Chapter 8 - White Knight Reunion
Author's Notes- It's been pointed out by both Blitzgamer from AO3 and TalonScythe from FFN that the Grimm that killed Roman was actually a griffin, not a nevermore. For now, until I find time to go back and edit the chapter with the error (If I can without messing up the site-side formatting rest of the fic that is), I'll just retcon that Ruby named the correct grimm.
In the largest tree, Strong Oak made her perch. She had her quiver tied to a branch that was just above her for easier access so that she could keep her weight on the trunk so that she didn't fall. A long-tailed bluebird landed on Oak's finger while the hymns of the two apprentice conjurers were back at it again cleansing a pocket of corrupted earth aether. She watched Weiss and Sylphie's backs as their hands were joined around a swirling font of dark orange, almost brownish light. Her bow was in her free hand just drooping down past the branch she sat on. The hymns grew into a harmonic chorus as their prayers to the elements intensified. The wind started whipping the branches around. While the bird fled into the sky, Oak shifted her body and drew her bow back. The roegadyn pointed a knocked arrow toward the warbling font.
A floating orange crystal encased in clumps of conglomerate about half the size of a lalafell emerged from the font. The elemental scudded through the air and turned sharply toward Sylphie, only for an arrow to lodge itself through the center of the crystal. Sylphie flinched, but her song didn't waver. The song crescendoed into a dissonant chord, and at once the font sucked into itself and vanished. Both girls left breathless.
"By the twelve! Did you feel that, Weiss?" Sylphie asked between gasps, "It was as if a mass of solid wrath had erupted from the ground. I've never felt anything like it!"
Weiss merely observed the earth elementals as they floated through the grass, a small handful tapped the dirt and made a single flower or a mushroom sprout where they touched. Eventually they all vanished with a pop of a confetti of lights which resembled a pack of fireflies. She marveled at the changes to the environment around her.
"We don't have magic like this where I come from," she let a ball of light rest on her hand for a nonce before it vanished, "I mean, we have semblances and like, six people who can do full on magic."
"That sounds horrible!" Sylphie made a face as if she witnessed an injured deer, "Without conjury, we wouldn't have been able to live here, nor would we have been able to heal our wounds. Even with apoltices made by herbalists wouldn't be enough against a wayward morbol."
The ex-heiress smiled faintly at the girl's worried visage, "We manage, despite our own problems. I don't know what a morbol is, but it can't be any worse than the one time we had to fight a pack of tall, slender, skeleton grim that literally suck your will to fight away."
Sylphie recoiled with fright, "How'd you get out of that one?"
Memories of the apathy flooded Weiss, in spite of her efforts to block them out. That whole day was shrouded in a thick, black mist and muffled screaming up until Ruby's silver eyes startled the pack of grimm back. She remembered everyone running out of Brunswick Farms, and stopping only to throw some wine bottles at the old cellar and setting the alcohol ablaze with a glyph. She remembered really hating that old farm, and at one point telling Ruby to just give up on the lamp. All things that she both regretted and really hated thinking back on.
Back in the present, through a bit of strained fear, she answered Sylphie,"My friend used her silver eyes, and I set the house on fire," she caught Oak's quiver and watched the roegadyn jump down from her perch, "The next thing I knew, we were all piled in a trailer while Yang drove us far away from that creepy house."
Oak took back her quiver and grinned with an offhanded quip, "Sounds like your encounter with those zombies went up in flames."
Weiss gave the archer no indication of acknowledgement of the pun and continued her conversation with Sylphie, "There was also the hound that could grow wings, speak, and was actually a person inside. That was terrifying," as she recounted, memories of chasing Salem's talking hound grimm haunted her. She found herself silently thanking the brothers that her mother remembered that she could summon, too. Weiss looked at Sylphie, who seemed both afraid and impressed with her tales of previous grimm.
Realizing that her joke fell flat, Oak pulled out a bag of bird feed and sprinkled it into the grass. A murder of crows flew down from their usual flight and eagerly scarfed up each dried berry and seed their beaks could reach. She watched over them by looking over her shoulder a few times to make sure no rival animals were coming to take their food, nor any predatory creatures who would make a meal out of them. After each morsel of bird food was claimed, each crow left two or three old tailfeathers for the roegadyn before returning to the skies. Oak scooped up each feather and turned each one over with her fingers.
A re-imagined scenario about how much easier both encounters would have gone had Weiss had conjury in both instances painted itself into her imagination. She pictured herself using stone spells to build an actual house so that they didn't have to stay in that accursed farm. Next, she imagined helping Qrow and Ruby hunt down some wild game by making traps with fluid aura to push snow into strategic pits. That way they didn't have to eat suspect canned food that tasted like metal in spite of the extra salt added. If she had wind magic back when they dealt with the hound, she could've been the one to blow over the statue onto the hound after Ruby stunned it with silver eyes. Then she would've had a morphing hound summon which could've been really useful. Suddenly, her thoughts came to a halt: She only knew that the hound could grow wings because Yang told her as much when she reunited with the group later. Her semblance could recreate grimm that she defeated, but could it replicate features that she didn't personally witness? Probably not.
A burning question snapped Weiss out of her daydreams. She asked Sylphie, "Is it possible to use conjury outside of the Shroud?"
"It should be," confirmed Sylphie, "While I've never been outside the Shroud, myself, I know that many a conjurer joins an adventuring party or free company shortly after learning from the guildmaster. My father used to aid a hamlet out in Thanalan."
When Oak was satisfied with her collection of feathers, she took out an old knife and cut down some thin branches. She grabbed about fifteen thin branches and used her knife to whittle them down into straight shafts while she watched Sylphie and Weiss talk about magic. She sat in the center of a fairy ring of mushrooms as she started working the branches into a set of uniform arrow shafts.
The wheels in Weiss's head were turning as many ideas were a stampede barreling through her. "Okay," she confirmed, "Can you also use other elements besides wind, water, and earth? Say…" she looked down at her side pouch which held a variety of elemental crystals and a vial of dust brought just in case, "Fire?"
Sylphie tapped a knuckle to her chin. She answered, "As far as I know, not with conjury alone. Thaumaturges can manipulate fire, ice, and lightning."
"Drat," Weiss sagged her shoulders a little, "You can't practice more than one, can you?"
"Why couldn't you?" Oak piped up from her widdling, the roegadyn brushed off some bark shavings as she answered the ex-heiress, "One of the people I used to adventure with back before the Calamity would switch from being a gladiator to being an arcanist to being a lancer on a weekly basis. You just have to have the weaponry for it and the job crystals."
In the process of brushing away shavings, Oak accidently brushed a couple mushrooms. A small cloud of spores wafted through the air.
Although Weiss had more questions now than before, she opted to not believe her. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "You're making no sense."
"I mean," Oak pulled out her bard job stone and held it up before the apprentice conjurers to behold. The lime green crystal almost resembled the silhouette of a fancy hat if you squinted just right, and had an engraving of a harp in the very center.
Sylphie's eyes were alight with amazement, and her mouth was agape. When she managed to speak, the sheer awe kept her breathless, "How did you get one of those? Did Silvairre actually let Luciane approve of an outsider to have an audience with Jehemtel the Godsbow?"
"Ha!" Oak snorted and slapped her hand on the grass sharply. She pocketed her job crystal, "No." Oak waved her hand dismissively as she spoke, "Please. I got my archer training five years ago courtesy of Nonolato, and my good friend Keelty."
Weiss just looked at the roegadyn as if she had told her that aliens suddenly existed, but kept her mouth shut as she listened to her speak. Sylphie meanwhile leaned in and hung on to each word the bard spoke as if each detail were precious gold.
Oak emphatically waved both hands in time with her words as she told the abridged version of her tale, "There was this huge plot between Ixali and some Ishgardians, which threatened the leatherworking trade and all. It turned out to be an old friend of Keelty's behind it all. He turned to a life of crime after turning his back on the archer's guild!" She tipped up her nose and with a smug air finished with, "Got my audience with Jehantel, returned a moogle's charm, and ever since, I've been a bard."
After the high of regaling her companions with her deeds before the Calamity wore down, a sudden wave of sadness overcame Oak. She sunk into a more somber aura as she dropped her nose, closed her eyes and drew down a fist in prayer, "Twelve bless Keelty and Nonolato's souls and may they rest forever more in Nophica's eternal garden."
The sudden tone whiplash merely left Weiss both confused and annoyed. She crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her arm, "That's…All very impressive, but that doesn't tell me anything about what a job crystal does."
Oak's eyes shot open and she chuckled nervously at her own mistake, "It would be much easier to explain if we could find you two a pair of white mage job stones. The trouble is, ever since the…" she paused, and counted her fingers for a moment, "Fifth…Astral Calamity? There was a War of Magi between Mhachi and Amdapor. Both cities were lost, and the magics were sealed away."
Sylphie piped up, "It was actually the Sixth Umbral Calamity, and to this day, only the Padjal wield white magic. If I remember my studies correctly, black magic is more commonplace."
"Anyroad," Oak packed up the unfinished arrow shafts and feathers into a separate pouch on her quiver, "My point before I got on a tangent about job crystals is that you can learn many types of magic. I don't remember where they all are, but," she slung the full quiver on her back and crossed her arms, "I have connections, a freshly bought empty journal, and nothing better to do."
At Jadeite Thick, there was a carved out tree stump large enough to fit an Atlesian aircraft. This was used for disciples of war-usually lancers and archers native to the Black Shroud-would test their weaponry and run combat drills. The sound of arrows soaring through the air to hit training dummies and archery targets echoed through the forest. There was a hyur in a halfmask, dressed in reds and browns of the forest, with a composite bow strapped to his back. This hyur doled out quivers full of arrows to three fledgling archers and gave them each a task to hunt for food. On the steps to the stump was Jaune, he held up two swords: One was the broken Crocea Mors, now further fragmented from self defense against wayward corrupted elementals, and the second was a weathered shortsword. The shortsword was wider than Crocea Mors, and three ilms shorter, but just sharp enough to chip away at someone's aura. He sheathed both swords in their respective hilts on his belt.
He watched the three archers disappear into the forest and tried to sort out what all he knew about this strange new world. A talking crystal drug him, team RWBY and probably Neopolitan into a quest to find two warriors of light. There was magic and primitive weapons everywhere, there were also many races from the tall roegadyns to the smallest lalafell. There were even non-humanoid races such as sylphs, moogles, and ixal. There were people handing out metal coins much like lien that were also a universal currency. However, the most egregious thing was that people were handing out said coin and sometimes supplies to perceived adventurers for doing menial tasks. He had one question burning in his mind: "Did we just get stuck in a Grimm and Grottos game?"
As he voiced his question, he got little response back but a squirrel staring at him. He shooed off the nosy rodent, and it scampered down the steps to retrieve some fallen acorns. He stood up and brushed the dust and loose bark chippings off his pants and waved down the masked hyur.
"You should make your way up to Gridania before I can give you any more work, lad. Register yourself with the adventurers guild in Carline Canopy," He said to him.
"Wait," Jaune said, "Have you seen four other people? Three of them are hum-I mean hee-yurs like me. One's short and has a red flowing cape and silver eyes, the other has long blonde hair, the third-" he hesitated. Did he really want to run into Weiss? Most of his interactions with her outside of combat were prickly on her end. At the same time, he couldn't imagine how she'd handle being here.
"I haven't seen the first two hyurs," the masked hyur shook his head, "There was a strange woman with a scar across her left eye," he emphatically gestured as if a large boarbatusk were beside him, "She could use this strange magic of summoning terrifying beasts with an almost snowy visage to them."
The huntsman startled at the revelation that Weiss was not only here, but so far, the only one here. Still, that left two more people to ask about. Once more, he thought carefully about how exactly to describe Blake since back on Remnant, she was a faunus that happened to have cat-like features. However, he also knew there was also a cat-like race, but forgot the name of it. Still, he tried anyway, "There's also another. Uh…A bit quiet, a bit bookish, but she has cat ears and yellow eyes."
There happened to be a black-haired keeper of the moon miqo'te with yellow eyes dressed in conjurer robes, right behind him. She gave him an odd look in response to being implicated.
Jaune laughed nervously and put a hand behind his head, "Uh, I don't mean you. She doesn't have a tail, nor does she wear skirts," He tried to think about what else he knew about Blake aside from physical characteristics, but alas, he didn't know that much about her. Still, he gave the last bit of info that he had on her, "Her name's Blake."
"Oh! I know a tailless miqo'te named Blake!" The moon keeper clapped her hands together, "She works at the Bismark down in Limsa Lominsa. She cooks a fine tuna miq'abob. I think I've seen her around with a chatty caped hyur."
There were four, counting himself, of the six accounted for at least. Still no sign of Yang, unfortunately. Jaune thanked both the masked hyur and the conjurer miqo'te, and took the time to warn them both about Neo before he left. The hyur called in a request for extra glamour dispellers, and the keeper wrote a note to herself to check the markets.
As Jaune made his way up the path toward Gridania to register himself with the guild, he spotted a large, red chocobo with white-tipped wings and tail feathers. It wore a barding that resembled gold-lined stained glass and had a purple feather plume on the head piece. Feeding the horse bird a bundle of gysahl greens was a highlander with skin the color of the fields and a rosy blush. She wore a turban with a visor which concealed her hair and eyes, but there were two archon tattoos visible on each side of her neck. She wore a white jacket with a red sash undershirt, cuffed by fingerless gloves, white short-shorts, and striking red greaves. Attached to her belt were a set of darksteel cesti knuckles. A plainsfolk lalafell held open a sack filled with feed for his taller lady friend. He wore a black and white robe with an ornate eye on his left shoulder, black boots with coerl-skin trim, bright yellow gauntlets, and a monocle on his right eye. His visage was as pale as raw gypsum, with tufts of cliff undertone on his ears and nose. His stern eyes were of icebergs, and atop his head was a short, flared cut of light blonde hair.
Jaune wasn't paying too much attention to the lalafell, but he couldn't help but walk as he watched the woman carefully feed her oversized avian. His eyes traced up her legs, and to her stomach as he took in her athletic physique. The wind picked up slightly, and the highlander held tight to her turban. The monocled lalafell scolded her for letting go of the greens as they blew in the wind. The wind answered the stern man's yelling by intensifying and pulling the woman's jacket loose from her belt revealing some well-chiseled abs that one could sharpen a knife on. The woman let out cries of surprise as she tried to tame her inconvenient wardrobe malfunction before it grew out of hand. Out from her turban sprouted a single lock of blonde hair, which seemed to glitter in the sunlight as a stray beam cut through a shifting pass of leafy forest ceiling. WHACK! Jaune hit one of the poles to one of the canopies that lined the path face first. He now had three splinters in his cheek. The huntsman grunted in pain and backed up from the tree. When he looked back, both the highlander and the plainsfolk were looking at him. He hustled up the road out of sheer embarrassment and prayed to the brothers that he'd never run into those two ever again. Ever.
Jaune passed through the gates of Gridania, acknowledging the suspicious woodwailers eyeballing him as he stepped through. He assured all four that he was on his way to Carline Canopy.
"You stand on the threshold of the city of Gridania," one of the four spearmen reminded the huntsman as he passed, "Here, your status as an adventurer counts for naught-a fact you would do well to remember."
"I understand," Jaune nodded before the guard, "Just registering myself with Carline Canopy. As I was told," he took a nonce to admire the simple, but well-built mahogany gate. Hanging from the edge were flowers on a vine which came in white, yellow, and blue varieties, with at least one purple bloom he counted. The doors to the gate had a fan of leaves pattern. But what drew Jaune's eye the most was the yellow banner hanging off the side of the guard tower just fulms away from the gate.
"So. Your banner," Jaune brought up to the stern woodwailer to try and ease the tension if only a little bit, "Great taste in color. What's the symbol mean?"
He gave an annoyed grunt, but answered Jaune nonetheless, "What you're looking at is the emblem of the Order of the Twin Adder. The entwined serpents represent the unity between Elezen and Hyur. The yellow denotes the magic of the elementals which have gracefully allowed us to live here in coexistence," after answering, he waved Jaune up the path.
In spite of the guard's curtness, Jaune could see that his efforts to appear interested in the local culture went over somewhat well. He passed through Blue Badger Gate only to witness the grand site of Carline Canopy draped over the cliffside like an elegant, walnut, wooden curtain accented with banners of orange, yellow and bluish green with more flowering vines accessorizing the rails. When he entered the canopy he found himself mesmerized by the green, orange and yellow glass windows that ceilinged the building. It wasn't until Mother Miounne, the patient duskweight called out to him and waved him over to register that he remembered where he was.
One thought stuck with Jaune as he wrote his name down in the adventurer's guild book, 'If this IS a Grimm and Grottos game, it sure is an impressive setting.'
Later that evening, Weiss took a stroll down to the postmoogle. After she gave the moogle some coin and her letter, she watched as the lamps lit up the street, including the amphitheater behind her. The bat-winged furball took to the sky with a bundle of letters and packages. When it flew behind the cliffside, Weiss heard the buzz and shing of a teleport spell. She watched the sun set for a bit as she felt nerves bunch her stomach up a bit. She anticipated Yang to write her a long letter asking all sorts of questions. Maybe she'd ask where Ruby or Blake are, maybe she'd ask what happened, maybe she'd even ask who else fell down.
'Snap out of it, Weiss. You know why you're doing this.' Weiss shook herself out of the self doubt and weight of what-ifs, 'This is your family we're talking about. They at least deserve to know you're alive and one of the six who fell.'
She stood by where the postmoogle left and sat beside herself as worry churned around her. She felt a bit unnerved by the sudden whirlwind of anxiety that consumed her, and confused as to what the source of it all was. And then she was lifted from the vortex of worry from the sound of two adventurers talking loudly with a wood wailer.
"That's right! Out in Sorrel Haven! It was a giant mouth with dozens of green tentacles! It smelled of week-old dead fish and sour milk!" shouted an elezen archer to the patient hyur woodwailer who wrote down some notes.
"That would be Jaded Jody, alright," confirmed the woodwailer. He shook his head, "I'm afraid if your friend hasn't returned, she may have devoured her by now."
Weiss looked down at her wand, she took a couple steps toward the wood wailer and the adventurers, and then hesitated. She suddenly remembered that she forgot to ask either Sylphie or the guildmaster how healing worked. Still, she couldn't ignore someone in trouble. She approached the woodwailer anyway.
"Where is Jaded Jody?"
A clatter of terror-stricken leather boots trampled in a slipshod scurry down the antiquated steps of Matron's Lethe. The eldest woodwailer, Thievenaix, two researchers down as he brought out some rope to close off the area for the time being. He looked up at Jaune as he tied off one of the posts to the staircase after Hobriaut, the younger of the two researchers, passed down the first turn on the staircase.
"Lad, you should get going too," He said, "Jaded Jody is more of a job for the Godsbow. Three adventuring parties already tried and failed to fell her."
In measured temperament, Jaune produced his scroll and brought up his huntsmans' license, "It's alright. I'm a licensed huntsman," little did he know, the scroll flickered off as he continued to explain, "My team once fought a deathstalker bigger than that platform you're roping off. My semblance can boost the aura of anyone I touch. I also graduated at the top of one of the most prestigious huntsman academies. And, I'm particularly popular with-" Jaune noticed the confused look the elezen was giving and picked up on the fact that he stopped listening. He then saw that his scroll had flickered off and tried to turn it back on by clicking the button a couple of times.
"I don't know what any of that means," Thievenaix deadpanned, "If you're willing to risk yourself up against the giant morbol, then by all means. She's up by Hopeseed Pond. Watch out for her breath. It's strong enough to sweat stain out of wood."
Jaune nodded and pocketed his scroll, "Got it. What does she look like?"
"Like most stropers, she's a mound of thorny tentacles with a toothy maw that could swallow a full party at once. Follow the scent of rotting flesh and sour milk, and you'll find her," He said as he finished tying off the area, "Matron watch over you, and grant her a boon of strength. You'll surely need it."
Jaune thanked the elezen, and then cleared the scaffolding. He bobbed and weaved through the trees and foliage toward the pond. The one goal in his mind was to protect other adventurers from harm. Such was the duty of a huntsman.
Outside White Wolf Gate, the Twelveswood was near-silent. Zizes and lindwurms had bunkered down for the night, and the toadstools were all dormant 'til dawn. The occasional lightning sprite would twinkle and crackle along the path. Close to the pond grew these tall flowers with dull reddish calyxes. The flower part resembled a cattail, except they glowed purple at night. There were these long vine structures with a glowing yellow claw attached to the end of them. As Weiss took in her surroundings she couldn't tell what the yellow claw vines were for, but then she spotted the edge of a manor in the distance beyond the trees. She moved closer by taking the rickety mossworn bridge across and stopped about three-fourths down.
'Someone lives out here,' Weiss noted to herself as she got a good look at the front gate. She spotted two glowing blue stained glass windows, a couple metal spires in front and a balcony. The sheer size and intricacy of the manor made her think someone important lived there. She made a note to herself to ask around later, and reminded herself to focus. However, just as she reminded herself, she spotted a long, burnt ribbon which fluttered in the light breeze. Much to her surprise, it was the gunblade part of gambol shroud, stuck in the base of one of the vine-like structures that dotted the pond. She had previously thought it lost in the void during her attempt to dual-wield against Cinder. Weiss jumped down and pulled the blade out and turned it over a couple times in her hand. It'd been scuffed and the ribbon still had a singed edge from Cinder's attacks. Surprisingly, it still had a few bullets left in the chamber. Seeing the multiweapon half gave the ex-heiress a sense of peace. She secured the blade on her belt and scaled up the pondbank to continue her search.
After she made it to land, she patrolled along the bank of the pond and down the road for her mark. Sadly, after fifteen minutes of looking, her mark was nowhere to be found. Just as she turned down the road back to Gridania, she felt something squishy under her boot. She looked down and saw a severed vine that oozed a sticky goop that stunk of curdled dairy and rancid seafood, just next to it was a broken lance head. There was about a fulm or two of land down the slope that appeared like someone was dragged down. The wind just so happened to shove more of the stench at Weiss. She nearly gagged. It was much worse than described to her. Still, she followed the drag mark down.
The marred land went for quite a while as she found the other piece of the spear sticking upright. She carefully lifted it out of the ground to get a bigger look, but she immediately dropped it when she saw a detached, bloody arm still gripping the shaft. She spotted the sleeve of a leather cuirass just off to the side, stained red and goopy like the spear and the vine. Suddenly, Weiss was aware of her own breathing, and of a sharp lump in her throat. Her whole body went stiff. She fumbled in her robe pocket for a fistfull of coin for a teleport spell, but just as her finger tip brushed a single gil, she stopped herself. She shook off her own fear and continued down the path.
"Come on, Weiss. Shape up," She told herself as her heart started rattling in her ears as if to warn her of what's to come, "You've seen worse grimm. It's just a revolting mass of tentacles," her heart was pounding in her ears, making a desperate thumpathumpathump noise, "Just a revolting mass of tentacles," the wind seemed to slow, but her heart raced forward with that thumpathumpathump noise, "Just…A…Revolting…Mass…" she kept saying, despite the thumpathumpathump.
All time seemed to stop as she spotted her mark. There was the morbol. It had its back turned away from the ex-heiress. All she saw was a mound of writing tentacles, and it was chewing on something. Based on the sickening cracks and squelches, Weiss knew what happened. Instead of running, she drew her wand to avenge the fallen adventurer.
She belted out a hymn to the wind elementals, "O valiant wind, come forth and strike this revolting morbol!"
She felt the wind ripple around her and form into wisps of green energy. The wisps surrounded the morbol and cut into it. In response, the creature turned toward Weiss, with bits of leather and humanoid flesh stuck to its teeth. It let out a pained roar as it slithered to the conjurer. Weiss stepped back and drew Blake's sword. She cocked a lever, and the black blade slid back to make room for the glock. Weiss pulled the trigger and fired two rounds. One chipped a tooth, the second hit a tentacle, causing the stroper to recoil and let out a pained groan. Weiss released the lever and turned gambol shroud back into a sword and sprung forward. She sliced the katana upward as a tentacle came down to knock her off her feat. With a timely backstep and the upward slice, she took off the tip of the tentacle. In spite of the pain, the viny stroper lunged a foot at Weiss's ankle, she twirled out of the way and pointed Blake's sword to the ground. To her surprise, hard light glyphs still formed as she glided across them and started circling the morbol. Occasionally she'd stop to hurl a stone spell at the beast as it tried in vain to strike her. Twice, she halted a cast of stone to stretch under a vine which came mere ilms to her person.
Seeing an opening, Weiss jumped off a platform to stab it right below its jaw. However, Jaded Jody lashed a vine at Weiss's stomach and flung her back. Her platforms all dissolved and the next thing the conjurer knew, she was on her butt and gambol shroud was a fulm and a half away from her. She rolled into a crawl toward it, only for a tentacle foot to come down and snap the blade in half. Weiss's gut dropped through the forest floor.
"No!" She shrieked, and feebly reached out for gambol shroud.
Jaded Jody inhaled deeply. The stench lessened for a bit as Weiss pulled herself up to her feat and started another hymn to the wind elementals. Just as green wisps formed from the rising gale, they were blown away as Jody exhaled a cone of the foulest counter wind ever to exist. Weiss's eyes watered over, and her chest burned as though she'd breathed in sand. Her legs turned to jello and she was back on the ground. Her whole body was wracked with coughing, and she couldn't see anything but a blur of green.
Jody's tentacle came down hard on Weiss's head, shoving her face down in the mud. It came down again, shoving it further, causing her aura to flicker. Adrenaline pushed through Weiss's being as she pushed down and rolled away from a third strike. Everything was still a blur, but she still spotted another tentacle coming down, which she side rolled away from. She tried to stand, but her legs were still jelly. Her life flashed before her eyes as yet another tentacle came down. This was it.
Or so she thought. Her eyes cleared just long enough to see the tentacle that almost struck her fly off and land several fulms away. Between herself and Jaded Jody was Jaune. He lunged forward and pressed his shield against another barrage of tentacles. Taking the opportunity, Weiss grabbed her wand and aimed for the morbol and fired another stone spell. Just as Jaune drove his sword through the jaw, the final stone spell knocked the top of the morbol down, further down the blade. Foul goop splattered through the air as the mound of tentacles writhed and let out some death groans in its final moments before it collapsed upon the forest floor. Jaune shook some sticky morbol gunk off his arm as Weiss scooped up the broken pieces of gambol shroud and put them in her bag.
Jaune approached the conjurer and asked her, "Hey. Are you alright, Miss?"
Because of the shock from being mere inches from death, it didn't quite register to Weiss that Jaune didn't seem to recognize her, so she dusted herself off and answered, "I'm fine, Jaune. Thank you. Let's head back to town."
Jaune did a double take as his name was called, the voice sounded familiar, but his confusion still remained. He walked alongside the conjurer in silence as they made their way back to town. He kept looking over at the woman, just to be sure. He couldn't quite recognize any features as her face was completely coated in mud, and her hair was now a tangled mess. He noted that the flower pin had been crushed and was hanging on by only a few strands.
Weiss remained stunned in silence as the two made their way back to town. She was still floored by her luck that Jaune showed up in the nick of time, and the fact that she now knew that the last person to fall was a friend. She felt herself swimming in elation as relief whelmed her. She didn't even care that she looked like an unpresentable mess at that moment. However, she also couldn't ignore that her head felt like someone tried to play croquet with it and used a sledgehammer instead of a mallet. She couldn't tell if the nausea was from a possible concussion or the lingering morbol scent that clung to their clothes. She looked over at Jaune who was staring her down, but not saying anything. To make sure she didn't end up rescued by Neo, she asked:
"Is Winter okay?"
Jaune once again paused and looked at her as if she had grown a second head, "Uhhh….I guess it's an okay season?"
Weiss couldn't believe what she just heard. She stomped forward and snapped, "No, you dolt! I mean my sister, Winter! Did you see if she was okay?"
"Ohhhh," Jaune realized what the stranger was saying, "Yeah. Last I saw she left through the port-" It was as if a lightbulb was turned on, "Wait…Weiss?! Is that you?"
The conjurer let out an incredulous grunt, she put her hands on her hips, "Did you seriously not recognize me until just now?!"
Jaune recoiled and flinched at her harsh words, "I…Well…It's just, your outfit…and your hair…" he trailed off, not wanting to come off as rude for fear of Weiss's wrath.
"Yeah," Weiss calmed down a bit, "I know. I look horrible, and probably even worse after that."
"Sorry," Jaune put his hand behind his head, "I didn't mean to upset you. As far as I know, Winter's okay. She flew through the portal. As you can see, I didn't make it."
The two made it into Gridania and reported what happened to the woodwailer and the remainder of the venturing party. Later that evening, after a long bath, a good scrub of their clothing (thankfully morbol goop doesn't take much to get out of cloth), and dinner, the two of them sat in a two-bedroom inn room while Weiss fixed her flower pin and the two of them talked.
"How do you already have this world's money? And a rapport with the innkeeper?" Jaune asked as he sat by the fountain in their room.
"Three weeks of leves," Weiss answered without skipping a beat. Once she was satisfied, she set the pin by her bedside, "Not to mention, sometimes if you do favors for the locals, they can be generous with rewards."
"You've been here three weeks?!" Jaune exclaimed, "How? I just got here!"
Weiss leaned back on her bed as she answered with a shrug, "My guess is that we all might've got dropped off at different points in time. Oh, I sent Yang a letter."
Jaune slumped, memories of what he had done suddenly intruded themselves in his thoughts. He watched as one of the oil lamps flickered tentatively, "And Ruby?"
"I don't know where she is," Weiss shook her head sadly, "I'm hoping that Yang already found Blake and Ruby. It'd be a problem if Neo got the grand idea to impersonate any of them and pick a fight with us. Either that, or if she impersonated either of us and managed to pick a fight with them, considering our collective track record with her."
Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose and thought back to his earlier encounter at the Bannock with the guy who gifted him the worn sword. He remembered the hyur mentioning something about glamour dispellers. Considering that he knew Neo's semblance appeared to bend the hard light around her to work based on what happened when Oscar literally punched her out of Neo's Nora disguise. There was also the fact that Weiss could use Eorzean magic, and seemed to use it well enough. He started to brew up a plan of action. Just as he was about to tell Weiss, he was cut off by a knock at the door.
Weiss slipped off the bed and answered the knocker. It turned out to be Strong Oak, who was dressed in a meadow green crescent moon nightgown. She looked down at Weiss and said, "Good. You're still awake. I had a mess-" her words fell out of her mouth promptly as she spotted Jaune out of the corner of her eye. A wide grin came across the roegadyn as she looked back to Weiss, "Ohhhh. I didn't know you had a nightly visitor."
Jaune's face turned bright red and he looked away from the scene at the doorway dreading Weiss's answer to that.
However, Weiss didn't catch Oak's meaning at all. Without missing a beat, she said "Yeah. He's an old friend of mine. We went to school together years ago. Anyway, what did you need?"
Oak giggled mischievously and eyed an embarrassed Jaune before returning her attention to the conjurer, "Well I wouldn't want to get in the way of you," she cleared her throat, "Uh, catching up on old studying, or anything."
Weiss still didn't understand at all, and was starting to feel a bit annoyed with Oak's roundabout ways. She tapped the side of her arm impatiently, "Just tell me what you need to tell me," she said exasperated, "You have no idea what we did earlier."
"Oh I think I have a good idea," Oak once again eyed Jaune, who was burying his face in his hands and massaging his own temples. She cleared her throat, "Well anyway, Sylphie said she wanted to meet at Buscarron's Druthers. She had something she wanted to show you. And after that, I have a friend I'd like to introduce you to. I'd like your help with something."
"I thought you had a concert tomorrow?" Weiss asked her, she felt a bit annoyed that Oak kept her gaze off of her and on Jaune.
"Had to cancel," Oak waved her off, "Happens all the time when you're as in demand as I am, and this friend of mine is really important. I'm sure your 'classmate' will enjoy meeting with her again," she did some airquotes as she said the word classmate, "I do hope it won't lead to a drama, though."
Weiss stared at the roegadyn blankly, "...Why would it? Jaune's a grown man, he can meet with whomever."
Oak giggled and fluttered her eyes towards Jaune. In response, the huntsman let out an exasperated groan.
"Weiss, who is this woman? Where did you find her?" Jaune asked through his hands.
"Right," Weiss motioned to Oak and then back to Jaune as she introduced the two, "Oak, this is Jaune, my classmate and fellow huntsman. Jaune, this is Strong Oak, or Oak for short. She…" she paused as she looked up at Oak to word her feelings prudently, "Found me."
Oak extended her hand with a warm, but slightly still smarmy smile, "Well if you're in such an open affair with Weiss, I'm sure you'd be delighted to enjoy my friend. Mayhap, if I'm lucky."
Jaune stood up, still red in the face and gave the bard a firm handshake. He chose to ignore most of her suggestive commentary as he found it quite weird that she'd suggest such blatant things to strangers. He cleared his throat and clarified, "By the way, Weiss and I are just friends. Platonic friends. It's not what you think."
"Pray forgive my misunderstandings, then," Oak shook his hand in turn.
Meanwhile, it suddenly hit Weiss what the roegadyn had been suggesting all along. She finally turned to her and asked, "Wait a minute-What did you think was going on?!"