Chapter 54 - Honest Hearts


Jaune sighed, as he easily ducked beneath his shield, blocking the hail of bullets that came rushing his way.

What could possibly go wrong, indeed.

When he'd first arrived in Zion, half a day ago, he'd been immediately greeted by the sight of a destroyed caravan (which he'd assumed was the caravan he'd been following), as well as a party of aggressive men and women with dreadlocks, who were painted white from head to toe, and had immediately rushed at him with submachine guns and axes as soon as they'd spotted him.

He'd easily dispatched the White Leg raiding party (or at least, what he assumed had been a White Leg raiding party. It would have been a bit embarrassing if those turned out to be the New Canaanites...) but, as he'd ventured deeper into the park, he'd just kept running into more and more of them.

Even worse, Pyrrha hadn't been kidding when she'd said that Zion was too big.

According to his map, he wasn't even a tenth of a way through the Park, and he still had no idea where the hell the New Canaanites were.

For all he knew, the New Canaanites could've already been wiped out, in the ten days he'd taken to get to Zion.

And speaking of Pyrrha...

Jaune spared a glance for the radio beacon on his waist, before breathing a sigh of relief, at the lack of blinking lights on it.

Then again, seeing how she'd been acting, he doubted she'd have activated it, even if she had run into something.

Jaune sighed again, as two more submachine guns opened up on his shield.

He really hadn't wanted to let her go, but he wasn't this Pyrrha's team leader. He'd simply had to trust her, when she'd said that she needed to know.

His Aura nudged him, and he twisted just as a White Leg jumped out of a nearby tree, swinging an axe at where his head had been.

As the axe head buried itself into the ground, Jaune swiftly lashed out with his sword, chopping the axe in half, before focusing his Aura as he spun and delivered an amateurish but powerful kick into the White Leg's side, sending him flying into the three gunners who'd been firing at him.

The three attempted to scatter, though one wasn't fast enough.

It was still more than enough, and Jaune pulled out his pistol, and took careful aim with one hand, before gently squeezing the trigger four times.

Even though he'd had a fair bit of practice with the 5.56mm pistol by now (far more than he'd ever had with Ruby's 10mm pistol), he still couldn't help but wince at the recoil, and wonder how Pyrrha managed to pull it off without Aura reinforcing her wrists.

The cut-down hunting rifle really was designed for two hands...

As the four White Legs lay bleeding out, Jaune took a moment to swing the chamber open, before ejecting the spent shell-casings and reloading.

Sure, he could have easily handled the situation with just his sword... but he didn't know how many White Legs were in Zion.

And he was still no closer to finding the New Canaanites...

Jaune let loose a third sigh, pointedly refusing to look at the people he'd just killed, as he forced his mind off of them. Enclave were easier, so much easier; they were tougher, but at least he couldn't see their faces, behind the power armor...

Instead, he pulled out the map House had given him, and took a moment to study it, before looking up.

Yup, he could see a wooden tower at the top of a nearby hill, which he assumed was "Ranger Substation Peregrine".

Jaune took a moment to think it over.

If it belonged to the park's original authorities... it might have supplies, such as food, water, or ammunition, as well as a map of the region.

Moreover, with the high group, he could look for traces of human habitation more easily, such as smoke or light.

And even if it didn't work out... well, he still had ten days to look for either signs of the New Canaanites, or definitive proof that they were gone, before he had to head back to the Mojave...

His instincts screamed at him once again, and he quickly spun around and raised his shield, as bullets sprayed in his general direction from a nearby ridge.

He couldn't help but click his tongue; he'd gotten too used to having someone watching his back...

Suddenly, he heard a loud and wet thumping noise, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, as the gunfire suddenly stopped.

Peering over his shield, gun in his other hand, he saw someone standing over the White Leg gunner, a bloodied club in hand.

Unlike the White Leg, though, his body was not painted white, but rather covered in a few black markings.

"Hoi! White Legs don't leave survivors often." The other man said, in an astonished tone, as Jaune mentally relaxed a fraction. By the sounds of things (such as the sound of his voice), he probably wasn't a White Leg himself. "You're some kind of lucky, let me tell you."

"Yup... I saw the caravan wreckage, on my way in." Jaune agreed, as he took a chance and holstered his pistol, before picking his sword back up.

"You came from outside?" The other man asked, eyes widening. "From the civilized lands? Wow... Joshua will want to hear about this."

"The... civilized lands?" Jaune raised an eyebrow.

"I mean the Lands Beyond The Valley- the places where the cities never fell." The other man elaborated. "Where people don't live in tribes and forage just to survive. Joshua keeps saying it isn't paradise out there, but how can it not be, compared to this? ... sorry, I'm getting distracted - Joshua will want to know about you - please, go to our camp on the Eastern Virgin. Tell him how you came to be here."

"All right, sure. Lead the way." Jaune agreed, deciding that, while following random strangers was generally frowned upon, when given a choice between random strangers who had fired at him with submachine guns, and random strangers who didn't...

"Goot sists." The other man nodded, waving him forward. "Down this path to the north. Hope you don't mind getting wet."

Jaune had no idea what that first part meant, but he understand the second part. "By the way... who's this "Joshua", that you keep mentioning?"

"Joshua Graham - he leads our tribe." The other man answered, as he began leading Jaune downhill, before enthusiastically adding: "Thanks to him, the Dead Horses are strong, and safe from our enemies. He's been the chief of our tribe since he came back to the Valley. He went off to the civilized world years ago, to fight a war. That didn't go well."

"What happened to him?" Jaune couldn't help but ask, as they followed the winding river through a canyon.

"You see his face, you'll understand." The tribal simply said, before he pointed out some hidden bear traps. "Nearly there now. Watch out for traps in the water. Got to keep the White Legs out somehow, neh?"

"Indeed..." Jaune nodded in understanding, though he found the lack of sentries unsettling. Then, the narrow path opened up, revealing a small camp, hidden in the canyon.

"Here we are." The tribal announced. "Joshua's just ahead there, in the Angel Cave."

"Thanks, uh... what do I call you?" Jaune realized he'd never gotten the man's name.

"I'm called Follows-Chalk." The tribal introduced himself.

"... is there a meaning behind the name?" Jaune couldn't help his curiosity.

"Our advance scouts leave chalk signs to mark places rich with game. I'm not a full scout yet, so I follow the marks and guide the hunters." Follows-Chalk chuckled. "We can talk more about that later, though - it's not smart to keep Joshua waiting."

Jaune got the message, and went towards the indicated cave.

As he entered the cave, he found a large chamber, with what he could only describe as a bandaged mummy maintaining a veritable mountain of pistols.

Even Courier Six hadn't carried that many pistols.

As Jaune gawked at the sheer number of guns on the table (how did such a rickety-looking wooden table support all of those?!), the bandaged mummy turned to him, and continued racking the slides of his pistols as he rasped: "We should have given you a better welcome on your first visit to Zion, but from what I hear, the White Legs beat us to it. White Legs seem to be the only visitors we have these days, and I wouldn't have expected anyone from the Mojave to come looking for us. And, based on what I've heard, you've had a fair bit more luck than the last group to enter Zion. I pray for the safety of all good people who come to Zion, even Gentiles, but we can't expect God to do all the work."

"I take it that you're Joshua?" Jaune asked, studying the man. He could just barely spot the skin around the eyes, the only exposed part of the man, but from what he could tell...

"I am." Joshua nodded in acknowledgement. "And what brings a Gentile to Zion?"

"I was asked to find any surviving New Canaanites, and help them with the White Legs." Jaune answered.

"I see." Joshua rasped. "God must have sent you to us, then."

Jaune blinked. "Wait, you're a New Canaanite? I thought you were leading the Dead Horses?"

"I am." Jaune could see Joshua smiling gently. "I am the acting war chief for the Dead Horses, and they look up to me for such matters, but I am still a New Canaanite, even though I fell, and strayed badly from the path of righteousness at times."

"... do you want to talk about it?" Jaune offered.

"It's not something I enjoy, but I pray to God that someone may learn from my mistakes. And He knows, I've made many of them." Joshua allowed, not unkindly. "Would you like me to start from the beginning?"

"I wouldn't mind that." Jaune said, as he lowered himself down onto the floor, and made himself comfortable.

"I was born in Ogden, what people came to call New Canaan. Things were more peaceful when I was growing up. When I was a young man, I went out into the world to do missionary work as all New Canaanites do. I traveled along the Long 15 and followed 89 south into Arizona. Along the way, I met two men from a group called the Followers of the Apocalypse. Edward Sallow and Bill Calhoun. They came to teach the tribes. Calhoun was a good man. Edward was the one who got us into trouble down the road"

"What did he do?"

"He was a smart man. Young, but we all were. We thought we could hike into the Grand Canyon and talk to Blackfoots. We did, and the Blackfoots were friendly enough at first, but eventually... I've thought back to that day so many times. I must have mistranslated. Something must have been mixed up, because the Blackfoots decided we weren't going to leave. The rest is history, assuming Edward hasn't changed it."

"What happened?" Jaune pressed, leaning forward.

"You don't know what became of the Blackfoots?" Joshua blinked.

Jaune just shook his head.

"They became the core of Caesar's Legion, and Edward became Caesar." Joshua closed his eyes, unable to forget what he'd done in those days. "And I... became Caesar's first Legate."

"You were Caesar's Legate?!" Jaune yelped, studying the man. He'd only ever heard of the Legion as a band of savage slavers... a far cry from the bandaged man in front of him. Then he remembered what Follows-Chalk had said, about how Joshua led their tribe... "How?"

Joshua sighed. "This way lies the path to hell. Edw- Caesar needed me to translate. Translation became giving orders. Giving orders became leading in battle. Leading in battle became training, punishing, terrorizing. A series of small mistakes before a great fall. And I stayed in that darkness until after Hoover Dam. After I failed Caesar and he had me burned alive, thrown into the Grand Canyon."

Jaune took a moment and studied Joshua more closely. Indeed, the exposed flesh looked like it had been burned raw, and never properly healed. "Oum... how did you survive that?"

Joshua grimaced. "I survived because the fire inside burned brighter than the fire around me. I fell down into that dark chasm, but the flame burned on and on. The next morning, I woke up and crawled out of the northern edge of the Grand Canyon, that cursed place. It took me three months to reach New Canaan. It was as though the prodigal son had returned. They welcomed me like I had never left, never done anything to shame them."

"... that's what family does, isn't it..." Jaune mused with a sad smile, thinking back to his family. Even if he'd disappointed them by running away from home and stealing the family sword... he didn't doubt that, if he'd returned... well, his mom and older sisters would definitely rip him a new one, but they'd forgive him. Eventually.

Oum, he really wished he could see them one more time, just to say sorry...

"The fire that had kept me alive was love. Their love. God's love." Joshua continued, a similar expression on his face. "When the walls come tumbling down, when you lose everything you have, you always have family. I will never be able to repay the debt I owe to them, but I must try."

"... do you really believe it's possible?" Jaune involuntarily wondered. Oum, just how much had he done since he'd run away? How many lives had he had to take, during his adventures, as he'd tried (and failed) to be a hero? He didn't know if he could face them, with all the blood on his hands, even if he knew they'd understand. He didn't know if he could bear the shame of disappointing them...

"I know it may be hard for you to accept, but in my heart, I believe that though I am a sinner, I have been saved." Joshua rasped with conviction. "In a world filled with misery and uncertainty, it is a great comfort to know that, in the end, there is light in the darkness. Every day, we move closer to our judgment. We must do our best to walk in the footsteps of our Lord and teach others how to do the same. For many of us, the road is a difficult one, and some days are... harder than others. But the path is always there for us to follow, no matter how many times we may fall."

Jaune could only nod, his throat suddenly feeling too tight for words.

Before Joshua could continue his sermon, however, another man burst into the chamber excitedly, saying: "I've managed to find the Pre-War supplies, Joshua!"

"Daniel." Joshua nodded at the newcomer, as Jaune turned to see a man in a hat like Paulson's. "We have a visitor, from the Mojave."

"The Mojave?" Daniel blinked, looking at Jaune. "Are you a survivor of the caravan attack?"

"No... I came in after them." Jaune admitted.

"Well, it's always nice to meet a friendly face." Daniel offered his hand. "I'm Daniel."

"Jaune." Jaune grabbed it. "And my mother always said, strangers are just friends you haven't met yet."

"Sounds like a wise woman." Daniel smiled, before turning his attention back to Joshua. "Anyway, we can start making preparations to evacuate the Sorrows from the valley."

"Daniel..." Joshua just sighed. "I'm telling you, we shouldn't cede Zion to the White Legs."

"And I've already told you, Joshua." Daniel sighed back in exasperation, ignoring the Gentile's presence. "We can't force the Sorrows into this. This is our problem, not theirs!"

"This is the Sorrows' home, Daniel." Joshua rasped. "Zion, God's gift to them. And God often speaks loudest in the wild places of his creation. Zion is a place, and a state of being, that has been lost to us several times in the past. Each loss is a new fall of man. And after each fall, we weep in strange new lands and dream of Zion, dream of visiting vengeance upon those who took it from us. But this is the waking world in which we live. There is no need to cry, no need to dream. We can act now and stop the White Legs here."

"Throughout our history, we have called many places Zion." Daniel retorted tiredly, as though they'd had this conversation many times. "This valley is full of God's beauty, but it's just a place. Zion is more than this. We cannot use any and all means available just to protect stone and water and a piece of sky. We have to hold on to our faith. Far more enduring. If we sacrifice grace for a piece of land, we may live in this valley, but we will no longer dwell in Zion. It's better for us to leave now."

"When our Lord entered the temple and found it polluted by money-changers and beasts, did he ask them to leave? Did he cry? Did he simply walk away?" Joshua asked rhetorically.

"I've already explained to them that we're leaving." Daniel answered firmly, crossing his arms, but his voice became more passionate as he continued: "What are you going to tell them about how to live with themselves after they got lost in the moment, killed someone who didn't deserve to die? Or does that not matter? Is that just an acceptable consequence if it means holding on to this valley?"

Joshua got up, but a noise got their attention, and they turned, realizing the boy still standing in the room, watching them with an awkward expression on his face.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, wastelander." Daniel coughed in embarrassment. "By the way... what brings you to the valley?"

"Apparently someone sent him to help us with the White Legs." Joshua rasped drily, before quietly adding: "Maybe he can help convince you..."

"You're both New Canaanites, right?" Jaune asked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"We are, yes." Daniel nodded.

"So... why are you speaking for these... Sorrows?" Jaune couldn't help but point out, finding the pair sounding like his parents arguing about what was best for their children... without consulting them as well.

"Daniel is the spiritual leader and main link of the New Canaanites to the Sorrows." Joshua began to explain.

"The Lord helps those who help themselves, but the Sorrows don't know how." Daniel added patiently. "Joshua and I do. Since I got them into this mess, I need to get them out."

"But... have you asked the Sorrows what they want?" Jaune pressed, before feeling like digging a hole and hiding in it as their gazes intensified on him.

The tension in the air thickened, and silence filled the room.

"They don't understand the horrors of war, of killing!" Daniel exclaimed furiously. "We brought the White Legs to them! We made it their problem!"

"And how did you make it their problem?" Jaune asked. "By the sounds of things, the White Legs have always been raiders..."

"The White Legs have always fought with us, it's true." Daniel admitted. "But with Joshua returning, Caesar has motivated the White Legs to stamp out the New Canaanites entirely. That means the tribes we work with, too. It's already hap- I just want to prevent something terrible from happening to the Sorrows."

"Something terrible is already happening to the Sorrows, Daniel." Joshua chided, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth. "How many will die to the White Legs and the elements, during the evacuation?"

"It may have been your problem..." Jaune allowed, cutting in. "But like you said; Zion is their home. If they leave... where will they go? They should get to decide what happens next."

"And what if they decide to stay and fight?" Daniel retorted tiredly.

"Then we help them." Joshua growled.

"You don't just want to fight the White Legs." Daniel accused. "You want to kill their war chief and their entire war band!"

"It is the only way to get those animals to stop." Joshua growled. "You remember what they did at New Canaan!"

"I do, but the Sorrows don't know what they're getting into!" Daniel defended weakly. "They may defend the valley, but after that? They'll regret it. They'll mourn it. They mourn everyone."

"And they should." Jaune said, once again remembering all the people he'd had to kill. "That's a good thing. We should never celebrate taking a life; we kill only out of necessity, to protect people."

That was, after all, why he'd become a Huntsman in the end. To be a hero. To protect people.

He'd never been the best in combat classes, but that was also because he didn't want to hurt other people. He'd only ever signed up to fight the Grimm.

Joshua and Daniel exchanged a look, before sighing.

"I'll gather the Sorrows." Daniel finally declared, willing to listen to the Gentile's advice after seeing he wasn't some simply some bloodthirsty butcher.

"Whatever decision they make, we will aid them." Joshua agreed, before turning to Jaune. "You're a good neighbor to us. We all go through periods of darkness. In such times, we can turn to the Lord, but it's good to have friends."

"Uh, happy to help." Jaune replied sheepishly, cursing his social awkwardness. "And thanks for the story."

"I'll give you a map back to the Mojave after we've helped the Sorrows." Daniel promised.

"I don't need one." Jaune said simply. "I already have a map."

"... how?" Daniel couldn't help but ask. The paths were treacherous and dangerous; only rangers, couriers, and missionaries could be counted on to map out safe routes between states!

"I'm friends with a courier." Jaune shrugged. "We were actually supposed to come here together, but she got called to the Divide by another courier."

"The Divide? Another Courier?" Joshua rasped in shock.

"What's wrong?" Jaune heard the worry in his voice.

"Caesar has many frumentarii and assassins. I should know; he's sent many of them after me." Joshua explained. "I've heard one of them, obsessed with the Divide, travels the Mojave as a courier."

Jaune clenched his fist, as he connected the dots.

He didn't know what an assassin of Caesar wanted with Pyrrha, but he whatever it was... it couldn't have been good.

If only that stubborn dolt had listened when he'd told her it was a trap!

"I have to go." Jaune sprang to his feet, and extended a hand to Joshua. "Thank you for the information."

A surprised Joshua automatically grabbed his hand, preparing to ask if he couldn't find it in him to stay and help the Sorrows.

As Daniel watched, a bright yellow glow suddenly began to surround Jaune, before Joshua was enveloped in a white light.

Jaune, meanwhile, channeled his Aura into the bandaged man, as quickly as he could, thinking that this was the least he could do to repay him.

As Daniel was forced to look away, and Joshua was almost blinded by the light, Jaune released him, and activated the portable teleportation homer in his pocket, bringing him up to the drone-piloted alien scout craft he'd assigned to follow Pyrrha, when she'd first left for the Fort, hoping that Pyrrha was still okay as he did so.

As the light in the cavern faded, and the Dead Horses rushed into the Angel Cave to see what had happened, Daniel slowly opened his eyes, asking: "What just happened? Where'd Jaune go?"

"Daniel..." A voice said, no longer rasping, forcing words through a throat burned raw.

Daniel turned to the source of the voice, and saw Joshua gingerly feeling himself, patting his bandages, before ripping them off frantically.

The Dead Horses gasped, as they beheld their war chief, no longer bandaged, and no longer burned.

"My wounds..." Joshua spoke softly, before weeping in joy. "They have been healed!"

"A miracle..." Daniel murmured in disbelief. "It must be a miracle! None of us could heal it!"

"Where is the boy?" Joshua hissed, looking wildly around the cavern.

"He disappeared, with that flash of light..." Daniel answered automatically, still trying to come to terms with what had happened.

Joshua's mind quickly raced, analyzing his interactions with the boy, and came to a conclusion. "The Lord must have sent one of his angels to us, in our time of need!"


Author's Note: And here we go. Just a short chapter, as we finally move on to the Divide, and the cult of Arc grows. One last chapter for the week.

And this, I feel, is probably one of the biggest reasons why Jaune doesn't ever even consider the possibility that all the stories about heroic deeds of badassery flying around might have something to do with him. He doesn't think he's a hero; he doesn't think he deserves fame or recognition for essentially being a butcher. He knows it was necessary, but never once has he taken any enjoyment from a fight to the death. At most, he finds satisfaction from protecting others from harm.

Or, to quote Tolkein, "I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend."

And that's why, I felt, Jaune needed to be the one to hear Joshua Graham. If even the Malpais Legate truly believes in forgiveness, that his atrocities can be forgiven...

As for why the Honest Hearts section is so short... the White Legs are little more than a speed bump, for Joshua. Against Jaune? It'd be a rat against a dump truck. Not even a swarm of rats, either. Just one. The main focus is not on his battle with the White Legs, it is on his interactions with Joshua and Daniel.

And I truly do understand both Joshua and Daniel, even if I agree more with Joshua's pragmatism. Sometimes, there's fights you just can't run for. At the same time, I see Daniel and the Sorrows like a father and his children. What father, knowing the reality of the world, does not naturally want to shelter his children, to protect them and their innocence? It may not be the wisest thing in the long run, as eventually all children grow up, and without life lessons from facing the harshness of reality...

Even so, what parent does not long to keep their children as innocent for as long as possible, despite the negatives? Sometimes, the hardest thing about parenting is realizing and accepting that your children have grown up, and don't need your protection any more.

Then again, I'm only in my mid 20s, so what do I know?

I do know this, though; in the end, Zion isn't Joshua's home. It isn't Daniel's home. It isn't Jaune's, or even the Dead Horses' home. It's the Sorrows' home, and they're not children. In the end, it should be them who has the final say, in what they do.

And, hey, I finally managed to find a use for that alien ship! Before anyone asks, he got it in Chapter 50, before he met Paulson. He just never bothered using it because... well, he left it following Pyrrha so that he could respond if she sent out a distress signal.

Also, behold. Aura is bullshit. Specifically, Jaune's dragon-enhanced Aura (thanks to Dovah-Yang), coupled with his Semblabce, is utter bullshit.