I have returned.

Family trip not quite as relaxing as desired. First night was spent in A&E because my father had burning in his eyes. Arrived there at 11pm, left at 3:30am. Then had to go back next day for more tests at 8am. Chemical burns on his eyes from something he may have gotten on his hands and rubbed in, but he is okay now. Maybe. It's been washed out and we just have to wait. All in all, when I wasn't in and out of A&E I was being asked to ferry people around Wales.

In the few cases I had a chance to sit down with a good book, I was instantly approached by family telling me not to be "anti-social" and to come spend time with them. More exhausting than it would have been to stay home and write all week. My family are strange like that; they read into everything, but never with full details. I started to fall asleep and they suggested I had some kind of illness. Uh no, I have the illness of "didn't get any sleep". It's common for people stuck in A&E all night. It's not like they didn't know either. We were all stuck in the same barn conversion chalet. They were there when I drove off to A&E with my father, though not awake when we returned.

"Thanks for worrying. Thanks for staying up. Thanks for then waking me up at SIX AM the next morning to run you down to the shops for breakfast because you were `so worried` you got hungry and woke up early. Obviously not worried enough to walk down to the shops yourself though."

Sheesh!

Family trip got easier after that was all dealt with, but wow, what a way to start it all.

Cover Art: Mystery White Flame

Chapter 23

"Are you okay? Maybe we should stop."

Panting so harshly his breath came out in rasps, and with his teeth aching so badly he wanted to spit them out, Oscar raised his head from the floor, looking up the tall and armoured figure of Cardin Winchester, who had stopped the bout to place his giant mace on the ground. His menacing appearance was offset somewhat by the look on his face.

"Miss Goodwitch," he called. "Isn't it time to call it? This doesn't feel very fair…"

"Mr Winchester I will thank you to continue the bout. Neither of you have your aura in the red."

The brutally given decision prompted winces from Oscar, Cardin and even most of the crowd. It was obvious to everyone that he didn't have a chance, and with his aura currently in the yellow Cardin would need to beat him around the ring even more. It was a farce of a fight. He couldn't land a scratch on the big guy.

"Does she hate me?" he asked, looking at Glynda's unsympathetic face.

"Glynda? Nothing of the sort. She simply refuses to let her students go out into the wider world unprepared."

"B-But she keeps picking on me and making me fight."

"You're the weakest in class. She is giving you more attention."

"If this is her idea of attention, I don't want it…"

"Ah. Now that is the wisest thing you've said in a while," Ozpin said with a chuckle. "I'm still not sure how Jaune managed to thaw her icy exterior, nor do I want to know. Come, Oscar, rise to your feet. You can at least face defeat like that."

"Or you could help me!" Oscar hissed, nonetheless pushing himself up and staggering a little.

Ozpin wouldn't, of course. This was a spar, or so the old man said, and it was a chance for him to learn to fight and gain some experience without the risk of injury or death. Sadly, the same couldn't be said for the risk of agony. He wasn't sure what he'd expected about people who became huntsmen, but he hadn't thought it would hurt quite this badly.

"Foolish of you, really. Children who come here go on to fight Grimm for the survival of mankind. Did you think those who learned here would have it easy? These are some of the hardest working, bravest and most sacrificing young men and women on Remnant."

"You whine that they're childish and dramatic all the time!"

"They are that as well, but it's not their fault. I don't expect you to understand but once you're older you surely shall. It is simply impossible to look at someone your age and not tut, roll your eyes and mutter `teenagers` in a disgusted voice. Is it fair? No. But it happens. I blame your priorities. Always worrying about looks, romance or the latest gossip, as if any of it matters…"

Hey. That wasn't fair. So what if he wanted to find romance? Was that so strange a thing to ask? People fell in love all the time.

"And there you have it," Ozpin groaned. "People your age throwing the word `love` around so wildly. It's hormones, Oscar. It's all hormones. Also, you might want to remember the first rule of being a huntsman. The one I told you last lesson?"

"Always prepare coffee?"

"Ah. The second rule, then."

Second rule? Oh, the one about never taking your eyes off your oppo-

Oscar's feet were lifted off the ground, his body with them. He sailed through the air, over the ropes, out of the arena and into the non-existent hands of Miss Goodwitch's Semblance. The teacher sighed and declared it his loss by ring out, lowering him down at a speed that wouldn't break his neck on impact.

"I hate you, Ozpin. I legitimately hate you."

"See what I mean? You lose one fight and think it's the end of the world."

"In front of everyone!"

"Life isn't a popularity contest, Oscar. There will always be a loser in every training spar. You're in good company with half the class who lost. See it as an opportunity to improve, not the loss of a chance to strut like a peacock."

Easy for him to say. Ozpin was strong. He ignored the long and heavy sigh of the man in the back of his head and made his way back into the ring, standing awkwardly next to Cardin as Miss Goodwitch stalked forward. Even if Ozpin acted relaxed around her, he couldn't find it in himself to be the same. She scared him.

"Mr Pine, your performance has shown an adequate improvement, but you allowed yourself to be distracted." The way she glared at him said she had an idea on what by. "You are also too defensive, trying to minimise damage at the expense of making any offensive moves yourself. You must remove the source of danger facing you or you'll only be buried under an avalanche of attacks. A good offence is the best defence you can have."

He looked down. "Yes miss…"

"And Mr Winchester." Miss Goodwitch sighed. "Do you remember the first advice I gave you?"

"Yes, miss. You called me arrogant and malicious, and said that I liked to play with my opponents because I considered myself better than them. You said if I didn't change, I'd run into someone I couldn't beat and would be crushed. And then you had me fight Professor Arc."

He fought the current headmaster!? Oscar looked to Cardin in awe.

The look on Cardin's face – and the giggles among the crowd – suggested it hadn't been an entirely `even` fight between the two.

"That's right, Mr Winchester. And I cannot believe I am about to say this, but maybe you dialled down the `maliciousness` a little too far. Holding back against Mr Pine won't help him grow. He needs to accurately know his weaknesses."

Cardin blinked. "Are you telling me to be more of a douchebag?"

"Not quite the words I would have used." Glynda sighed. "But yes. You're both dismissed. Will Mr Thrush and Miss Belladonna come to the ring."

Oscar left the ring alongside Cardin, who gave him a meaty thwack on the back and told him he was doing alright. The friendly pat nearly broke his spine and he stumbled down the steps, caught by Blake coming up, who rolled her eyes and steadied him. His embarrassed apology went ignored as she waked by, and he shrunk further, slinking back to his team.

"That was good!" Ruby said – sounding much like his mother when she'd called him `handsome` or `smart`, which was to say Ruby would have called his performance good even if he'd returned in a wheelchair.

"Melodramatic…"

"Shut up, Ozpin."

His scowl must have shown because Yang laughed and hooked an arm around his shoulder. He didn't try nearly as hard as he should have to escape, mostly because even while Yang drove her knuckles into the top of his head, he was pulled flush up against her side.

"Stop taking the fights so seriously. Hell, I haven't won a single spar since Beacon started again. I have the worst record in the whole class."

Yang did? He couldn't believe it. "Who do you fight?"

"W-Well, that's not important. Is it?"

He sighed. "You fight Pyrrha. Don't you?"

Up on the stage, Blake and Russel started to duke it out, both beginning with ranged attacks before engaging in a fast-paced melee with short-range daggers and cleavers. It was beautiful in a sense, vicious in another. It looked like two villains from slasher movies going to town on one another. He was let go by Yang and stood between her and Ruby, the latter cheering for Blake and waving a `Team RWBY` flag she'd procured from somewhere.

Oscar sighed. Intellectually, he knew he was getting better. He could run laps with Blake for longer and last until the end of a spar. That might have sounded pathetic, but his first fights against Cardin hadn't ended with his aura in the red, but rather his face in the floor, legs unable to move as absolute exhaustion set in. According to Ruby, it wasn't uncommon for people starting out. A high-speed fight may have looked easy from the outside, but actually being in it required way more stamina than he had. So he was getting better for sure, just not good or fast enough to be even remotely on the level of his new teammates.

"It would be an insult to them if you could," Ozpin said. "They have been training for years, even a decade in some cases. If you could come in and reach their level within a few months, or even within a few years, then it would be a source of shame for them."

"Are you saying I'll never be as strong as them?"

"You will be as strong as they are not, but they will also improve. In time you may match them, for everyone plateaus eventually, be it because of age, a limit reached or just their focus moving onto other things. It will take time, however. Beacon was not built in a day."

"Do we have time…?"

"Perhaps. As I've said before, I will step in if your life is truly in danger, as I did in Haven."

Oscar sighed.

/-/

"Glynda." Jaune smiled and sat down next to his maybe-maybe-not-quite girlfriend in the staffroom. As always, she confused him by moving over for him to do so, smiling and then going back to her own meal. "So…" he said, looking for a topic of conversation.

Don't ask about work. Don't ask about work.

"How are lessons?"

DAMN IT!

"Well enough," she replied, swallowing her sandwich before speaking. "I'm pleased to say lessons are falling back into some semblance of normality. Even Bart has been able to relocate all his lessons back inside again, much to the sorrow of some students I'm sure."

"Ha. I can imagine. Lessons outside must have been fun. It'll be getting cold soon, though."

"Yes. They'll be thankful for their classrooms when winter fully hits."

He laughed, though the sound trailed off. Luckily, he could take a bite of his own food to mask his thoughts. It was a rare moment with just the two of them together and no Peter or Roman to make things worse. All he had to do was talk to her. All he had to do was open his mouth and say something.

"I-"

"I-"

They both stopped, having spoken at the same time.

"You first," Glynda said.

"No, it's fine. I interrupted. What were you saying?"

"If you're sure?" Seeing his nod, sent continued. "I noticed something `off` with Mr Pine today."

"With Oscar?" he asked, disappointed the question was again about work. "What about him?"

"He seemed unusually distracted. And frustrated."

"He has Ozpin in his head. That'd frustrate anyone."

"Something beyond that," she said meaningfully. "I think he needs someone to speak to, someone he can trust and open up with. His team cannot count since he can't tell them anything about Ozpin or his meetings with us. Mr Pine doesn't have anyone to look up to, or anyone he can come to for advice."

Jaune processed that. "Are you saying he needs a father figure?"

Glynda winced.

"And you're implying I should be that figure?"

"In a sense…"

"But why? He has Ozpin."

"Ozpin is an incredible man," Glynda allowed, "But he is also Ozpin. His life is so far removed from that of a normal human's that I doubt he remember what it is like to truly be human. Certainly, he doesn't remember what it was like to be young or to have problems related to your teenage years."

Jaune imagined Ozpin looking offended at that but pushed the image aside. She wasn't wrong. "Jinn, then?"

"Jinn can only tell someone what they already know. If Ozpin does not know, there is nothing Jinn can say to Oscar. And could you not have picked the one other person in the world who also has no idea what being a human child would be like?"

"Ah. Touché." There went his idea of saying Peter, too. "You think I can help him?"

"I think it couldn't hurt to try. The poor boy has been dragged from his home to be here, thrust onto a team and told that an eternal parasite will eventually eat his brain and identity. I think he has an excuse to be feeling a little down."

"Ugh. When you put it like that. Fine, I'll talk to him."

"Thank you." Glynda smiled and nudged his leg with her knee.

His breath caught. It was as good a chance to step in as any. Or it would have been, had not the door to the staffroom opened at that very moment. Peter and Roman strode in, the former talking loudly about something being better in his day and the latter chain smoking in a desperate attempt to block it all out. On seeing them, Roman looked like a man cast out to sea who had finally spotted land. He all but fled in their direction.

"I'll ask you later," Jaune whispered to Glynda. He would get this out the way, if only because he was sick of interruptions. "Roman, Peter. Productive day?"

"Of course!" Peter bellowed. "Why, I -"

"I spoke to Cinder earlier," Roman interrupted. If he didn't, they all knew Peter would speak for the entire lunch break. "Brought her some food, had a chat and left."

"Anything to report?"

"She refused to speak back, rolled over and ignored me. She's been eating, though. Empty plates on the side. It's an improvement on the last few days, since all she did was list the ways in which she would see me beg for forgiveness before my untimely demise."

Yikes. Some improvement.

"I think she's bored," he said, shrugging. "I left her a book."

"That's unexpectedly generous of you." Jaune's words trailed off as he saw Roman smirk. "What book did you give her?"

"I think it was called `The Little Book of Calm`."

Jaune groaned. Cinder would be frothing at the mouth for that. Or spouting philosophical sayings and acting like she was stoned out of her mind. He wasn't sure which would be worse. If she wasn't talking, there wasn't much point him seeing her though. Best to wait until Winter arrived and let her wear on Cinder's nerves a little.

He had Sienna to worry about. She'd accepted his contract but remained in her rooms for now. He had detention tonight with Blake – though calling it such was pointless nowadays. It would be the first time the two were working in a room together. He expected fireworks. Loud, angry and Blake-shaped fireworks.

"Some other news as well," Roman said. "I was talking to Ba- to Oobleck earlier and he told me there's been a few more reported cases of those Obelisk-Grimm."

"The Oobelisks?" Peter asked cheekily.

"I told you we're not naming them after him," Jaune sighed. "Do we need to mobilise some teams?"

"Nah. They were found by huntsmen and promptly destroyed. Same as what was reported in Patch, however. Increased Grimm numbers and aggression. Looks like these things have been scattered all over Vale. More than that, they say it was embedded in a ruined building, like it smashed through the roof and wall."

"Smashed through…?"

"As though it fell from a height," Glynda deduced.

Roman made a popping sound with his finger in his mouth and pointed at her. "Bingo."

"Fell?" Jaune asked, imagining it. "Wait, you mean that these things are being delivered across Vale by Nevermore? They're not forming naturally but are being airlifted into the Kingdom and dropped all over the place."

"Three guesses on who by. Your options are Salem, Salem or Salem." Roman pushed on without pause. "But that explains how they got by without being noticed. Vale's supply of Bullheads was pretty much totalled when all of Atlas' airships up and went insane."

Glynda, Peter and Jaune all glared at Roman.

"But that `freak accident` aside, it's left Vale with little in the way of air patrols. Not hard to imagine Nevermore slipping through, dropping the Oobelisks-"

"Still not calling them that."

"-and leaving," he went on. "And what's more, we might have one of the culprits right here!"

Jaune stared at him. "What?"

"Your pet Nevermore."

"You mean Neo's pet Nevermore." In the same way that he was Neo's pet human. "But I see what you mean. We should have connected the dots before. Huge Nevermore would have been spotted, but smaller ones could sneak by. I guess that means the Oob- the Obelisks-" He paused to scowl at a grinning Peter Port, "It means those things start of small and grow to maturity. It's the only way the smaller Nevermore could carry them."

"We can't hunt down and kill every Nevermore in Vale," Glynda said. "It's an impossible task."

"Is outside the walls," Peter said. "We can stop any flying over Vale, but villages outside have no defence. I suppose that all we can do is react to where the Grimm are reported in higher numbers. At least we will know what to look for."

"It's also good for our economy," Roman said. "More Grimm means more missions and our little mercenary teams can go out and bring us that nice, fat cash." He paused, noticing how they were all glaring at him. "What? What!?"

"While Roman isn't wrong per se…" Just ethically bankrupt. "I think it would be good if we could get answers from Cinder as to what is going on. Maybe even take Ozpin out on the next mission and see if he can notice anything unusual with the Oob- the golems."

"Not a bad idea," Glynda said, standing. "If I may, I'll call Mr Pine to my office, speak with Ozpin and see what he thinks. That will also be a good chance for me to send him to your office for what we spoke of before…?" She trailed off, leaving the hint in the air.

"I'll have Sienna and Blake in my office…"

"Yes." A coy smile appeared for a moment. "I thought you might appreciate an excuse to leave them to their work and talk to a young man in need. Miss Khan and Belladonna are adults, after all. They should be able to sort out their differences themselves."

Mentally, he ranked the chances of that working out as somewhere around zero per cent, but if she was offering him a way to escape having to listen to the inevitable arguments, he would grasp it with both hands.

"Tell him I'll speak to him."

/-/

"No! No, no, no, no, no!"

"Actually," Jaune said, linking his hands together. "Her name is Sienna."

"No. No, no!" Blake came forward, reaching over the desk to grip his collar and then pointing at Sienna, sat behind a new desk marked with a little sign saying `Sienna; Personal Assistant` with an almost cattish smirk on her face. "No!" Blake said again, altering her tone and pitch as though she really thought she was using more words. "No. No, no. No, no, no. Nooo. No-no. No, no, no, no, no."

"Blake…"

"No. No, no, no."

"Blake, use more words."

"White Fang!"

"Okay, better, but-"

"White Fang! White Fang, White Fang, no, no, White Fang. No!"

"I think I broke her," Sienna said, leaning her elbow on the desk and her cheek upon one hand. "I shall consider this divine justice for all the times I've had to say `no` when being questioned by people asking about her."

"No!" Blake snapped, pointing at Sienna. "No!"

"Adam constantly asks for you as a prisoner." Sienna chuckled. "I wonder what dreams he has of you in shackles. Would they be metal, I wonder? Or leather."

Blake shivered. "N – No!"

"Ilia, too. Did you even know she had the hots for you?"

"N-…" Blake's ears twitched, and she looked confused. "No."

Huh. That `no` might have been the only one that actually fit this whole time.

"Oh yes," Sienna said. "Always watching from a distance, always sighing, playing with her hands or plucking the petals off flowers chanting `loves me, loves me not`. I'd have called it endearing but for the one time you let her do your laundry." Sienna paused. "You should not have done that."

Blake looked mortified. "No…"

"Okay, enough. You," Jaune said, pointing at Sienna. "Stop tormenting her. You," he added, this time to Blake. "I know you can speak, unlike Neo, so use more than three words and stop acting like the world is crashing down around your shoulders."

"Why is she here!?" Blake asked, glaring at him.

"Better." He tapped her nose. "And she's here because I needed to give her a job to keep her in Beacon. And before you ask, no, jail is not an appropriate place for her. The White Fang would break her out instantly, then kill her. And that's if the humans or faunus already in jail didn't get to her first."

"He needs me alive to counter your boyfriend's little propaganda war," Sienna teased.

"Adam is not my boyfriend! He's… me ex."

"Boyfriend?"

"That's different!"

"You still slept with him. Questionable taste, my dear. Very questionable."

"Yes, well, I realise that now. Don't I?" Blake glared at the floor. "He was… He was different back then.

"Bullshit," Sienna barked. "He was always a whiny little shit."

"I meant less of a psychopath!"

"Oh, right. That." Sienna waved a hand. "I suppose so. You get used to psychopaths in my job. Really, it was hard to find people who weren't. Or my old job. I guess things are different here."

Not nearly as much as he would have liked.

"Whatever the case," Jaune said, "The two of you will now be working together. I don't expect you to like it, or to like one another, but if I can be honest I'm planning to use paperwork as a mutual enemy and throw enough at you until you work together or drown."

"You fiend," Sienna said without much heat. She followed it up with a heavy sigh.

Blake just sulked. Or, well, she might have thought she was trying to stare him down and make him give up, but to him it just looked like she was sulking. He'd had months to get used to her little glowers. "If anything, the two of you should be able to bond and find some common ground."

"Because we're both feline faunus? That's a little racist…"

"No. I was thinking because you've both been let down by Adam and the White Fang."

"Oh, right." Blake blushed. "B-But she's still the leader of the White Fang! She's a terrorist!"

"So are you," Sienna pointed out.

"What!? I'm not. I left!"

"As have I."

"You're not – That's not the same. I chose to leave. You were stabbed in the back."

"In my eyes, that makes me more trustworthy," Sienna said. "You could be a spy for all we know. I'm obviously never going back." The dark-skinned woman watched Blake implode with a smug little grin. "You know, it's ironic that you're allowed all these free chances and the freedom to leave the White Fang and not be judged by it, yet I'm not."

"You led them while innocent people died!"

"And you worked for us while innocent people died. You might not have pulled the trigger, but you recruited the people who did, carried the ammunition that killed and maybe even helped secure the murder weapons." With every condemnation, Blake shrunk further back. "No one is innocent who ever worked for the White Fang, girl. That includes me and you both. We're just different shades of guilty. And different shades of out of options."

That was getting a little too heavy and Blake looked like she was about to suffer a mental breakdown. He stepped over and placed a hand on her shoulder, both for support and to keep her still. He led her around his desk and pushed her down into his seat, still warm from where he'd been sitting.

"Don't think about it," he advised. "You've proven your place in Beacon, Blake. It's time for Sienna to have that same chance. Leave the paranoia to us for once. I'm not ignoring the danger of the White Fang anymore. No one is. We're going to do everything we can to stop Adam, but that means keeping Sienna close. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I… Yes." Her amber eyes closed. "I know it's a necessary evil."

Sienna rolled her eyes and mouthed the words `necessary evil` with a sarcastic expression. Thankfully, Blake didn't see it.

"Good. I trust you, Blake. I don't trust Sienna yet. That's why you're going to oversee what paperwork she does, and you can check it over to make sure it's all done correctly. Delegate well and you might even have less to do yourself."

"Okay." She sat a little taller, either pleased to see he wasn't going easy on Sienna or just relieved that she was in control. He wasn't going to be so cruel or stupid as to put Blake working under Sienna.

"Thank you, Blake. I appreciate this. You're a real help." He was all but massaging her shoulders now, utilising the `older sister` approach to getting someone to do what you wanted. "I don't know where I'd be without your support and help."

"Hm. Yeah…" If she'd had a manipulative little brother she might have seen what he was doing. As it was, she leaned back and smiled, letting the praise wash over her. "I do my best."

"You sure do, Blake. You sure do."

Sienna rolled her eyes again.

Whatever the case, it seemed to work on Blake, who nodded and sat up, resigning that if she couldn't change his mind, she would at least prove she was above it all. Reaching forward she picked the first letter up off the pile and opened it, reading the contents.

The letter fell to the table.

"No, no, no, no. No, no, no, no, no!"

"Oh, come on!" Jaune groaned. He snatched the letter up. "What now-?" He read it. "Kali Belladonna." He put it down and stared at Blake, then at Sienna, who had begun to laugh once more. "Your mom is coming to Beacon? Arriving tomorrow?"

"No, no, no!" Blake cried, rocking back and forth in his chair.

Oscar chose that very moment to enter, to see a confirmed terrorist collapsed over her desk laughing, a younger and reformed one having a mental breakdown, and the headmaster of Beacon, stood behind her with a letter in one hand and his forehead in the other.

"Did I come at a bad time?"

/-/

"Winter." Ironwood looked up. "Is there a problem?"

"No problem, sir." Winter saluted quickly and lowered her hand when he nodded for her to be at ease. "I wished to enquire as to the possibility of taking a team of students with me to Beacon. I believe it may ease negotiations and prove good for optics."

"Hm." Ironwood leaned forward, hands linked before him. He did not immediately dismiss the idea, which was a good sign. "Would you care to explain, Specialist?"

"Sir. I believe that my presence in Beacon will be noted by media and political forces in Vale." It was a given and Ironwood nodded to show he understood. "If I attend solely in person, with armed guards beside me, the people may react poorly and see it as an extension of a military move. Due to Jaune Arc's current popularity among the masses, I feel this might reflect poorly on Atlas."

She said `current popularity` not only because it might change – public opinion was fickle – but also because General Ironwood might become angry if she implied Jaune Arc deserved any of his popularity. Despite his recent actions he was still a criminal.

"I see the wisdom in your words, Winter. Your position as aide to myself is well known. Very well. I presume that your suggestion to bring a team along is to mitigate this by implying the visit is related to Atlas Academy, not Atlas military."

"You presume correctly, sr."

He chuckled. "It is no great feat. Your suggestion holds merit and while I doubt we will be able to entirely prevent people seeing it as a military move, that does not make the effort worthless. I will approve this proposal of yours, so long as the trip does not interfere with the team's lessons."

"It won't, sir."

"You have a team in mind?"

"I have some ideas," she deflected, trying not to show her panic. Qrow's suggestion seemed a terrible idea all of a sudden and there was no getting past the fact she was misleading her superior. No, I'm not misleading him. He hasn't said not to take Weiss, so I'm not going against orders.

It was her idea, weak as it was, to both help Weiss and not disobey orders. By framing her proposal in so vague a manner, and letting him fill in his own gaps, that she could claim later she had `misunderstood` what he meant.

It wasn't going to fool anyone, but Winter was military; they were supposed to follow orders to the letter. In the absence of orders telling her not to take Weiss with her, doing so was perfectly within her authority.

"I will trust your intuition," Ironwood said.

Her stomach churned. She tried to tell herself it wouldn't be betraying his trust so long as Weiss came back. It was only betraying his trust if this went badly and Weiss escaped to stay at Beacon.

Winter bowed. "Thank you, sir. I will leave this afternoon. Do you need me for anything else?"

"No. You are dismissed."

Winter saluted again and backed out the room, letting the door close before she turned and marched away, past the guards who saluted her in turn and down the corridor, through a security checkpoint and then into the school proper. Students nodded their heads respectfully while others saluted, the lines between students and military in Atlas blurred.

That had never been an issue for her before, but the sea of similar uniforms, all grey and white, made her think of Weiss and how her sister's hair and clothing would be lost in it, drowned in an ocean of homogenous colours and bland tones. For someone who so clearly desired to stand out, it would have been a cruel fate. Weiss and she were different in that regard. Winter had never cared for attention, good or bad. Perhaps my problem was in making the assumption she would be like me. Weiss is her own person, and never has that been more apparent since Beacon.

She made her way to Weiss' assigned dorm, unsurprised to find that the door was locked. From the sounds within, her sister was present. Winter rapped a fist on the door.

"Who is it?"

Weiss would have never acted like that before Beacon. What was the point of asking who was at the door? The polite thing to do was answer. Shaking her head, she replied, "It is Winter. I must speak with you."

It took a minute or two for Weiss to open the door. Her face peeked through the crack, flat and angry. Winter tried not to note the red around her eyes. Tried and failed. An unfamiliar tightness in her chest had her looking up over Weiss' head.

"What is it?" her sister asked. "I'm busy."

"You have two hours to pack your bags."

Weiss' eyes grew wider. "What?"

"Two hours," she repeated. "Bags. If you are not present and presentable at the docks, I will be forced to leave without you. My deadline is tight and we must leave on the hour." If only so General Ironwood would not have time to note her company. "I came to provide you forewarning."

"Wait!" Weiss hauled the door open and stood in the frame, eyes wide, body shaking. She struggled to catch her breath, then struggled to find the words that were apparently on the tip of her tongue. "Are you – Do you mean…?" She swallowed. "Beacon? Is that what you mean?"

"Is there some other journey I am expected on?" It was a rhetorical question but seeing the desperation on Weiss' face, the need, she relented. "Yes, sister. I am referring of my mission to Beacon. I have acquired… permission for your attendance."

In a sense. Better to ask forgiveness, or so the old saying went.

Winter still wasn't sure. The disloyalty ate at her.

And then Weiss was smiling. Truly smiling. And there were tears as well, though they were quickly buried in Winter's chest as her sister lurched forward, crashing into her in such an Un-Schnee-like manner that their father would have had a conniption. Even a week back, Winter herself would have chastised such a display.

"Thank you!" Weiss wheezed, fingers clutching at Winter's coat. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Two hours," Winter said, her own throat a little too tight. "I must go, Weiss. Please do not be late or I shall have no choice but to leave without you."

"I won't be!" Weiss pushed back, eyes shining and smile so bright it lit the corridor. She stepped into her room, practically shaking with excitement. "I'll see you there, Winter. I promise. You won't be disappointed. A-And thank you again. Thank you. I… I knew I could trust you."

The door closed before Winter could call the lie. Weiss hadn't known, and she'd been right not to for without the interference of that annoying man, she would have made no attempt to circumvent Ironwood's designs. As she heard Weiss laugh delightedly from within the room, however, she could not find it in herself to be too upset. Turning away herself, Winter walked away with a tiny smile of her own.

It felt like a weight had been lifted from her.

Yikes. Those new outfits for RWBY, huh? Not sure I like. Weiss' aspirations for Fate/Stay Night fashion aside (and Ruby's hair), I find myself mostly wondering `why` their outfits are changing from a narrative point of view. At least with season 4 changes it made sense because it's implied they travelled for months and their old outfits would have fallen to tatters.

Guess we'll see how it's handled but I at least hope they change after some event that warrants it, like the battle for Atlas or something. Going to be very weird if they just start season seven in those new outfits.

No omake this week I'm afraid. Back from my week away and I have a lot of PM's, emails and such to dig through. Got to catch up. Not to mention actual work-work. Of the nine to five variety.

Next Chapter: 29th August

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur