(A/N) I can't be sorry enough about the unplanned six-month hiatus. Between university, my job, and family issues, I barely had time to breathe for half a year. However, with college on break and my family issues mostly resolved, I should be good to go back to regularly uploading for the forseeable future! Thank you to anyone who's bearing with me thus far. I've done some reconstructive work on prior chapters, but it's mostly surface-layer stuff, without any substantive plot or character changes.

Volume I | Part IV

"This isn't about you! This is about the Schnee family name, and your apparent insistence on dragging it through the mud! You couldn't possibly understand the lengths I've gone to in order to keep this family where it is. You think running off like your sister is going to make the Schnee name stronger? You're wrong. Siding with her only divides us."

- Jacques Schnee to Weiss Schnee

My newfound peace is almost immediately tested when I arrive at Mistral Central Station only to find that, apparently, the train to Argus has derailed somewhere along the track due to a Grimm attack. Then, when told to go repair the breakdown, the rail workers' union took their opportunity to strike for better working conditions and pay. Their representatives are here in the station even now, handing out pamphlets.

Knowing how Mistral runs its bureaucracy, I stalk right up to the ticket window, briefly eyeing the map up on the wall before buying myself a ticket to Wind Path. It's the closest rail destination to Argus that doesn't make use of the now-broken line.

Arnaut's confused. "Dreki, it's going to be at least two weeks' journey on foot from Wind Path to Argus."

"Yep," I reply, finding a spot behind a pillar towards the back of the large station to wait the thirty minutes before my train comes in.

"And the train from Mistral to Argus only takes a day and a half."

"Yes."

He's mildly exasperated that I'm not getting his point. I am, but I'm also worn out enough that I'd rather give one-word answers. "So the only way this makes sense if you think it will be twelve days before the train is fixed."

I realize I'm not going to be able to stay succinct, and sigh. "At least. It's probably going to be a few weeks before the workers give up."

"Before the workers-" Arnaut hesitates. "Are you saying that management won't negotiate? I can't think they can afford to lose such an important gravrail line for the foreseeable future…"

At that, I snort out a laugh. "What? Why wouldn't they?"

"Because it costs them money, and if they wait long enough, a competitor will…" Arnaut trails off at my expression. "You haven't studied much economics, have you?"

"No," I sigh, "But I do know that the Lower Mistral workers try something like this every few years." I remember the time it happened while I was still on the streets. The larger strokes of the situation meant little to me then; all I knew was that there was suddenly a lot more competition from newly unemployed adults and kids over food and spots to beg. That was before I learned that begging for anything with a face like mine was a fool's errand. "It never works," I continue, bringing myself back into the present. "I don't get why they think quitting their own jobs is somehow going to convince the people on top to change anything."

"Economics was never my best course," Arnaut muses, "But I believe that the theory goes that, if no one will work for the lower wage, then the company has no choice but to raise it."

"Why?"

"Because then they aren't making any money."

I shoot him an incredulous look. "But neither are the workers, and they're the ones starving."

"You aren't wrong," Arnaut concedes. "But if another company was to offer the higher wage, then they'd start making much more."

"What other company?" I ask blankly.

"A rival…" Arnaut trails off, and then raises his eyebrows. "Oh."

I learned most of what I know about Mistral from Roman, after he got me out, so it's got a cynical bent to it. "Yeah. Anything that the Lionhearts don't own around here, is owned by their friends. Why would they want to compete with each other?"

Arnaut falls quiet. "In Vacuo, the Council prevents-"

I laugh. "The Council? Who the hell do you think is on the Council, Arnaut? Union types?"

He falls silent and starts working his jaw, clearly annoyed not by me but by the simple truths of how corrupt Mistral is. I'm not nearly as fazed, having long since come to terms with the facts- or at least, come to terms with relegating my feelings about the facts to the back of my mind.

Eventually the gravrail slides in, and I make my way on board.

Annoyingly, there weren't any single cabins available. I walk down the length of the thing dreading whoever it is I'm going to have to put up with for the six hour trip, only to find the two-person cabin empty when I arrive.

At first, I just assume they're late, yet as time passes and the train begins to hum with the activation of the Gravity Dust stabilizers, I allow hope to seep through. Maybe they didn't sell the other ticket, and-

A girl comes sprinting in through the door to the cabin just as the train starts moving, causing her to stumble and fly into me from behind.

I yelp and instinctively back kick her away from me, but she twists out of the way of my leg with a sudden, surprising grace. The grace of someone trained and capable of using Aura to amplify their reflexes. I realize with a surge of horror that this isn't a civilian like I'd thought- the 'stumble' was likely just a way to get in close without raising my guard.

I push against the side of the cabin with my far arm to slam my shoulder into the girl. In the confined space she can't avoid the impact and is sent staggering back, opening her eyes just in time to see my fist arcing in towards her face. She yelps and again moves faster than she should be able to, flowing around my strike-

But then she raises her palms in a peacemaking gesture. "Apologies! You have my apologies. I'm very sorry I ran into you like that."

I get my first good look at her. She's around my age, close to my height and- surprisingly- build, with the same cording of muscle around her exposed elbows and knees. Her skin isn't as pale, though, and where my dirty ash-colored hair only has traces of red in it, hers is deep red through and through, combed and bound back from her face except for small tendrils allowed to fall down at the edges, framing it.

When she looks at me, it's with eyes of a startlingly bright green that seem filled with genuine apology… and something more, too, just underneath the surface.

Curious, I offer a hand to her. "Dreki."

She accepts it. "Nyssa Nikos."

Nikos. She must be the girl that Jakkar mentioned, a sister of Pyrrha's. She lost in the semifinal round of the Winter Championship, if I recall correctly. I briefly consider bringing it up before remembering that I have no reason to talk to this girl, instead turning away and taking a heavy seat down upon the bunk beside my gear.

I know better than to get my hopes up immediately, so they aren't there to be dashed when she goes further: "Just 'Dreki,' huh?"

I grunt a sound of assent, not bothering with words.

Unfortunately, Nyssa doesn't take the hint. "So, what do you have in Wind Path?"

I slowly raise annoyed eyes to meet hers. "Personal business."

"Which is-" At this last bit, I actually shake my head slightly, which she manages to pick up on: "Uh, do you not want to talk?"

Despite my jadedness earlier, that's enough to bring a glimmer of hope. "…yes," I reply, dropping my gaze back down to my hands.

"Okay, sure!" She drops into her own bed.

Great. Now I'm left to my own devices…

Which is not where I want to be, I realize, as the darker thoughts start creeping like they always do. I shift myself, starting to get up so I can clear my head with some training, only to realize that I can't in this cramped cabin, especially not with another passenger in it. I open my mouth to start something with Arnaut, who's leaning against the doorway, only to close that too upon realizing how insane I'd look speaking to myself.

After an hour of staring at the dark roof above me, I check my Scroll and notice that it's only been twenty minutes, at which point I'm finally able to admit to myself that I made a mistake. It's one I hope to assuage by clearing my throat, and then managing: "So, you made it pretty far in the Winter Championship, huh?"

Nyssa snaps ninety degrees upright in the blink of an eye. "Somewhat, yes, but… I mean, I guess I did fine."

"Fine?"

She sighs, growing somber for the first time I've seen. "I wanted to win for… someone else."

I narrow my eyes, curious now, and rack my brain for a few seconds until it spits up the name Jakkar mentioned- one I'd heard a fair share of times before, and a few more in the months leading up to the Fall. "Pyrrha?"

Upon hearing the name, she twitches almost imperceptibly. When she replies, it's in a voice strained like a rope about to break: "Yes."

"I'm…" I work my jaw, unsure what to say in this sort of situation. All the deaths I've dealt with have been simple facts of life, and the few that weren't? I'm probably the last person on the continent to go to for advice on finding closure. Somehow, though, I suspect telling her to bottle up the grief won't be helpful, so instead I sit silent.

It's awkward enough that I look away, and only know what's happening when I hear a muffled sob. She's got her knees up to her chest and her head cradled between them, obviously doing everything she can to keep quiet. I shouldn't give a shit, and yet… knowing I'm at least partially responsible for the events leading up to her sister's death… I feel the first twinges of guilt that I've felt in a very, very long time.

And the last, because I stomp them out immediately and turn away from the crying girl. It's only a minute or two before she gets enough composure to say, voice now raw, "Sorry about that."

"S'fine," I sigh, giving her my attention once more. Her eyes are red and puffy and her cheeks wet, but there's a certain fierceness in the way she's looking at me, as if challenging me to say something to piss her off. "You lost to the tournament champ, right?"

"Natsu's… well, it's almost not fair, fighting someone who trained under the Crow Knight," Nyssa replies.

"Crow Knight?"

"Another title of Alorn's," Arnaut mutters, predictably more off-put by Nyssa's tears than I. He gathers himself quickly enough to clarify: "It's one of the old Mystrali Zodiac Knights. He was named one in honor of his combat prowess when he helped reclaim Mystral from loyalist holdouts, despite his Vacuese origins."

I nod halfheartedly, then realize I should probably say something to keep the conversation with Nyssa going. "Is just being trained by him so terrifying?"

She squints. "Are you joking? I'd be on edge fighting anyone who ever had lunch with him. I don't know how… Pyrrha managed to beat Natsu twice. He had the fight in three moves."

"Was it that short?"

"No, but he built up a tempo advantage off the bat with a… what's it called, again? Fading Wind?"

"Gambit," I finish, then tense. Thankfully, I avoid anything stronger than a curious squint from her in response.

"I couldn't recover my stance fast enough to keep up with his onslaught afterwards, and he's faster so I couldn't get distance. He messed me up hard enough in the first round that the second one was a cake walk- all he had to do was force even trades of Aura, I'd run out first. I tried something desperate, sloppy, at the end, but that's the kind of thing I'd only ever get away with against someone worse than me."

The way she talks about this makes it all sound so technical, less like the flow that Arnaut extolls about and more a simple calculation. "So you lost because you got greedy with your first two dodges?"

"No!" She snaps, her eyes flaring a little bit. "I- I'm sorry, but… no. If I played it safer moving back, he'd have the momentum just advancing with Lashing Branches. I don't win if I give ground, so I had to dodge sideways, even if that's what he wants with the third strike."

"Then why not block?" I ask, already somehow certain she has an answer.

Sure enough, she looks at me like I'm insane. "Same problem. He just keeps attacking, and with his speed advantage I don't get an opening to break out from my own guard stance."

"She has to parry," Arnaut mutters, eyes closed but fluttering as though he's playing out a whole battle in his mind. "That's how you deal with a quicker opponent. Either that, or striking in a vast area."

"So, why didn't you parry?"

Nyssa bites her lip. "It's… not worth it. If he sees it coming and punishes me for it he has a solid shot to disarm me, and then the fight's over in one round."

"As opposed to over in two?"

I expect her to shrink from my words, but instead she snorts. "You aren't wrong. But you can't see the third strike of the Fading Wind Gambit coming, so I'd just be guessing on the parry timing."

I recall how Arnaut told me to hide the blade in the shadow of my body as I swung it around behind me to gather momentum. "Then you just had no chance at beating him? It was an unwinnable fight, barring some huge mistake?" My thoughts turn to my own encounters with Manhunter Marie, and how utterly hopeless they'd felt.

"No," she says firmly, unexpectedly. I blink and see that fierce spark in her eyes once again. "If Rihfaris Alorn was in my position in that fight, he would have won. That means there has to be a way out of any situation."

I don't respond, and the train car goes quiet for the rest of the journey. This time, I don't so much mind, because the back half of the train's route is distracting enough on its own. We cut a winding path around, atop, and sometimes through towering mountains of ice, some of whose peaks glow blue with exposed Ice Dust.

I wonder why this place hasn't been mined-

"Because it's too dangerous," Arnaut says, startling me slightly. I opt not to respond and simply listen to whatever it is he has to say. "To get people up those slopes in gear bulky enough to keep them alive, and then have them mine those massive crystals? If it were possible, it'd be far from economically worthwhile."

"Why don't they automate it?" I murmur under my breath, quiet enough that Nyssa doesn't seem to notice.

"Dust Resonance. Having that kind of heavy Dust Machinery operating right next to crystals that large would blow half these mountaintops off in the blink of an eye."

The talk about Dust mining strikes a sudden stake into my heart and I kill the subject in its cradle. "Nevermind."

I can tell in Arnaut's tone it was too much to ask for a chance that he not notice, but he once again doesn't press the topic. I'm pleasantly surprised by that, and by how much quicker the thoughts flee when I'm able to look out and see-

Try as I might, I can't suppress the slight noise of shock that comes out of me when I see what lies across a small valley, framed perfectly by the train window.

An entire city- or what might've been one, once, but now the sheer amount of snow piled up through every building and street tells me that no one inhabits it anymore.

"What's- oh," Nyssa sighs, tone dropping somber as she too sees what I see. "Is this your first time laying eyes on Notos?"

"Yeah." I see dark shapes moving around between the buildings, large enough to make out from nearly a kilometer away, and remember what two factors Arnaut listed as determining a Grimm's growth- age, and how much they're able to feed.

"Notos was-"

"Notos was a city up until the Faunus Rights Revolution thirty years ago," Nyssa says. "Up until Faunus soldiers sacked it. The Grimm were right behind them… and now, the rail route stays at least a kilometer away from what's left."

I know I should feel hollow, or horrified, but all I can muster is a sense of awe at the spectacle- a city built into the side of a mountain, now home only to icicles and Grimm. A more pedantic person than me might be able to find a metaphor in there somewhere.

"My grandfather died there," Nyssa continues, without a trace of sorrow. Simply stating a fact. "I never knew him, but they say he tried to match the Crow Knight's feat and hold an entire city gate alone. Unfortunately, he wasn't the Crow Knight."

I see a shift in one of the dark forms and narrow my eyes-

Then the left side of my head feels a crushing pressure, almost gravitationally towing me towards the city, towards the window-

But it's gone as soon as it came, and I'm left only with a throbbing ache between my still-wrapped left eye, and one more question to add to the ever-growing pile.

The rest of the trip is along vaulted concrete bridges that stretch far down into the snowy mists as the mountains around and behind gradually fall away. For long minutes, all that's visible out the train window is thick clouds, and then we punch through the last of it and, for the moment at least, we're alone in the sky. The mountains behind give way to a kilometers-wide stretch of river that runs from Lake Matsu to the sea, yet we keep going ever forwards and slightly upwards along an impossibly long and free-standing bridge.

Then I look ahead and see the even taller mountain ahead of us, and the settlement on a vast flattened cliff most of the way up it. A long black scar carves its way straight down the mountainside and into a second, equally large port down at sea level, from which ships head both out to the ocean and in towards Lake Matsu. A few large, lazier ones snake their way through the support pillars holding us up.

Arnaut steps away from the window at that, and I suppress a sound of amusement. Even dead, he's still worried about the drop. Me? I was born in a mountain, and grew up one misstep from falling off a pipe and going to the Mistral City Depths the hard way. All I feel when I look out and see the clouds even with my eye level is a sense of freedom.

It's only when we disembark that I think to ask Nyssa where she's headed.

"Argus," she says.

"What?" I fail to hide my reactionary disbelieving grin.

"I'm going to Argus." She tilts her head. "You?"

"Doesn't matter. Good luck," I state, stepping back away from her and holding back a surprised grin that she ended up apparently having the exact same idea that I did. However, given how unlikely it is that I'll ever see this girl again, I don't see much point in walking with her to Argus. Especially not if she pries.

A male voice from behind me goes "Funny, all three of us have the same destination, then." I feel a hand on my back and snatch at the offending wrist, catching it in a vice grip and keeping hold of it as I turn around to get a better look.

My adrenaline fades but my suspicion remains as I see that it's no one I recognize- just a wolf Faunus with a pair of snow-white ears peeking out of equally white hair. A pair of piercing blue eyes meet mine and then he grins with larger-than normal canines.

Two can play at that game. I grin right back with sharpened teeth lining either side of my smile, still holding his wrist. "I'm sorry, what did I do to give you the impression I was going to Argus?"

"You're after your… friend, aren't you?" His smile, far more genuine than mine, only widens. "And I'm after you, so funny how that works out, no?"

I dart my eyes back and forth between him and Nyssa, and then drag him off towards the side of the train platform.

When we get there, he's still as cordial as ever. "If you would consider perhaps removing your hand from my arm, that would be great."

"What did you mean, you're after me?"

"I mean what I say," he sighs, before he extends a palm towards me that flickers briefly with the symbol of the White Fang. "You're of interest to us."

"I shouldn't be. You and your crumbling band of morons can fuck off."

"Morons?" He lays the fingertips of his free hand upon his chest in a gesture of offense. "I'll have you know that some of us aren't as dumb as the rest."

"I- what?"

He tilts his head. "I said, some of us weren't stupid enough to follow Adam Taurus on his death spiral. Speaking of which, I saw you trade words with him on your first night in Mistral, right? What did he say to you?"

"Nothing important," I growl.

"Pity. Well, either way, I've got an offer to you from-"

"I thought I told you to fuck off."

He shakes his head slightly in a superior way that incenses me far more than it should. "Trust me, you'll want to hear this."

"Can you offer me Neo, right here, right now?"

"Well, no-"

"Then I don't want to hear it," I snap. "I'm done making deals with you fuckers."

"I'm sorry, who are 'we'?" He raises one perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Malach- Armstro- it doesn't matter," I correct. "I said I'm done. I don't want any part of your stupid revolution, and I'm not doing anything for you."

"I really must-"

"I said to Fuck. Off."

He just shakes his head again and sighs a long breath. "You're holding my arm."

"Oh-" I release him, take a few steps back. "Wait. How long were you following me…"

He's gone. I look around the platform and see no trace of him. Before long, Nyssa approaches, expression and tone both worried.

"Who was that guy?"

"No one," I say, in a tone that makes it clear that I'm not going to talk any more about it.

Luckily enough, she buys it. Unluckily enough, she also gestures off towards the lift that leads down to sea level and asks "Coming?"

"Hmm?"

"Wherever you're headed, I'm fairly certain the only way out of this city besides the gravrail is down there," she says, gesturing down nearly two kilometers to where the sea-level half of Wind Path squats in the shadow of peaks surrounding it. "So, how about it? The next lift goes down in five minutes."

"I'll…" There's no harm in riding an elevator with this girl, right? "Yeah, sure, I'm coming."

"Great!"

It only occurs to me two days out from Wind Path with Nyssa that I wasn't planning on going any further with her. I make a further resolution not to fight in front of her, which I also end up breaking two days later when Beowolves attack our campsite. Four more days of sporadic Grimm exterminating later, I decide that I may as well finish the last of the trip with her.

"That's the Golden Guardian's sword!" she comments after the last Ursa of the most recent batch turns to dust beneath her, dropping back down on her rock and warming her hands over the fire we've built. It'd almost look like nothing had even happened were it not for the scattered black dust blowing in the wind all around the camp, which is scattered from sight in mere seconds. "Man, can't believe it took me four days to notice."

"She said that-"

"I heard," I mutter to Arnaut, knowing Nyssa won't hear it over the howling gale. "Yeah," I say, turning to her, a now well-practiced lie already finding its way to my lips. "He's- he was my teacher."

"I saw," she says, giving me a look of interest. "They say he's one of the only people to master three forms of the Way, and I noticed you using some Spring Stance on those Grimm. Wasn't that designed for two swords, though? Would've thought you'd use Autumn, if that's your only weapon."

I file away that tidbit for later and merely grunt a noise of understanding, warming my own hands in the fire. Even through my coat and hood and Aura and even the winter lining that Arnaut convinced me to buy keeping the heat in, the cold gnaws away at the edges of my body and of the barriers in my mind, carving holes for cordoned-off memories to find their way back.

"What about you?" I ask, anxious for an escape to conversation. "Who taught you?"

She stakes the tip of her spear down in the snow as if to claim her spot, then grins- I think. It's hard to read her expression through the thrashing snowstorm. "My father. Irenus Nikos, Councilman for all of Northern Mistral, president of the Nikos Trading Line, governor of Argus and five-time Mistral Summer Invitational Dueling Champion." That's a lot of words to introduce one person, but she seems to relish each new accomplishment she lists, and recites them very clearly from memory.

"I used to have a title like that," Arnaut sighs. I roll my eyes. "No, seriously. I was 'Arnaut Silvas, the Golden Guardian, Defender of Shade, Protector of Vacuo, Slayer of-"

"Sounds like your dad has a lot of titles," I interrupt, looking up at Nyssa.

"Yeah," she says. "He's incredible. He won the Dueling Championship every year he competed, before the Faunus Revolution happened- he's got a bunch of medals and titles from that, too… And now, he's the most important man in the northern half of Mistral."

I remember her uncle also fought in the Faunus Revolution- for the humans- and tilt my head a little. "And how's your very powerful father feel about the Faunus?"

She meets my unbandaged eye proudly. "My father is fair in how he treats everyone underneath him."

A part of me wants to ask why he fought for the side of unfairness in the war, but I know better than to pick that fight. Much as I'd loathe to admit it, despite being the same age as me, this girl would rip me apart in a fight. If I end up needing to put her down, it'd have to be in her sleep, or else bringing help would be in order.

She seems to notice how long I let the silence drag on and shifts a bit. "What? You don't believe me?"

"No." I sigh and drop my hands back to the fire, which is struggling against the blizzard winds. "I'm sure Irene is-"

"Irenus."

"Irenus is very fair."

Nyssa loses the combativeness in her voice once she hears that. "Good… good. So… you never did tell me why you were headed to Argus, anyway-"

"You're right. I didn't."

A good fifteen seconds pass before she realizes that I'm not expounding any further, and then another fifteen pass after that before she settles on something else to say. "Well, once we get to Argus, I can show you around. I know the city-"

"Thanks, but no thanks," I say, again shutting her down. I lean back a bit into the cold of the storm and let out a long, frosty breath of mist that's snatched away by the wing as soon as it leaves my mouth.

"Oh… okay." If I could see her face, I'd guess Nyssa was frowning. "Uh… you said you were trained by the Golden Guardian, right?"

"Yeah, sure," I reply, again saying the bare minimum and hoping she takes the hint to stop prodding at me for information.

"That must've been incredible."

"You'd think, right?"

At this, she finally makes a noise of frustration, but doesn't seem about to give up any time soon. "So, the last few weeks've had these rumors about a Faunus with a huge sword killing Grimm and bandits all over Mistral, even picking a fight with the Branwens…"

She's either obtuse or stubborn, and either way this isn't going anywhere. I decide to take a firmer hand in guiding the conversation where I want it to go: away from me. "You said you were trained by Irenus Nikos? Does he also fight with two gladiuses- gladii?"

"No…" For a moment, it seems like she won't turn her thoughts to the new subject, but given a few seconds, she finally submits. "No, he doesn't. He uses a sword and shield, like Pyrrha does- did."

"I fought Irenus once or twice," Arnaut comments. "He was a bastard to fight. Had the Nikos Semblance and wasn't afraid to use it on every bit of metal on me." Upon realizing how cryptic his words were, he quickly elaborates. "The Nikos family Semblance is magnetism… though, don't mention that, it's a family secret. They try to hide it, make it seem like they're just unstoppable warriors."

I look up at Nyssa and appraise the twin swords that've folded down to the size of pens, shoved into pouches at her sides. So her speed and accuracy are in part due to an ability to control metal? The gap in skill suddenly seems a lot less-

"She hasn't been using her Semblance in these fights against the Grimm, mind you," Arnaut adds, just to crush my hopes.

"What about you? Does that sword do anything interesting?" Nyssa asks me.

Finally a question I don't have to worry about answering. I yank Aurora out from where I stabbed it into the snowy ground and nestle it up into my arm in ranged mode. "I can fire it or swing it."

"Interesting. Payload must be pretty big with that barrel," Nyssa muses, then hesitates and snaps her hands to her sides. "Something's coming."

"Fun," I say without a trace of fun in my voice, rising and turning with my back to the fire. The dark shapes are already starting to stir in the white blur of the storm. "Let's get this over with quick. I don't want the fire to die."

Nyssa doesn't respond, but as the first of the Beowolves emerges, she hurtles into it with twin shortswords flashing, spinning like a dervish possessed.

I'm equally vicious, though not so graceful, as I hurtle forward with a discharge of Aura from my back foot and punch clean through a Beowolf of my own.

More swarm down, but for fighters of me and Nyssa's caliber, Beowolves aren't enough to be considered a real threat. Even as an Ursa or two mix into the onslaught, I dispatch it easily enough, rolling through its hind legs when it rears up and vertically severing most of its spine in half with a single slash. The hide that apparently gives so many smaller-arms Huntsmen and Huntresses issues is butter before a blade that swings with as much force as Aurora.

More Beowolves approach and fall as quickly as they arrive. I don't intentionally think of Spring Stance, but my limbs simply fall into it as a product of so much training. Cloud, Rain, and Storm all flow into each other smoother than they ever have as I can lose myself in the rhythm of the battle, not having to think tactically against enemies of this caliber.

Unfortunately, I shut off a little bit too much of my brain. The only thing that snaps me back into lucidity is the sudden, earsplitting crack- like thunder, but a thousand times louder and echoing all throughout the mountains around me. I can't even figure out where the sound comes from, as it rumbles on and on for a good thirty seconds, finally coming to a halt just as the last Beowolf disappears from my sight.

Enemies gone, I realize my error- Nyssa and the fire are nowhere to be seen.

"Nyssa!" I shout, but it's hopeless in the howling gale. "Nyssa!"

"Dreki, calm down. The fire's this way," Arnaut advises, gesturing me towards a bluff to my right. I follow along behind him as he walks forward, and keeps walking, and keeps walking-

"You're lost." I stop.

"No, it was here," he insists, gesturing all around us, which appears to be a messy slope of chunky snow. "It's like…"

"It's been buried," I breathe, eyes snapping down in horror. "Nyssa-"

Panic sets in. Panic is bad. Panic brings the Grimm. Loss brings the Grimm. As my breath escape my control, going faster and faster, I notice the shift in the color of my vision. Shit. Losing control out here in this weather could mean freezing to death before I get it back.

I shake my head, rattling my thoughts, forcefully forget about the red-haired girl, dust myself off and walk away.

Arnaut's disappointed as always. "You're not even going to look for her?"

"Why would I? I don't care what happens to her." Maybe if I say it forcefully enough, I'll mean it as much as it sounds like I do. But truth be told, there's an inconvenient little shard of me that mourns the girl- the shard that Arnaut has poisoned into disobeying the rest of me.

Still, for now it's just a tiny shard, and easily ignored.

"But she could still be alive, just buried-"

"Arnaut?" I turn to face him. "I'm not risking… it getting out of hand. Understood?"

He looks at me with confused, imploring eyes. "Surely you can manage it enough just to search for a friend?"

"A friend?" I laugh a brittle laugh. "I knew her for two days. She didn't know anything but a single lie about my past. Friend. Don't make me laugh. And- fuck." The red tinge returns. "Don't make me think about this any more."

"No. You must eventually gain control over this part of yourself, Dreki. What better time than now? I know that if you try hard enough-"

I know from the shift in my vision that my right eye has gone red to match the left. Maybe that'll get him to take me seriously. "Arnaut. Don't ever fucking lecture me on controlling my Semblance."

"But-"

"Fuck off!" I shout the last word as a claw punches a hole in the front of one of my gloves. Not good. The fear of frostbite brings me slightly more to my senses and I slam a palm against my forehead as if knocking the Grimm back into its corner.

When I snap my eye back up to Arnaut, it's returned to a faded grey. "You don't know my limits better than I do, you pretentious fucking asshole. Understand? Don't push me on this."

For what it's worth, Arnaut seems genuinely apologetic as he nods once, slowly. "I understand."

"Good." My mind goes back to Nyssa, one last twinge of regret before she's sealed back into the vault and I turn my thoughts to sword techniques. "Now-"

"Dreki!"

A spear punches through my arm, shattering the bone beneath my bicep and knocking me forward into the snow. I scream in pain before getting brutally yanked by my wound, sailing a good ten meters through the air before rolling to a halt at a pair of stockinged feet.

My eyes drift up to see Manhunter Marie smiling her alien smile down at me. "Little dragon. I have come for my tithe of blood."

"Right… now?" I manage.

"What better time would there be?" she asks, appearing puzzled, tapping a childlike finger to her chin. "After I separated you from that Nikos brat-"

"You!?" I ask, the Grimm flaring briefly in my eye at the news that she started that avalanche.

"Yes." She only smiles wider. "Does this upset you, little dragon? Do you seek vengeance for your fallen comrade?"

"I-" I cough, and the screaming pain in my arm seems to come pounding down on me all at once. "…no."

"Hmm." Marie tilts her head, child's eyes bearing an adult coldness. "Not the heroic type, it would appear. Though, one does prefer their prey non-suicidal, do they not?"

"Just…" I cough again, and then shiver from the cold that seems all the worse now that I'm stuck down in the snow with a bleeding wound. "Just get it… over with."

Marie crouches down and pokes a finger into the hole in my bicep. I think I scream. When she brushes the shattered bone within, I know I almost black out. From there, it's murky- a feeling of warmth leaving me, cold seeping in, all around, taking me back to one too many nights spent shivering in a home carved into the ice itself. Sleep was as much a relief then as it is now- freedom from the pain, from the creeping cold that always seemed intent on shattering me down to my bones.

I wake up much the same as I did last time this happened, slowly, groggily, and to a fully healed body and a spent Life Stim casing on the ground beside me. Whatever's in my blood, Marie's now spent two fortunes keeping me alive so she can get more of it.

I only realize I said the words aloud when Arnaut replies "She's mentioned something about the old Hunters."

"Something about a pact? The old ways? I-"

A gust of wind blows through, and I feel the cold like a needle stabbing into my exposed fingertip and bicep. I rapidly pull more black bandages from my pack and wrap them several times around the exposed areas. It's not perfect, but it'll have to hold.

The rest of the journey towards Argus goes without incident. I handle a few more Grimm attacks on my way down as the mountains turn into hills and then spill out into a brief valley of sorts.

My route takes me through a frozen forest and then into what appears to be a deserted homestead of some sort. I don't do much poking around, just enough to identify that it's already been cleaned out of most of its food and other goodies, by all appearances relatively recently.

However, if there were tracks leading out, they've been covered up by a few days of snowfall at least. Now on a relatively flat road leading to what I assume must be Argus, I begin to move in an Aura Sprint, chewing up multiple meters in each stride as I hit my pace. It also serves as practice in control, as I attempt to draw the Aura I expend on each step back into me. I manage to get most of it back, but not all.

After a few hours, I reach an upward sloping hill. The columns of smoke from somewhere behind it let me know that Argus lies beyond, and the distant sounds of explosions and Grimm tell me all I need to know as to why the smoke is there. The crest of a large arc of hills surrounding the city prevents me from actually seeing the specifics of the Grimm attack, though.

This is probably good for me, I think with a morbid edge. It'd be easy to sneak in Grimm attack or no Grimm attack, but finding- or more likely, stealing- transportation that can get me across the Boreal Sea will be a lot easier.

"Well? Shall we?" Arnaut asks.

I turn and raise an eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"

"That should be a good place to put your Spring Rains to the test, no?"

"Oh." Wasting time on fighting Grimm might cost me my chance to get my ride, but right before I can put those thoughts into words, I realize that I know what Arnaut will respond with: 'You need a pilot, and you're more likely to find one willing to take you after you help save their city.'

"What?" He asks, looking ever so slightly perturbed by my silent stare at him.

"…Nothing," I sigh. The Arnaut in my head is right, though. Neo was the designated getaway driver for everything her, Roman and I did, with Roman filling in in case of her getting incapacitated. He never bothered to teach me, and I never bothered to learn. I'd always assumed I'd get him to teach me someday, but now… now…

Son of a bitch. I know better than to get mired in those thoughts. I tear my mind off of them and set it instead to the mountainside ahead of me, which, while steep and rocky, is child's play compared to what Nyssa and I scaled back on the trek from Wind Path. I remember I'm not supposed to think about her, either, and shake my head. Everything's a minefield.

If I climbed, I'd have to cross the city border, which I'd really rather not do. Even if I managed to break through or hide my identity somehow, I'd still be leaving a trace, a data point in their system that could be used to piece together a profile for me. Roman always said, 'If you can hide something, do.' It was a mantra that carried him a head and shoulders above all the other criminals in Central Vale, lifting him right up to the rank of Overboss. Well, it and the invisible hand of his predecessor.

So, in the spirit of Roman, I take a detour to walk the long way around the bottom of the hills. Eventually I should reach the beach, where I'll be able to sneak into the city through the port and avoid any customs. If there's a ship headed out towards Atlas, I might even be able to sneak directly onto it and stow away for the journey.

Eventually I hit a river and follow alongside it as it winds its way down towards the coastline, dodging over unstable portions of slope and killing a few Beowolves along the way.

As I crest an especially large boulder, two things come into view- the first, a molten red sunset washing across the sky, bathing most of the now-visible Argus bay in orange light. The second, a body, awkwardly braced up against a tree. A trail of red leads up to it from the river's edge, which itself reflects the bloody red of the sunset. The darkest red, though, is in the hair of the figure, from which two small horns curl back and out.

It's Adam Taurus.

"Twin Gods-"

"Hel," I mutter, approaching without much care for stealth. I can tell from the amount of blood pooling around his body that if he isn't dead already, he will be soon.

It's only when I crouch down right in front of him that he drags labored eyes up to meet mine, coughing up a spatter of blood in the process. A sky-blue iris focuses on me only for a moment, and he chokes out "Oh… 't's you."

I note the twin puncture wounds in his chest and wince. "Who the hell did this to you?"

"I…" he heaves each breath with greater difficulty than the last. "Blake, she…"

"He won't-"

"I know he's dying," I snap at Arnaut, not worrying much about how I look to an Adam whose minutes of life remaining I could probably count on my fingers.

"Who…" Adam coughs again, before his eyes unfocus and he slumps back, gazing off into some world in the middle distance.

As I see someone who brought two kingdoms to their knees breathing his last in front of me, a curiosity sweeps through me and before I know it I've reached out to take his shoulder-

A bitter, icy wind sweeping through the mine, freezing to the core- the agony of knowing mother won't make it through the night without heat, giving birth to sister took too much from her- the brutal blow of a guard's nightstick, then another, and then another, until all fades to black- waking pinned down by four guards as the fifth fetches the brand from the fire, then three glowing letters- S.D.C.- then searing agony-

I rip my hand away from him, breathing heavily, furiously trying to stifle the memories that his own thoughts have brought out from me. When I've managed to gather myself enough to look back up, I see he's found one last measure of lucidity.

"Torchwick's… girl."

I tilt my head. "So, 'Blake' do this to you?"

He tries and fails to speak, nods.

I snort out a noise of amusement, but it's a falsehood- inside I'm still churning with long-bridled wrath towards the same people that Adam's hatred was directed towards. The wrath only bucks harder as I notice through the blood and matted hair that he's got a branded scar over his right eye- 'S.D.C.'

The false mirth fades.

I'm sent back to my own bitter cold, my own-

"No," I hiss, wrenching myself back to the present with an awful bite into my lip, resharpening my mind. Sparing a glance towards Arnaut only shows him looking upon the scene with some odd combination of consternation and satisfaction. "You're dying," I say, turning my attention back to Adam.

He looks at me through lidded eyes and doesn't respond, but the heaving breaths still come, one after another. My own disobedient eyes again turn towards the brand on his face, and I have to quell another surge of anger, almost violent enough to make me nauseous.

"You…" he tries to say something else.

In this moment, I feel nothing and everything for him. A trained, emotionless calm battles pity, empathy born of a shared pain, but most dangerously, rage towards a shared enemy.

I can't bear this. Can't see someone who did what I wish I could do, attacked who I wish I could attack, die like this, in some dirty hole in a forest. My hands reach up to the sides of his head, guided not by my rage, but for once by my pity.

His own eyes flare, mouth cracking open-

I twist.

With an awful crack, life flees Adam Taurus's eyes, and he crumples to the ground.

It's there, bathed in the sunset, standing in pooled blood, and looking at the ruined mess of Adam's body, all stained in the color of the Aura of the person I most resent on Remnant, that I decide I despise red.