Important Message re Trolls

God, I'm not sure why this is happening now. Maybe it's a continuation of the hacking thing, who knows. Ahem. It has come to my attention that some people have been spamming antagonistic and argumentative reviews anonymously, changing their name to match those of other reviewers, in an effort to draw condemnation on specific people.

I have had someone PM me to kindly request I mention this, as they have never even read my stuff, let alone reviewed, but apparently some people have been faking his name to inflame arguments in the reviews, leading to him getting contacted by some fans telling him to stop.

I've seen it across a few stories, from Forged to Dating what Daddy Hates, and with different people, too. They're not even flame reviews in some cases, more nonsensical attacks on other reviewers designed to start fights. I would advise people not take any guest reviews seriously (or at least ones trying to provoke people) as there's a good chance it's just trolling.

It's even more ridiculous when you see a review from a signed in person, let's say for example "ABC1" and it's just a normal review, and then four reviews later there is a guest who calls himself "ABC1", and he is basically spamming how RWBY is shit, Lancaster needs to die and other stuff designed to offend, igniting flame wars and leading to the real "ABC1" getting a bunch of angry PM's.

Be aware, and let's not rise to it.


Beta: College Fool

Cover Art: Dishwasher1910

Book 7: Chapter 6


There was a protest in the streets outside the palace.

It was a small thing, no more than a hundred or so people, and mostly peaceful, but it was the first sign of the civil unrest King Galan had mentioned, and I couldn't help but watch. Those involved were a mixture of Classes, but came mostly from the Labour Caste, although there were a few Soldiers mixed in.

I couldn't make out what they were saying or chanting. No doubt something angry. The thought that they might have been protesting about me left my stomach flipping. I hadn't asked them to do this, nor did I want it, and yet here they were, causing a scene in the middle of Vale. To my relief, the King hadn't ordered them dismissed or hurt.

The Royal Guard had reacted, however. They had come out in force to guard the inner wall of the palace, standing shoulder to shoulder with their weapons sheathed, but their armour on fully display. The message was clear, that the scene would be allowed to exist, but not move forward, nor threaten the palace.

"It's the first sign of movement from them," a voice behind me whispered. Saren melted from the shadows, heels clicking on the floor – intentionally, no doubt – as he came to stand beside me. "They've been whipping up unrest in a few small villages, but this is the first organised display from them."

"Them?" I asked. "Do we know who they are now?"

"They call themselves `The Dawn`, likely referencing the dawn of a new age. Their message is still fragmented, suggesting confusion or arguments among the leadership, but at the very least they are demanding the truth over what happened in the arena."

"About my transformation?"

"So it would seem." Saren rolled his eyes and let out a loud, bitter laugh. "They claim they're doing this for the betterment of all, but in reality they only care about is trying to replicate your feat. Personal advancement, nothing more. They're selfish at heart."

I wasn't so sure. Or rather, I wasn't sure that was as bad a thing as Saren suggested. He didn't know what it was like to be at the bottom, not like I did. Was it selfish to dream? Was it arrogant to try and earn a better life for yourself, so long as you didn't hurt anyone in the doing so? Knowing my opinion wouldn't be a favoured one, I nodded. "Yeah. It looks bad. Is the King going to do anything?"

"What can he do? Disperse them and he appears a tyrant. Allow this, and he looks weak. Every action he makes comes with consequences. My role is to protect him from those I can, not to know his every decision."

The protest had drawn a larger crowd around it now, though fortunately they appeared more to be curious spectators than active participants. The protest itself was getting louder, though they had yet to make any aggressive motions.

I wondered if they'd made demands or were just shouting, but my thoughts were cut off when a figure stepped out from the gates of the palace's walls and moved slowly forward alone.

"Ah," Saren hummed, impressed. "Sending Hazel. Interesting play."

"He's going out on his own?" I asked, concerned for the man.

"Send guards with him and it will seem as though the King fears the crowd. Hazel is a professional, have a little faith in him. The guards are close enough to respond should things turn violent, and Hazel is not without his own defences."

Charisma? My lips drew together as I imagined that, Hazel calmly telling the crowd to leave and them doing it, their will subverted by simple words. It would solve the problem, but not in a way I could approve of.

Sadly, we were too far away to hear what Hazel said, but he clearly addressed the crowd, stave at his side and the other arm gesturing. It didn't seem he was manipulating them, not yet, because the crowd was still there and obviously angry.

"He's trying to reason with them?"

"It's a good plan if it works," Saren said. "For the most part, this is a battle for the hearts and minds of those watching, the undecided. If we respond with force, they will feel sympathy for the protesters they see being forced away. If we do nothing, they might see it as a sign of guilt. Addressing their concerns peacefully, however, ensures that the King comes across as mature, understanding and prepared to listen to the problems of his people."

"Is it all just an act, then?"

"Not entirely. The King is prepared to listen, and often does. But he is a busy man with much work and can't always respond to every single person. Such would be impossible. For the most part, he responds to representatives. In this case, we are already trying to deal with what they want. That's why you're here, why you are involved in the Royal Court."

True. Nothing had been decided yet, which was why the King couldn't give an actual answer to those outside. Once things were set in stone, he could proclaim it, but until my role in the Kingdom was decided, and an understanding reached on my Class change, there was no such answer to these people's demands.

A rock sailed from the crowd. It struck Hazel on the cheek.

I gasped and leaned over the railing. "Hazel!"

"Wait," Saren gripped his elbow, as if worried Jaune might leap off the balcony, somehow survive the drop and run to Hazel's aid. "Have faith."

Hazel had been brought low by the rock, not to the ground, but down on one knee, vulnerable. He planted his staff down, using it to drag himself up. Even from so great a distance, the splash of red across the left of his face spoke of injury. Despite it, Hazel began to speak once more, spreading his free hand wide and taking a step forward.

The crowd shuffled awkwardly. Those watching, the spectators, murmured in anger or disgust. Not at Hazel, but at the protesters themselves, who suddenly looked far less certain of themselves, some backing away from where the rock had come from. A few on the edges dispersed, not wanting to be seen as violent, let alone invite a response from the guards.

Slowly at first, but with increasing speed, the protest began to fall apart. Even the most fanatical, when faced with the prospect of having to stand their ground, found reason to leave. Hazel had turned the crowd on themselves, or rather he had let them do it for him. Those watching nodded, pleased to see no violence done by the King's men.

As the crowd dissipated, a hooded figure slipped through the crowd.

"There!" I shouted, hand snapping forward. "Saren, do you-?"

Saren was already moving. The Assassin was over the balcony and scaling down the wall, gripping to handholds I could barely make out. He landed on the grass hard and sprinted to the wall. A shadow detached itself, and for a moment I feared he might be attacked. Saren rushed up to the man and gripped his shoulder. They spoke quietly, the figure nodding. A second later, Saren pushed him away and the man vanished, hurrying out the gate and away.

A Greycloak.

Right there, in the middle of the crowd. The thought I might be wrong didn't even cross my mind. I'd seen that cloak too many times, had its weave engrained into my mind. There were Greycloaks in the city and they were already taking over the protests. It was a confirmation of my worst fears.

/-/

The Court was abuzz with chatter about the protest when I entered it later that day, around lunchtime. I'd not seen Saren since he left my balcony, but he was probably in meetings with the King, who was also absent, along with Hazel. A few of the Noble Caste looked my way when I entered the grand hall, but most got over my presence quickly enough. I'd already become a recognised figure.

"Shouting at the Palace, as if that would change anything," someone said.

"Ought to petition through the normal channels. No. This is nothing more than a front. They want to instigate something."

"Well, we should reply in kind."

"Fool! That's what they want us to do."

"To do nothing is just as bad! It is a sign of weakness."

"Get your misplaced pride out of this, boy. Cooler heads prevail where fools run in."

I passed the arguing pair, coming close to a gaggle of women with a young child or two clutched to their sides. They were whispering, though not so quietly that no one could hear them.

"-rumours that Balcor declared independence."

"You mad? It's little more than a town on the border. A glorified village. They wouldn't be able to protect themselves."

"It's what I heard. They say they're tired of the King's rule."

"Don't believe everything you hear. That's Lady Katherine's holding. Do you think she would look so calm if that were the case?"

"Mark my words-"

A hand fell on my shoulder, interrupting my eavesdropping, "Jaune. Good day!"

Surprised but hiding it, I turned with a smile that didn't quite match my eyes. I barely knew anyone here and knew to be wary of them all, but the largeish figure before me was a familiar one. It was the Noble from the day before, the one who had proposed making me the Lord of Ansel.

"Samson?"

"Ha ha, you remembered. Good, good." Unlike the others, he wore a calm smile. "Quite the way to wake up, no? To those outside."

"You don't look overly concerned," I said.

"Bah, not at all. If they were in greater numbers then perhaps, but what these fools forget is that this was as much predicted. We knew there was unrest before now, so something like this was bound to happen. Lord Hazel handled it well, as did the King."

"You don't think it's a bad sign, then?"

"It's a sign, and that sign is bad, but it's no surprise and that is what matters. The War, on the other hand." He shook his head. "Now that was bad and a surprise. We had so little time to prepare for it. This? In comparison, this is a trifling matter."

"Was the war really so sudden?" I had to ask. "My Guild and I were on the Quest to Mistral. We knew for months that there were problems when the ships were attacked."

"Months may seem like a lot of time to you, but it isn't in the grand scheme of things. It takes years to increase military forces and training. The best we could do was shore up defences, which was done. Everyone expected the attack, if it came, to come when the weather was warmer. Either way, it was not as if we could magic up more troops. But let's not speak of such. The war is over, the day won."

"I guess so." It wasn't that I wanted to dwell on the war, more that I didn't know what else to talk about, and the past was a safe topic. The Nobles couldn't lure me into saying or doing anything if we just talked about what had already happened.

"What think you of the protests?" Samson asked. "You were once Labour Caste just like they."

"I still am Labour Caste."

"Only technically. I doubt it will stick." Samson nudged my side as he said that, as if he were sharing a joke, or some secret he felt I'd be pleased to hear.

I wasn't. I didn't want to change.

"Whatever the case," I said carefully, "I don't know what to think. They should follow and respect the laws, but I don't think there are any against scenes like that. The rock throwing was wrong, obviously, but everything else was okay. I don't agree with it, but I can understand why they want answers."

"Hmm. A safe answer that offends no one. Ha, we could make a Noble out of you yet."

I laughed awkwardly. It was probably inevitable he noticed that, my Charisma being what it was.

"I don't think I'm in a position to give any other, Lord Samson."

"None of that now," he said, "Not unless you want me to call you `Sir Jaune Arc of Ansel`, as seems to be your title around these parts. Call me Samson. As for those outside, I don't disagree per se. They want answers and that is all well and fine. Still, they could do to have a little patience. We are not withholding them by choice!" Samson laughed. "We all want answers. Unfortunately, life is not always so kind as to grant them straight away."

"Maybe Hazel told them that," I said.

"Perhaps, but it is up to them to decide if they will listen. Or believe his words."

Samson was correct, of course, and if the Greycloaks were involved and trying to whip up problems, then they'd be busy convincing everyone that the Nobles were hiding something, or me. Perhaps trying to control me using their nefarious Skills in Charisma.

A part of me wondered what their plan was, what they intended of me in the event that they did win. Would they try to force me to co-operate? Maybe. They might as easily kill me, blame it on the King and make me a martyr for their cause. That would be the ultimate insult. All of a sudden, I wasn't sure how safe I felt in the Palace. Despite being better protected than Beacon, I couldn't trust the people here as well as I could those in the Guild.

Knowing Samson was awaiting a response, I said, "No Lady Katherine with you today?"

"I'm afraid not. She is… indisposed."

"I heard about one of her holdings rebelling."

Samson's brows drew together, and he let out a little sigh. "That is what she is indisposed with, though not as you might imagine. Her holding has not declared independence, it remains loyal, but the rumours are spreading, and Katherine wishes to find out who is spreading them and put a stop to it."

"So, there's no rebellion?"

"Not yet, and I doubt her holdings would. They are far enough away that the King's rule is by proxy of Lady Katherine as it is. If it had, you could rest assured she would have been drawn before the King to explain already. That she has not should be proof enough the rumours are malicious and little more."

"I see." If it were true, they were vicious rumours indeed. "Is this all just to lower her standing?"

"Hard to say without knowing who is behind it. Could be as you say, or it might just be a spiteful rumour from a rival, or even a spurned lover. There are some of us who can be so very childish," Samson admitted, with a roll of the eyes. "I blame it on a spoiled upbringing myself. Some children are raised believing the world is theirs to take. To be rejected shatters their world, makes them angry where it ought to have them respect a lady's wishes."

His expression became a little more serious, then. "But it could just as easily be these Greycloaks we hear of. Rumour as it may be, all it takes is for some uninformed villagers on the other side of the Kingdom to believe them, and suddenly they might rebel in solidarity. They might not even realise they are the first, but the Greycloaks could ride that wave, instigating more."

"Is there a chance Mistral might take advantage of the upheaval to attack again?"

"I wouldn't count on it. Atlas had to remain neutral in the last conflict lest they spark a war to engulf all of Remnant, but here, with the issue being internal, they have already offered their support. Were Mistral to attack now, Atlas would be expected to come to our aid."

"Would they?"

"Probably." Samson shrugged. "In the end, it doesn't matter. The very fact they `could` will be enough to prevent any opportunism by Mistral. Besides, I understand they are having their own problems along a similar vein to our own."

"They are?" I turned, shocked. "This is the first I've heard of it!"

"I wouldn't be surprised. You've been trapped in the palace all this time. It's nothing too dramatic. There are just those with split opinion over the fate of the King and the war. Some call it a waste and are angry, while others are furious they lost and believe in their own superiority. I would not expect civil war, but there are arguments and those shouting for conflict."

"I assumed the people of Mistral would just do whatever the Royal family said. Isn't that a part of their religion?"

"To a degree, yes. But it is also a part of their culture to have a strict adherence to rules, honour and duty." Like Tyrian had, like Cinder had. "Compare that to the King's decision to break the Treaty," Samson said. "You can see why some find this dishonourable, even if it is from the King. Even those who religiously followed him will just claim that his advisors must have waylaid him, convinced him to do so dishonourable a thing."

"Even if they didn't?"

"It's a complicated thing, Jaune. You cannot predict every person's reaction and trapped between religious belief and ingrained cultural norms, people do not know what to think or where to turn. Do you hold belief in a King who dishonoured himself, forsaking your way of life? Or do you reject him, forsaking your religion? I'd say it is that internal confusion driving conflict over there. People are angry and confused and, as people all too often do, they lash out at others rather than face their inner demons."

I wasn't sure what to say about that. Pyrrha had said how rigid and unyielding the people were, and I'd seen that myself. At least Mistral wouldn't come to try and take advantage of our own problems. To Samson, I simply said, "You're quite the philosopher."

"Well-read at best," he deflected, with a modest laugh. "My parents were quite strict on that."

"Mine as well."

"Perhaps we are not so different then." Samson looked left and right and spoke in a softer voice, "Have you given mine and Katherine's proposal any thought?"

Suddenly nervous, I leaned back. "A little."

"And?"

"I'm undecided. I need more time."

"Still?"

"It's only been a day. This is a lot to think about."

Samson frowned, but eventually nodded. "I see, I see. Well, we can give you time. As much as we can. There are some clamouring for a Lord to be decided."

"I promise I'll think on it."

"That's all I can ask." Samson glanced to the side as the main doors opened. "Looks like we are to be interrupted either way."

Hazel marched through the main hall, face stern and uncompromising, though that might have been the small cut above his left eye accentuating his already firm expression. He looked left and right, spotted me and made his way over. His eyes roved over Samson as he did.

"Lord Hazel," Samson greeted with a bow. "Masterful work earlier, turning the crowd's anger on themselves. I was most impressed."

"Thank you, Lord Samson. I only did my duty. Jaune, would you mind if I called you away? The King wishes to speak with you."

"I won't keep you," Samson said, bowing out.

/-/

Hazel was silent as he led me deeper into the Palace, through doors and corridors I had not traversed before. Servants watched our passing but said nothing, and Hazel's silence was perhaps a warning for me to stay the same.

It wasn't until we had stepped into a narrower corridor, one free of all people with thick red curtains drawn over the windows, that he relaxed and spoke.

"I apologise for the interruption, but the matter is important."

"It's fine," I said. "Am I in trouble?"

"No. Do not even think so. As to security, I meant security regarding the protest outside, and the suspected ringleaders of it."

"The Greycloaks."

"Yes." Hazel came to a door, ornate and heavy, but not overly guarded. I doubted it was the King's chambers, if I would even be graced to enter such. "In here," Hazel said. "The meeting is already in progress, but you are expected."

"You're not coming with?" I asked.

"I have work elsewhere." Hazel knocked twice on the door and pushed it open, taking the choice out of my hands. Nervously, I stepped inside.

