybe the nobles did," he said. "I grew up in the Merchant's Quarter. Ain't like we ever saw them. Barely even saw the nobles. They had servants to come and buy things for 'em."

"You're not saying a few words then?"

"I'll say `it's a shame` and `they didn't deserve it` but I ain't paying for the privilege if that's what you mean."

It was funny. In the slums, they'd always seen the merchants as being pretty much the same as nobles. High class people. They weren't that different however, and the merchants felt the exact same way against the tier higher up than them.

"Where's Jaune?" she asked. "Did he not come?"

"He's feeling under the weather. Was throwing up this morning. The captain decided it'd be worse for him to be here and hurling than not, so he's back in the barracks."

Jaune was sick? Ruby bit her lip. "Is he alright?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds. He was laughing about it last night. He's there, acting normal, just not able to keep anything down. I promised to bring him back some soup once this is all over." Sun nudged her with his elbow. "You want to come with?"

It was as good an excuse to avoid the drudgery of the funeral as any. "Sure."

/-/

The Collegium gates were open and unguarded for perhaps the first time in decades. There was no use trying to contain the people coming and going, and the White must have decided that it was better they be seen as part of the community than keep all the Initiates inside. That probably meant Arcanists were being stationed at the funeral to prevent any accidents, and role call for the Initiates would keep track of who hadn't come back. It also meant the Collegium was, for the most, part deserted. Not entirely. The two of them weren't the only people who didn't join in the mourning. Some didn't care or disliked the royal family and so stayed back. Others prioritised their own research and magic.

Unfortunately, the cafeterias were closed. Everyone had the day off for mourning aside from absolutely necessary services. Sun brought them to the barracks instead, which had its own kitchen. Empty as everywhere else but stocked all the same.

"Can you cook?" she asked Sun.

"Can you?" he fired back.

"I can make simple stuff…"

Boil things, cook them. She didn't know how to make much else because they hadn't had much to cook with, but Ruby was confident she could throw stuff in a pot and boil it into a stew.

"I can cook." Sun said, gathering some vegetables and also a whole, skinned and plucked chicken. "Cut these carrots for me. Thin chunks. Then move onto the leeks when you're done."

"Kay…"

Ruby took a knife and began at it, watching as Sun flipped and cut into the chicken meat, segmenting it into various sections and boiling water, which he put the bones and carcass into. He was confident with it, and Ruby wouldn't have thought to cook those parts at all.

"Mom taught me to cook," he said as he worked. "Dad ran a small trading company. Mostly, he moved stuff around for other people, but he'd buy and sell on the side. He was always working, so mom would cook and I'd help her. The other boys used to tease me for it. Said cooking wasn't a man's job. No one here does. Knowing how to cook when you're on a long march, it's pouring down with ran and everyone is cold and miserable instantly makes you the most popular person in camp. Means I don't have to stand watch, too."

"I didn't realise you were a cook."

"I'm not really. We all have little jobs when we're out. Some people are dedicated watches, some are medical care, and some are logistics. We're all guardsman and we all fight first of all, but it's handy if everyone has one thing they're good at around camp. I like this. Beats having to stay awake for four hours keeping watch while everyone sleeps."

Sun moved the bubbling pot to a firepit and began cooking the chicken meat over a hot, cast-iron pan. Soon, they were sizzling and darkening, and the smell filled the kitchens. Waving to her, he took the vegetables and began to brown them in the pan as well, then took the bones and carcass from the broth, poured it through a linen cloth she was made to hold out over another pot to catch the solids, then shifted the vegetables and meat into the new pot with the strained-off broth.

Ruby took a sniff. "It smells amazing!"

"Chicken is good for the stomach and veggies are good for the body. We'll crush up some bread to sprinkle in it too. That's to give it weight." Sun took a ladle and dipped it in for a sip, then offered some to her. She didn't think twice and sampled it, making a happy humming sound as she did.

"So good!"

"Ha! It's not that good. Probably nothing like the fancy foods you're used to."

If she were being honest then it was only a little worse than what the food hall offered, and only because that was the richest stuff imaginable. It was still far beyond what Yang and she had growing up. "It's good," she insisted. "I'd eat this all the time and be happy."

"Heh. You're too sweet sometimes." Sun crunched some bread up into the pot, then pointed. "Grab me three bowls and a tray off there, will you? There are some loaves from this morning in that cupboard. Yeah, that's it. Get one. We'll slice it up and toast 'em a little, then serve."

Once she had the bowls back, Sun poured the contents of the pot between them, making sure to ladle out the chunks of chicken and soft vegetables. He then toasted the bread over the fire before poking them into the broth so they were half submerged, half sticking out.

"Ta-dah. My mother's patented sickness recipe. Sure to soothe an upset stomach. Or if not, to at least overpower it." Ruby giggled at the idea. It was hearty enough for sure. "You know," he said casually, "Most nobles wouldn't stand around and watch me cook, let alone chop vegetables or fetch plates because I asked."

"I guess I'm not like most nobles."

"Don't I know that." He hefted a tray with the bowls balanced on. "You remind me of the girls back home. All rough and tumble." He stepped out the door she held open for him. "It's hard being surrounded by prissy people all the time. Half the Newbloods here are spare heirs from noble families too. They treat the place like a clubhouse."

"The commander always seemed so strict to me…"

"Oh for sure. Lord Winchester doesn't care who you or your parents are when it's time for training or drills, but outside of that we're left to our own stuff. It's not unusual for us common-born to be seen as labour by the high-born ones. They order us around, take the piss and dangle coin over our heads like it's nothing. Most of us are here because we need to earn money. If you have someone to look after back home, it can be tempting to bend the knee and play into their bullshit for some lien." He sighed. "It's a slippery slope if you do…"

Things were the same wherever you went it seemed. Not that life in the slums had been too different. She hadn't bowed to nobles, but Junior demanded respect and obedience, and the threat had always been there that the two of them might be turfed out onto the streets or sold to the madam's brothels. People liked power, and those in it were desperate to keep it.

Just like the White Arcana and the Collegium as a whole. They're already the most powerful group in the city but it's not enough, and now they've killed the king and queen to get more.

It wasn't hard to see where it was going. Glynda would offer a helpful ear and some advice to the crown prince as he was coronated, then position herself as a trusted advisor. Once he asked for their aid, the Collegium would sweep in and heroically deal with the Grimm, saving Vale and its people. They'd be rewarded with power, influence and wealth, all of which would be used to make the Collegium's position even better.

They were undeniably working in the best interests of the Arcanists, so she supposed Glynda would say they were doing their jobs. It was just that they were willing to ruin the lives of other people to get it, and step over any laws in their way.

"Jaune isn't like that, right?"

"Nah. Course he isn't. Not everyone is, either." Sun admitted. "Half of the highborn here couldn't give a damn, but the loud minority ruins it. Course, there's some of my kind that do it just as bad the other way round. I try and stay out of it."

Probably the best he could do. Ruby kept moving ahead of Sun and opening doors for him until they reached the staircase leading upwards. On the second floor, they chatted their way down the corridor until they reached Sun and Jaune's dorm.

"It should be open," Sun said. "Jaune!" he yelled. "We're coming in. Ruby's here so put your pants on." He winked at her and swayed in when she pushed the door open. "Your highness, your dinner is…" Sun trailed off. "Served…?"

He wasn't there. Ruby could see the bed he must have been resting on – it was wet with sweat and there was a stinky metal pail nearby that he must have been throwing up into. It hadn't been cleaned out.

"Do you think he felt bad and went to the Emerald Arcana for healing?"

"No." Sun sounded certain, and it took Ruby a few seconds to realise why. Emerald magic wouldn't have any effect on him. "We'll check the infirmary here." He set the bowls down, worry showing through his once-confident expression. "Follow me."

The infirmary was one attached to the barracks, and it was empty but for a single woman with her left leg bandaged up. Sun apparently recognised and talked to her, but she shook her head. "I've been here since last night," she said. "I never saw Lord Arc come in. Are you sure he didn't go to the funeral?"

"I left him in his room. He was too sick."

"Maybe his family came for him?"

Not likely. Juniper had already told Ruby her attempts to visit her son were being rejected, and Nicholas Arc was employed inside the Sanctum. Maybe Jaune took his chance to walk out the gates, but she doubted they would let him.

"He could have recovered and gone to clear his head."

"He'd have left a note. He always does."

That was what she was afraid of. "I'll ask around the White," Ruby told a visibly worried Sun. "You can look where he might normally go."

"Right. Meet back here in thirty?"

"Yeah."

Sun sprinted off one way and Ruby went the other, heading straight for the Sanctum. The White Cathedral might have more likely had the answers she wanted but the funeral was still in process, so Goodwitch would be with the prince. She would stay with him until he was coronated tomorrow morning, or so she'd heard. A very quick coronation according to custom but expedited because of the Grimm threat.

More like expedited because he'll be able to stamp his approval on the next Grand Arcanist quicker this way.

The Sanctum kay quiet but not unattended. Not this time. Huntsmen guarded the entrance and the interior. Nicholas Arc was there, his white hair lank and his face sallow and worn far beyond his real age. Ruby charged up to the desk and slapped her hands down on it. "Have you seen Jaune!?"

Nicholas looked up slowly. Dully. "Who?"

"Jaune!" she snapped. "Your son! Have you seen your son?"

"My… son…? My son. How is my son? He must be so small. I should bring back some treats for him-"

"Nicholas! Think! Jaune is a grown man. He's in the Arcanum. He's a huntsman!" He flinched, either at her volume or what she was saying. Ruby hoped it was the latter. "We can't find him. Do you know where he would be? Where do they take new huntsmen?"

"New… take… son…" He closed his eyes and visibly struggled to remember. "He could… They… When it's time, when they – we – can no longer live normally." He cupped his head with both hands. "Remember. Hurts. Think!" This time he snarled the words out. "Sanctum. S-Sanctum."

"We're already in the Sanctum!"

"No. Inner sanctum. Inner."

"What's in the inner sanctum?"

"Quiet!" Nicholas hissed, sounding much more lucid than he usually did. Even that appeared to cause him pain. "There must always be…" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It is the source, an expansion of our power. Our curse. To cover the building. Something unliving cannot be anti-magic. It's not the building that stops magic."

She'd figured it wasn't. If there was a way to make an area immune to magical spells, then they'd have thrown them all over the walls and they wouldn't need huntsmen to guard this place. They could even make nets that prevented magic, or tie Rogues up with anti-magic chains. The only thing she'd ever seen be able to ignore magic entirely were the huntsmen. Jaune, his father and the others born with that odd ability.

As for the Sanctum, she'd sort of assume it was something of a concentrated effect. Lots of huntsmen working together and just sort of causing their fields to overlap until the whole building was covered. That would have explained why the White wanted to recruit them so badly and keep them locked in the Sanctum even after the mental faculties deteriorated.

"The Sanctum is the source," he repeated. "It feeds… is fed… We must keep it fed."

Ruby's stomach dropped out. "Is this a living thing? Are you talking about sacrifices?"

"No. No, no. It is… artefact? Object. Yes, an object. It…" He scrunched his face up and planted his hand down on the desk, gripping the wood's edge. "It concentrates us. A way to stretch our curse out. Expand it. Make it outward instead of inward."

"To make a huntsman's anti-magical field cover a building?"

"Yes." He looked relieved she understood. "But not one. Many."

"Many huntsmen?"

"Yes. Time spent… It is our job. Must guard Sanctum, must spent time in Inner Sanctum. Painful," he whispered. "Hate it. We hate it!" Louder. He closed his eyes. "But we must. Sacrifice. For greater good."

Never had Ruby hated those words so much. "The greater good of who, Nicholas?"

"Who? Of all…"

"Is it? Or is it just for the greater good of the Collegium? A lot of the people trapped in here aren't even bad people! They weren't violent; they were just locked away because they did things the White didn't like, or they were born different. Born with powers that frighten people."

"No." He shook his head, but then surprised her by saying, "Do not speak it. You will… trouble. They will c-change your mind."

Ruby leaned in, her voice a whisper. "You know…?"

"I know? Knew. Know. Hard to remember. This isn't… it's not a life you want. Not a life I want. Not for him…"

"Jaune?" When he looked confused, she added, "Your son?"

"My son. Yes. He is free."

"He isn't free. He's gone missing. Could they have put him in the inner sanctum?"

"Missing? Yes. They could have. Painful but… safe." He gripped her hand by the wrist tightly. "Do not risk. Those who enter… do come back. Always. Cannot afford to lose us."

She assumed he meant the White couldn't afford to lose huntsmen. They probably couldn't if they were needed to keep the Sanctum going. Not just this one, but the others across the Kingdoms in their own variants. "So, Jaune will be okay?"

"Not okay. Never okay. Alive but hurt. Nothing you can do," he said.

"But-"

"Not here!" He stressed the word and Ruby's eyes widened. "Help outside, yes. In here, no. Save him. Get him out. It… It changes you. Makes this faster." He pointed to his head, and she had the sinking suspicion he meant more than just his white hair progressing faster. "It takes and takes and more comes and then things start to slip away. You forget. Small at first, then your name, your family, your life. Eventually…" He groaned. "Eventually, you forget to eat, drink, bathe. Forget and starve. Or, if someone helps, forget one day to breathe. Fall over. Like a statue. Nothing left…"

"Is that… Is that Jaune's fate…?"

"All fate. All ours." With a heavy groan, he sat back, spent. There was sweat on his brow, as if this short conversation had exhausted him. "It might not be," he whispered. "This makes it go faster. Makes them all go away too fast. Without this, without the Sanctum, it might be slower. Might be slow enough to not happen."

"But you don't know."

"No. It is our duty to serve here. No choice. Agreement…"

"Agreement with whom?"

"King." Nicholas said. "City. Law. Those discovered must serve. Have no choice." He looked up at her, eyes hazy. "He does not belong here. Run now. Hide. Wait. L-Look after him when he comes back. His hands." Nicholas pointed to the palms of his hand. They were pitted and scarred. "He does not… My son should not be here. I should not be here. Save him. Please."

"I… I'll try my best… He's my friend. I care for him. Are you… Are you sure I can't go into this inner sanctum and at least make sure he's okay? You could take me there."

"You will die."

He sounded so sure. "Is it that bad? Is it the anti-magic field? Can only huntsmen survive it?"

"No. Orders. Any Arcanist, any, no matter rank, no matter authority, any Arcanist who enters Inner Sanctum must be killed. Immediate."

"Any!?"

"They would not spare you. They would not spare the Grand Arcanist."

Ruby gulped. That sounded bad. "Who made this order? Who did it come from? Was it an order from one of the first Grand Arcanists? Is it a law of the city?"

"Sanctum law. White Arcana…"

Of course. Who else could it have been? The Sanctum was run by them, and they would do anything to keep it running. That said, she couldn't believe they'd go so far as to order the huntsmen to even kill their own. What were they hiding down there? How important was this inner sanctum? The questions burned, but she was on her own without any magic and trying to force the issue alone would be a death sentence.

For now, she'd tell Sun. Tell him everything she'd learned here. He would be able to fight, and if Jaune didn't come back then maybe they could try and get him out. Or maybe he'd come back safe and sound. Hopefully, he would, though it wouldn't last for long.

I promised to get Cinder and Adam out of here. Maybe I can do that and help Jaune at the same time. His mother might be interested in hearing this as well. If she isn't busy dealing with the king's murder.

With one last look at Nicholas Arc, who was quickly fading back into blissful ignorance, she excused herself from the Sanctum. As she did, she couldn't help but imagine Jaune begging her to come back and help him. She tugged her black mourning robes about herself and shivered.

Hey, I managed to write something. Even if this took three hours more than it usually does. Ugh.

Next Chapter: 14th November

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur