After Gilded Mile, me and Arnaut fall back into the same old routine, acting as if nothing happened, and yet… things have changed.

I can't see him as a cocky idiot anymore, for one thing. Knowing where he came from and what he sacrificed, as well as how easily he navigated the minefield of the Armstrong conversation, it becomes harder and harder to forget that his personality was a front. A deception designed to manipulate an entire kingdom into feeling safe.

It makes me feel viscerally sick when I realize that I inadvertently did his scumbag family a favor in killing him before he could have Faunus children- ultimately, just one more thing to tuck away and never allow myself to think about.

The lessons in the Way of Wind go smoother now as well. I've lost most (but not all) of my derision for the bombast and grandeur now that I have a better grasp of the underlying reasoning. With that said… "Arnaut, why all the fancy names?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, the point is the movements, right? Why do they all have to have ostentatious titles?"

He tilts his head. "You still don't have much of a grasp for how Huntsmen do things, do you?"

"Right, right, it's to impress the peasants. Of fucking course." How could I forget?

"Well, that and…" Arnaut scratches his head. "Alorn is a philosopher, one of the most respected of his generation."

Unlike his generation, my respect for the man drops several pegs immediately. "And I'm just gonna move on and try to forget that, then. You were saying about Spring Storm?"

"Ah, yes. Spring Storm is significantly more difficult to master than either of the other two stances I've taught you. In fact, Spring Cloud and Spring Rain are-"

I might be a bit more in tune with the style, but my patience is still that of a mortal girl. "For the love of god, can you not say 'Spring' before every other word?"

Arnaut nods. "Very well. The Cloud and Rain stances are the first two taught because they're the simplest stances in the entire Way of Wind. Cloud is just an extremely basic exercise in posture that only requires enough Aura control to bottle up power without releasing it early, and Rain is the least strict stance of all in terms of control. It operates primarily off of the difficulty most weapon types have adapting to a threat beneath them, so speed and aggression are more important than proper technique."

"Can you get to the part where you actually tell me what Storm stance is?"

Arnaut seems to have build up a complete immunity to my attitude. "Certainly. It's quite a bit less mobile than Rain, even less so than Cloud, even. You'll actually want to start with a modified Cloud, in fact, but stand straighter- yes, there it is. Front leg extended out before you, rear leg slightly bent, rear foot perpendicular to the front one. Now square your shoulders, push your chest outwards a bit more… very good."

I can already tell this is going to annoy me. I'm standing in something akin to a fencer's stance, chest puffed out and shoulders back like some ego-inflated Atlesian socialite. "Arnaut, how am I supposed to move like this?"

"This is a slower stance. It's based off of Alorn's encounters with the Schnee Lancers during the Great War, so there's quite a bit more of that posture and technique you seem to love so much." Arnaut stands roughly similar to the way I am, still offering instructions: "This is designed to move directly backwards and forwards more so than horizontally."

"No shit, it's a fencing pose," I grumble. Fencing is one of the sports I had zero desire to watch when I was younger- the two combatants are confined to a straight strip that limits any creativity or mobility, meaning every fight devolves into who has better mastery of the six basic moves. "You mind explaining to me how this is a good idea in any fight where my opponent can sidestep?"

"That's the point," Arnaut explains, the picture of patience. "It's designed to fight less mobile foes, like those in armor or tied down to protecting a specific point. Now, shift your right arm with Aurum held in back across your chest- a little higher- good."

He's got me standing horizontally to the imaginary foe, right shoulder towards them, with my right elbow down by my ribs and my hand holding Aurora's hilt just to the left of my face. I instinctively reach up to aid with my left hand, but stop when Arnaut barks at me.

"No! You aren't to use your off hand in Storm stance."

"And why the hell not?" Truth be told, I might be getting more used to Aurora's weight- my arms have developed a thin cording of muscle that wasn't there before- but the awkwardness of this stance, clearly designed for use with rapiers or estocs, is making my entire arm scream bloody murder. "I can't get any leverage here, my wrist is supporting the entire sword's weight on its own. You can't just copy a fencing pose and expect it to work with a massive fucking claymore- hold on," I abruptly interrupt myself, remembering a question that's been bouncing around in my head for a few days, "I don't even think this qualifies as a claymore, right? The blade's way wider and thicker than a normal claymore blade. Why?"

Arnaut has a special talent for taking my verbal abuse and only responding by getting smugger. "Well, first off, the point is to house the thirty millimeter Dust cannon. A normal sword's only maybe half a centimeter thick, but for Aurora to be able to cut through things cleanly without catching on the cannon barrel, the blade portions would have to be at least a bit over an inch in thickness."

The barrel actually expands to a bit over two inches towards the top of the sword, but any resistance that might give to smooth cutting is offset by the way it curves down into the metal. Unwilling to concede the point, though, I persevere: "Still, no normal sword needs to be ten inches wide."

"You're right," Arnaut replies, but his smirk makes it pretty clear that that's not the case. "Any normal blade would only need to be two or three inches wide, because it's designed to cut through armor and flesh. However, Aurora is a Huntsman weapon, designed for fighting enemies with advanced armor, difficult-to-penetrate bone plating, or even their own Aura reinforcement. You are aware of the simple fact that putting out damage is reliant upon the force inflicted, yes?"

I'd rather not play into his hands, but I don't see any other option. "…Sure."

"Force is equal to mass times acceleration. If we assume that Aura allows Huntsmen to bypass the normal hurdle of weight slowing them down, and accelerate at a high rate regardless of their weapon, then…"

"You increase the weight of the weapon," I sigh in defeat, suddenly remembering how much easier it was to kill Grimm with Aurora, as well as how easily it broke the Aura of the Old Guard kidnappers I fought.

"Yes. In addition, techniques like Warm Front and much of what you'll eventually learn in Summer Style are reliant on both the wide blade as an effective shield and the horizontal mid-blade handle."

Arnaut's tone annoys me enough that I snatch at another complaint in an attempt to knock him down a peg: "But that still doesn't change the fact that this is a shit thrusting weapon. The point's split wide open to make way for the cannon blasts."

"Ah, yes. On that subject, there's a feature to Aurora that I haven't yet taught you use of. Do you see, set within the underside of the hilt, the four buttons?"

I turn Aurora to face directly away from me and see the buttons in question. All three of them are silver against the silver of the inner hilt, set into a half centimeter deep groove in order to prevent being pressed on accident.

"The leftmost one should have what appears to be an 'A' shape, like a triangle but without the bottom line. I want you to press it."

I oblige him and then yelp as Aurora suddenly jolts back in my hand, slamming the bottom of the handle against my cheekbone. Fuck, I hope that doesn't bruise.

I turn it and see the reason: at the previously split-open tip, inset Hardlight Dust projectors have created a warm yellow-gold glowing tip for the blade that fills in the gap. It extends the length of the sword, pushing it from five feet to five feet eight inches- two inches taller than I am.

The projected Hardlight doesn't add any weight, a fact I discover through a few experimental swings.

"Now then, back to the lesson-"

"Hold on, you still didn't explain why I can't use my off hand to help hold the sword."

Arnaut tilts his head. "Firstly, because if you're thrusting in the direction of your right shoulder, keeping your left hand on the hilt will completely cripple your reach. And secondly, because you evidently need to build up wrist muscle, as well as passive Aura amplification."

I cough. "What? I do not have issues with Aura control!"

"I will admit, your use of Aura Strikes and targeted reinforcement is exemplary by civilian standards, but you're lacking in the restraint and passive reinforcement that most Huntsmen students have by the time they graduate primary combat school." He raises a hand to cut off my angry retort. "You expend far too much Aura for mobility and striking power. In your fight against Ace, you ended it with half of your Aura gone despite only receiving a single hit in the entire fight."

He isn't wrong, but I don't like admitting defeat. "It's necessary to avoid hits and actually dish out damage with my attacks."

"You're half right. Your instincts are good, and you use Aura naturally in intelligent ways to augment your combat style, but what I'm referring to is the raw amount of Aura you expend. Your control is incredibly sloppy; you waste most of the Aura used and only put a fraction of it to good use. With proper training, you could output far more force with far less Aura spent.

"Furthermore, you don't use Aura passively enough. Most Huntsmen only spend Aura in emergencies. We tend to rely far more on the inherent, thoughtless general amplification that becomes as natural as breathing with practice. It's a technique that doesn't actually cost any Aura, as you aren't expelling it, just allowing it to enhance your strength and speed."

I blink, forgetting to be annoyed for a moment as I process what Arnaut's telling me: "You mean I can learn to move faster and hit harder without expending even close to as much Aura as I do now?"

"Exactly," Arnaut says, meeting my growing grin with one of his own.

From that point on, I've started mixing in Aura exercises between the swordsmanship lessons. It's actually a welcome break and means that I can do a bit more strength training with the sword, swapping over to the more mental, meditative Aura training when the physical strain becomes too much.

Despite walking along a fairly important road, I rarely encounter other travelers. I chalk it up to people being less inclined to travel after the Fall of Beacon. The initial outward and inward rushes have subsided, and now people are holed up in whatever safe havens they can find.

Winter is just beginning, and with it comes the first snowfalls that turn barren fields into plains of white. I can tell Arnaut is entertained by the snow, something absent in Vacuo, but my own feelings are significantly more mixed.

It brings back thoughts of time spent on the streets of Atlas, fighting with adults and other street rats over the heating vents that offered a safe night's sleep. Failing to claim a spot near one meant a night of shivering until the strength to shiver fled, feeling the snow melt into water and then freeze again in your clothes. It meant a night where you might go to sleep and wake up with a frostbitten finger or toe- or never wake up at all.

Kids who say that the snow is beautiful obviously never had to be in it when they didn't want to.

Thankfully, I don't have much time to consider these things, as the schedule of ardent practice keeps me occupied. Ultimately, all the snow does is blur the landscape into a nondescript white sea, falling to the back of my mind as I press onward. I pass through a few more towns and villages, but none of them are memorable until I reach the next settlement large enough to be considered a city: Hildenshire.

It's a fairly unremarkable place located beside one of the Claws, smaller rivers that trail down from Eastern Vale, feeding into Drake's Run. Far smaller than Gilded Mile, as well as less of a trading hub due to it only sitting along the route down towards Southern Vale and not branching out anywhere, it's noteworthy for one main reason: It sits directly on the border between South Syndicate and Central Syndicate territory.

The Syndicate was established only around twenty or so years ago, by Armstrong, Cairn, and a third partner that Roman has never named. With the Faunus Rights Revolution just coming to a close, Vale's resources were extremely strained both from the costs of the war and in attempting to enforce the new equal rights measures. With a distracted government and a destabilized social power structure, two men- Armstrong and Cairn- each seized their opportunity and conquered their region of Vale.

Cairn simply crushed his strongest opposition in the space of days, and the rest bent the knee to him nearly immediately.

Armstrong's campaign was a much bloodier, more thorough affair- anyone who didn't immediately join him was violently purged. It took him months to eradicate all dissent, which he managed under the guise of a humanitarian 'cleaning up the South' plan using the Armstrong finances. When the work was done, every pickpocket, mercenary, assassin, and smuggler south of the Claws belonged to him.

With each of their goals finished, the two titans turned their eyes to the central strip of Vale, and the capital. It was then that the third, unnamed figure stepped in and somehow convinced both of them to agree on sharing, leading to the drawing up of boundaries and the establishment of the current Syndicate system.

It's always gnawed at me how the unnamed original Central Overboss convinced men like Armstrong and Cairn- men who would slaughter indiscriminately for power- to lay down their weapons and rest upon their laurels. Roman adamantly refuses to answer any questions about them, so all I know is that six years ago they stepped down and named Roman as their successor.

Question for another time, I guess. I've passed through enough boonie towns to have my ritual down pat by this point, sheathing Aurora, wrapping my tail up around my waist, and throwing on my hood. I've also passed through enough towns to spot this one's tavern from a mile away and cut a direct path towards it.

As much as I may not be a fan of civilization, it's the only place you can get a decent meal.

Once again, the place is almost completely full. What is it with every single one of these taverns? If I had to guess, I'd say it's probably the excess of people who've fled Vale for the outer portions of the kingdom. Most of the towns I've passed through have had more people in them than they should.

Thankfully, the one open table this time is nestled into the back corner. I've always felt safer, more at ease, with my back to a wall and everyone else in front of me. Unfortunately, I am sitting in a booth designed for a large party of people all by myself- not that I care about looking like an asshole, but it does mean that the waiter assumes I'm waiting for some other friends that don't exist.

It takes me ten minutes to catch the incompetent guy's eye, and he even has the nerve to give me the sideye when I order three strip steaks.

"You should eat healthier," Arnaut comments.

"I somehow doubt that cholesterol is gonna be what does me in, Arnaut." I lean back and roll my shoulders, grateful for the opportunity to rest. Even when the door opens and four obvious Huntsmen walk in, I don't give it a second thought.

"What do you think it will be that 'does you in', then?"

I roll my eyes. "Way to kill the mood."

"No, I'm genuinely curious. How do you see your life in the future?"

I shrug. "I don't."

Arnaut tilts his head curiously towards me. "You have no aspirations outside of serving Roman Torchwick? No dreams of your own?"

There is one thing… was one thing, but I've long since accepted that it won't happen. "Look, I thought I already went over this with you. If I get too wound up in any cause, I'm risking my Semblance going off when it fails. If I worry too much about the future, if I consider myself or anyone else dying, I'm risking my Semblance going off from the fear."

"So you really do just act as a mindless drone of Torchwick's then," Arnaut says, with a touch of disappointment that hits harder than I thought it would.

Regardless, I can't afford to show it, so I plaster on a smirk: "No, I'm a heartless drone."

Arnaut doesn't even crack a smile, and despite my best efforts not to, I feel another pang of sadness at disappointing him. What the hell is going on with me? I don't need the approval of some dead Huntsman-

My thought process is interrupted by one of the newcomer Huntsmen dropping a hand down onto the table to catch my attention: "Hey, you mind sharing the table?" I look up to see he's surprisingly young, eighteen or nineteen, with short-cut blonde hair and eyes so squinted that I can't tell what color they're meant to be.

I just blink at him, still slightly distracted by my revelation on Arnaut.

He tilts his head and smiles endearingly: "There's, uh… nowhere else to sit."

"…Fine," I manage, moving Aurora from the tabletop to lean back against the booth to my right. With any luck, I should just be able to ignore him, right?

Unfortunately, I made a grievous tactical error in forgetting that he entered with three other Huntsmen, and it bites me squarely in the ass when two of them slide in on either side of me, effectively trapping me. Fuck.

"See, Cardin? Told you it'd be fine," the blondie says to a fucking tank of a boy sitting directly to my right. 'Cardin' is six and a half feet tall despite being the same age as Blondie, covered in obviously expensive quality armor, with darkish orange hair and cold, dismissive indigo eyes. Maybe it's only because the incident is fresh in my memory, but he reminds me of Armstrong, and not in a good way.

When he speaks, it's in a deep voice, surprisingly formal- from the size and weapon, I'd have expected him to be inarticulate. "We don't know this chick-" He actually hesitates briefly when he glances over at me, not even trying to disguise the way his eyes shift up towards the horns emerging from my scalp.

"Dude, Cardin, chill," the third boy whispers, elbowing Cardin. This one is shorter than Cardin or Blondie, and a lot scruffier, his head mostly shaven except for the neon green mohawk. He's also the only one out of the four to not be wearing any armor besides a single spaulder on his far shoulder, and the only one so far to have an accent: it's slight, but recognizably Vacuese. Which helps explain the fashion sense, at least.

"Don't let our fearless leader put you off," the final boy says. He's quieter than the other three, hair dark blue and combed back, eyes the same color as his hair. He offers me a hand to shake: "Sky Lark."

"…Dreki," I reply, shaking his hand.

"Right, introductions," Blondie says. "I'm Dove Bronzewing. By the way, you a Huntress?" He tilts his head at me and nods at Aurora.

"Ah… kind of." I briefly consider just vaulting over the table and leaving, but that would probably raise some red flags. Fucking hell.

"What's that mean?" Cardin looms over me, far too much like Armstrong. I notice the weapon lying down on the wooden seat of the booth- a cruelly shapen mace, flanges curling up and around like a cage of jagged metal surrounding a core that glows with the heat of Burn Dust.

I swallow, peeved that I'm letting some random Huntsman students throw me off like this. "Uh, just coming up from Vacuo to help with clearing Beacon." Qrow did mention something about needing as much help as he could get. "I've, uh… got family in the city."

Cardin doesn't quite buy it, but it's his friend sitting beside him that pokes the first hole in my story. "Russel Thrush," he starts, pointing a thumb back towards himself, and then ever so subtly narrows his eyes at me. "If you're from Vacuo, why the weird accent?"

"I… I'm from Atlas originally," I clarify. "Spent some time in Mistral, too, but went down to Vacuo for… primary combat school."

Russel's mouth twists up into a grin, but his eyes don't get the memo. "Oh, sweet. Which combat school did you go to?"

Son of a bitch. Thankfully, Arnaut is still here, squeezed up next to me now in order to avoid overlapping with any of the newcomers. "Say you went to Recluse, but left the kingdom before graduation."

"Recluse," I say, meeting his false smile with one of my own. "Fall of Beacon killed my plans to graduate and go to Shade, though."

Russel's smile only slightly grows. "Funny, it kinda shot our graduation plans, too." They share a dark chuckle. "I went to Recluse, too, though- don't remember seeing you around, much. Which homeroom teacher did you have?"

"Recluse doesn't have homeroom teachers. Say that your favorite teacher was… let's see, Phalangus should still be teaching there, right? I ran a few missions with him before he took a job there as the hand-to-hand combat instructor."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about with the whole 'homeroom' thing." I shrug helplessly, but my hand starts to shift ever so slightly towards Aurora just in case. "Phalangus was my favorite teacher, if that's what you mean."

The smile wavers, then shifts to a more muted, real one. "Man, that hardass?"

"What can I say," I sigh, leaning back and dropping my hand. "I like punching things."

The tension mostly evaporates after that, and the team thankfully proceeds to mostly ignore me. I only pay half attention to them, but from what I can pick up they were working during the Fall and only just recently got sent out on a job to deal with a pack of Ursai that had been stirring up trouble around this town.

Occasionally, they'll offer an in-route to their conversation- some inane little question obviously intended more as an olive branch than anything else- but I keep my responses short, calm, and polite, and they eventually take the hint.

I try not to be too obvious as I size them up from under my hood. Dove, the blondie, just seems… normal. Not even Huntsman normal- that doesn't exist- but like someone I could run into on the street. His weapon is a sheathed shortsword, but I can pick out some abnormalities on the hilt that might indicate a concealed firearm of some sort. He's wearing light-weight utilitarian bronze and leather armor, which makes sense- with the low weight but short reach of the sword, he probably wants more speed than defense.

Sky is the wild card, even quieter than I first pegged, but he looks at Dove with something more assertive than he lets on verbally. I can't quite figure out what the relationship there is, but it's something outside of what the other teammates have for each other. He's in thicker, medium weight armor, and his weapon is a wicked-looking halberd with an abnormally deep notch in the blade that reminds me of the decapitation notches in executioners' swords. That detail is enough to make me consider bumping him up in priority- he might be concealing a fair amount of bloodlust behind the quiet, calm facade.

Russel is the one I feel like I can deal with last if I have to. He seems like the most likely to run away or give up if I knock down one or two of his teammates, and also like he'd be the hardest to chase down while eating the blows of the other three. He's opted out of armor entirely, and his weapons are paired hunting daggers, which I know can't do enough damage to threaten my Aura stores, especially if he's as physically weak as he looks.

Cardin is what has me on edge. He might be clad in full metal plate, but he moves as though it doesn't weigh him down at all, and he handles the mace easily enough that taking a hit from it seems like it'd be brutal. He also hasn't stopped looking at me with lingering suspicion when he thinks I don't notice.

Cardin would seem to be the leader, so maybe I'd need to go after him first?

No, I decide. The first one that I'd need to end would definitely be Dove. He seems like the heart of the team, the one to drag Cardin out of his shell, get through Russel's wall of sarcasm, and hold some special sway over Sky. There's a risk that knocking him out would just piss the rest off, but even that means that they'd fight less intelligently-

My train of thought flies off the tracks when I pick up on something Dove is saying: "C'mon, Russel, you need to nut up and just ask one of those Malachite twins out already."

I can't help myself from violently choking on my water and barely choke out a "What!?"

Four sets of blue eyes turn on me. Dove is the first to speak: "What, is it something I said?"

"I-" Shit. "Uh, I've-" No, if I say I've heard of the twins, they'll just get more suspicious, I think. Son of a bitch, what do I say? Arnaut isn't much help in this situation, just shrugging when I look towards him, leaving me with only one option: try to bullshit. "Uh, I was just amazed that you thought… asking one of the twins out… was a good idea…?"

"Why?" Russel looks at me with a flicker of suspicion, but also visible relief that I'm bailing him out of the line of questioning.

"Besides the fact that they're assassins?" Sky inserts with a hint of incredulity.

"Because…" A thought occurs to me, and I roll with it. "Because if you pick one twin, the other one'll probably get pissed, right? And if she's an assassin like Sky said, that might end badly for you." They seem to swallow the explanation, and I claim my victory after throwing all female criminals under the bus. Then again, if anyone would kill you for picking their sister, it'd be Melanie and Miltia.

The waiter finally shows up with my three steaks and drops them on the table, instantly killing the conversation. Those same four pairs of eyes track the still-slightly-steaming meat on its path across the table and then settle on me with eerily similar looks of mixed disbelief and envy.

"You're… really gonna eat all of that?" Dove finally asks, always the first to speak.

I answer by cutting off a massive chunk of the first steak and devouring it like a starving wolf. Thoughts of them go out the window- I only vaguely register their expressions in my peripheral vision go from jealous to confused to flat-out incredulous- as I polish off the last of the third steak after maybe three minutes, breathing heavily.

"…Holy shit, woman," Dove breathes. "What, have you not eaten in a week?"

I'm too satisfied at the moment to form full sentences. "Ration bars."

They seem to get the message well enough and nod, waiting on their own food to show up. They keep talking, but now, my hunger sated and my paranoia muted for the moment at least, I start to pay more attention to the details. Apparently in the wake of the Fall, large portions of Vale City had to be abandoned to the Grimm- practically the entire northeastern quadrant and even much of the central portion surrounding the school. A huge number of civilians had to evacuate and find temporary emergency shelter in Junior's fucking club, which might explain how these Huntsmen knew the Malachite twins, but ultimately raises more questions than answers.

These four, designated as team CRDL (Cardinal), were a fairly large portion of the rescue efforts, especially due to Cardin's Semblance letting them control the Grimm better.

I interject briefly at the mention of there being a Semblance that can control Grimm, a flicker of misplaced hope emerging that it might prove useful to my situation. "What's Cardin's Semblance?"

Dove, Sky, and Russel share a look of worry between them, but Cardin turns to look directly down at me. The silence begins to weigh down on me as I wonder if something in my three-word sentence might have given me away, hand reaching back towards Aurora's hilt. I have a Burn/Blast round chambered, so if I flare my Aura and shoot beneath the table it should take them by surprise-

On this subject, Arnaut does have something to offer. "Dreki, a Semblance is extremely personal. You're not supposed to ask someone else unless it's a pressing issue."

Ah. I raise my hands defensively and apologize- "Sorry, I guess that's a little bit personal to ask some people I just met. I just never heard of a Grimm-controlling Semblance before…"

"That's not it," Cardin grunts, and seems to come to a decision. "My Semblance is fear- I can scare people around me, and the negative emotion from it draws the Grimm towards me."

I nod slowly, masking any trace of the disappointment from reaching my face. There seems to be some sort of unspoken moment between the team at his admission, with Russel shooting him a supportive grin.

"That's-" Arnaut jolts forward. "What did he say his last name was? Ask him if he knows the name 'Winchester'."

"Would you happen to know anyone by the name 'Winchester'?" I ask, tilting my head at him in a way that I hope seems innocuous enough- but allowing my facade to crack briefly as I realize that the Winchester name rings a bell for me, too.

All the eyes snap right back to me, suspicion rekindled, but Cardin is the one to answer: "Yeah. Me." He's still looking at me in a way that makes me think he knows more than he lets on. "What did you say your-"

He's interrupted by the arrival of their food, which I note with a hint of annoyance came three times as quickly as mine did. The conversation dips back into safer subjects, but the subtle looks from Cardin do not cease. When Dove asks me a question, I'm glad for the moment of relief it provides from the silent on-and-off staring contest, even if it is a bit too personal for my tastes: "Can I see your UGS?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Your ultra greatsword," he clarifies. "Or do you call it a claymore? Isn't it way too thick to be one of those?"

"Ultra greatsword," I repeat, trying out the words in my mouth.

Dove keeps staring directly at Aurora with an odd, fascinated glimmer in his eyes. "Anyway, your sword- I'd like to see how it's constructed. Wouldn't the weight balance be off with a straight blade like that? Do you use Gravity Dust compensators? Also, the size seems like it's overkill."

I sigh and oblige him, lifting Aurora to sit horizontally along the back edge of the table and sliding it from its sheathe, which is made of some sort of collapsible reinforced nylon material and trails behind me like an extremely thin cloak when Aurora is out. Here in Vale, the odds of it being recognized are pretty low, so-

Fuck!

Russel is staring right at it with wide eyes that slowly track up to meet mine. "Hey, Dreki… did you base that on the Golden Guardian's weapon?"

I do my best to hide the surge of relief that rushes through me. "Uh, yeah. Growing up, he was always…" I grit my teeth- "My hero." Arnaut's expression goes so smug that I risk whispering "Fuck off" to him under my breath.

"Who should fuck off?" Sky asks, expression mildly offended.

How the hell did he hear that? "Uh, the, uh… chef," I lie, prodding at the mashed potatoes that came with my steak. "These are awful. Sorry, I didn't mean to say that to any of you."

"Right, right," Sky nods, turning back to his meal, just in time for Dove to tap in.

"So, what's the recoil on this thing? I assume it fires thirty millimeter rounds, right? Does the flared gap in front of the barrel make it work with Burst rounds, or not? Do the Dust projectors add a false tip, and if so, how much extra reach can you gain from it?"

I open and close my mouth. In the process of trying to remember all of the questions, somehow I forgot them all instead. "Can you repeat that, but slower?"

"Ah, nevermind, those were mostly rhetorical anyway," Dove responds, running a hand along the twisting vine patterns carved along the flat of the blade. "Aren't thirty millimeter rounds super expensive, though? You probably save the cannon for when you really need it, huh?"

"Yeah," I sigh. Dust in general is fairly expensive, and even more so now that the embargo has hit. Even with the motherload I struck off of Arnaut's bounty and personal bank account, I'm… Hold on, I think, with slowly growing horror as I start to mentally add up the Dust rounds I've bought so far. If they're around 50 Lien each, and I bought twelve at the first store, and then five more before the Dust Wastes, and then another eight… plus seven… plus-

Holy shit. I've spent a little over four thousand Lien on ammunition alone in the last few weeks. I drop my head into my hands, trying to control my breathing.

Even though I'm fine in the money department, I'm loathe to commit frivolous spending… and yet, here I am having spent a quarter of a year's worth of an average person's wages on flashy explosions. In fact, why am I even blowing cash on the rounds, anyway? Fifty Lien for something that I use once and destroy in the process?

I shake my head, muttering in the barest whisper, "Arnaut, your gun costs more to use than an actual fucking hired gun."

"You alright there?" Dove pokes me in the horn, snapping me out of my funk but also triggering a defensive instinct. My arm flickers up to grab his in a vice grip for a second before I realize what I'm doing and let him go with an apologetic smile.

"Dude, you're not supposed to touch a Faunus' animal traits without their permission," Russel chides.

"Shoot, sorry," Dove says with another winning smile, flexing his wrist experimentally.

Ignoring the altercation entirely, Sky looks at me with discerning eyes. "How did you only just now realize how much money your ammunition costs?"

Okay, something's up. He shouldn't have been able to hear me say that to Arnaut. "I…" Crap, I can't bullshit and say that Recluse provided me ammo because Russel went there. I'm obviously not from a rich family, so… wait, I'll just lean in on the Arnaut thing. "The Golden Guardian was my, uh, mentor. He usually paid for all the supplies."

"You did an apprenticeship with the Golden Guardian?" Russel asks, eyes wide. "Shit, that must've kicked ass."

"Yep."

"You flatter me," Arnaut says with a shit-eating grin.

Dove lifts Aurora by the handle and whistles. "I figured it must've been hollow or at least partially polymer- but this thing's all metal. Cardin, you try lifting it."

I resist the instinct to object, despite how wrong it feels to give my weapon over to the larger boy. He lifts it easily, of course, but when he sets it down he turns and faces me with the first genuinely respectful look he's given all afternoon: "You can lift that on your own?"

"Yeah," I reply, slightly self-conscious.

"If you're that strong, then why not wear armor?" Dove asks, but immediately answers his own question, slapping a curled-up hand into his open palm: "Ah, I see, to maintain speed, right?"

I nod, fairly certain that if I spoke I'd just get interrupt-

"Okay, so you focus on speed but still do strength training purely for the striking power with… I'm sorry, what's her name?"

"Her?" I frown.

"Your sword."

"Oh… Aurora." I don't feel as awkward as I thought I would saying that out loud.

Dove nods, still tracing along the intricate carved details absentmindedly. "So the blade's probably wide enough to double as a shield if you really need it, and you can beat pretty much anyone in an attrition war because all of your attacks hit so hard… the reach is pretty solid, and it's all blade, which should be good for crowd control, which means… how do you deal with fast, agile opponents?"

I blink. It took me nearly two months of walking and a long explanation from Arnaut to figure out the reasoning behind the sword's design, and Dove just figured it out in ten seconds. Still, talking about hand-to-hand- the thing I'm most confident at- brings a little bit more pride into my expression and tone when I answer him: "I one-hand the sword and use my offhand for faster enemies."

"You can one-hand that thing?" Cardin says incredulously. "No fucking way."

If I'm being honest with myself, I'm probably allowing both my pent-up frustration with Armstrong and my residual cockiness to affect my judgement when I snap my gaze over to him and ask "What? You want a demonstration?"

An equally cocky smirk emerges on his face. "Why not."

I jerk my head towards the exit. "Let's go, then."

"You two can have yourselves a sanctioned duel when we get back to Vale," Sky sighs. "Until then, Cardin, can you not pick a bar fight with a Faunus girl three years younger than you?"

Cardin tilts his head and looks down at me through half-lidded eyes. "Lucky you."

Normally, I'd just let it go, but something about my return to Vale has made the subtle little things harder to ignore- not just the blantancy of Armstrong and the residents of Southfen, but the fact that I had to shout over a waiter, got my food far slower than anyone else, and the unspoken distrust Cardin has had for me based on nothing but my appearance.

"Sounds like an excuse to me," I sneer, snapping Aurora back into its sheath.

Cardin's eyes actually flicker with delight at that, not resentment. I misread him, but it's a pleasant surprise. "What'd you say to me?"

"I said it sounds like a scared little bitch taking his chance to get out of a fight with a girl three years younger and a foot shorter than him, all because she can lift a bigger weapon than he can," I growl, a smile emerging on my face as well now that I can sense the altercation approaching.

"Cardin, man, don't do it," Dove advises. "C'mon, guys, if we start a bar brawl on our first mission outside Vale, we're gonna get reassigned back to block clearing duty. Sky? Russel?"

Russel is just grinning. "I want a crack at her once Cardin loses." Cardin silently turns and glares at him, but he just shrugs. "I don't think you know who you're picking a fight with, fearless leader. If she really got trained by the Golden Guardian, then…"

"I don't give a shit who trained her," Cardin growls, starting to stand up.

"Okay, how about this," Dove pleads, "She helps us deal with the Ursai, we split the pay with her, and then you two settle this in an actual dueling ring in Vale."

I frown. Going out of my way to help these people kill some Ursai is undoubtedly a waste of time, but at the same time… I really want to blow off some steam by wiping that smirk off of Cardin's face. "I'm fine with that plan if you are."

"I don't know, 'sounds like an excuse to'-" Cardin chokes off when Dove clearly kicks him in the shin under the table. He glances around at the people muttering and pointing at him, then looks at his teammates, and finally at me. "Fine."

Hunting down the Ursai only takes about thirty minutes. Dove emits a noise that sounds like the upper hertz frequencies that you can only half-hear, on the very border between audible and inaudible, and then directs us towards the Grimm from nearly two kilometers off. The fact that Dove reminds Sky to deactivate his Semblance before using it gives me a pretty good guess at them both: Dove must be some kind of echolocation, and what he said to Sky, combined with Sky hearing my whispering at the table, makes me think his Semblance must be enhanced hearing of some sort.

I've revised my kill order on the team. Dove still dies first, but I've promoted Russel to second. Sky is more fast and agile than he looks, and I at least know his Semblance isn't going to fuck me if we fight. Cardin probably can't use his without scaring off his own teammates and attracting the Grimm, as well as possibly triggering the Grimm in me, plus the armor on him is going to take forever to get through.

Russel is an unknown. I have no clue what his Semblance is, and the only mention of it that I picked up on so far was in reference to it possibly leaving behind permanent damage. It being a vicious offensive power might explain the overall lack of armor, defenses, and striking force- in fact, the mobility and agility would be perfect to support a Semblance that was used to deal raw damage.

So I blitz Dove, then Russel, and then I'm left with Cardin and Sky. Sky would obviously be an easier target to put down, since his Semblance is useless in a straight fight and he isn't as well-armored as Cardin. However, it's probably wiser to deal with Cardin first, because if I leave him the only one alive then he can have free reign with the fear Semblance. Once I chip down Cardin, Sky alone shouldn't be much of-

"Hey, what're you thinking about?" Russel asks from just behind me.

My heart skips a beat and I leap forward away from him, hand snapping to Aurora's hilt. "N- Nothing," I manage, trying to quell the adrenaline surge.

"God, you're on edge all the time," Dove notes. "Vacuo really that dangerous? Plus, it's a desert, right? Shouldn't you be able to see everything coming there?"

"It's not all desert, numbnuts," Russel corrects, fingering the hilts of the knives at his waist. "But, yeah, Dreki, you are kinda… jumpy."

"Sorry," I manage, calming my heart down to normal. "I've been traveling alone for a long time now."

"Yeah, about that," Russel says, eyebrows furrowing in a 'piecing-something-together' way that I've come to dread after seeing Arnaut do it a hundred times, "You didn't… walk here, did you?"

"Uh…"

Dove starts laughing. "What are you talking about? Of course she didn't walk across the entire continent of Sanus right after a worldwide emergency. That would be beyond stupid on a good day, much less now with the way the Grimm have been since the Fall. She obviously took a ship or flight."

Sky chips in. "Commercial intercontinental air travel has halted, and there aren't any ports south of where Drake's Run feeds into the Aegir Ocean."

All three of them slowly turn to look at me, and I look at the ground. "Uh…"

Russel's tone gradually shifts more towards disbelief with each word. "But the land route doesn't exist anymore and hasn't for eighty years, since the collapse of the Dustlands at the end of the Great War. Now there's just three thousand kilometers of Grimm-infested wasteland that professional Huntsmen aren't even allowed to enter."

I stare firmly at Russel's boots, and then at a tree off to the right. "Uh…"

"Holy shit," he breathes. "You insane, batshit crazy, absolutely nuts little girl."

At that I bristle. "Little girl? You-"

Sky has apparently finished his mental math and somehow goes even paler. "Vacuo City to Hildenshire by land should be around nine thousand kilometers. It's only been sixty-four days since the Fall of Beacon. You mean to tell me you've been walking one-hundred-and-forty kilometers a day for two months?"

"Uh…" I briefly, irrationally hope that they'll go away if I don't say anything, but when it becomes clear that they won't, I grimace and offer my best shot: "I actually started in Ilaria…"

"Oh, so only eight thousand kilometers," Sky says with a hint of hysteria. "That changes things completely!"

"Well, and I Aura Sprinted for a hundred twenty kilos every day," I add. That's more of an average than a hard number- I Aura Sprinted for most of the way through Vacuo, before Arnaut was willing to teach me much of anything, and most of the way through the dust wastes for obvious reasons, but I've done it less since I entered Vale and really started training.

"Right, right," Dove says, impish smile on his face. "Aura Sprinting from Ilaria to Vale is a much better idea than walking from Vacuo to Vale."

I'm about to agree with him when I realize he's being sarcastic.

Russel's even more blown away than the other two. "You walked the dust wastes? Tell me, are you medically, clinically insane?"

"No, I don't think so…"

"Cardin!" Dove calls, waving the larger team leader over. "Cardin, dude, get this: this chick walked from Vacuo to Vale."

The larger boy shows his surprise for just a moment before masking it beneath that stoic, superior face once more. When he speaks, it's in a menacing tone: "We're getting close to the Ursai pack. There are probably going to be a few majors mixed in, so nobody do anything stupid- we don't get to fuck around just because we're out of Vale City, understood?"

The mirth mostly fades away from his three subordinates as they share a confident nod. Cardin looks at me expectantly, and it occurs to me after a few seconds that he expects me to follow suit; I just snort and smirk up at him. "We gonna do this, or…?"

"I like her attitude," Dove whispers, even as Cardin turns away from me with distaste flickering across his face. "Don't mind him, he's a softie deep down-"

"Unless you want me to shove your softie up your own deep down, shut up and stop broadcasting our location to the fucking Grimm," Cardin growls.

"That doesn't even make- mmph!" Dove is finally silenced when Sky forcibly places a hand over his mouth.

"So, fearless leader, what's it gonna be?" Russel asks. "Ambush? Minefield? Fish Barrel?"

"Fish Barrel," Cardin confirms, then hesitates- "Lizar- Faunus girl, we're running a plan where I bait the Grimm into one area and trap them there. You can either drop in and help, or shoot them from safety. Up to you."

I don't miss the slur, but I also don't miss the fact that he corrects himself from using it. None of his teammates seem particularly anti-Faunus, which makes me wonder if he's just reining himself in for their sake, or genuinely trying to improve himself.

Either way, he raises a hand for us to halt as the first of the Grimm come into view, then turns back to face us and nods. I don't return it this time, but neither do I give him any snarky comment- if he'll take baby steps respecting me, then I'll do the same for him.

He recognizes the change, flashes me one more half-smirk, and then takes off in a firm run towards the pack of Grimm. His whole form flickers black with the activation of his Aura, and then I feel it- the surge of irrational fear, the desire to flee-

These Huntsmen could kill me, they could report me in, they could… what if they know the Old Guard, and they gave me over to them? What if they torture me until I give up Roman and Neo? What if they already caught Roman and Neo, and they know who I am, and-

I stumble back a few steps, only to feel a hand on my back and turn to see a slightly reddish-tinted Russel. His face is slightly confused as he glances into my eyes, which must have glowed slightly red under the shading of the hood, but the glow fades quickly as Cardin gets far enough away.

"It's always a bitch the first time, right?" He grins a crooked smile at me. "Everyone always assumes 'no, I know it's coming, I'll just compensate for it and make myself think straight. Thing is, fear doesn't let you think straight."

I look away, feeling suddenly ashamed that I let this Huntsman trainee see me so vulnerable. "How long until we can engage?"

"Trust me, you'll know it when you hear it," Dove grins, his sword already out and being twirled readily in his hand. He's dropped into something of a runner's starting stance, fidgeting out the excess energy in preparation for the incoming fight.

"What is that supposed to mea-"

Kathoom.

I'm actually staggered back a few steps by the shockwave of wind originating from nearly a hundred meters off, and turn to see a pillar of dust and rubble thrown into the sky. By the time it starts to rain down, Russel, Dove, and Sky have all already taken off towards the origin of the explosion.

I feel an unexpected flicker of competitive spirit and grin, closing my hand over Aurora's blade. "Oh, no you don't."

Then I take off in a full Aura Sprint, whipping through the trees and closing the gap on the other members of CRDL. As I reach them, I see they're gradually making their way up an artificial hill of sorts. The ground here bends upwards with crushed and piled up debris, making for extremely unstable footing- so I vault up against the side of a tree, then rebound off it with an Aura-empowered leap across the gap to the next tree, and the next, zig-zagging through the forest canopy. It's something I've had more than enough time to practice after nearly a full month walking through Vale.

Unfortunately, I figure out the flaw in my technique once it's already too late to stop- At the crest of the hill, the edge of the treeline abruptly cuts off, and I'm already sailing towards the last tree too quickly to just stop.

So instead, I let out a mad laugh and jump off of it even harder, blasting enough Aura out through my feet to shatter the trunk into splinters behind me. I hurtle out into the gap at the edge of the crater Cardin's somehow created, still laughing as the adrenaline rush soars through my veins…

Then good old gravity brings me dropping back down towards earth.

Even as I spin off-kilter and hurtle towards the ground, I'm already charging up Aura in Aurora's blade, catching brief glimpses of the spot where I'm going to land. I note, with glee, that there's an Ursa in it.

As I near the ground, nearly twenty meters down from the peak of my jump, the first twinges of fear emerge as they always do. I fight them back with my words, starting out through gritted teeth but escalating to a defiant roar on the last one: "Out. Of. My. Way!"

With all the momentum of my fall, spin, and swing combined behind it, Aurora arcs down to cleave right through the Ursa Major in one blow, plunging into the rock-

Then I discharge the Aura stored within it. The blast cancels out the momentum of my fall but only speeds my spin, causing me to rebound sideways and turning me briefly into a human buzzsaw spinning across the floor of the crater, cutting right through another three Ursai in my path.

I finally spin out to a stop with an Aura-reinforced claw digging into the earth, sliding to a gradual moment of stillness with a line of ravaged stone left in my wake.

A brief lull in the combat passes, Ursai readjusting to the new situation while Cardin and I lock eyes. I spin Aurora around behind me, dropping into Spring Cloud, and we share a grin-

Then Sky shoots an Ursa from the top of the crater and all hell breaks loose again.

The entire battle takes all of twenty minutes. Cardin and I likely could have handled the pack on our own, so the addition of three more Huntsmen makes the fight into a breeze.

When it's over, I sigh and drop down to sit on a conveniently-sized stone. Physically tired as I may be, though, the combat served well to clear my head. It's paradoxical, but there's something calming about the simple rush to be found in a good fight.

Nothing lasts forever, though, and the paranoia returns swiftly.

I'm bumping up Russel to the first slot on my kill order. Dove is actually the most skilled fighter on the team, so I'm shifting him to third. Cardin stays in last for obvious reasons. Sky is actually more of a mid-range fighter than I'd thought, and I suspect I don't know the full story on his Semblance, so I'm dealing with him second before he can blast me with the rifle built into his halberd.

Russel is actually pretty fast, but he isn't faster than I am, and he definitely isn't faster than a Beam round from Aurora. His Semblance worries me too much for me to give him a chance to use it if a fight breaks out.

Arnaut drops down beside me. "You still expend far too much Aura, Dreki. That's another bout where your Aura dropped below half and you didn't even take a head-on hit."

I laugh. Of course that's what he has to add. "I wasn't taking that seriously and you know it," I reply under my breath.

"Any fight, no matter how easy, is practice. Alorn always said, 'Bad-'"

"'Bad habits are like sycophants," I recite. "'Indulge them too much and they'll never go away'." Whether it's because of how prevalent in Arnaut's memories they are, or because I've had to hear him repeat them a thousand times, I have an annoying number of Wind Knight quotes rattling around my skull. "Look, I'll work on it next time, alright?"

"It's your decision," Arnaut replies.

"Look, Arnaut, I-"

"Who are you talking to?" Sky calls.

God damn son of a bitch. I really need to do a better job of remembering his Semblance. "Uh… myself?"

Sky isn't convinced. "You refer to yourself as 'Arnaut'?"

Russel chimes in: "Wasn't that the Golden Guardian's first name?" Given my luck, of course he'd happen to remember that.

"I-" I briefly consider making up a lie, but it's too easy to fact check me on. "Yeah. I, uh, pretend he's here watching over me, giving me advice, you know?"

Russel frowns, but no one pushes me on the subject, and Cardin breaks the silence by calling us all over. To my surprise, the first one he addresses is me: "Give me your Scroll."

I take a defensive step backwards, curling a hand around Aurora's hilt over my shoulder. "Why?"

His reaction is equal parts bemusement and suspicion. "Because a deal's a deal. I'm gonna slot you in on the contract so you can get your cut of the reward."

"I…" After I reacted like that, I'm not sure that he wouldn't check the contents of my Scroll just in case. "Just forget about it."

"Really?" Dove asks, puzzled by my apparent generosity.

Russel grins and says, "Nah, let her. More for us, right?" However, his eyes remain trained on me, seeking, searching for something.

I meet him with a false grin and a cheerful voice: "Look, I'd say a good fight is its own reward, right? That was a blast."

Dove snorts at my unintentional pun, and Sky and I follow suite a few seconds later as we realize what he was laughing at. Cardin just rolls his eyes, but Russel… Russel breaks out into a wistful grin, looking right through me.

I really don't understand him. "What?"

"Oh, it's nothing," he replies, crossing his arms. "You just remind me of… someone."

Dove and Sky share a confused look at that, but for the first time all day, Cardin barks out a laugh. "Ha! Yeah, I can see it too now."

"See what?" Dove asks, to no avail.

Cardin and Russel just walk off, Dove trailing close behind and needling them to no avail. When I start to move off after them as well, Sky remains still and considers me, tracking my movement with his head, face still impassive as he tries to work out whatever it is Russel and Cardin are so entertained by.

It doesn't bother me much. I've tried and failed to figure myself out, so Sky can give it his best shot.

It takes us seven more days to reach the city limits of Vale. I probably could have done it in four, but CRDL aren't very good at Aura Sprinting. Apparently it isn't something they teach at Beacon.

The southern outer limits are marked by a long line of Hardlight Dust projectors, ready to form into a wall at the first sign of danger, with the odd lookout tower every couple hundred meters or so. We pass through without any real issue; one flash of Cardin's Huntsman-in-Training License is enough for the lazy guardsmen to wave us through. You couldn't tell Vale just suffered a devastating catastrophe by looking at their slumped shoulders and bored, inattentive expressions.

Even after we pass the city limits, we're in for a bit more hiking until we crest a foothill and look down over the glorious city of Vale. It's a monstrous, sprawling thing, stretching tens of kilometers wide across the plane between the eastern sea and western Dragonspine Mountains. Vale's capital is third in population, but by far the largest in area, with wide borders encompassing multiple forests and many individual suburbs spread out from the central city itself.

Our arrival is heralded by the sound of all of our Scrolls going off simultaneously with backed-up messages. With the CCTV down, Scrolls are only good within either their own short signal ranges or the larger ranges of the signal towers of individual cities, and even then, they can't be used to contact people in the same city.

Despite having been gone only two weeks, each of CRDL's Scrolls start to sound off with flurries of missed calls and messages from various acquaintances. Without even needing to say a word they all halt and spread out to sort through their respective stockpiles of information.

I stride further out, making sure I can see all of them when I open my own scroll. There are only four messages, all from Neo. Not really surprising considering her and Roman are the only two that have my number.

With one more glance to make sure the other four are absorbed in their own tasks, I open the first one, dated at being on the night of the Fall, only an hour or two after the last one I received:

[Neo]: Broke Roman out, rest was a cake walk. Trying out some a little bit of that Atlesian military superiority. First impressions 5/5 stars, would recommend. Hurry up in Vacuo already. Miss you. ;)

I grin at the joke, and at receiving my first words from Neo in over two months. The next message is from an hour later:

[Neo]: Little Red knocked me off ship. Landed fine, but Roman will need to finish her off and crash ship alone. Will update again once I find him. ;)

I pause. On the surface, that would seem like decent news; it at least explains why Roman had issues piloting the ship into the harbor. Little Red... I know the name, mostly from Roman's angry ranting after one of his solo Dust shop robberies went awry. A first-year Beacon student two years younger than normal that he would have killed had Goodwitch not arrived. Roman should've had no problem finishing her off alone, but it makes sense how wasting time on her might've screwed up his piloting. The news should be a relief, but…

Something seems wrong. You can usually tell how stressed out Neo is by how utilitarian her messages get. The first one is typical for her during an important job, but the second… I start to feel a little bit off, doubt creeping into my mind.

That doubt only snowballs when I see the third message, dated two days after the Fall:

[Neo]: {Message Deleted By User}

What did she send!? On the off chance that it's a glitch, I refresh the screen. Nothing. The gnawing traces of fear start to whisper in my mind again, and my heart starts thudding in my ears as I pull up the fourth message, dated a few hours after the third one.

[Neo]: Meet me in Mistral.

I stare blankly at my Scroll screen, and then my hand starts to shake, rage mounting. After two fucking months of hiking, of killing Grimm, of putting up with racists and Dusties and Syndicate Southies and Huntsmen, of nearly fucking dying multiple times, I get to find out that Neo's been gone from Vale since before I even left Vacuo.

And though I won't allow myself to admit it, the fear grows in tandem with the rage. I've never seen Neo delete one of her messages before, and I've never gotten a message from her without the wink at the end. Also, Roman uses his Scroll a lot less than her, but it's not like him to not send me anything after a successful operation, especially if he's heading to Mistral with Neo.

What the fuck happened? My vision starts to tint red, but I barely notice, mind running wild with a thousand unspoken fears. What if Cinder's organization is after them, to clean up loose ends? What if Roach captured them as leverage… What if they actually got caught by Vale authorities, or worse, Atlas?

Lingering in the very back like a malignant tumor is the one I don't even dare to think: What if Roman-

Crack. I look down to see that my hand has gone almost fully black; long, white claws lengthened to the point where they've punched through the screen on my Scroll, and down into my lower palm.

Funnily enough, the pain gives me something to focus on, to distract from the mounting fears for long enough that I can seal them back away once more. I've nearly slipped up with my Semblance more times in the last two months than in five years working under Roman. I really should fucking know better than that.

I look up with fading red in my vision to see that Sky is elbowing Dove and whispering something to him, while Russel is already standing beside the pair of them and staring at me with troubled eyes. Fuck, did Sky hear me break my Scroll?

"Did you, uh… get the bad news?" Russel asks, gesturing to his own Scroll.

And just like that, my moment of weakness is over and I start to throw the walls right back up. "What are you talking about?"

He starts walking towards me and I have to restrain myself, fighting the instinct to run away. "I saw what happened to Arnaut in the news. I'm… sorry."

I blink, still too busy sealing away all the rage to really process what he's saying. He raises an eyebrow, curious at my lack of reaction, but I'm not confident enough in my acting to sell grief… so I just sigh and look towards the ground.

Russel doesn't leave, instead stepping even closer. I drag my eyes from his shoes up towards his face, which is mostly showing concern, but also a bit of consternation that worries me. When he finally talks, it's in a quieter tone: "Sky, turn off your Semblance and let me talk to her." He waits a second, and then continues: "You follow the Path, right?"

I nod numbly, not trusting myself to put up a convincing act right now.

He gives me a kind smile. "I thought so. When you talked about Arnaut, you seemed distracted by something, so I figured…" he trails off, working his jaw in consideration of some new subject, and finally seems to decide to broach it: "Did you, uh… see it happen?"

"Yeah," I say, trying not to go back on edge.

"So that must be his actual sword, right?" He gestures towards Aurora.

I nod.

"And that's why you're out here, right? One of his… what was it… Anchors?"

I nod again.

Russel hesitates again, fidgeting his leg a bit, before meeting my gaze. "Are you… doing okay?"

"I'm fine," I affirm, a little off-put by what now seems like real concern for me from this boy I've only known for a week.

"…You sure?" Russel glances discerningly at me with those piercing blue eyes. "I've lost people too; I know it sticks with you."

My first thought is 'you don't even know', but that is soon trumped by a rush of… something. A sense of gratitude and belonging. It's not anything like the reverence I have for Neo, or the loyalty I have for Roman- if anything, it's closer to the quiet, gradual acceptance Arnaut and I have built up.

Regardless, I give my head a shake and look back up at Russel with a small, genuine smile of thanks- not for helping me deal with Arnaut, but for preventing me from spiraling into terror about Neo and Roman. "I've had four thousand kilometers to deal with it… and it's not like he's totally gone, right? I can still hear his voice when I commune."

He returns my nod, takes his Scroll back out, and walks off, but… a small part of me, one that I thought I'd left behind a long time ago, wishes he wouldn't. Arnaut, I think, unable to ask out loud because of Sky, What have you done to me?

(A/N) I've based the characterizations and Semblances of CRDL here on RainStorm4's Redemption, which I highly recommend to pretty much anyone, although you don't have to read it to understand this story. For anyone who has: I've undone just a touch of the development of some of them (mostly Cardin) for story purposes, but if you want to keep a throughline you can chalk it up to mild regression after the stress of the Fall of Beacon.

I'm making an effort to keep character names, town names, and accents influenced by a similar language based on area in order to emphasize the regional divides a bit more. Northern Vale is going to be Scottish/Gaelic, Central Vale is traditional American English, Eastern Vale is old British English, and Southern Vale is Southern American (as in Arkansas, not Brazil) English. The Dusties have a strong Roman/Latin influence, and I'm thinking various Asian countries for when we get to Mistral in two chapters.

We haven't really been given a coherent timeline or set-in-stone distances in the show, but I'm going to try to nail them down. With the measurements I'm using, the continent of Sanus comes in at about 12000 kilometers from left to right, but Dreki obviously has to follow roads and detour through towns, so her walking distances are inflated a bit over a simple straight line from Ilaria to Vale. For reference, the United States is about 4300 kilometers across.