The first thing to catch my eye was the large, square table in the centre of the room, a heavy wooden thing set on the stone floor. There was a red tapestry thrown over it, and a number of important looking documents over that. King Galan was on the other side of it, standing with his hands on the table. Gone was the slouched, impartial figure on the throne. The man had a frown on his face now as he talked at the person beside him. Said person turned to me.

"Ozpin!?"

"Ah, Jaune. Good to see you. Come in, come in." He motioned, and when I took a step forward the door behind me closed. I flinched and looked back, but it seemed the door was weighted to do so. I was alone with Ozpin and the King, and it didn't quite feel right.

"Saren watches the corridors, his shadows the halls and outside." the King said. "This chamber is secure."

"His majesty means that you may approach and speak as you wish," Ozpin said, a little more relaxed around royalty. "Come, what we have to discuss concerns you, Mr Arc. It concerns us all, but you most of all."

Nervously, I moved up to the table. "What is it?"

"You saw the protest outside," the King said.

"I did."

"Saren reports that you saw the one leading it." When I nodded, he continued. "It was expected that the Greycloaks might seek to take control of this. Expected, but not desired. Ozpin may not have informed you, but the Greycloaks are a national and international threat. All proceedings against them have my blessing and my involvement."

"Your Quests to Atlas and Mistral were sanctioned by the Crown," Ozpin quickly explained. "You may not know, but it is actually illegal for me to commission a Quest. Conflicting loyalties, what with my position as Headmaster of Beacon. Co-operation is important, and Beacon has ever been servants of the Crown."

"Is that why Cinder got involved? I thought it was odd that the Crown Princess was the one who responded to the Quest…"

"Yes. Although strong enough on her own, Cinder Fall was no student of Haven and thus it would have made no sense for her to be there. I'm impressed you saw through that. Mistral's Royal Family considered the Greycloaks a big enough threat to instruct her to act, though I'm sure there was more to it than that."

"I guess it makes sense, but I'm not sure how it changes anything."

"It changes my ability to act were I pressured," the King responded. "The Greycloaks may well be aiming their focus at removing or distracting me not as a part of their goals, but as a means of keeping Beacon's attention away from their operations."

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.

"You mean they're not trying to generate negativity to summon Salem?"

"They might be, but we do not believe so," Ozpin said. "Recall that they have already summoned her numerous times. They have the process down; they've even refined it. The war, this unrest, many of the things they have done to encourage it, is not done so because it is necessary to them, but because it is necessary we respond to it."

"They're distracting us," I said. "Keeping us occupied and away from their real goals…"

I couldn't believe it. All this time, all the things we'd done and been through, and none of it was important. No. It was important, important to us, but it wasn't to the Greycloaks. We'd been running around risking our lives, working our asses off, and it was us playing to their tune the entire time.

"Then… everything we've done. It's a waste…"

"No!" Ozpin barked, slapping a hand down. "Not a waste, Mr Arc. Never. Our actions – whether they impeded the Greycloaks or not – safeguarded the Kingdom and the lives of those living in it. We had to act, and we did. Or do you believe stopping the war to be a waste of time?"

My eyes widened. "No. Of course not. Alright, I get what you mean. So, what happening now? This unrest thing, it's another attempt to keep everyone busy?"

"It would seem so, and yet we think there might be more danger," Ozpin said. "You've probably noticed, but the Greycloaks are testing the summoning process, seeking to refine it and better understand how it works, how Salem acts and how best to get around her tendency to… punish the one who makes the wish."

"Saren and Hazel explained that much to me."

"Good. What they might not have informed you is that we have strong reason to believe there will be a summoning in Vale."

"What!?"

"You recall Roman Torchwick, no doubt."

"It's only been a month or two, Ozpin. I remember him. He talked?"

"After some persuasion, yes." Ozpin looked to the King with some disquiet. Galan looked unconcerned, and remarkably unrepentant. "Roman gave us all he had and more, recalling not just his instructions but also how they acted in each case, the one giving the instructions. His job was to facilitate the summoning in each scenario."

"And how did ripping off students in Beacon help with that?" I asked.

"Why, he was seeking to make people desperate. To push them into a corner, using his Charisma to convince you that we – the faculty – could do nothing, and that any attempt to speak with us would yield no support. Trapped and without any hope, he might then have approached such students with an offer. A way out of their debt."

"Coco's friend," I whispered, aghast. "He-?"

"We believe so."

"Does she know…?"

"We thought it a kindness not to tell her. I know it is unfair, but if Miss Adel knew, she might seek to summon Salem herself, if only in an attempt to take vengeance. It would mean her death."

"Damn it." My eyes scrunched shut. Had we been close to that fate as well? I didn't want to imagine it. "What else?" I begged, desperate to change the subject. "What else did he say?"

"He also spoke of an increase in the rate of summons, of new knowledge and – unfortunately – the Greycloaks closing in on an answer. His position in Beacon was already to end before you found him, hence why Watts was there. His instructions thereafter were to continue Merlot's work, facilitating summons in the other Kingdoms."

"Mistral first," the King said. "And then Vale, and onto Vacuo. We are not sure why, but if their goal is research, then it perhaps makes sense that they would wish a large sample size. Either way, they seem to believe there is a purpose or a means to summoning her in each Kingdom. For all we know, it is a prerequisite to earning a true wish from her."

"Like a ritual?"

"It is one of our guesses," Ozpin said. "Certainly, it would be easier for them to do it in private, deep in the mountains where no one would hear or see anything. There must be a reason the Greycloaks are taking risks in doing it across all of Remnant, spreading their resources thin. The problem, I'm afraid, comes from their attempt in Vale. In Magnis."

"Roux," I said. "But he didn't…" I gasped. "He didn't summon her. It failed." Realisation set in. "They're missing the Vale component. That's why you think they'll come back to do it here! And the war… it would have been the perfect cover. No one would have had time to stop it, if we even noticed."

"And now we have desperate people using you as a symbol to escape the shackles of the Caste System," Ozpin said. "A ripe garden for seeking one who might make a wish, no?"

"We have to stop them."

"I'm glad you agree. The Greycloaks are using this distrust between the Noble and Labour Caste to spark conflict, and you are one of their tools. I think it's only fair you have an opportunity to respond."

"You want me to stop them?" I asked, glancing to the King. "I'm willing, but aren't I effectively locked in here?"

"Such was never our intent," the King said. "Only in early terms, to avoid confusion. We have what you can give us on your new Class. It is up to the Court now to decide how to handle it. Until then, there is little reason to keep you so confined."

My eyes lit up. "I can leave?"

"You can travel," Ozpin answered. "We have spoken and agreed this much. You will still return and stay at the Palace, but you will be free to roam Vale all the way to Beacon should you wish. Not beyond. We would ask you to remain in the city."

"That's fine," I said, too excited to care. I hadn't really intended to leave anyway. "Is this to be a Quest?"

"Officially, no. Quests must go through the Questing House and be taxed as they happen. This creates records and we have no idea how deep the corruption goes. We were hoping for something a little subtler."

I wasn't sure why they were leaving me on edge. They had to know I'd be willing. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

"I'm glad to hear that." Ozpin tested his words, hesitated for a moment. It was so unlike him that I couldn't help but pay more attention, which I doubted what his intent. "Your Guild and you have had something of a… falling out."

Gods, even Ozpin knew?

"It won't effect our performance on a Quest. Or whatever this is. We can work together if we have to."

"No. Actually, what we're looking for is quite the opposite. Your issues with the Guild are… I would not say well-known, but visible, at least within Beacon. As we already expect some of the students to be spies, this has no doubt been passed on to the Greycloaks. As the Guild most often sent to deal with them, I anticipate you will all be figures of some interest."

Well, that wasn't a nice thought. He was probably right though.

"My hope is that this can work to our advantage. If we were to stage – purely make-believe, of course – a more explosive fracture within your Guild, perhaps one in which you publicly storm away, then it might catch their attention."

The reason for Ozpin's uncertainty became a whole lot clearer, as did my reluctance. "You want us to make it worse?" I asked weakly. Even if it wasn't real and was just an act, I wasn't sure playing with a very real problem was a good idea.

But then again, this was for the good of the Kingdom. Maybe even the world.

"They would be informed of course," Ozpin assured me. "I've already brought it up with them and they said it would be your decision, as you would be the one in danger. It would be a staged argument, but perhaps enough to draw their eye. Even if they do not see the value of you as a possible spy, the Labour Caste Movement `New Dawn` would almost have to try and bring you into their ranks. You are their symbol, after all."

"My job is to infiltrate their ranks, then?"

"Infiltrate is a poor word," the King said. "It suggests subtly. This is to be anything but. You would be a visible figure within them, and we are not suggesting you join. Even if you did so in our favour, the populace would not know. It would work against the Crown and plunge the Kingdom into chaos."

"What, then?" I asked.

"We are suggesting you allow them a chance to woo you, to convince you. Encourage their pursuit but do so without agreeing to anything. Play them, learn more about them, be seen in their presence, but never as a part of their group."

"And this will help stop the Greycloaks?"

"It will," Ozpin said.

"How?"

"Two ways; the first is that your presence in New Dawn, or before them, will help fracture the member's allegiance to the Greycloaks. Instead, many will look to you. When this ends and you declare allegiance with the King, many of their members will be left unwilling to fight. If enough leave, the movement might disband, leaving the Greycloaks without any momentum. Secondly, it will allow you to get close to the Greycloaks and see what they are doing specifically, passing that information back on to us."

"Saren has been informed to allow your Assassin friend through our defences," the King said. "She will act as a secret liaison between you and Beacon, so that even when you are here, you need not give the game away by entertaining your friends."

"And you will not be able to," Ozpin warned. To his credit, he looked at least a little regretful. "For the duration of this, you will need to sell the idea that you hate one another. No, not hate. That you have been hurt and have been mistrusted, that you cannot trust them entirely in turn."

It was a little too close to the truth. My face must have shown it.

"I'm sorry, but it's the only way, Mr Arc. If you even bump into them during this, both sides would need to continue the charade."

"It is going to be a charade, right?" I asked.

"Absolutely. You are free to meet with them before this begins, plan ahead, even decide on what you will say to one another. There will be no confusion here, I promise. You might even feel free to script your argument, with both you and they knowing it is fake. The last thing I want, Mr Arc, the very last thing, is to break up your Guild. Not when it has been so instrumental against the Greycloaks."

I believed him. If not for his words alone, then by simple common sense. Belief, however, was not enough to make me feel entirely happy with the plan. Things were hard enough already, and if we went ahead with this I wouldn't be able to spend time with any of them, not without us all pretending to be fighting still. Blake would be the only one I'd get to see, and right now, with how things were, I had a feeling that would be even worse.

"Are there any alternative plans?" I asked.

"Some." Ozpin looked to the King and grimaced. "They're not ideal, however. Each has a chance to become violent quickly. We need the Greycloaks dealt with before they can summon Salem, and that requires a certain degree of immediate action. Our route with you is subtle and allows us to identify the true targets to remove. The other…"

"Mass eradication," the King said.

Nausea rolled around inside my gut. I stared at the man, waiting for him to take back what he'd just said. He did not. "W-What?"

"Not our desired method, but necessary. The Greycloaks are a disease within the city, and they have the potential to spread like the worst plague. Lacking a cure, we would be best served removing all infected tissue."

"T-The people would revolt," I stammered. "It would be a massacre."

"It would. A King's duty is not always kind. Some innocent people would die and that frustrates me, do not believe otherwise. But if I do not act, if I allow fear and indecision to hold me back, yet more will die. Salem cannot be summoned within the walls of the city. Otherwise, Vale might suffer the same fate Vacuo did."

Vacuo…

Sun's warnings, a whole Kingdom ground to sand.

My eyes clenched shut.

Hate it as I did, they weren't wrong. At least, I didn't think so. This wasn't something that could be ignored, and better to handle it now, while it was small, then let the numbers grow and necessitate more deaths. Of course, that was only if they went with their secondary option. The first, using me, might be safer. I would become the cure in the metaphor, medicine that sought out the true cause of the infection, from which that could be treated with hard steel. It would mean less people dying, provided I was successful.

"Fine." A grimace worked its way onto my face. "I'll do it. But I want to talk to the Guild first. I want them to understand why this is happening."

"Saren will help you sneak out of the Palace tonight," the King said. "And thank you, Jaune Arc. Whatever your Class might dictate, you may well be the Hero the Kingdom needs."

The compliment didn't help as much as I wished it would.


Welp, the Greycloaks are showing up, and some more reveals re their intentions, etc. I can almost imagine the Knightshade wars sparking from this chapter, but I'll cut them off now. No, the fact that Blake is being named here as the go-between is NOT going to mean that there will only be Jaune talking with Blake for the next X number of chapters.

They are just plans being made by the King and Ozpin. Jaune's spat with the whole Guild is an important part of this book, so I'm not going to be alienating all of them just to facilitate a single ship.


Next Chapter: 12th November

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur