(A/N) So I read somewhere that the showrunners state that 6-8 months pass between Volume 3 and Volume 4. As far as I can tell, this is factually contradicted by the show- the Vytal Festival takes place in Fall, and Volume 4 starts in Winter, meaning that it's either a 1-2 month gap or a 13-14 month gap. Given that over a year seems ridiculously long for Ruby to be bedridden / Blake to make her way to Menagerie / Weiss to just chill around her house, I'm assuming it's the 1-2 month gap.

This creates issues with Volume 5, in which they arrive in Mistral about a month before Fall classes start. However, something has to give, and I'd rather contradict Volume 5 than Volume 3 or 4.

Mistral's winter is mild compared to Vale's.

There's barely any snow to be seen, and while it's windy as all hell, the wind itself isn't particularly biting. It's a joke compared to Vale, which itself is a joke compared to Mantle, meaning I'm more than equipped to deal with it.

Higanbana is about 2400 kilometers east of Xiangan, although the road's such a winding, meandering thing that I wouldn't be surprised if I walked an extra half of the flat distance. I'm also Aura sprinting less and less, devoting the extra time and Aura towards practice instead. The Way of Wind's stances all require specific gathering of Aura to be effective- in fact, the strength lies in the way that you can focus your Aura on specific parts of your body in each stance, instead of simply passively strengthening your entire body at once.

In Spring Clouds, all the Aura is in the loaded back leg, which creates all the power behind the long, lunging attacks.

In Spring Rains, the Aura is focused into the extremities- ankles and wrists, to allow for the flexibility and precise maneuverability that the stance is best at.

In Spring Storms, the Aura is poured into the back leg and sword arm equally, which makes sense for a stance designed around equal parts offense and defense, aggression and caution.

I spend a lot of my time walking in one stance or another, practicing sword techniques until they're as natural as the act of walking itself. And yet, apparently I still have far to go- Arnaut refuses to let me move on from Spring Style until I've mastered it completely.

I can't practice all the time, though. If my Aura ever drops below thirty percent, I quit for the day, both as a way to train its recovery rate- something Arnaut says I can improve enough to recover Aura even during a battle- and as a precaution against possible dangers.

On the fourth day of walking, my caution is proven necessary.

The bandits emerge from a conveniently thick layer of brush surrounding the road, with one particularly large one stalking out into the middle of the road to stand there with his arms crossed. The rest fan out, forming a rough circle around me- I count ten of them, including the leader.

Speaking of whom, the man shouts his instructions: "You there! If you drop th' sword and come quiet, I promise we won't hurtcha…"

Another one off to my left says "That'd be a waste." A few dark snickers from all around me confirm the meaning behind his words.

Instead, I draw Aurora from its sheath. None of them react in a way that indicates they've heard the rumors- which is just fine by me. "Look, I'm giving you all one chance to lay down your weapons and fuck off."

"Ha! No, I don't think so, Scaly. How 'bout instead, I give you one more chance t' come peaceful-like," the leader threatens, brandishing a mace of his own. Compared to Cardin's, it's a crude, ugly thing, just like its owner.

"You made three mistakes," I say, keeping my voice calm as I drop into Spring Clouds. "The second one was to announce yourself instead of trying to catch me with a sneak attack, and the third was to let me draw my weapon."

The man snorts. "And what's the first, then?"

"Deciding to rob me," I hiss, discharging the pent-up Aura in my rear leg but managing to keep it within my body- effectively lunging forward without expending any Aura whatsoever. I celebrate the milestone by running the large man through the chest before he can even react.

However, when I kick his corpse off of my sword, the spirit of the others remains unbroken. Though that's to be expected. "Remind me again, Arnaut, what was Alorn's saying about the first man down?"

Arnaut sighs, glancing around at the slowly approaching bandits with a profound disappointment. "The first man's death breeds shock, the second horror, the third rage. Only the fourth man's death brings fear. Dreki… these are untrained civilians, they obviously stand no chance against you. Perhaps you can simply bring them in?"

"Maybe," I growl, sizing up my enemies. None of them have their Auras unlocked, and none of them have Dust weaponry either. In fact, it's almost enough to make me pity them… "You can all still surrender now. I'll turn you in at the nearest town."

"Shut up, bitch!"

"We'll make you pay for what you did to Lu."

"See if you're still so cocky once we've passed you around a few times!"

Arnaut slowly shakes his head. "Nevermind. Just… try to end things quickly."

Well, can't say I didn't warn them, I think, shifting lower into Spring Rains and wordlessly charging them.

It's a brutal yet efficient slaughter.

I cut through two of them like paper in a single thrust and transition into a slash that takes a third in half at the hip. A fourth tries to hit me in the back, but I punch through his chest with an Aura-enhanced bare hand.

"Holy shit…"

"She's a fucking monster!"

Turns out Alorn was right on the money, because after the fourth man drops they try to run. The one closest to me I reel in with two long strides and decapitate with one strike.

This is what a fight between a trained killer with Aura and a disorganized force of civilians looks like.

Another catches my eye and I shift into Spring Cloud, pulling back Aurora and activating the Hardlight tip, and then sending my Aura out through it in a straight-line Aura Thrust.

The long spear of golden light travels ten meters and punches a gaping hole through most of the man's upper body.

Another two are fleeing off to my right. I outpace them easily and come hurtling in from the side, fast enough that they can't even turn before I've torn right through them.

The last two… are off partway down the road. Their normal legs can carry them maybe twenty kilometers per hour at a dead sprint.

I can tear forward at nearly three hundred when I expend Aura on a jump, and land in an Aura-enhanced sprint, closing the gap in two seconds before lunging with a stab that goes right through the closer one and slides his corpse along the road for a good five meters.

The last survivor turns to see me as I dislodge Aurora and round on him-

"I surrender!"

My blade hesitates briefly, an inch from his chest, but I stop in place before killing him.

Then I see his face- it's the worst one of the group. The leering one who threatened to pass me around with his friends. Everything about him reminds me of the worst kind of scum to be found in Lower Mistral… Out of all the bandits, I refuse to give mercy to this one.

"You said hurting me would be a waste, right?" I ask. He swallows, but seems to relax a little bit when I drop Aurora down to my side. "Well, in the spirit of conserving resources… it'd be a waste of oxygen to let you keep breathing."

In one lazy swipe, I diagonally bisect his body before he can hope to react, spinning away from him and sheathing Aurora in one clean motion.

As I walk away from the bloodied killing ground, Arnaut is strangely silent, and I feel a slight worry that I might have pissed him off by killing the last man. "Arnaut, do you… should I have spared him?"

He snaps out of his funk immediately. "What? Oh… no, of course not."

I blink, surprised. "Really?"

"A few months ago, I might have said you should, but…" Arnaut's expression darkens. "He wasn't the type to deserve a chance at redemption. Besides, if you tried to bring him in, he could have simply denied his actions and labelled you a murderer. With no Huntress license and no contract, it would've been your word against his, and… you're a Faunus."

He's right. I snort at the realization that Arnaut just thought more cynically than I did. "I didn't even think about that. You must be rubbing off on me."

"And you on me," he sighs. "But enough. Let's return to Aura level training."

Almost like clockwork, four days later, I run into another bandit encounter- but this time, there's a slightly more familiar face.

This round of attackers are at least smart enough to open with firearms, but I'm able to vault backwards out of the way of their mediocre-quality weapons' fire. The next barrage I block with Aurora in Warm Front.

Then again, they can't be that smart, because they ditch their high ground in the treeline up on a hill off to my right to stride down, just as cocky as the first round of idiots.

I recognize one of them- the Branwen Tribe shithead from Xiangan.

"Was one ass-beating not enough for you?" I shout, sliding down into Spring Cloud and building up Aura, just in case.

He sneers. "That was a fluke. You mighta had a good run back on Sanus, beatin' up on dumb pickpockets n' fat, lazy gangsters, but this is Mistral. Even Huntsmen know not to pick a fight with the Branwen Tribe."

I snort. "I think the words you're looking for are 'don't bother stamping out', not 'know not to pick a fight with'."

He flushes angrily. "You cocky bitch. Just because you lazy pieces of shit over in Vale can pay off Huntsmen to leave you alone, doesn't make you strong. I asked around about your boss, Torchwick…" I tense up, the red in my grimm eye flaring bright enough to show through the cloth. Unaware of the danger, the bandit grins and continues: "He can't be too tough, right? I heard he got killed by a fifteen-year-old gir- Grk!"

His sentence is cut off when I tear forward in Sudden Squall, a move designed to break shields by stabbing into them and then ripping in an upwards motion to get them out of their holders' hands. The same principle applies for him, except when I rip upwards after piercing his chest, his body splits in half vertically along the torso.

"Good form, Dreki," Arnaut comments passively. "But… are you certain that was a good idea?"

I know it wasn't, but… after hearing him insult Roman like that…

Maybe this can still be salvaged. I drop out of my stance entirely and straighten up to look at the people around me. "Look, fellas, I genuinely don't have a problem with anyone else. None of you have to die, if you just-"

"Kill this bitch!"

The nearest bandit charges me. Fucking wonderful.

I feign a head-on clash with him, but spin around his strike at the last moment and strike with Aurora back behind me to claim his leg. Another bandit raises their gun, but by the time they can start firing I've already charged up a one percent Aura Thrust- not enough to threaten a trained, competent opponent with Aura, but against him, it destroys the gun and a large chunk of his torso.

"Your Aura control is improving," Arnaut critiques. "However, as I've said countless times, you're already excellent at discharging it. You need to practice holding it in, in order to amplify strength and speed without expending anything."

I chuckle grimly in response to that, drawing confused looks from the remaining bandits. The idea that these people's fighting for their lives is nothing but a training exercise for me…

I only now start to realize the reason Huntsmen are so deified. After weeks fighting Grimm and other trained fighters, I suppose my perception was tainted, but now I understand- the same Beowolves that I can cut through like a field of flowers, are monsters to people like these.

"You goddamn cunt," one of the men hisses. "We'll make you pay!"

Ah, right. The third man's death brings rage. I lower into the one-handed Spring Rains and surge towards them-

But three of them retreat, making room for a larger man to step forward, armed with an eight-foot spear that he levels at me. I can see the flicker of brown Aura activating and smile- "Finally!"

Then I hit him with four steps of Lashing Branches, the most basic of attacking combinations that Arnaut taught me, really just a repetitive left-right series of slashes. The man holds firm, blocking with the solid-metal shaft of his weapon, and then I'm forced to vault backwards away from the spray of gunfire-

But even as I land I have to roll sideways again to avoid the thrust of the man's spear. His reach is obnoxious, as is his defense.

I continue evasive movement as the gunfire follows me, scanning the battlefield- there's four ranged enemies, all with automatic Dust weaponry, low-grade but still a problem to just tank head-on. The real problem is the burlier spear-wielder, who stands between them and me.

I cross the road and manage to find cover behind a tree, and then hesitate. "Wait, I could just… leave, right?"

Arnaut gives me a knowing look. "If you start learning to flee now, from these cutrate bandits, after all the moronic fights you've picked over the last three months…"

I grin. "Good point."

"On the subject, though… you could just shoot them," he offers.

This time, it's my turn to shake my head with a knowing look of my own. "I don't think you actually know me if you think I'm blowing a hundred Lien to get out of a fight."

"Fair enough," he snorts. "Now, I'd recommend Grasping Branch for that spear wielder."

I nod, and then start to channel my Aura.

After only a few seconds, I have enough, and take off- making sure to retain the Aura within my legs. It cuts into my speed a bit, but I solve that problem by reusing the same restrained burst of Aura over and over as I pinball my way off of a few trees, building up as much momentum as possible before exiting the treeline as a grey streak.

The thing about speed training is that you have to match it with reaction training- if your legs move faster than your mind, then all that extra power is useless. Luckily Arnaut's had me doing both, and I can process things far faster than a normal person.

Case in point; the gunmen only starting to raise their weapons, moving in half speed to my eyes. I scan- three of them are bunched up to the left of the spearman, while the fourth is off to his right…

"The cost of greater numbers-"

"Is lessened freedom," I whisper, finishing the Alorn quote. "Yeah, I see it."

I slide to a stop at the edge of the road but keep Aurora stabbing forward, discharging an Aura Thrust at the gunman to the right that spears him through the shoulder. Fuck. The aim is slightly off- I'm still not completely used to the lack of depth perception.

Numbers cost freedom.

The thought behind that particular Wind Knight quote is simple- the more people you have to work with, the less you can do without stepping on someone's feet. Case in point, the fact that the three grouped-up gunmen can't shoot me now because the large bulk of the spearman is in the way. It buys me only seconds, and yet the Way of Wind is practically built upon using every single second to the greatest advantage.

Never stop moving.

I capitalize quickly, charging him and using the Grasping Branch technique as Alorn had suggested, stabbing forward with an opened tip. The spearman makes the same mistake as Cardin did two weeks ago and tries to block between the two sharpened end points, a greedy, shortsighted move intended to spare him the extra Aura loss that comes from blocking smaller, sharper, more focused damage.

I activate Aurora's Hardlight tip, and it glows into place around the spear, making it a simple matter to yank backwards and rip it from his surprised hands.

The gunmen emerge from behind him, two sprinting to the left again while another moves outwards towards the right.

I'm already moving in one smooth spin to my right, disabling the tip of Aurora, catching the spear as it drops, and then launching it with a blast of Aura towards the solitary gunman. I'm not particularly skilled with spears, and again the lack of depth perception hurts me, but I still get him through the upper arm and pin him up against a tree.

My long, rotating step keeps the spearman's body between me and the set of two gunmen. Before they can adapt their strategy, I start to channel Aura into my blade, waiting for the now-unarmed spearman to steady himself and then charge me-

At the last second, I roll out of the way of his clumsy punch, unleash a wide, flat Aura strike that catches both gunmen before they can readjust their aim, and keep Aurora moving in a full arc around behind me to shatter what's left of the spearman's Aura before cleanly severing his spine as he's still off-balance from his missed attack.

With that final strike, I stand alone on a hill of corpses-

No, wait. I can still hear the poorly-disguised whimpers of pain from the one whose leg I took off earlier and the one I impaled to a tree. One-leg has already gone into shock...

"No saving him," Arnaut notes.

I shrug, stalk over to the impaled one, and grab his chin to force him to look at me:

"You. I'm gonna let you live-"

"Oh thank you ma'am I promise you won't-"

"Shut up," I snap, and he clams up instantly. I actually feel a twinge of pity for the kid- he looks to be around my age, and probably just got born into this trade. "Look… I'll spare you, but in return you explain to whoever's in charge of the Branwen Tribe that this'll just keep happening if you people keep attacking me."

He nods frantically, and I yank the spear out of his arm, after which he collapses into a whimpering heap on the ground.

"Uh, Dreki…" Arnaut winces, sounding oddly apologetic. "He's simply going to bleed out if you leave him like this."

"Really?" I grimace, and then reach down to tear a strip of the kid's shirt off, pulling him up into a sitting position and wrapping the cloth around his punctured arm. This fucking guy will not stop whimpering.

"Dude, grow a pair, it's a through-and-through. You'll live," I growl, once again turning his eyes to meet mine.

This time, his expression is more complicated than just fear- he's got two other emotions in there, warring against one another- confused gratitude, and a rapidly fading resentment.

I rise to walk away-

"He won't make it far with that much blood loss," Arnaut comments. "He won't be able to replenish it without…"

"Fine." I slowly tilt my head skyward, and then rummage in my bag to snatch a plastic bottle of water and a couple of ration bars, tossing them in the kid's lap. "What, do I also have to personally carry this kid's ass back to his camp?"

Arnaut grimaces. "Actually…"

"Don't you fucking say it-"

He shakes his head and laughs. "No, that was a joke. The kid should live."

I shrug Aurora's sheath back into a more comfortable spot on my shoulder and begin to walk off, only to halt when the kid shouts something at me-

"Hey, you!" I turn around to see him looking at me with a poor facade of resentment that fails utterly to mask the hints of admiration peeking out underneath.. "How… how did you get so strong?"

This kid is full of surprises. I stand silent for a long time as I consider the situation, finally shrugging. "Find someone stronger than you, and learn from them until they aren't."

It's what I did with the bigger kids back in Atlas, and then the duelists in Mistral, and then Roman, and then footage of Huntsmen, and now Arnaut.

I leave the Branwen kid with that, stalking off into the night towards the next village up on my route towards Higanbana- Tsubaki.

Four days later, I'm an hour into practicing my Lashing Branches when Arnaut interjects:

"Stop, Dreki."

I sheathe Aurora and turn towards him, still walking. "What's the problem?"

"You're distracted, it shows in your form. What's going on?"

I wince. "You can tell that? Look, it's nothing, just-"

A scream cuts through the air and I laugh and curse at the same time. "Shit, I- yeah, it's that."

"How could you possibly-"

I draw Aurora and take off towards the sound, talking as I move. "First bandit attack was in the morning four days out from Xiangan, second bandit attack was in the morning four days after that, and now it's been four days again…"

Arnaut's amusement is audible. "And yet you think me foolish for believing in the Twin Gods?"

"Oh, shut up," I grumble, zeroing in on the issue- there's a wagon being attacked by a few Beowolves. "Arnaut, want to make this interesting?"

He understands my meaning implicitly. "Use only stanceless techniques."

"Sure," I reply, before surging forward with Rustling Leaves- a strike that trails behind me, tearing a deep groove along the ground before ripping up through the closest Beowolf in a spray of dirt. It's named for the low-to-the-ground wind that swirls fallen leaves around.

Most of the 'stanceless' techniques, like Warm Front and Lashing Branches, are named for much vaguer, non-season-specific wind terms. Arnaut has mentioned that the moves have evolved forms for each stance, but has yet to teach me any of those.

Another Beowolf turns towards me and swipes with a front leg. I take a swing with Lashing Branches and grin when it successfully takes the paw off mid-attack- I'm growing more accustomed to the covered-up eye.

The second step return swing cleaves the Beowolf's head in half.

A third comes at me from the side, pouncing through the air. I turn and bring a Broken Limb crashing down against its head before it can reach me.

There's another scream behind me, and I turn to see a Beowolf partially up into the cart, biting down on the leg of a young girl-

I slide forward under the cart and cleave it in half from below, then rise in a simple spinning attack called Whirlwind that kills two more Beowolves.

When I straighten up, I look around with slight disappointment to see no more Grimm. "Wow, that's it?"

"Be careful what you wish for, Dreki," Arnaut comments, pointing at something back across the cart. I turn to follow the line from his finger over to a Beowolf Alpha stalking out from the treeline.

"Nice," I say, dropping into Spring- no, wait, no stances. I correct myself and stride forward in a casual walking posture, around the cart, sizing up the opponent as I go. So far, my initially high impression is fading by the second. "Arnaut, is it just me, or is this thing… small."

He nods. "It looks to be a fairly recently evolved Alpha."

"Huh?"

"Well, you're aware that Beowolves evolve into Beowolf Alphas once they've survived long enough and fed on enough humans, correct?" I nod, stopping in place as the Alpha starts to pick up pace towards me. "The same principle goes for all Grimm. Some have defined evolutions, like Terrawyrms, Beowolf Alphas, and Ursa Majors, but all Grimm grow larger and stronger as they feed, regardless of evolution. This one appears… very recent, in fact."

That doesn't sound particularly good. Ah well.

"Please, Miss Huntress…"

"Not a Huntress," I reply instinctively, and then cringe- Shit, I should probably have pretended to be one-

I'm saved any further agonizing over my decision when the Alpha howls and charges forward at me, diving head-first along the ground to try to snap me up in its jaws.

I pound Aurora down into Planted Roots, surprised it was that easy-

But celebrate my victory too soon, as the Alpha's eyes glint with a bestial cunning and it turns its head sideways, biting down on me and Aurora from the sides.

Son of a bitch. I'm forced to vault backwards and abandon the sword, which the beast gnaws on for a few seconds before shaking around and then tossing off into the brush. The moment the sword leaves a ten meter radius of me, Arnaut disappears.

"Alright, if you hadn't done that, I might've made it quick," I growl, rolling up my sleeves, "But now I'm gonna make it hurt, instead."

The Alpha howls again, but this time I blitz it as soon as it raises its head, sliding into a semi-Cloud stance beneath its jaws and then launching myself into an Aura-enhanced uppercut that shatters most of the thing's teeth.

It yelps in pain and then whips those eyes back onto me, now burning in rage.

"Bring it on," I growl in response.

The fight is brief and extremely one-sided. It tries another bite and I step into it, stomping down on its now-toothless lower jaw hard enough to shatter it while slamming an uppercut into an equally disarmed upper jaw. There's a sickening snap of bone as I push its mouth open 180 degrees, and then the life fades from its eyes and it dissolves away into dust- and the ever-present trail of mist that drifts in towards me.

That's that, then, I think, turning and walking over towards the brushes that Aurora fell into. Once I get close enough, Arnaut fades back into existence, blinking something out of his eyes and then rolling them at me.

"Took you long enough."

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, digging through the bushes until a glint of gold catches my eye. I reach for Aurora, pull it out of the tangled mess of twigs and leaves-

My breath catches.

"Dreki? What's- oh," Arnaut sighs- a surprisingly relieved sound.

Aurora has been dented, the metal twisted- without my Aura reinforcing it, the Alpha's teeth rended the metal in several places, even ruining the edge. I feel a wave of regret rush through me- I shouldn't have let go of it, I just… didn't realize that…

"I suppose that's a lesson about keeping a steady grip on your weapon," Arnaut comments, still far too calm and amused.

I turn towards him, failing to mask my anxiety- "Why are you so… calm about this?"

"Dreki…" he affixes me with an empathetic, yet slightly bemused smile. "It's not that hard to fix."

"Huh?" I frown. "But… isn't it, like… special Aura-channeling material? And the gun barrel, and-"

"Dreki, I'm pretty sure the blacksmith in Tsubaki can handle fixing it," Arnaut says, hands held up in a placating gesture. "Truly- there's no need to worry."

"Oh…" I suddenly feel like an idiot, and turn back towards the cart of people in order to move on from the topic, jogging over. "Hey, are you all going to be okay?"

The man standing in front of the card, pitchfork in hand, looks at me with a simple gratitude that makes me feel uncomfortable. "Yes, miss, thanks to you, I think we will, but…"

I crane my neck, trying to sneak a glance into the cart. "Wait, holy shi-" I tame my tongue, realizing that there are multiple children present. "Uhm, didn't your child get bit?"

"Lianhua?" The man blinks, and then a smile creases his face- "Oh, no, the beast only got her dress."

"Good," I reply, feeling more awkward by the second, and then turn wordlessly to walk off-

"Wait, miss…"

I stop, a bad feeling emerging from somewhere in my stomach. "…What?"

"Well…" the man scratches his head. "Uhm… first, I just want to say that I love the Faunus, and that I would never treat someone differently because of their heritage…"

"Go on," I say, bad feeling only growing by the second.

"And, you see, miss, if there was any other way, I'd… and I mean any other way, but… my wife, you see, she's ill, and can't walk, and I'm not strong enough to-"

"Just…" I massage my temples. "What do you want?"

"Ah… so just to reiterate once again that this is not because you're a Faunus, I'd… uhm…"

I gaze at the now-silent man with naked disbelief, and then shrug and turn to walk away-

"Miss, could you pull my cart?"

I freeze, then look towards the front of his cart- the two horses were mauled by the Beowolves. When I slowly turn back around, I see him down on his knees with his hands clasped together in plea. "Miss, I promise, it's not because you're a Faunus-"

He silences instantly when I hold up a palm, but Arnaut fills the empty air: "Dreki, tell me you aren't going to let this man's wife die because you're too prideful to-"

"I'll do it, but…" I meet the man's gratitude-filled eyes with my own resigned one. "You must never- and I mean never- speak of it to another soul. Ever. You understand me?"

"Oh, yes, miss, thank you-"

"Also, throw this in the cart," I add, offering Aurora to him by the handle.

He takes it, but the moment my hand leaves the sword his eyes widen and he nearly drops it. "By the Twin Gods, miss, this is…"

I blink, and then help him heft it over to place in the cart. "Really?"

"It's not his fault," Arnaut comments. When I turn to him inquisitively, he continues: "Aurora is mostly gold with a titanium core and firing mechanism- it weighs around a hundred kilograms."

I just stare at him blankly as I rip the leather bindings connecting the horses' saddles.

"Dreki… a hundred kilograms is quite a bit," Arnaut adds.

"Is it?" I grab one of the wagon's wooden prong things that stretch forward, lift it with minimal effort, and start trudging forward towards Tsubaki.

"Yes," he replies, amused. "You have the strangest knowledge base that I've ever run up against- you can name fifteen ways to throw a punch, but you don't know what a normal carry weight is."

"Yes…?" I shrug. "Only one of those two is useful."

"Did you… ever attend any formal schooling whatsoever?" Arnaut asks.

"…No," I finally reply. "Unless it was before I was seven. That's as early as I can remember." I'm willing to trust Arnaut more now, but not thinking about the years before then is to protect me from the Grimm, not from him.

Arnaut nods and doesn't push the subject.

"Uhm… miss? Who… who're you talking to?" The man asks from behind me.

I flinch, and half-turn back towards him. "Uh… I'm…" You know what? Fuck it, it's worked as an excuse so far... "I follow the Endless Path. I'm communing with the spirit of my teacher."

The man nods, very slowly. "Sure…"

"The Endless Path," I repeat, but he just looks more confused.

"The Endless Path is a Sanus religion, and even then it's mostly in Vacuo," Arnaut sighs.

"Oh. Then…" I look at the mildly concerned farmer, weighing the benefits of giving him a lecture on the tenets of Vacuese religion, and then decide it's not worth it. "You know what? Just don't worry about it."

I increase pace, going beyond my normal hiking speed. Normally it would've been another two days' walking while training to get to Tsubaki, but with a sick mom and several scared kids in the cart, we're basically Grimm candy, so I push the limits of the shaky vehicle to shorten the journey.

I haul ass and make it to the town around 1:00 A.M.

Could have made it sooner, but I had to stop no less than six times to deal with Grimm. On the bright side, they were all relatively weak, common types, so I could handle them well enough even without Aurora. Also on the bright side, coming in this late means that I can drag the cart up to the inn without being seen by too many people.

If I'm being totally honest, it's not really that demeaning, but… there's this implication, this gut feeling. It emerges and refuses to go away as I do what is essentially the work of an animal, stemming from the knowledge that my ancestors had to do things like this against their will… However, I don't let it go any further than a gut feeling. The farmer has been as clear as he possibly can that it's not a race thing.

He's unbearably sincere and thankful even now: "Thanks, miss!"

"Sure," I grunt, stepping in through the inn's doors and discovering to my immense disappointment that they aren't serving food anymore. Regardless, I soldier on and ask about rooms.

The elderly owner of the place glances suspiciously at me- which is fair, I look an absolute mess. The cloth covering my Grimm eye has begun to tatter, and I haven't washed in five days. "You, uh… alright there, missy?"

"Yeah. Look, you have an open room, or not?" I'm openly carrying Aurora at the moment- it's too messed up to cleanly fit into the sheath. Having the weapon out in a public setting like this, regardless of how deserted it is, worries me.

The old man sighs, eyes drifting to my horns. I feel a sudden twinge of suspicion myself- is he like this because I'm a Faunus? Regardless, he keeps the distaste mostly out of his voice when he speaks: "Well, miss, I don't think you'd want to stay here."

"Why not?" I challenge, temper flickering.

"Well, miss… 'cause we only got the one room left, and it's got three beds. You sure you want to be paying triple just to use one?" he asks, innocently enough to make the embers of anger fade out.

As annoying as it would be to overpay like that, I still have ample money left over from the Arnaut contract, and I suppose it's all mine, now that Roman- Nope, bad, we are not thinking about that. I force a grin: "Yeah, sur-"

"The farmer and his family will have nowhere to stay if you take the last room," Arnaut reminds me.

Son of a bitch. I bite my lip, working my jaw and crossing my arms in consternation. If I don't give them the room, it'll piss Arnaut off for a while, right? I'd rather not deal with that. "I… there's a family out there. Let them have it."

The tavern owner nods, a flicker of respect and surprise crossing his features before he sighs. "Missy, uh… ignorin' what I said earlier, this is the only tavern in th' town. You sure you're alright on your own?"

I fight the urge to roll my eyes and just give him a simple nod. "Yeah. Do you mind if I crash in a chair in the corner?"

Again, he's indecisive for an oddly long time, visible suspicion warring with sympathy in his features until sympathy apparently wins. "Guess it's no skin off my back. Careful, though- we lock up around 2:00, open back up at 6:00."

I nod and stalk off to the table wedged furthest back in a corner that can see the doors both to the outside and to the inn's rooms, roll my shoulders, and drop my things off on the ground beside me, before collapsing down into a slump back in the chair.

"Arnaut, you…"

"Yes, yes, I'll keep watch," he sighs. "And I was so looking forward to rubbing Grandpappy Trueman's face in the Faunus Civil Rights act for a seventh time."

I give a murmur of a chuckle, but sleep is already claiming me.

I awaken earlier than I'd like- even a sleep schedule as flexible as mine has its limits, and those limits appear to be sleeping out in nature with a pillow for a backpack for seven days, followed by one night trying to hold back vomit on a ship, followed by another twelve days of sleeping out in nature, followed by one night of four hours of sleep in a wooden chair.

Regardless, I blink the grogginess out of my eyes to see a Scorpion Faunus looming over the bar, looking down at the terrified owner. He's wearing a knee-length brown trench coat open in the front over white utilitarian clothing. A long black scorpion tail extends from the base of his spine, holding up the back of his coat as it reaches over the bar and hovers dangerously close to the bar owner.

The newcomer speaks in a high, theatrical tone, almost like he's putting on a show for a nonexistent audience. "Now, now, there's no need to fret so, my dear old friend. Whatever could be the matter?"

The elder barkeep stammers. "I- It's- Callows… you're not d- dead?"

At the name Callows, Arnaut gasps, but I'm too caught up in indecision to think about it.

This newcomer seems like trouble. He's got what look to be extremely high-grade Huntsman weapons strapped to his wrists, and moves with a fluid dexterity- despite the jerky insanity of his mannerisms- that worries me. All of my instincts are screaming at me to run, to get away…

He reminds me of Manhunter Marie.

Callows emits a suppressed giggle. "Ah, so you do remember me? Splendid, splendid! Oh, what wonderful news!"

"W- What do you want?"

He giggles again and lays a hand daintily against his chest. "Why, I want for nothing. My goddess, however… she seeks the silver-eyed girl. If you would pay a favor to an old friend… where did the girl scamper off to?"

"I- I don't think I know w- what-"

Callows is over the bar and raising the older man into the air in a stranglehold in a millisecond. His victim gurgles as his grip tightens, but Callows just tilts his head and cackles. "Oh, silly me- I suppose I didn't realize just how long it's been. You must have forgotten how much I hate being lied to!"

He slams the man back against the wall, tightening the grip enough. The barkeep's face goes red, his struggles slowly weakening until Callows drops him into a gasping heap on the ground. "But… worry not, dear friend. What's a simple mistake compared to all the years we've spent working together?"

He picks up the elderly man by the lapel, drags him up into a standing position, then dusts him off and pats his clothing back into place, even smoothing his hair. "Now, I'll ask again: where did the silver-eyed girl go?"

"She… she's heading for Shion, and then Higanbana," the barkeep says, defeated and clearly terrified.

"Glorious! You've been such a help," Callows gushes. "Worry not, I shall make certain to inform our goddess of your part."

"Just go, Callows," the barkeep says, eyes on the floor.

"Ah, yes, of course," Callows says, turning towards the door- but his eyes drift to the corners of their sockets, lingering on the barkeep. "Although- there is one more thing I must address. I did so wonder, during my time in captivity, just how it was that our late friend Pickerel- may he rest in peace- managed to figure out my last hunt and ambush me? I'd told no one about it… except you."

On the last word, his tail hisses through the air behind him and punches right through the barkeep's throat. There's a violent spray of blood, a gurgle, a whump of a corpse hitting the floor… and then silence, broken only by his overdramatic melancholy voice: "Oh, I do so despise liars."

"Dreki, this man is very nearly as dangerous as Manhunter Marie. Do not do anything to draw his attention," Arnaut says urgently.

I keep my mouth shut, eyes fixed on Callows as he hops the bar again and begins to stalk off towards the door-

Only to pause once more and slowly turn back around, gaze drifting over the empty tables and chairs and eventually settling not on me, but on Aurora.

And then he blurs into a sitting position in the chair across from me, elbows resting on the table and face clutched in his hands, grinning painfully wide. "Well, well, well… if it isn't Hazel's errant little assassin! My, my, but the stories about you have been a joy."

I feel the urge to reach for Aurora, but suppress it- both because the blade is broken, and because it would not make any difference in how long it took for Tyrian to eviscerate me.

Instead, I gather the nerve to meet his gaze and ask, as calmly as I can, "Are you going to kill me?"

He snorts- then giggles- then breaks out into open laughter, rolling his forehead on one forearm while slapping his other hand against the table repeatedly. "Me? Kill-" he breaks back down into laughter. "Oh, the… the very thought… No," he says, going back to calm and composed in an instant, wiping a tear from his eye, "What fun would there be in that?"

I lean back, slightly more at ease.

Callows doesn't seem to need another person to hold a conversation- he just marches forward, playing to an invisible audience. "No, I do very much doubt that I shall be commanded to end your life- unless, of course, you seek vengeance for our dear, cunning little friend Torchwick?"

I flinch, hand tightening into a fist on the table. "What?"

"But then again, his passing was Cinder's plan, not the Queen's," Tyrian muses, laying his chin down on a splayed hand in repose. "Although, the Taurus brat had equal hand in it- and the finger that pulled the trigger belonged to one of Ozpin's!" He starts cackling again. "Oh, you do have your work cut out for you, don't you? Enemies in the Kingdoms, the Fang, and the legions of our Queen? Such a tangled web, full of so many spiders- how is a fly like you to find your revenge?"

I bite my lip- a nervous habit that I've been getting worse and worse with as the stress of the last few months has piled up. At least it keeps me from saying anything I'll regret.

Tyrian reaches across the table and pokes me on the nose. "But you do make for such an adorable little fly…" I hold myself still as granite, instincts screaming so loud that I'm all but paralyzed, even as his fingers stray up and yank the black bandage off from my eye. Upon seeing it, he pauses for a moment, and then starts another round of giggling like it's the funniest thing he's ever seen in his life. "Oh, this is simply… wonderful!"

I reach down towards my pack for a new bandage, but freeze when I feel the point of his stinger press up against my hand, and then slide past it and gently push my arm back up onto the table.

"Oh, the Queen will most certainly wish to know about this," Tyrian crows, an expression of rapture flickering over his face before he snaps his gaze back down onto me: "And for you, blood of the Goddess… I suppose I'll make things a touch easier for you…"

His face shifts to thoughtful, and he looks upward as if searching the ceiling for answers. "Hmm… now, despite her failure, our friend Cinder has the favor of the Queen at the moment, so attacking her?" A tiny giggle bubbles out through his mouth. "Oh, no, that would be a most terrible idea. However… if she were to meet with another failure…? Of course, I would not lift a finger to harm her, to be sure… but if, say, a little fly took their opportunity for revenge on the spider fallen from its web?"

Callows breaks down cackling again, throwing his head back over the backrest of his chair, but I remain silent. Eventually his laughter dies down and he rises to his feet, looking down at me with a sickly smile: "Remember, little fly, stray not into the spider's web. Have patience, wait for our spider to fall from grace, and then…"

He stalks off, another round of laughter wracking his frame.

I don't relax until the door swings shut behind him, and even then I wait a good minute or two before tying a new bandage over my eye, snatching up my things, and walking off. I spare a glance- just one- at the barkeep, laying in a pool of blood, ostensibly for the sole sin of helping to bring a serial killer to justice. He might have had some slight prejudiced instincts, but he overcame them, allowed me a haven to rest in- and he definitely didn't deserve that.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," Arnaut murmurs.

I blink, the words striking some chord within me, but shake my head to erase the barkeep from my mind as I head out towards the blacksmith's shop that I noticed on my way into the village.

When I reach the place it's just being opened up, so I patiently wait outside. It's only then that the oppressive veil of worry lifts enough that I start to grow curious, turning to Arnaut: "Arnaut, what in the living fuck was that guy talking about? I thought Cinder was the Queen, or whatever- does this mean she's just an Enforcer for some even bigger nutjob?"

Arnaut works his jaw- his own nervous tic. "I… am not supposed to speak about that."

I half-grin. "Dude, seriously? I think your NDA probably expired when you died."

He doesn't lighten up at all at the joke, instead seeming only to grow more grim. "Cinder was… ostensibly a pawn of…" Arnaut shakes his head. "These things are the kind of secrets that can- that have destroyed entire Kingdoms, Dreki. Once you know, you can't go back."

I snort, but the solemnity in his tone causes my mirth to fade quickly. "What? Is there some kind of secret enemy that only Huntsmen know about? Wouldn't that have leaked a long time ago?"

"No," Arnaut replies. "The existence of… the Queen… is something only Huntsman Academy headmasters and the very closest members of their inner circles know about."

"Why?"

"Because…" Arnaut works his jaw again, extraordinarily reluctant to talk about this- to a degree that makes me hungry to know why. "The knowledge, if leaked now, would cause mass panic and fear, which in turn would lead to a disastrous surge in Grimm activity."

"What? What is it?" I ask, curiosity growing by the second.

"It's… look, you must promise never to tell-"

"Yep, got it," I affirm.

"I'm serious, Dreki."

"So am I."

Arnaut lets out a long, painful sigh, and then begins: "Since the dawn of humanity, the Grimm have gnawed away at us, threatening our people and destroying our cities. Most people believe the Grimm to be simply a fact of nature, mindless animals… but this isn't true.

"The Grimm have a leader, a Queen, called Salem. She has been alive for centuries at least, ever-plotting to bring the Kingdoms down. Ozpin, the Headmaster of Beacon Academy, led a tight-knit faction of his inner circle and those closest to the Headmasters of Shade, Haven, and Atlas, waging a silent war against the Grimm Queen's pawns.

"While the greater war has always been known- Huntsmen and city guards fighting against the Grimm- this other, invisible war is over much more specific stakes.

"Each of the four Huntsman Academies is built over a Vault, and within each Vault lies a Relic- the Crown of Choice in Beacon, the Lamp of Knowledge in Haven, the Staff of Creation in Atlas, and the Sword of Destruction in Shade. While each of the Relics individually have earth-shattering power, if all four are combined, the wielder could change Remnant itself.

"However, the only way to open a Vault is with the power of a Maiden. There are four Maidens, and each one is tied to a specific Vault- Fall for Beacon, Spring for Haven, Winter for Atlas, and Summer for Shade. Maidens, too, have incredible magical powers tied to their season… powers that are passed on when they die, to the young girl last in their thoughts.

"Those of us who followed Ozpin fought tirelessly to keep Salem's human and Faunus minions from laying hands on the Maidens- and by extension, the Relics. The Fall of Beacon was not merely a terrorist attack; it was a cover to kill Ozpin himself, obtain the powers of the Fall Maiden, and gain access to the Vault of Choice.

"Given that Ozpin and the Fall Maiden both died, and we received no updates, I'd assumed the worst- that Salem's pawn Cinder had achieved her goal."

He finishes the long-winded story and looks at me expectantly.

I don't really have anything to offer, so I shrug and walk into the now-open blacksmith's shop.

"Wait, what-"

I ignore Arnaut and step up to the counter, placing Aurora down in front of the blacksmith- a burly, dark-skinned Faunus man with a thick black beard and two white horns emerging from his head.

"I'm gonna be honest, I haven't done this before. How much to… I don't know, fix this?" I ask, gesturing vaguely towards the mangled blade.

He looks down at it, and then up at me. "Is that thing… made of gold?"

"With a titanium core," Arnaut adds.

"With a titanium core," I repeat. "Why?"

"Gold is… one of the softest, most expensive metals…" The blacksmith scratches behind his head. "I'd be hard-pressed to think of a worse candidate for a weapon to be made out of, to be perfectly honest…"

I shoot Arnaut a look, and he smiles knowingly. "Gold might be soft, but when properly reinforced with Aura the strength of the metal used doesn't matter very much… and gold is the best Aura conductor out of any metal. In fact, if you channel Aura properly through it, it will be stronger than most other metals due to how well it conducts, not to mention the extra attacking power. Furthermore, gold is extremely dense, which- as I've mentioned- means a high weight, which in turn translates to a higher striking force."

I do my best to relay that to the blacksmith. "Uh… my Aura keeps it from breaking, mostly, and gold weighs a lot and conducts Aura well."

The blacksmith just raises an eyebrow and looks down at the twisted metal.

I snort- I like this guy. "Yeah, that one's on me. I fucked up and lost my grip on it, and without the Aura to reinforce it, well…"

He nods and picks the blade up, momentarily surprised by the weight- What is it with these people? It's not like it looks light- but adjusting his grip and examining it for a minute or two. Finally, he comes to a verdict: "Well, you got lucky- nothing actually broke off, so you don't need to pay for replacement materials. This being gold, that might've cost an arm and a leg."

"Okay," I respond, crossing my arms. "So, how much?"

"It'll be five hundred Lien to get it back in working condition, one thousand to keep the detailing on the sides."

I choke. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says, crossing his own arms. Suddenly, his no-nonsense attitude doesn't seem so appealing.

"That's… even more than highway robbery. That's highway grand larceny," I splutter. "You just said gold was the softest metal, right? Why does it cost that much to… I don't know, bang it back into shape?"

"Because, ma'am, I gotta recalibrate my forge to work with something way softer than normal, and get it up to 2,000 degrees. Gold's a bitch to work with. Not to mention it's a Huntsman weapon, so it's probably got some pointlessly complicated shit inside of it "

I sense haggling here would be pointless. "I… fine," I grumble, making a disgusted noise. "I'll take the five hundred Lien option. Just get it working-"

"Dreki, you must fix it properly," Arnaut insists. "Pay the full cost- if he simply flattens the blade back into place, then the detailing will be mangled beyond repair."

I roll my eyes, whispering my response. "What, next are you gonna tell me that the fucking leafy vine carving helps with the aerodynamics, or triggers Grimm instincts to freeze them, or-"

Arnaut shrugs. "No, it's just very expensive and looks pretty."

I laugh, drawing an odd look from the blacksmith. "I think you and I have very different opinions on what 'pretty' means."

"Regardless," he insists, "I won't teach you any further if you wield a mangled blade."

My mirth evaporates. "You're bluffing."

"Try me," Arnaut replies, matching my gaze.

After an intense few seconds, I look away first, and raise my tone back to a normal speaking volume: "Fine. Hey, mister, I changed my mind. Can you redo the detailing?" The man seems slightly annoyed, but nods. "Okay, so then… how long is that gonna take?"

He sighs. "A couple of hours at least, kid. Why don't you go see if there's any Huntsman missions available nearby, assuming that last round of kids didn't steal 'em all…"

"Last round?" I ask, curious.

He hesitates, and then sighs. "Yeah, a couple of Huntsmen and Huntress students, looked like. They friends of yours?"

I rack my mind back to the Reclaiming Vale mission, and what Qrow said to the two teachers- didn't he mention Ruby heading to Mistral?

I could be only a few days behind Little Red.

"Might've been," I say, trying to act casual despite the fact that my heart is starting to race along with my mind. "What- what did they look like?"

The blacksmith grunts. "Uh… the leader was a tall guy, blonde hair blue eyes, had white armor and a white sword for me to upgrade. Then… let's see… a short ginger girl with blue eyes, another guy with black hair and pink eyes, a couple inches taller than you, and then… right, a shorter girl with black hair and silver eyes."

The first takeaway for me is that Little Red isn't there- none of the people he mentioned had dark red hair.

The second takeaway is a reminder of something Tyrian said- Silver eyes. He's hunting one of those Huntresses.

Ah, well, I think, waving goodbye to the man as I step out of the store. "Thanks, sir!"

The moment I leave, Arnaut ambushes me. "Dreki, you must catch up to those children and warn them."

I sigh. "Do you think I can outrun Tyrian? And say I could- do you think I can take him in a fight?"

Arnaut's argument dies before it leaves his mouth, and he looks thoughtful for a moment before sighing. "As much as I hate to say it, you're right."

"There you go," I grin. "We'll make a pragmatist out of you yet. And besides, even if I could, I'm absolutely not declaring war on the… Salem people? Do they have a name?"

"Yes, they-" Arnaut frowns. "Hold on, is that truly your response?"

"Yeah…?"

"So you hear about an age-old war between good and evil, find out that there's a secret villain trying to bring all humanity under her thumb… and your response is just somehow even more apathy?"

"Yes," I confirm.

Arnaut slowly shakes his head. "You don't resent- no, of course you don't. You aren't worried- no, wait, of course you aren't." He seems lost in thought for a stretch, and then snaps back to attention: "You don't want revenge for Roman's death?"

My expression darkens. "I told you not to bring him up."

Arnaut nods silently, yet…

I still feel an implacable urge to explain myself to him. "If anything, this is just more proof of… Roman's… attitude. Why waste your life fighting a war that you can't win?"

"What are you talking about? We win by eradicating Salem."

"You just said she was immortal."

Arnaut blinks, opens his mouth, and then closes it again, looking concerned. "I'd… assumed that she was immortal, but not invincible. But…"

I narrow my eyes. "Doesn't that seem a little sketchy? You mean to tell me that she's been alive for thousands of years, resisted by the strongest fighters of Remnant for all that time, and yet no one got in a lucky shot? No one poisoned, stabbed, crushed, or blew her up?"

"It does… seem slightly far-fetched, now that you mention it," Arnaut admits. "And her being unkillable would also explain Ozpin's endless insistence that the Relics and Maidens be hidden rather than used against her."

I sigh, pulling out Arnaut's Scroll and pulling out the Huntsman job board for the area. There was something called a Petra Gigas wreaking havoc in the area, but apparently the last group of Huntsmen dealt with it. That leaves… three separate Beowolf packs causing trouble along the road to the east, but I mark all those as dealt with, having wiped them out myself.

The only other option is a Nevermore sighted around the north of the town.

I sigh and mark it as in-progress. Without the ranged option of Aurora, it's going to be a colossal pain in the ass to bring the thing down. "Of all the times not to have my sword…"

"Every battle is a lesson," Arnaut recites back. "This one will just be on unarmed ground-to-air combat."

Four hours later, as I plummet to the ground atop the rapidly dissipating corpse of the Nevermore, I decide that I have in fact learned several important lessons.

Then I brace my Aura before plowing into the ground hard enough to tear a two-meter-deep groove through half of a wheat field.

When I climb to my feet, spitting out fragmented grain and dirt, I sort out the lessons into the order I learned them:

The first lesson was: don't take missions to track down Grimm. If you know where they are, and can defend a location, sure, that's fine- but actually finding them, especially ones that can fly at ridiculous speeds, is a fucking herculean effort. I stomped through most of a forest before I found the thing's nest.

The second lesson I learned was just reaffirming that Nevermore are fucking assholes. They're huge, they pelt you with ranged attacks from ridiculously far away, and you can't gap close on them because they're so high up in the air. Most conventional firearms essentially just tickle them, too. In my current state, the only option left for me was to try to thread the needle and jump up to catch it with my bare hands.

The third lesson I learned was that, if you are going blow a fifth of your Aura to jump half a kilometer into the sky, it's best to figure out how you're planning to get back down before killing your ride. That particular lesson became very clear on the way down, and was driven into my head when my head was driven into the dirt at a hundred meters per second.

"Well, that was perhaps the least graceful Nevermore-fighting strategy I have ever seen, but…" Arnaut shrugs. "I suppose it worked out."

I just keep spitting out chunks of dirt and shattered wheat stalks, cursing under my breath, and then look up to see a very surprised-looking farmhand.

"Oh. Uh…" I gesture to the devastation behind me and force a winning grin. "I dealt with your Nevermore problem." The farmhand- a fourteen-year-old kid- just stares at me wordlessly, and I shrug and pull out my Scroll, checking the map back to the village- and then curse. The Nevermore carried me an extra two kilometers out from where I'd found it.

I take off in an Aura Sprint, blowing right by the confused kid.

Along the way, Arnaut seems to get confused by something. "Dreki, why… do this?"

"You mean kill the Nevermore?" I let a mildly self-conscious smile split my face. "To be totally honest? To kill some time, and get some training in."

Arnaut grins at that. "Careful, Dreki. You'll become a regular Huntress at this rate."

"Yeah, right," I grunt.

"Killing Grimm for fun is how it starts," he continues, grin making it clear that he's joking. "Next thing you know, you're enlisted in some old Vale headmaster's secret thousand-year war against an immortal goddess of the Grimm and her army of serial killers."

A month ago, this conversation, these jokes, might have been awkward, but… things have changed. I've grown to understand him enough to realize that he's not trying to manipulate me into throwing my life away, and he's grown to understand me enough that he knows I'm never going to be a Huntress. I've stopped distrusting him, and he's stopped trying to change me.

With that said, he's still willing to pass onto me his Semblance, his sword, his skills, and I'm still willing to go a fair bit out of my way to kill a few Grimm or save a few people for him.

I suspect that the newfound peace between us partially explains the exponential growth in my training. No amount of practice explains how quickly I've been writing moves to muscle memory and developing instincts. My Aura grows, too, but so does his within me, not by training, but simply increasing incrementally day by day.

I reach Tsubaki in about half an hour, making straight for the blacksmith's shop fast enough that I don't even notice the reaction of the town's inhabitants.

Arnaut, however, does. "Dreki… be careful."

"Huh?"

"I think the townsfolk found the corpse of that innkeeper," Arnaut mutters. "Considering that you're… well…" he gestures in the vague direction of my entire body. "It seems likely that they might suspect you."

"Shit," I mutter, looking around and noticing now the seething resentment, distrust, and grief in the townspeople around me. I really hope I don't have to-

Arnaut reads my mind. "Dreki, if they attack you, run. They won't be able to catch you; there's no reason to slaughter them."

"If they file a police report with my description, I'm going to be dodging Huntsmen and bounty hunters for years," I reply without emotion, pushing through the door to the blacksmith's shop before he can reply.

The Faunus man looks up towards me with dead eyes. "You're back."

"Yeah," I mutter, a worried feeling building up. I instinctively check around the room, behind me, scan the blacksmith for weapons…

"You lookin' for something?" he asks.

"No," I reply, biting my lip, increasing pressure as I notice the people beginning to gather outside. Fuck. "I mean, yes. My weapon, please?"

"Yeah, uh…" the blacksmith sets his mouth in a hard line. "Some of us had a talk while you were gone, and we want you to answer some questions before you touch a weapon." He opens a small door and steps out from behind the counter, gesturing for me to follow him.

My canine pierces my lip and draws blood, which I suck away, standing still in place, even as the blacksmith steps out the doors to join the crowd.

"Arnaut?" I don't meet his eyes, an uncomfortable feeling still lingering when I ask him for help to this degree. "What… what do I do?"

He recognizes my hesitancy and answers calmly. "You aren't in any real danger, Dreki. You can always run away, but…" he shakes his head. "Considering that you got away cleanly for openly murdering me in broad daylight, I'm going to be a little… let's call it frustrated if you end up being convicted in absentia for the one murder you didn't actually commit."

His words do a decent job at pushing back my anxiety, but a frustration lingers. "Forgive me if I'm not confident in them giving due process to a Faunus outsider."

Arnaut sighs, glancing out at the crowd, which is now growing restless and calling for me to come out. "Honestly, neither am I, but… they can't harm you. Just try to defend yourself as best as you can- what the risk?"

When he puts it like that…

I force my grin back onto my face and push my way back out in front of the shop, sweeping a glance over the gathered townsfolk. None of them have unlocked Auras or even automatic Dust weapons.

The one at the front and center, a tanned, aging man in a red robe with a necklace of large green prayer beads, speaks in a soft yet authoritative voice: "Hello, outsider- I hope we haven't alarmed you, gathering like this."

"Not at all," I reply through gritted teeth. Bad. Be more convincing. "Uh… may I inquire as to the… reasoning behind this… whatever it is?"

The leader frowns. "Well… we were hoping you could clear up some questions we had, regarding the murder of our late innkeeper Hui?"

I glance down the street to my right. I can snag the blacksmith and book it, force him to tell me where they're keeping Aurora-

"Dreki," Arnaut says, stepping into my vision. "Just… give them the benefit of the doubt. I promise, you won't always be disappointed."

Tentatively, I turn back to the mayor and swallow. "I'd… actually like to report what happened there, sir."

He nods, expression still unreadable. "You would?"

"Yeah, I…" I look around at the crowd and see too many faces of people already having decided that I'm guilty. Maybe if I lie, make it more convincing-

"Dreki, just tell them the truth," Arnaut says. He's too good at picking up what I'm thinking.

"Fine," I mutter, crossing my arms and meeting the mayor's gaze head-on. "Yesterday morning, I happened upon a farmer traveling in towards this village, being attacked by Beowolves. I dealt with that pack, as well as three more on the way here, and by the time I arrived it was the middle of the night. I spoke to the innkeep, and due to there only being one room left open, I opted to give it to the farmer's family, and slept in the inn's restaurant."

I can see too many people looking at me through lidded eyes, not believing a word I'm saying-

But then someone speaks out in my defense- the farmer. "Listen, folks- you know me, you know my family. I've been selling my goods here for twenty-one years, and you better listen when I tell you: the girl's telling the truth. She saved my life, the lives of my wife and my children- she killed a Beowolf bigger n' a building with her bare hands!"

More murmurs, but these are mixed now, some people swayed by his support.

He's not finished. "Then, once she was done, after I told her my cart was broken, she personally-" He chokes on his words when he sees my expression, but forges onwards. "Er- personally beat another one of the Beowolves into submission and forced it to pull my cart into town!"

More murmurs, but with the edge going to the positive side.

One person calls out "No way!" but the farmer turns a deadly glare towards him.

"Oh? Then look at my cart!" He points across the street, where the aforementioned cart is sitting, without horses and with the bridling ripped apart, bloodstains from the dead animals all over the front of it. "Explain how the cart came to this town, if not pulled by the Beowolf, which then died and disappeared once it arrived!"

"She must've pulled it herself!" Half the group immediately turns towards the person who said that, and he colors and waves his hands defensively. "No, wait, it's-"

"Faunus being bridled and pulling carts?" the farmer shouts, his face a perfect mask of outrage despite the raging hypocrisy he's spewing. "What century do you think this is?"

I hide my snort of amusement, but Arnaut doesn't bother to disguise his laugh.

The mayor seems to regain control over the crowd and turns to face me: "If we take what you say thus far to be true, it still doesn't explain how Hui died."

I nod and continue, a little bit more confident in myself: "When I awoke, a scorpion Faunus named Tyrian Callows had entered the bar, and he speared the innkeeper through the neck with his tail before I could do anything. After that, he slipped away."

At my mention of Tyrian Callows, seemingly the entire crowd dissolves into murmurs, but the mayor quiets them all with a wave of his hand before responding: "Tyrian Callows was caught in this very village, seven years ago, partially due to the actions of Hui himself… However, I was informed several years ago that he'd escaped. In addition, I'm told the wound to Hui's neck did carry traces of poison, which would make sense if the murder was committed in the manner you stated. Tell me, though, if your story is the truth- why did you make no effort to stop Tyrian?"

Arnaut immediately cuts in. "Ah, Dreki, as nice as it was to hear you speak honestly, in this specific case it might be best to… pad the truth a little bit."

I'm already on it. "Well… he was extremely strong, especially with my sword broken, but… after our exchange, I was unable to stop him from getting away." There, it sounds like he just wasn't particularly interested in fighting me, and just left, right?

"You forced Tyrian Callows, the Butcher of Byakura, to flee?" The mayor finally gives me a reaction- skepticism. "Tyrian has ended the lives of several adult, fully-trained Huntsmen and Huntresses."

I pale at the fact that he interpreted my vagaries as a declaration of triumph, unsure how to twist the story any further without outright lying. "Uh… I'm not confident I would have won, had the fight gone on any longer." Or at all. "It was his choice to leave- I think he might have had specific business with Hui, and didn't particularly care to waste his time with me." There. Perfect.

The mayor nods slowly, and then bows his head. "Your explanation is… convincing. I'd like to apologize on the behalf of the village of Tsubaki for our suspicions- please, allow our blacksmith to complete your order."

The crowd disperses all at once, and I nod and turn around, striding back into the shop behind the Faunus blacksmith.

He reaches down under the counter and unlocks something, before hauling Aurora back up and dropping it down in front of me: "Here you go, kid. Good as new."

I look it over- the blade's been fixed back into its original shape, but on top of that, the ornate carved-in detailing that traces its way up both sides like a winding, twisting vine, thorns and leaves poking out from it, has been filled by a charcoal-black material.

The blacksmith frowns and reaches for Aurora. "Oh, sorry about that, kid, I got distracted by… all that back there, I guess I forgot to get the tungsten alloy inset taken out. Here, I can-"

I place a hand over Aurora before he can take it back. "No," I say, "I actually like it."

He hesitantly nods, and steps over to a cash register. "Sure thing, kid. Now, your total's gonna be a thousand Lien."

I fork over a red 1,000 Lien card, which he accepts with a low whistle. "Pleasure doing business."

"Thanks," I reply, stepping out of the shop and back onto the road.

Even after I've left the town behind, though, and the sun's started to set, I hold Aurora out before me, studying the black patterns twisting along the blade. The blacksmith didn't perfectly maintain the original patterns of soft, curving lines and lush leaves- whether it was by his personal preference, or because of a cruder level of craftsmanship, the new ones are more jagged, with thorns poking out of them and the black inset of the leaves cracked in places to appear as though the leaves are dried up, dead.

It feels… just a little bit more like the blade is actually mine. The first step was when Arnaut gave it its new name, but even then that was towards the weapon being both of ours, a shared venture. These new patterns, replacing delicate vine with gnarled briar, are actually purely of me. It's a nice feeling.

I do eventually sheathe it behind my back, and then turn onward towards the next town on my way to Higanbana: Shion Village.

(A/N) I have historically struggled with using other peoples' characters believably. I'm worried that my characterization of people like Qrow and Tyrian might be off, especially in their speech patterns- let me know if there's anything I need to work on there. That goes triply for the Redemption CRDL; I'd love advice from anyone who's read that fic on how I managed to translate them.

In case anyone hasn't noticed by now, a trend is going to be me expanding on things, and the Branwen Tribe is no exception. It's ridiculous that one group of mediocre, Auraless fighters living in tents surrounded by a wooden palisade has survived and preyed on Mistral villages for decades without a couple of half-competent Huntsmen stomping them out.

Dreki's reasoning for figuring out that Salem is immortal right off the bat is the same as mine was- nothing exists unscathed for thousands of years without being near impossible to destroy.