When Aspen last stood in Beacon, the air had burned with fear and hate. Machines and Grimm didn't have emotion or auras, but the fear they incited in the people who were not hunters or hunter-students had driven through her from every direction at once. And the White Fang… Their auras had torn and scorched and lashed her until she lost herself to baser impulses and returned the pain in kind. Amidst the fire, their deaths had left her feeling colder than she could have imagined.

Stepping off the airship back onto Beacon grounds, Aspen felt those same feelings surge up her legs through her feet. It wasn't a particularly powerful surge—only rising just above her knees—and yet it was enough to give her pause. She had never felt this before. She lifted one leg, and the feelings faded away. When she put it down again, they returned with just as much pressure. It was almost as if…

"Hey, Aspen. Sorry if I kept you waiting." Aspen ignored the rusty-feathered aura that had approached her in favor of bending over and placing one hand on the ground. As with her legs, the painful blend of emotions leached up her arm nearly to her shoulder. The man's—Qrow's, she realized—aura ruffled with confusion. "Is, uh… the ground okay?"

Aspen pulled her hand away from the stone platform. The pain lingered for only a moment. "I… do not know. I have never felt emotions from it before, but here I feel fear and anger." She looked up at the man. "Is the ground alive?"

Qrow's confusion grew, but quickly softened and warmed with sympathy and amusement. "Not exactly," he said, gesturing toward her with one arm. "C'mon. I'll try to explain on the way to Good Witch's office." No one had really told Aspen what it was she was supposed to do after she'd been released, but it seemed Qrow knew, so she followed him without argument.

"The simple answer," he explained, "is that, no, the ground isn't alive. Sure, there's worms and bugs and stuff, but they don't really count." Aspen nodded in understanding. She could sense all the smaller organisms living in the soil if she really focused, but humans and faunus were the only things that had a true aura as far as she was aware. "When you get a lot of negative emotions in one place, though, they tend to stick around. No one's ever really been able to figure out why. We do know that it attracts Grimm," he glanced down at her as if gauging her reaction, "and sometimes if it's bad enough, even we normal people can feel it. Uh, humans and faunus, I mean."

Aspen pursed her lips. So, she was feeling the same emotions, soaked into the ground and lingering even a week later. That made more sense than the ground itself being alive, at least, even if she didn't fully understand how it worked either. "Humans and faunus… You can feel emotions as well?" This was the first time she'd heard about this ability outside of the Rephaim.

Qrow frowned. "Yes, but not the same way you do. How to put this…?" He raised one hand to rub his chin, and the rust in his aura flaked along her skin. "It's not a physical feeling, more of a… sense. Like, whatever's still lingering starts to affect our own emotions, feeding everything back to us and then cycling back down again." He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know if any of that made sense to you…"

"I think I understand," Aspen said. "It is like… placing a stone in boiling water."

Qrow laughed, gruff and short. "Yeah, something like that."

They walked across the campus in silence for another minute. The further they got from her initial landing point, the weaker the emotions soaked into the ground felt. Through her calves, at first, then up to her ankles, then only along the soles of her feet like a bed of hot coals. While that pain receded, however, she felt other auras—real, living auras, hazy as they were—that carried their own pain. Around her, Aspen saw a dozen or so people repairing damaged buildings and pathways. They did not appear to be acknowledging their… grief, anger, and fear, but the emotions were there nonetheless.

Aspen's eyes settled on a collapsed wall that a group of workers labored to clear. Faded blue eyes rose in her memory and she paused mid-step. "Hmm? Everything alright?" Qrow asked, stopping just ahead of her.

"I…" Aspen felt cold, although she was uncertain if it was real or imagined or something else. She shook her head and continued walking. Qrow's worried aura nagged at her, however, and she knew she had to speak. "I know I do not have emotions like you do, but I have felt fear. I have felt anger. I have felt… sorrow. Guilt. Shame. In your auras, these are the emotions that hurt the most. They are the ones that pierce the deepest, and they are the ones I have found linger the longest." She glanced back at the workers, who had shifted one of the larger stone chunks. "Both in myself and in others."

"That's just the nature of being alive," Qrow said. He lifted a hand to gently place it on her shoulder, and she had to resist the urge to shake it off. He was attempting to be kind. Fortunately, the contact didn't last long, and he let his hand fall away. "You say you've been angry and afraid and all that, but I gotta ask: Have you ever been happy?"

"Yes." The word came out before she'd even had time to consider the question. Perhaps it was the familiarity of the gesture or that the moment stood prominently among the last three weeks, but she immediately recalled the feeling of Oliver's hand on her shoulder, his words of encouragement and affirmations. It may have been, however, that she simply didn't have many truly emotional moments to recall. "Once."

Qrow's aura seemed to sag, expressing his disappointment in her answer. He took a deep breath and his aura swelled back, but not nearly as warmly. "I guess once is better than never, right?" Aspen didn't have an answer for him, not even fully understanding his concern with her emotions. Her lack of response didn't seem to bother the man, though. " 'Sides, that's what life's about: the balance of good and bad… even when it seems like there's a lot more bad than good."

Aspen frowned. Qrow's voice sounded distant now, as if he were no longer speaking to her. She considered asking him what was wrong, but a pair of familiar auras settled on her and drew her attention. Scorched powder… Living wood rotting from the inside out… Laurel and Oliver. Aspen looked up to where Qrow was leading her. She had seen the massive structure before—it seemed to her impossible not to see it—and it gave her a sense of imbalance every time she looked up at it. This was where… Good Witch's office was, Qrow had said, and also where Laurel and Oliver were.

A sense of anxiety welled up inside Aspen, like thousands of tiny bubbles all bursting at once, again and again. She clenched her fists before giving in to the urge to hurry toward the auras. "H-hey, wait!" Qrow called out. She felt him following after her, but she didn't care to stop for him. This was more… urgent.

Aspen saw them the moment she entered the building. They stood outside a door to her left, speaking to one another in hushed tones. Anxiety and worry radiated from them in equal measure and—

They turned toward her and she froze. The last time she had seen either of them had been after she'd slaughtered the White Fang faunus. What would they think of her now? And why was that so important to her?

Oliver was running over to her before she could think about it further. "Aspen!" He looked tired and disheveled, but his eyes seemed luminous. Relief now poured off his aura. Relief, and… happiness. He was happy to see her? Why would he— "Oh, thank gods," he said, wrapping his arms around her.

Aspen stiffened in his hold, finding her face pressed into her shoulder. He smelled of sand and gunpowder and salt, but she found it… not unpleasant. She relaxed, noting the warmth growing inside herself. Cautiously, she lifted her arms behind his back and returned the embrace. She looked to Laurel walking toward them. "Am I… doing this right?"

Laurel didn't answer, only looking down with her mouth curled into a small smile. Oliver, however, laughed, drawing the warmth inside Aspen out even further with the vibrations. "Yeah, you've got it." He stepped away, and Aspen reluctantly let her arms fall to her sides. His hands remained on her shoulders, however, and his aura turned back to worry. "Are you alright?" he asked, looking her over. Anger. "I know what those soldiers did to you."

Aspen tensed, Oliver's aura burning against her skin like a torch. "I am fine," she said, shifting her weight to loosen his grip without outright shaking him off. "They didn't do anything to me that I couldn't heal from."

Rather than soothe Oliver's anger as Aspen hoped, her words only turned his anger into a bonfire. "That doesn't give them the right to hurt you. That doesn't give anyone the right to hurt anyone! Those bastards should have been court martialed, not demoted and shuffled off to—"

Aspen flinched away, her breath burning in her lungs. She'd never felt Oliver this angry before. She couldn't remember him ever getting angry. Darkness crept into the edges of her vision, and she balled her hands into fists, finding her fingers slick with someone else's blood. For a moment, she thought she saw a crimson-stained blade in her fist before the darkness and fire pulled her in even tighter. Please, not again. I don't want to do this again. Not to them.

Something settled against Aspen's cheek, impossibly cool and warm at the same time. Instinctively, she pressed against it, and the fire consuming her vanished. The darkness and visions, too, were dispelled, leaving Aspen looking into Laurel's face. The woman's mouth twitched hesitantly before she spoke. "Aspen, you're not fine, are you?"

Laurel's fingers brushed a few strands of loose hair over Aspen's ear, and the girl closed her eyes. She felt like she was being torn apart, pain and comfort and warmth and cold all at once inside her. Couldn't they go back to just being happy? That was only a few moments ago, and yet it suddenly felt so far away. "I am fine."

"No, you aren't." Laurel sighed and shifted her thumb over Aspen's cheekbone. "There's more to being hurt than just physical damage. Sometimes… Sometimes people hurt us in ways that change the way we think. About ourselves and the world around us." Laurel pulled her hand away, leaving Aspen feeling even colder somehow. She opened her eyes, only for Laurel to take her hands in hers. "I don't know if that makes sense to you, but if you ever want to talk about it…" Reluctance tinged her aura but was quickly pushed back. "You can talk to either one of us."

Aspen stared at her own hands held in Laurel's. The woman's skin no longer felt as cool, but her aura exuded a warmth that Aspen longed to cling to for as long as she could. She didn't deserve it. "Before you brought me to Vale, you said that there was something wrong with me." Confusion crept into Laurel's aura, wrapping itself up onto Aspen's arms. She pulled away. "I did not realize it until now, but you were right. The faunus I killed… I tore them apart, and I did it because I wanted to. I needed to. It's in my blood and I… I don't understand how you can stand here and be worried for me. I don't deserve it. I'm a monst—"

Oliver collided with Aspen, which would have caused her to stagger back had he not wrapped his arms around her and rooted her in place. "You are not a monster. Don't you ever say that, understand?" His aura burned with anger, but it didn't hurt. Instead, something separated her from the pain, insulated her from the contact. It formed over the surface of her skin like… molasses, and numbed her skin to the pain of his emotions. "I told you before not to let anyone tell you that you aren't good enough, even yourself, so don'tthink for a second that you don't deserve our concern."

Moisture stung at Aspen's eyes, though she wasn't sure of the cause. "I don't understand… Even after all the people I've hurt… what I am…"

Laurel stepped forward, awkwardly slipping an arm around Aspen to join the hug. "What you are is human, and humans make mistakes. So do faunus, for that matter. Sometimes we make the same mistakes over and over. That's okay, so long as we learn and we make ourselves better." Laurel pulled away to look Aspen in the eyes. Her hand remained on her shoulder, though, with the same thickness Oliver's aura had. "You focus on making yourself better… and we'll focus on being better for you."

All heat seemed to drain from Aspen's body, and the moisture in her eyes—tears—rolled down her cheeks. Human. They still thought she was human. If they didn't know what she truly was, how could they possibly know not to trust her? And what would happen if they found out? Everyone else who knew—Ozpin, the Atlesian military, even Deirean—had either tried to take advantage of her or treated her like an animal. She couldn't bear the thought of Oliver and Laurel turning on her like that. They can't know. I can't let them find out.

Oliver released Aspen from his embrace, and the numbness faded enough for her to feel feathers brush against her skin. She turned to see Qrow now standing a few feet away from them. "I hate to interrupt this very emotional reunion, but I'm supposed to get Aspen to a meeting with Good Witch."

Oliver hung his head and sighed. "Yeah, alright. Just…" He placed a hand on Aspen's shoulder, stopping her from immediately following Qrow as she tried. "Look, Aspen. They're going to make you an offer and…" Indecision and doubt warped his aura, but they settled when Laurel placed a hand on his back. "I don't want you to take it because you feel like you don't have a choice. I want you to think about what they're asking you to give up, and whether or not it's worth it." He took a long breath. "Whatever you choose, we'll support you."

Aspen dipped her head, the numbness coming over her again. It was strangely comforting to not have to feel aura, though it made it difficult for her to understand Oliver's intentions. Was he trying to push her toward making a specific decision? He clearly knew what he options were, even if she didn't. She wondered if one would be death, like the other deals Ozpin had given her. It wouldn't surprise her, but was Oliver worried she might actually choose the other alternative? Despite everything, she had no intention of giving so much so easily.

Oliver dropped his hand away, letting out a short sigh. Aspen pursed her lips. She should say something. Acknowledge his statement somehow, at the very least. She didn't, and instead turned to follow Qrow, pinpricks of shame pushing through her skin from without and within.

"How you holding up?" Qrow asked when they reached a door on the far end of the chamber. "Seemed like things were going a little sideways there."

It took Aspen a moment to realize that he was asking about her mental state. Lacking the ability to make herself feel better, she wanted to continue in silence. After all, how could she justify answering Qrow and not Oliver? Oliver—and Laurel, as well—were immensely important to Aspen, in a way that she couldn't understand. They worried over her in a way that made her feel desperate to be worried over. Qrow, however, she barely knew. And yet, he somehow left her with the impression that he actually understood what it was like to be a rephaite and sympathized with her.

"Are you Rephaim?"

"Eh?!" Qrow stumbled, his feet catching on one another, and he barely managed to catch himself on the doorframe. The numbness on Aspen's skin had receded some, but she still had difficulty determining whether it was shock or simple confusion she felt in his aura. He turned to look at her with a furrowed brow; confusion, then. "No, I'm not. I'm Human. Why do you ask?"

Aspen frowned, now truly having no answer to give. She looked back at Oliver and Laurel, once again talking quietly to one another while casting nervous glances toward her, and her mind returned to her earlier conversation with Qrow. "Twice."

"I'm sorry?"

Turning forward again, Aspen stepped past him through the door. "I have been happy twice now."

Qrow's aura ruffled as he closed the door behind them. "Good. That's… That's good. I'm glad for you. It's important to have people in your life who love you."

Love. Love. That was a new concept. Love. Aspen tried it against the numbness she'd felt and found it fit. Love. Oliver and Laurel loved her… and she loved them. That love… She didn't want to lose it. She wouldn't know what to do without it. "Yes," Aspen said quietly. "I believe you are right."

Qrow did not lead her much further, though she no longer needed his direction. There was only one other aura nearby, a texture of dew on pollen. She'd been aware of it since she'd entered the building looking for Oliver and Laurel, if only for the deep anxiety that bit at her like thousands of tiny mouths. She could only assume that this was the "Good Witch" Qrow had mentioned.

The man paused in front of a door and knocked. Behind it, the aura shifted. "Enter," a woman's voice called out. Pushing the door open, Qrow stepped aside, making it clear that he wouldn't be joining this meeting. That was fine by Aspen; fewer distractions meant she could focus on whatever offer she was being given.

The room she stepped into was not large, smaller even than the main room of Laurel's apartment back in Vacuo. There were few furnishings—a desk, a few chairs, and a nearly empty shelf of books in the corner—and the only lighting came from a ceiling fixture that buzzed quietly. Aspen smelled faint traces of burnt wood coming from somewhere in the room, though the only trace of fire she saw was the scorched edge of a block of wood sitting on the desk. Affixed to the wood was a metal plate engraved with the words Glynda Goodwitch. Aspen assumed that was the name of the woman who stood on the other side of the desk.

"Miss Gray, I'm glad you can join me." The woman didn't feel glad, nor did she look it. If anything, she seemed tense, like a bowstring drawn back and ready to fire. She leaned heavily atop the desk, muscles rigid beneath her white top and high-waisted skirt. Despite her revealing attire, however, Aspen could sense the power of the woman's aura and even picked up on the faint glow around the edges of her black and purple cape. "We haven't had the opportunity to meet. My name—"

"Aspen. Not Miss." Why did people still get that wrong?

The woman paused, her eyes briefly losing focus before she sighed. "I was warned…" she muttered. "Aspen. My name is Glynda Goodwitch. I'm the Acting Head Mistress for Beacon Academy. Please, have a seat."

Aspen frowned but did as was asked of her. The chair was little more than a wooden frame with a thin cushion to sit on, but she found it sufficient. It was, at least, more comfortable than anything she had been provided in the last week.

Glynda also sat, easing herself into the chair on the opposite side of the desk. She took a long breath before speaking. "Are you familiar with the ruling structure in Vale?" Aspen shook her head. She knew very little about the city—Kingdom?—at all. "I won't waste time on the minutiae, but suffice it to say that the Kingdom is led by a ruling council. This council makes many of the important decisions that affect everyday life. While Beacon is allowed to operate largely without oversight, we still have to report to them on matters of national security. Unfortunately, in light of the information you've provided and the events of the last few weeks, you—and the Rephaim as a whole—have to be considered just that. The Council, understandably, doesn't want you running about freely. Frankly, neither do I."

The woman sighed, and Aspen felt momentary grief in her aura. "However…Ozpin trusted you. Qrow trusts you. Even James said we need to trust you. So, I've spoken to the Council on your behalf and was given permission to offer you a deal. From what we've been able to piece together, the attack on Beacon was orchestrated by a woman named Cinder Fall."

Aspen nodded. "I know her. She tried to promise me power."

Glynda paused at that. "I see. And I assume you turned her down?"

"Yes."

She nodded. "In any event, Deirean killed her before she could complete whatever scheme she had. Given that he does not possess your restraint, the Council wants him loose even less than you, but he has proven… difficult to apprehend."

Furrowing her brow, Aspen cocked her head. "Are you asking me to find him? I would not know where to look."

Glynda shook her head. "We would like to avoid more bloodshed if possible, and so we were hoping to take a more indirect route. You say that aura has a texture to it; are you familiar with any associates of Cinder's with an aura that feels like wax?"

Wax. Wax… "No, I—" Waxy. Cactus. "Maybe. A girl named Emerald. She was with Cinder when she tried to recruit me. There was a boy, too. Mercury."

"Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black," Glynda muttered under her breath. "That's convenient." Opening a drawer in the desk, she pulled out a metal bracer-like object and placed it between them. "This is a shock cuff, designed to control more dangerous prisoners. It monitors the location of the wearer and, should they go beyond a predesignated area, delivers an electric shock to incapacitate them. Additionally, it can also be activated manually by remote should the need arise.

"My offer is this: Help us apprehend Emerald and Mercury, and avoid imprisonment. You will wear the cuff at all times until the Council decides you can be trusted, and all missions until then will come directly from me. Oliver and Laurel will continue to supervise you as before and will be provided with remotes for your cuff. Do you have any questions?"

So this was the offer Oliver spoke of: hunt for this Council, or return to being a prisoner. No, Aspen wanted to hunt, but these people wanted to use her. She would be free, but only so far as they allowed. It was freedom without freedom. And what of Oliver and Laurel? If she chose to accept the offer, they would be forced to monitor her, to make the decision of whether to activate her cuff. If Glynda and the Council were confident enough to use it on her, Aspen was certain that it would be capable of killing her, not just rendering her unconscious. Of course, they probably assumed she would not stay dead.

"You want to control me," Aspen said, staring at the cuff on the desk. "You want to tie me down like an animal to be released for the hunt."

"No one is calling you an animal—"

Aspen's eyes flicked up to the woman's. "You should. It's the truth." She was Rephaim, and so were the Grimm. It was an easy connection to make.

Glynda stared at Aspen, her aura bristling with irritation, surprise, and sympathy. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Consider the cuff as the price of your freedom. Students at Beacon are expected to partake in missions throughout their time here, and any assignments I give you and your team will be counted as credit. On that matter, I will also expect you to put effort into learning about Mankind if you wish to remain among us."

Another stipulation, although not one Aspen took issue with. It was a small cost for the opportunity to hunt again, and above almost everything she wanted to hunt again. Imprisonment wouldn't give her that option. That did not, however, preclude her from desiring something in return. "I want my armor."

Brow furrowed, Glynda lifted several of the papers from her desk. "Any personal effects recovered from the dormitories would have been logged and returned to their respective owners, although yours should have been held until your release." She flicked through the documents, eyes scanning over the paper. Her aura clung to Aspen, fatigued and annoyed, when she stopped. "Ah, yes. Your Grimm-plate armor. It seems it was mis-catalogued and has already been sent to your team's temporary residence in Vale." She sighed through clenched teeth and set the papers back down, the edge now crinkled up from her grip. "I will have the rest of your effects sent after you've left."

Nodding, Aspen stood and extended her right arm toward Glynda. She stood as well, relief soothing her burning irritation. "Roll up your sleeve, please." Aspen obeyed, the fabric of her hoodie bunching up over her elbow, allowing Glynda to fit the cuff over her arm. "Qrow will escort you, Miss Taw—ah, Laurel and Oliver back to the hotel your team is staying at," the woman said, fastening three self-locking mechanisms along the cuff's length. After a cursory inspection, Aspen concluded they would not be difficult to break open—not that she had any intention of doing so. "From there, Laurel and Oliver will provide you and your team with the full brief on your mission."

Aspen listened in silence, focused more on getting a closer inspection of her cuff. The metal against her skin was cool and smooth, though she could feel a few points near her wrist and elbow that dug in further. While the outer surface bore no notable features, whatever technology allowed the cuff to serve its purpose vibrated softly between the layers. She rotated her arm, finding that it did little to impede her movement. The profile was also low enough that she was able to roll her sleeve back down over it with little difficulty.

Glynda lifted her own arm to gesture for the door, and Aspen turned to reach for it. She stopped and looked back. Something had felt… off about this meeting, and she had only just realized what it was. "Where is Ozpin?" He had met with her every time there was a matter to resolve, but now it was this Glynda woman who claimed to be "Acting Head Mistress," where Ozpin had said he was the "Head Master." They may not have been connected, but she couldn't be sure.

Glynda hesitated, grief again rising up in her aura. "Ozpin is… no longer here. He was killed during the attack on Beacon."

Aspen pursed her lips. "I see." She thought she could understand the woman's reaction, but Aspen felt nothing for the loss. Ozpin had threatened her life, coerced her into serving his own purposes. Nothing was any different without him. Turning, Aspen opened the door and left.