Here we are with book four of Forged Destiny. Just to let people know, this week will be a little hectic for me as I have to do a speech in front of a few thousand people on Thursday for work. As such, White Sheep might come out a little late. Still on the Thursday, but potentially several hours later than usual.

Other than that, I hope you enjoy the fourth book here.


Beta: College Fool

Cover Art: Dishwasher1910

Book 4: Chapter 1


The hammer struck. Sparks flew. The tangy scent of hot coals and molten metal reached my nose, even as embers sprayed off the steel and over my arms. They didn't burn. My Passive saw to that. As the hammer rose and fell once more, I fell into a steady rhythm, one felt deep inside me. A tempo that had been repeated time and time again.

It allowed my mind to wander.

Three months had passed since Torchwick's flight and our subsequent freedom from his contract. There was still a part of me that couldn't believe it, but each morning, waking up in our newly refurbished Guild Hall, with everyone shouting and laughing from the main room, reminded me of the truth. Three months felt like such a long time, but it had passed quickly, the stress and drama of debt and obligation replaced with the panic of lessons and homework, of catching up on what we'd missed and otherwise falling back into a routine we'd almost forgotten.

It was relaxing. Almost as relaxing as it was for me to shed my disguise and become a Blacksmith once more. The amulet which granted me the title of Knight lay discarded atop a wooden barrel, and I was back in the forge I'd rented once before in Vale. The man recognised me, and knowing I hadn't caused any damage last time, was happy to let me rent it again.

I'd pushed for a forge and smithy to be built in the Lodge. We had the room. I'd quickly come across a rather obvious counter argument, however.

Why?

It wasn't like any of us could use it.

I laughed at the memory of it, both the honest confusion on Weiss' face, and my own panic as I backtracked and made excuses about how we could maybe `try` to repair stuff with it. Weiss had rolled her eyes, explained why that was silly, and then calmly explained they were going to have a homework study room with bookshelves and tables instead.

And there went my dreams of a convenient forge in the Lodge. One didn't argue with Weiss at the best of times, but we'd all come to realise one definitely didn't argue with her when it came to interior decoration. To her credit, she was good at it. The Lodge looked amazing. We just wished she wouldn't have been so demanding with us when it came to precisely how she wanted us to arrange the couches in the lounge. Apparently it was very important they face in a certain direction, or the `feel` of the room would be all wrong.

The hammer fell again.

Our situation in Beacon was a little strange as well. When it came to raw experience, skill and Levels, we were ahead of the curve for our year. With our Annual Quest behind us, and several others too, we were over-levelled. Most of the other teams in our year had started to do their own now, and with the end of the academic year approaching, there was a huge rush for good Quests. We were lucky to get ours out of the way early.

On the other hand, we were behind when it came to academics. We'd missed so many lessons because of our desperate questing, that we'd skipped huge swathes of our education. Beacon didn't have written tests, and that wouldn't stop us moving on, but the lessons were necessary. There were just some things you needed to know. Because of that, we'd been offered remedial lessons with some of the teachers, more work for them than for us, but it probably came as part of their apology for not noticing Torchwick earlier. Being dragged into lessons didn't feel like a reward, but I was mature enough to know we needed it.

At least we didn't have to nearly die at the end of them. It made for a nice change. Ren and Nora were actually out on a Quest right now, even if we didn't necessarily need the finances. It was an easy one from what I'd seen, painfully easy. I had a feeling Nora had `other plans` for what the two of them would get up to.

Poor Ren. I wasn't sure if I pitied him or not. Oh, they weren't together. At least not together-together, whatever that meant, but I was fairly sure Nora wouldn't be averse to it progressing to that level. Ren…? I wasn't sure what he felt. Who was? The guy was about as readable as a rock, and half as expressive.

The hammer fell, but this time it didn't raise back up again. I leaned back and drew out the cherry-red steel, before I carried it to a barrel of oil and dunked it in. The oil bubbled and hissed, spitting steam out into the air, which fluttered up and out a chimney hole atop the building the forge was in. Drawing it back out, I inspected the metal, testing to make sure it was still straight. It was.

The steel was Vacuan Silver, the same kind Blake had purchased for her daggers, and now, with the stolen money returned to us, I'd been able to afford several bars, too. It had taken weeks to find enough, mostly because of how the raw material was sold to Blacksmiths straight away, and wasn't usually on offer in the markets. I'd had to wait for a Quest back out to Toston with Ruby and Yang. I'd been lucky enough to see more on display, and snapped it up before it could be sold on.

It was all to replace Crocea Mors, of course. My first sword, the one I'd forged myself, had shattered on Watts' blade. I'd gathered all the shards I could, but there wasn't much point in repairing an already weakened blade. It wasn't as simple as sticking it back together again; you had to melt all the material down and re-forge it. If I was doing that anyway, I figured I might as well make a better sword.

The one I'd been using in the interim stood propped up by the back wall, a simple steel long sword bought off the Beacon market. It wasn't anything to talk about, but was cheap, functional, and served its purpose for the three months it had taken me to reach this point. I'd probably keep it around, if only to serve as a backup if anything went wrong.

When I took a grindstone and started to sharpen the blade, removing the scale and rough metal from it, the sword began to reveal itself.

Crocea Mors.

"Again," I whispered, amused. The blade differed, far brighter and with a sheen that almost perfectly reflected my face, but the rest of it was practically identical. The hilt was a mirror-match, despite my having thrown the old one away. The shape, the slope, even the distribution of weight – it was all perfectly matched to my first sword.

And why not? I'd made it myself and gotten used to how it felt. Most people had to learn to adapt to a new weapon, and no matter how hard they tried to find something similar to the old, there would always be some difference. Not for me, however. I could make them myself. I could craft them using the abilities I'd been born with. This sword wasn't just similar to my old one. It was my old one. Albeit with a new, stronger, blade.

"Welcome back," I said, hefting it up before me. The leather hilt felt comfortable in my hand and the weight was perfect. I realised at that moment just how much I'd missed it. "You won't break this time. Vacuan Silver, freshly smelted. How does it feel? Do you think I should give you a new name?"

Crocea Mors didn't answer, of course. Would that I could unlock a Skill to talk to weapons, but that would probably do more harm than good. I let the tip of the sword rest against the floor, gripping the body of it with my knees. Already, I could feel the Experience from forging the blade rush through me – far greater than what I'd had before. My theory was correct, it seemed. The quality of the materials determined how much I gained from work at the forge. This was enough to push me the final bit, tipping the scales and bringing me to Level Twenty-five. I hadn't gained any levels in the three months since the Guild War, but to be fair, we hadn't been in any big fights. For all the violence and madness, we hadn't killed anyone in the Guild War, so no Exp.

I'd consider my new level later, though. Right now, I still had Crocea Mors, and despite that she shone with new lustre, I wasn't yet done. There was one final touch.

A leather pad came from the bag beside me, well-worn and with several parchments clutched haphazardly within. I opened it up and leafed through them. Each page was a collection of different shapes and squiggles, along with my handwriting written beneath.

They were Runes.

I'd been busy in the last month or so, even if I'd not had a sword to work on. The fight with Watts had given me an epiphany of sorts. Runes were real, and they did have effects. His sword had been incredibly powerful before I got a hold of it, and that was something I wanted. Of course, I hadn't sat down and started scratching random shapes onto a sword. That would have been foolish… not to mention dangerous and expensive.

I'd scratched them onto cutlery instead.

The less said about the results, the better. Some melted, others exploded, and some ground down into dust. I doubted that was the intent of the Runes, especially since if so, the ancient languages had a lot of ways of saying `exploding spoon`. It was more likely that was the result if I tried to work with it and got the wrong rune. Maybe those ones had been names, abstract words or just concepts. It probably didn't bode well if I scratched `love`, `defeat`or `one onion, two bags of salt and a chunk of venison` onto a weapon.

There had been some success, however. I kept those runes in the book I was looking at now. There honestly weren't as many as I'd like, only four in total, but since I could only put one rune on the weapon, it was enough. I'd thought long and hard about which I would use, and as I leaned over with a tiny chisel and started to chip away, the symbol began to take shape.

Fire, lightning or some kind of elemental weapon would have been cool. Sadly, I didn't have the runes for that. Or was that luckily? I wasn't sure what would have happened if I'd imbued a butter knife I was holding in one hand with the power of a thunderbolt. The runes I did have were subtler, smaller, yet would prove no less effective.

As I leaned back and inspected the rune I'd carved into Crocea Mors, I nodded happily. Turning the blade over, I saw it etched into the other side as well.

It did that. I had no idea how. Magic, I guess.

This rune was fairly simple in what it did. It was a Stat boost – and quite a small one, to be honest, only four additional points. If I added that to my Strength or Resilience, I'd barely feel it. I didn't, though.

This was a Rune of Dexterity, and Dexterity was my weakest Stat. It was fifteen at the moment, and that was before the boost I got. I couldn't see or feel it – it didn't show up on my Stats, but my tests had proved it to work, and I did feel a little more graceful than usual when I gave my sword a few test swings. Four points wasn't much, but when your Dexterity was jumping from fifteen to nineteen, it was a big deal. That was almost a third of my Dex added on top. Not shabby for a squiggly shape drawn on a sword blade.

Not shabby at all.

A meaty hand struck on the wooden door behind me. "Hey, you finished in there? You're at time. Any longer and you'll need to pay me more."

"I'm done," I called back, hiding the sword under my brown cloak. The amulet went into a pocket too, and I'd slip it back on once I was somewhere hidden. With a wide smile, I opened the door and nodded to the burly Blacksmith on the other side. "Thanks for letting me borrow your forge."

"No problem, I guess." He looked around, and grunted happily when he saw there was no damage. "You know your way around, I see. If you ever need work, come and see me."

Me, working in a smith? It shouldn't have sounded strange, but it did. For the sake of not being impolite, I smiled and tried not to laugh.

"I'll keep it in mind," I said. "Thanks for everything."

/-/

When I entered Beacon once more, it was as a Knight. There were two soldiers at the gates, and they watched me warily, only relaxing once I showed them my Beacon ID. Ever since Torchwick and Watts, the teachers had stepped up security around the academy. While I wasn't convinced two men could stop Watts, especially if they were Soldier Caste and thus failed Heroes, they'd still be able to raise the alarm, and there were many more walking along Beacon's tall walls.

It was an improvement on what there had been before, now that Watts had made it clear that his group had some interest in Beacon. There was no telling what, and the Greycloaks remained a mysterious group, but Beacon wasn't taking any chances. That was fine by me.

I didn't head towards the Lodge, but instead looped around the back of Beacon, to where the border to the Emerald Forest lay. I spotted processions of students coming and going, farming for their daily lien or just doing what training they could. Off to the side, sunning herself on a rock with a book in hand, I also saw Blake.

She saw me too, of course. Her book lowered as I approached and she rolled her eyes, shifting her body so that she was sat up. Her arms stretched above her and she yawned.

"Hello Jau-mf!"

I silenced her with a kiss, and pulled back a second later. "Hello," I said, grinning at her angry frown and angrier blush. "Reading?"

"I was," Blake sniped, glancing away. "And then, all of a sudden, I was being assaulted by a rude Knight."

I kissed her again, just because I could, and smiled as she kissed back.

"Tell me if you see him again," I said. "I'll sort him out."

Blake snorted. "Idiot."

She shuffled a tiny bit to the side, giving me room to sit on the rock with her. It was warm from her body heat and the sunlight, and I instantly felt sleepy. Her body against mine didn't help, for she was incredibly soft and comfortable, despite the hard muscle I knew lay underneath. Knew from having her kick my ass, that was. Kissing and cuddling was far as we'd gone. Blake was, to my surprise, too shy to try anything else. Not that I wasn't either, but it was amazing how much she would clam up from even the smallest of kisses. It was ridiculously endearing.

"What have you been doing today?" she asked. "I saw you head into Vale earlier."

"I was picking up some post from home."

"Is that what that is?" Blake looked to the small package I'd kept half-hidden behind me. I shouldn't have been surprised she'd noticed, nor that she was so obviously interested. She tried to hide it, but it shone through.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know," I teased.

"This cat could kill you."

I laughed and brought the package around, then laughed again when she took it out of my hands long before I told her she could. Her eyes watched mine warily as she opened it, and I had a sneaking suspicion that if it was something cute or romantic, she'd storm off with a bright red face.

For all her love of romantic novels, she didn't do so well when exposed to it in real life. Luckily for me, and for her, it wasn't some useless knickknack.

Blake gasped. "They're beautiful…"

"Aren't they?"

Her eyes lit up as she drew the gift out into the sunlight. The light reflected off the silvery daggers. Not jewellery or some other gift, but I didn't think the smile on her face would have been nearly as big for anything else. She glanced down at me and bit her lip. "Can I…?"

"They're yours. Go wild."

Blake hopped up and out of my arms. She slashed once forward, then parried an invisible opponent with the second and twirled around to place a dagger in his gut. The Assassin was as graceful as ever, a flickering figure almost too fast to see. A minute or two later, she stopped. Her breath came a little harsher and her hair hung loose, but the expression on her face was nothing short of euphoric.

"Perfect," she whispered, twirling the daggers in her hand. "I've never held something that fits me so well. Your father must be an incredible Blacksmith. Give him my thanks."

"He knows," I said, hiding my smile. The one who had forged her new weapons knew, in any case. I'd wanted to make them straight away, but that would have been suspicious. I had to wait long enough for it to make sense for me to ship her ingots back home, and then receive them again. That it came around the time I forged my own was less coincidence and more convenience. That and me wanting to make the best daggers I could.

"Hm. There's something here, just above the hilt?"

"It's a marking," I said. "My Dad does that. He says it's a branding sort of thing, so people know he's the one who made them."

They weren't, of course, but it was an excuse that made sense. The tiny symbols were runes I'd added, one to each of her daggers. I'd agonised over which to give her, but in the end settled for the one thing I wanted to give her most, Constitution. I wouldn't always be around to protect her, and even if I was, it was usually the other way around. She was the stronger fighter, but my biggest fear was that one day it wouldn't be enough.

Maybe like this, with eight additional Constitution, I'd be able to protect her.

"I can't wait to use them. Do you want to go farming today?"

"Not today," I said, pushing myself off the rock. "Ren and Nora are coming back, remember? I want to be there to meet them and hear how the Quest went."

"Ah…" Blake nodded and sheathed her new weapons away under her armour. "I suppose you're right. I can hold off until tomorrow."

A month or two ago, she'd have gone hunting without me, and she still did every now and then, but it was more common for Blake to be part of a team now. Usually it would be me, or a team involving me, but I'd also seen her go out with Weiss and Yang on occasion. Whether she realised it or not – and I was fairly sure she didn't – Blake had slowly accepted that she was a part of the Guild. It was good to see her fitting in, making friends.

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you smiling at?"

"You," I answered honestly.

"Tch," she looked away.

I stepped forward and took her hands in mind. I didn't move any closer, but instead waited. With a tiny frown, and an even tinier grumble, Blake turned towards me and pushed up on her tiptoes. Her lips were soft against mine, but so very hot. Or maybe that was just me. It was hard to tell.

It ended sooner than I'd have liked, but that was Blake for you. Her face was red and she glared at me, as if the public display was somehow my doing.

I decided to change the subject, if only to spare my health. "What have you been up to today? Reading?"

"Only for the last hour or so." Blake stepped past me, one of her hands still in mine, and we walked together across the forest's edge, making our way to the Guild Village and our Hall. "Yang and I had to attend a remedial history lesson around midday. Oobleck wanted me to pass a message onto you. He expects you to meet him tomorrow before lunch for your own."

"I'll be there. Want to give me any hints on what it's about?"

"The Grand Treaty," Blake said, shrugging.

I raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that common knowledge?"

"It is, but I doubt it's any less important. It wouldn't do for someone to break it and start a war because Beacon felt it was too obvious a subject to bother teaching."

"I guess so…" The Treaty was well-known enough that it was strange to think of it as history. It governed a large portion of Remnant, and basically made sure any conflict had to be fought in a clearly defined and suitable matter. One of its major tenets was how Heroes could be used in conflict, in so far that they couldn't. No Kingdom could enlist or use the Hero Caste for warfare. Their job was Grimm. Not fighting and dying for land and resources.

"Quit complaining. It's part of what we have to learn." Blake tossed her hair behind her, and I breathed in her scent as it wafted past my nose. "Not everything has to be fighting and risking our lives."

"Whatever you say," I said, smiling goofily.

Blake noticed. She growled something under her breath and looked away. Her embarrassment faded a second later, replaced with something altogether worse – a blank mask that hinted at nothing. I followed her gaze and noticed two people looking in our direction. I didn't recognise them, but they apparently knew us.

"Assassin and a Knight?" one whispered. "What do you think she has on him?"

"Blackmail, probably. Maybe threats…

"Someone should do something about it."

"Shh, she might hear you."

My anger boiled. It ripped through me like a sword, and left just as much a wound. It was me they'd best be worried about overhearing, and I'd done just that. I paused and turned, prepared to go back and tell them exactly what I thought of their ideas. I couldn't, however. Blake's hand tightened into a vice-like grip, and she dragged me after her.

"Ignore them," she said.

"How am I supposed to do that?" I hissed back. "Did you hear what they said?"

Blake rolled her eyes. "Do you imagine my hearing is worse than yours when I have four ears? I heard them well enough. I heard them before you did. It's fine. Ignore them."

"It's not fine! Those two are suggesting you're forcing me to be your boyfriend!"

"It's not just those two," she whispered. Blake's eyes flicked to mine, and she sighed when it was clear I'd caught her quiet words. "It's fine," she repeated, with about as much success as the last few times.

I wasn't convinced.

"It's not just them, and it's nothing new," she went on. "I warned you before, didn't I? Assassins and Knights don't mix, let alone date. Did you think it was just me going on about it? I wouldn't have been nearly as bothered if it were just my problem."

But it wasn't just her, and apparently I'd been too stupid to realise it. I felt like an idiot. I'd probably been too distracted with the joy of actually having a girlfriend that I'd failed to notice what was going on around me. Ren had accused me of that less than a week into Blake and I being a thing. The Monk had also politely told me that if he had to listen to one more example of why Blake was wonderful, he'd stab me through the throat.

Apparently, I'd been pretty insufferable about it all.

"I just don't understand why," I said. "I know Assassins have a bad rep because of what they do, but I'm fairly sure that's kill, not seduce innocent Knights."

"I didn't seduce you!" Blake's cheeks flushed, but she fought the colour back down. "Besides, it doesn't have to make sense. Most of them aren't even suggesting I'm threatening you at all."

I didn't miss her omission. My stomach twisted.

"What are they suggesting?"

Blake sighed. "It doesn't matter. Ignore them."

"What are they saying, Blake?"

"Does it matter? It's not true."

I came to a stop. Blake carried on a step or two, but quickly realised her options were either discussion or dragging me back to the Lodge. Her eyes were flat, bored, almost disinterested. If anything, she seemed more annoyed by my reaction than what others were potentially saying about her.

"Tell me," I urged.

"Will it make a difference if I do?" Blake let go of my hand, crossing her arms. "I am an Assassin. To them, they look at that and believe I am a person who would kill for money. I will do whatever I have to do for lien." She looked away. "Does that answer your question?"

It did. I felt sick. "They're saying I'm paying you…?"

"You make it sound like it's your fault." Blake laughed. "No, they consider you innocent in this. They think I'm whoring myself out, and that you're simply making use of my services." She sighed and closed her eyes. "I've had people ask for my rates."

My body shook. I couldn't believe it. How could I not have noticed? What kind of person was I to sit back and smile while she was going through this? I turned back towards the two from earlier, but yet again, Blake stopped me.

"Why?" I asked, looking down to her hand about mine. It was small and delicate, but not weak, nor fragile. I was fairly confident my Strength was higher than hers, even with our Level discrepancy, but she could put me on the ground if she wanted to. I didn't want to hurt her, either. "How can you stand there with a straight face when they're saying all these things about you? If you tell me it's because you're used to it, I swear I'll go over there and draw arms!"

"You won't," she said, smiling. "I won't let you. As much as you don't want to hear it, I am used to it, but that's not the real reason I can ignore it. I learned long ago that trying to fight the things they say only makes it worse. If they tell me I'm violent, and I try and use violence to stop them, then they'll only believe it more. If I tell them they're wrong here, they'll think I'm trying to hide it, and that they're closer than ever."

"And what will they think when you do nothing?"

"That it's such a ridiculous idea I can only roll my eyes and move on." She didn't, but she did sneer in their direction. "This has always happened, even before you. Don't take it on your shoulders."

"But they're wrong," I whispered. "They're saying horrible things about you."

"And rushing over there to attack them won't stop it." Blake hesitated, but leaned forward a second later to press a chaste kiss against my lips. "Proving this is more than money will. They'll realise the truth in a bit. Just give them time."

Time… heh, what a cruel notion. I didn't answer her with words, but nodded and scowled instead. If she expected me to be happy about it, she'd be wrong – but I had a feeling she knew that. Hard not to with the look on my face. I couldn't help it. I wanted to test out Crocea Mors on those idiots, and I had no idea how I was going to refrain from going full Nora on someone if they asked Blake if she was free for a night in front of me.

Blood would be shed. That much was obvious.

"People will think what they think," Blake said, intertwining her fingers with mine. She tugged gently, and this time I followed. Away from the prying eyes, the cruel whispers, and the impending fight. "It doesn't bother me as much as it used to," she added. "I have a Guild who know the real me, don't I?"

I held her hand a little tighter.

"You do."

/-/

The freshly-repaired Lodge had become familiar enough to stop taking my breath away whenever I saw it, but that didn't stop the smile from breaking out across my face. The walls were whole and newly repaired, the brick and wood fresh and clean. The windows practically shone with reflected light, hinting at royal blue curtains within, weaved by Velvet, our Seneschal. She stood outside the front door, dressed in a loose white blouse with a leather corset. Below it, she had a rich, maroon skirt that fell to her knees. She crafted everything she wore. The Tailor was busy chatting to Weiss, but her ears turned in our direction when we approached.

"Welcome home," she said dutifully, bowing from the waist.

I laughed awkwardly. "You know you don't have to do that."

"Oh, give it a rest, Arc," Weiss snapped. "If she didn't like it, she'd have stopped by now. Thank you, Velvet. I think that sounds wonderful. I'll procure the materials for you as soon as I can. Are you sure I can't-"

"I'm your Seneschal, Miss Weiss," Velvet said. "I'm paid enough to do some simple stitching for you."

"I wouldn't call a full set of robes simple stitching."

"It is for me." Velvet smiled when Weiss rolled her eyes, and turned to regard them once more. "Just about everyone else has already come back and is inside."

"Everyone?"

"Not Ren and Nora," she amended. "But they're not expected back until a few hours from now. Pyrrha left half an hour ago as well. I think she said she needed to collect something from the main gates. Dinner will be served in an hour if you want to get ready."

I still wasn't sure what to make of Velvet sometimes. It felt like we expected and asked too much, since she cleaned all our clothes, looked after the building and cooked us meals, but she never acted like it was a problem and every time someone tried to help, she would turn them away. Ren was the only one allowed to help her in the kitchen, and the one time Ruby tried there was almost a battle. Then again, that might have had something to do with Yang's stories of Ruby trying to cook when they were younger. Apparently it was closer to Alchemy, since whatever she made was so poisonous it could eat through wood.

Maybe it was like Weiss said. Maybe Velvet genuinely did enjoy working for us, or maybe the money we offered was just that much better than what she would have gotten in Beacon. Looking after eight teenagers had to be better than eight hundred.

Ruby met us the moment we stepped inside. The Reaper had been coming down the staircase, now ornately decorated with a wooden balustrade. Her eyes lit up when she saw us, and she raised a hand in greeting. "Hey J-" She seemed to falter a second later, however, and looked between Blake and I awkwardly. "Oh, uh, hey guys!"

Blake gently pulled her hand away from mine. "I'll go take a bath," she whispered, touching my arm. She smiled and brushed past Ruby, headed up the stairs to the main bathroom. We had two, which would have been nice to split between guys and girls, but with seven girls to two guys, Ren and I had been voted down. Instead, a towel would be left on the door, a silent threat that we would die if we entered.

I shook my head and turned back to the shorter girl. "You okay, Ruby?"

"Mm." Ruby nodded and descended the final steps. Her excitement looked to have waned, but she still managed a smile. She must have thought we were someone else, maybe Yang. "Were you and Blake out together?" she asked.

"We caught up an hour ago," I said. "I was actually out in Vale."

Ruby's head perked up, and her eyes met mine at last. "Really? What for?"

I smirked and swept a hand to the side, moving the brown cloak I now wore over my armour aside. It was enough to reveal the gold and blue hilt that poked from my hip, and to tell Ruby it wasn't my other one, which was currently sheathed across my back.

"Oooh!" Ruby's eyes lit up and she darted forward, everything forgotten as her hands pushed mine aside and she knelt down in front of me. "Is it a new sword? Can I see it? Can I?"

"Go ahead."

Permission was nice, but Ruby was already moving. Her small hands settled around the hilt, and she drew it free without too much trouble. It wasn't overly heavy, but it was unwieldy for her due to its length, and she stumbled for a second before she managed to adjust her balance to hold it. Where I would take it in one hand, she held it two-handed, the blade reaching vertically up in front of her face. I knew she could see her own reflection in it.

Ruby giggled. "It's so shiny. It even has that new weapon feeling."

Most people would have been confused at that, but as someone who made new weapons, I knew what she meant. It felt too clean, too light, and looked too unused, mostly because it was. None of those things were necessarily bad, and were probably what you looked for in an ornamental weapon. Still, those would vanish in time, so it was best to enjoy the feeling while it lasted.

"You saw my old one break," I said. "That's why I've been using this other one for the last few months." My hand touched the hilt over my shoulder.

"Yeah, I did wonder," she said. "I was about to ask if you were trying to look cool like that or not. Wearing a sword on your back…"

"Is stupid, I know." I laughed and poked her shoulder. "It's only there so I can carry it back to my room. I didn't intend to use it."

"Not when you have this," Ruby agreed, still in awe of my latest work. I'll admit that I was proud of it too. She paused for a second, however. "Huh, it looks identical to your old sword. Did you have the same person make it?"

"My Dad," I fibbed. "I asked him to make it as close as possible."

"Well, he did a good job. This isn't close; it's identical!" She let the blade fall to the left, and caught it in her open palm. With a grin, she held it out for me, her hands on the flat of the blade. I took it and sheathed it. "Crescent Rose is still enough for me, though," she said. "There's no better scythe on Remnant!"

I'd have blushed if that meant anything. You couldn't compare apples and acorns, however, and right now, the scythe I'd made for her was being compared to farmer's tools. In all the time we'd been at Beacon, and every time I'd visited the market – any market – to look for weapons, I had never seen another scythe.

Not one. Not even a bad one.

I know it's a class-specific weapon, but what does it mean when no Grimm drop it, and no one forges them? Do War-Scythes even exist outside of the one I made for her?

I blinked when Ruby gently rapped a fist against my breastplate. "Hello, Remnant to Jaune? Is anyone there?"

"Sorry," I said, coming back to reality. "Did I miss something?"

"I was asking what you're up to tomorrow. I need to go farm some lien for a grindstone. I want to keep Crescent Rose sharp, but they only sell hand-held ones at Beacon. I want an actual wheel."

Oh, that sounded nice. I wouldn't say no to something like that myself.

"Blake and I were going to go into the Emerald Forest tomorrow. You could come with us."

Ruby's smile fell, and she took a quick step back. "Uh, I dunno… maybe I shouldn't. You know…"

I didn't, and made that clear from my expression.

She looked away. "I don't want to intrude on something."

"We're only fighting Grimm," I promised. "Come with us. It'll be fun."

"I don't want to be a third wheel…"

"Then bring Yang along, too."

"That would be exactly the same," Ruby groaned. "We'd just be two third wheels."

"Wouldn't that be a fourth?"

Ruby groaned and gave me a look that said I didn't get what she was saying, which was a fair bet since I totally didn't. In the end, she threw her arms in the air and said, "It doesn't matter. I'm busy tomorrow, so I can't come with you."

"But didn't you just-"

"No." Ruby pouted cutely. "No, I didn't."

"I didn't even finis-"

"Whatever you were about to say, I didn't." Ruby decided, quite unreasonably. "Anyway, I need to wake Yang up for dinner. She fell asleep on the couch and Velvet didn't dare wake her up."

"And you do?" I asked, impressed at her bravery.

Ruby looked at me like I was insane. "No… but I'm willing to throw cushions at her until she wakes up on her own, then run away before she can catch me. If she asks, I'll just blame Weiss."

Wow, that was cruel.

"Or I'll blame you," Ruby said, scowling at me.

"What did I do?"

Ruby huffed but wouldn't say, and she stomped through the door into the lounge before I could press the issue. Left alone in the flagstone-floored hallway, it was all I could do to let my hand fall and sigh. Some things had started to make more sense as I got used to being a Hero and not a member of the Labour Caste, but girls?

Those were still beyond me. I didn't think I'd ever missed Ren as much as I did at that moment. Quiet evenings reading in our room, the occasional fishing trip, and long silences where nothing needed to be said. Our relationship was, if nothing else, a glorious one. With a quiet laugh, I moved onto the stairs and started to make my way up. I could dump my gear in my room and have a quick nap before dinner.

The door to the Lodge slammed open before I made it half-way. Pyrrha stood in the entrance, one hand on her knee as she panted for breath. I looked towards her.

"Pyrrha?"

"Jaune!" she gasped, looking up. Her eyes were wide, her face white. I couldn't remember seeing the Champion so nervous, and I'd already cleared the steps and was halfway towards her when I spoke.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"It's Ren and Nora. They're back from their Quest. They… They've been attacked."

My stomach fell.

"Ren is badly hurt..."


Well, that's a start. I'm glad to be back with this fic, as I really do enjoy writing it. The week off to plan is very necessary, however. I need to be able to make sure everything is set in order, and that I know what I'm writing. Even a single week isn't really enough for that (since it only actually translates to a single day), but it's a start.

On Jaune's level, like he said, three months is a long time, but it's been three months of relative peace and quiet. That's not to say he didn't earn any EXP in it, but it took him from just being into 24, all the way up towards 25, which be breached in this chapter.


/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Jaune Arc

Level 25 (+1)

Blacksmith

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Str: 64 (+3) (A)

Con: 52 (+3) (B)

Dex: 15 (+1) (D) (Rune: 19)

Agi: 24 (+1) (C)

Int: 32 (+2) (C)

Wis: 42 (+3) (B)

Cha: 12 (+0) (D)

Res: 65 (+4) (A)

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Passive Skill

-Fire from the Forge-

Immunity to heat, flames and associated damage caused from his forging process.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Known Active Skills

-Stoke the Forge-

Generate intense heat in the hand for a short period of time, capable of super-heating metal to forging temperatures without the use of a forge.

-Quench-

Rapidly cool metal-based material to achieve a hardening effect during the forging process. Quench can only be used in metallurgy, as opposed to Stoke the Forge, which can generate heat in the hand irrespective of what it is then used on.

-Runesmithing-

The ability to etch Runes onto weapons, the effect of which is determined by the Rune itself. Limited to a single Rune per weapon.

-Runes-

Rune of Minor Dexterity - +4 to Dexterity


So, yeah, Jaune is using his Runes – but it's to patch up deficiencies more than anything else. Still, four points is a big deal when it's in your lowest skill. To note, even though Jaune already said it, there is no obvious way for him to see or feel the Rune having been added. As such, Blake might feel "slightly healthier" or find herself able to take more hits, but she would not notice the increase. It would be even less obvious for her since she's a higher Level, and thus has higher Stats across the board.

The "Runes" list will be updated as he discovers and shows more. ;)


Next Chapter: 2nd October

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur