A/N: I swear this is the last of these. Also, there's a light, lemony scent in here today, for those of you sensitive to such things.

One more thing: big shout out to my new beta reader, Shoober!

Chapter 9

Moments of Transition

(part 3)

July 5th

The haze of midsummer reached even to the highest levels of Mistral, though it was not as bad as the full blown heat shimmer of the seedier parts of the city below. Those same steamy quarters of the mountain metropolis were normally the bread and butter of Qrow Branwen's existence; a ready source of information, cheap women and even cheaper booze.

A man had to have his vices, after all. He didn't want to turn into Jimmy Ironwood.

The Mistrali Council, however, did not allow for such debauchery in the hallowed halls of Haven Academy. Thus, Qrow was reduced to doing his job almost completely sober, rationing what little he had left of the fine Vacuan tequila he'd managed to replace his usual scotch with; Forrest Wilson truly was a Godsend. The pale amber anejo sloshed softly in his flask as he took a hit, reveling in the burn that told him he was still alive, no matter how dead he felt inside.

Leonardo Lionheart… even after everything he'd discovered, he'd deserved better. The Headmaster of Haven Academy had been in Ozpin's service even longer than he had, and Qrow had fought beside the Lion of Mistral a handful of times, never doubting the faunus' courage. This was especially true when he had accepted a prominent position in a kingdom that was possibly just as faunus-unfriendly as Atlas itself. To find him dead in his own, locked office, strangled mere hours before his arrival, was a shock even to a jaded Qrow Branwen.

Trained eyes had gone over the scene he'd found, picking out all the details. The ligature marks on his neck were deep and heavily bruised, indicative of great strength, and made it almost impossible to accurately determine what the weapon had actually been. A quick use of his override code granted Qrow access to the computer terminal installed in Leo's desk, and what he'd found had not been promising. Most of Leo's files had been deleted and the server digitally scrubbed to prevent data retrieval. Of greater concern was the message traffic covering the previous six months, likewise erased from existence. A brief call to the folks in the Mistrali CCT office had confirmed that their communication records concerning the Headmaster's terminal had also vanished into the ether.

Outside of the Mistrali Council, only five people on the face of Remnant had the authority and access to do that without leaving a trace. Well, four now. This led Qrow down the only path of reasoning available, and it wasn't a pleasant one.

Leo had been compromised, and by the looks of it, for quite some time.

This called into question everything he knew about the inner circle, and what Lionheart had been entrusted with. The unsuccessful efforts to retrieve the Spring Maiden, for example. Then there were the Huntsman readiness figures for Mistral.

Deaths in the line of duty weren't exactly unheard of, but the last year's casualty rates among the Mistrali ranks were five times that of even Vacuo. Anima had gotten much more dangerous, it seemed. That this had happened was noteworthy in and of itself. That it had gone unreported to the Mistrali Council and Ozpin himself was unconscionable. He'd heard rumors among the Huntsmen of Vale that job opportunities in Mistrali territory were plentiful these days, but he'd never put two and two together.

The vista afforded by the perimeter railing of Haven Academy was as good a place as any to collect his thoughts, and so Qrow found himself looking out over the lush green scenery surrounding the mountain city. The breeze out here was also welcome, even as weak as it was, allowing him to feel less stuffy and cooped up. Before he could berate himself, and Ozpin just a little bit, further for missing the obvious signs, Qrow's thoughts were interrupted by the ringtone of his scroll. Sliding the device open, he saw the audio-only prompt, listing his personal pilot for the near future as the contact.

"Hey Forrest, what's up?" he asked. "No video?"

"Like I wanna look at your ugly mug. Hey, listen, I know you're wanting to get going again, but I just had something drop into my lap."

"What's her name, fuckstick?" Qrow replied immediately, knowing that his friend had very similar tastes, and habits, to his own. There was a reason they were such fast friends, after all.

"Miyami, but that's not important. What is important is that she's here on a buying trip for her father's ryokan in Kuchinashi. She's been more than grateful of my offer of safer, and faster, passage for her and her cargo than she would have had riding the train," he said, and Qrow knew exactly what form that gratitude was about to, or already had taken. Forrest was one of his best friends for a reason, after all.

"So what do I get out of it?" he asked, surely a paragon of selflessness.

"About a five hour delay and one of the two cases of top grade ouzo she'd set aside for bribing the train guards if it came to it. Mávros Black Label, Qrow," Forrest added to further sell the plan.

"All right, go get your dick wet, just not while you're flying the plane. And if I find out this crap is counterfeit…"

"Yeah, yeah. You'll toss me out over the Grimmlands without a 'chute," he parroted, quite an old and repeated threat between the two. "See you in five hours, bro," he said before disconnecting the call.

Guess I've got five hours to kill. Hope Vic's hasn't burned to the ground again, Qrow mused, his longtime favorite watering hole, and covert meeting location, only a short elevator ride away. A rising, mechanical whine could be heard as Qrow's ride spun up, the modified bullhead built for speed and light cargo work dipping its nose low as it accelerated over his position. The engine nacelles pivoted slowly horizontal, building speed as the wings began to provide lift in level flight. Qrow couldn't help but watch with a bemused smile, the ungainly flight of a bullhead was nothing like the true freedom he enjoyed while shifted, but it did have its uses.

The bullhead had just passed out of the range of his hearing, not quite a speck in the distance yet, when it was consumed in a massive ball of bright, sparkling orange flame. Several small chunks of debris, trailing black smoke, rained down on the Animan countryside, the muffled sound of the explosion finally reaching a shocked Qrow, flinching him out of his stunned silence. His eyes narrowed, knowing full well that foul play was involved; bullheads used a mix of gravity dust for vertical lift and shock dust to power the turbines and systems.

Only burn Dust sparkled orange like that.

That the explosion had been far too big to merely knock the aircraft out of the sky, but rather kill anyone aboard before the first scrap hit the ground, was also not lost on Qrow. Someone who knew exactly what he was had been determined to remove him from the picture.

"Sorry, man," he said, voice low and a touch more gravelly than usual before he took one last swig from his flask, pouring the last few sips of Vacuan anejo out over the railing, the liquid dispersing into a cloud of fine droplets as it fell. "This ain't over, Forrest," he vowed quietly, turning to make his way to the airship docks on the other side of Haven Academy.

What he discovered there confirmed his suspicions entirely.

The bullhead had exploded precisely two minutes after takeoff, just enough time to ensure that any debris didn't land on anything or anyone important; less pressure to have a detailed investigation that way. The preliminary assumption was a cargo mishap, given the manifest listing fifty kilograms of burn dust and no passengers. Forrest Wilson wasn't above falsifying a cargo manifest, or even a flight plan, but he didn't have reason to this time. Had he been up to something less than savory, Qrow would've at least had an inkling, had the pilot not informed him explicitly what was going on.

And then there was the air dock itself.

Most everything seemed in order, but for a small shack that housed fire fighting equipment centered in the quad of landing pads Forrest had departed from. All the equipment was in place, a fine coating of dust showing off the otherwise exemplary safety record of the facility. What was of concern were the handful of black pinfeathers scattered about the floor.

Qrow could dismiss that as mere coincidence, but knew damn well that his luck didn't run that way, which left him with two choices.

Either Raven had legitimately tried to kill him, and let's face it, it wouldn't be the first time, Qrow thought darkly, or someone was trying to make him think she had. Whether it was to force a potentially explosive confrontation between the Branwen twins or simply to trail him back to wherever she was camped was ultimately irrelevant.

Qrow needed to have words with his sister.

July 7th

The warm tropical sun lay low on the horizon, painting the clouds above in brilliant oranges and reds as a soft breeze blew in from the ocean in what passed for winter in Kuo Kuana. The wind pushed at a pair of black cat ears, which reflexively flicked in irritation. Blake Belladonna hadn't been this exposed in public in months and it showed.

She was filled with conflicting emotions, to be sure, several locations that she'd remembered from what little of her childhood she'd spent in Menagerie's capitol had been closed down and replaced with something else. It was unrealistic, certainly, to expect everything to stay the same, as almost six years had passed since she'd last visited, but still she was left with a feeling of melancholy for all that she'd missed. This certainly wasn't helping her current state of mind, and for not the first time since she'd left the docks, Blake briefly considered turning back and leaving Menagerie behind.

But for the influence of two of the blonds in her life, she probably would have done so without a second thought.

The first was her erstwhile suitor, Sun Wukong. Sun had been a relentless presence at her side ever since he'd run into her team in Vale, to the point where he'd even been able to convince her to spend the summer with him in Mistral. She'd never been there, even in her travels with the White Fang, and the promise of a place to crash for free had cemented the deal. What little she'd interacted with Mrs. Ayana certainly didn't hurt, as Sage's mother was quite pleasant towards her, even once she'd been inadvertently outed as a faunus by Sun's motormouth. Sage himself was also a fantastic cook, and as a consequence, she'd developed a burgeoning addiction to Mistrali seafood, specifically takoyaki and sushi.

Sun was a friend, first and foremost, and wasn't terribly pushy about the two of them being more than that, which Blake appreciated immensely. At the end of the day, she'd found someone she could count as a close friend and confidant, much like Yang, Ruby and even Weiss. Even he could appreciate that friendship as a foundation for potentially something more in the future, no matter how slim the chance. There were times that Blake thought his near-terminal levels of optimism to be a congenital defect, even when it helped even out her own moods, but she could not fault him for it.

One thing that Sun had always been insistent on was calling home, for which he had reserved an hour every Sunday morning. These calls had been on Saturday evening while he'd been an exchange student at Beacon, time zones being what they were. That devotion to his family was something she admired about him, yet simultaneously felt ashamed for, given the relationship she'd had with her own parents over the past five years.

Running away would have been one thing, but staying with the White Fang despite their embrace of a philosophy that spit in the face of her father's legacy was quite another. Her anger drove a wedge between them, her pride had kept her away, and after she'd left the Fang, her guilt had erected a wall it had taken Sun months to breach. Even after all she'd seen the White Fang become, Blake was an obstinate teenager who couldn't admit that her parents were right.

Ghira and Kali Belladonna were no strangers to the struggle for faunus rights, even Blake's stubborn mind couldn't deny that, but what they'd done just...wasn't enough. Her youthful idealism and impatience had led her to Sienna Khan and thus to Adam Taurus, the fury of the young man's convictions an easy substitute for being told no by her own parents.

Oh, how wrong she'd been.

Simple, yet perceptive; that was Sun Wukong in a nutshell. He'd easily deduced the cause of Blake's sour mood on Father's Day, or rather, his persistent nature had forced Blake's anger to the surface from repeatedly poking the proverbial bear with the equally proverbial stick. Her outburst had nearly ended up with him getting choked unconscious with the ribbon on Gambol Shroud, but Sun wasn't one to hold a grudge. He understood her recalcitrance, as much as he could while still being personally outside the situation, and told Blake in no uncertain terms that her parents would love and accept her no matter what. Blake had never said an unkind word to him about them, and Sun wasn't one to chalk that up to coincidence. He'd insisted she reconnect with them, and through weeks of gentle persistence, Blake had agreed. Unlikely as it was, however, the tipping point hadn't been something Sun had said, but rather another of the boys in her life who had finally convinced Blake to return to Menagerie.

Jaune Arc wasn't what she would consider as anything more than a peripheral friend, despite his attachment to Ruby Rose. She'd barely spoken to him all school year, though that hardly made him unique among the sister Teams of RWBY and JNPR, or indeed any of their other classmates. He'd always seemed fairly harmless, mostly clueless (especially when it came to his romantic choices), but overall a good and decent person, especially when his thoughts on faunuskind had come up in conversation.

Something she'd never really thought of was her own mortality, at least not in any emotional sense. Sure, she'd faced death before, but the possibility had never felt quite real enough for her to contemplate. Teenage invincibility combined with the power of a skilled Huntress was a potent combination to avoid dwelling on the abyss. Now, however, she'd lost a friend. So many things that could have happened, could have been said, now never would. She'd never get to see if Ruby's oft-denied nascent crush on the blond dork would ever become something more, or if Pyrrha would finally summon the courage to confess her own feelings for her partner. Tragic romances really weren't Blake's cup of tea, after all.

Even as emotionally distant from the situation as she was, her heart ached in sympathy for the both of them. Ruby especially had had enough tragedy in her short life that this was simply unfair. Whatever powers that might be could certainly stand to take a breather in their all-out assault on the optimistic Ruby Rose.

And in that tragedy, Blake had found the courage to reconcile, lest the opportunity be denied to her family forevermore.

She climbed the steps to her father's house, teeth biting the inside of her lips to keep herself from breaking down entirely. Despite the fact that her parents undoubtedly had a room reserved for her, she couldn't think of the large manor as home, not even as an academic exercise. Closing her amber eyes, she took a deep breath before knocking firmly on the front door, the booming sound echoing softly through the thick wood. Silence reigned for several moments before the door creaked open, the setting sun giving Kali Belladonna's face a rosy glow as her smile disappeared into a gasp of surprise, her golden eyes going wide in disbelief.

"Hi, mom," she managed weakly before she was quickly engulfed in a hug, a mother welcoming her prodigal child home in a tale as old as time. Blake stood stock still for several moments before the shock wore off, and her arms encircled her mother's back, squeezing tightly to her.

"I'm so sorry," she managed through a sob, her voice muffled by her mother's shoulder.

A consummate mother, Kali shushed her little girl softly, gently rubbing the back of her neck, the one spot that she alone knew was a calming influence on Blake. "You hungry?" she asked with every iota of warmth she could muster, getting a whimper and slight nod in reply. "Come on in, then, dinner's almost ready," she continued, giving her daughter one more firm squeeze before backing away slightly, allowing Blake to truly come home for the first time in five years.

August 12th

The fact that Qrow hated being here was easily seen from how little of his characteristic roguish charm was visible on his stubbly face. It didn't help that the little pissant in front of him wasn't giving him the answers he'd spent the last month trying to track down.

"And I'm tellin' you, Raven ain't here. Kicked her out. Now the Branwen tribe answers to me, Shay D. Branwen," the slender punk answered, jabbing a thumb into his chest as the dozen or so hangers-on in the shabby campsite gave grunts of affirmation to the supposed brains of their organization.

Qrow looked at him for several seconds, his lightly-marinated brain trying to process what he'd been told. Bloodshot eyes with equally red irises blinked once before a soft snrk escaped his sinuses. This was followed by a light chuckle, devolving quickly into raucous laughter that took Qrow several moments to realize wasn't being echoed by the dozen bandits surrounding him.

"Oh, wait. You're serious. Lemme laugh harder!" he added, his mirth rising in volume and force to the point where he was having trouble breathing. "Ahhhh, I needed that," he finally said after getting his second wind.

"All right, now you're just pissing me off. And that's something you don't want to do, ya hear me?" Shay retorted, growing obviously irritated.

"Okay, I tried to be nice about this, you little shit, so lemme make this clear. You tell me the truth, or in ten seconds, I'm gonna be the only one of us still standing. In a minute, I'm gonna be the only one in this camp still standing. In three minutes, I'm gonna be the only one in this camp still conscious," Qrow growled, several guns ending up with cocked hammers in response.

Two minutes and twelve seconds later, Harbinger noisily ratcheted back into its stowed form, Qrow holstering it behind his back before looking around to see if anyone was available for further interrogation. Finding no takers for a rematch game of twenty questions, he gave a soft sigh and set about searching the camp, or what was left of it.

The walls could use some work, despite being bigger than what was needed to protect the much-smaller-than-he-remembered tribe from the Grimm. Several tents were abandoned, going off of the drooping guy lines that allowed them to hang lower than would be comfortably habitable. The few times that he'd managed to sneak into camp over the years after Beacon, Qrow knew that Raven ran a tight ship, and this…

This was troubling.

A soft groan from the alleged leader of this shitshow could be heard, and Qrow walked back towards the scene of the brief melee. He yanked Shay off the ground by the front of his shirt, dragging him over to the embers of last night's watch fire and dangling him backwards over the coals as he struggled awake. Unsatisfied with the scrawny wretch's speed, Qrow elected to grab Shay's broken nose with his unoccupied hand and wrenched it sideways a full ninety degrees, getting a comically squeaky, burbling scream of pain from the man.

"Now, like I was sayin'," Qrow began, releasing the mangled snout before flicking it once to focus Shay's attention again. "Where's Raven?"

"Fhuh you."

"Wrong answer," Qrow growled, bending him backwards over the stone ring of the fire pit until wisps of smoke could be seen from a few tendrils of Shay's hair catching fire from the intense heat. "Try again."

Shay's eyes were wide in panic, an unspoken childhood fear of fire now foremost in his mind.

"She left! Almost two months ago! Never came back."

"Where?"

"I dunno, man," Shay whined, Qrow's hand reaching for his nose again prompting a screech of protest from him. "I swear, man, I don't fuckin' know! She's been paranoid for the last couple years, doesn't tell anyone but Vernal what the target is before she…"

"Who?!" Qrow nearly screamed in his face.

"Vernal! Her right hand!"

"Describe her."

"I dunno, maybe five-six, slim, blue eyes, brown hair in a dyke cut," he spat, clearly not a fan of her perceived sexuality, likely from getting shot down personally. "Gray jacket with the sleeves ripped off."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, she's got ink. A bird rising from some flowers on her left arm."

Qrow pondered the information for several moments, remembering the Spring Maiden had been a bit of a vain creature, long, blond tresses that needed even more care than his fussy niece's hair. That only left three possibilities in his mind.

There'd been a radical change in the girl's appearance and personality, which, given the better part of a decade under the care of his brutal sister, was a distinct possibility. This Vernal was just named that, either coincidentally, or as a decoy for the real Maiden, which didn't sound like a Raven Branwen play in the slightest. The third was the most chilling; that Vernal was actually a new Maiden, and Raven had followed Ozpin's standing orders regarding the Maidens for once, which made even less sense.

Qrow focused his attention on Shay again, noticing that his shaking hand was slowly trying to reach for a fire poker, which lay against the circle of stones a couple inches from his grasp. With an annoyed sigh, he backhanded his prisoner across the face just hard enough to rattle his brain and get a squeaking grunt of pain from his ruined nose. "We ain't got time for that shit, punk. Now think hard, but not too hard. You're in enough pain already. Where haven't you hit in a while?" Qrow asked, knowing that his sister was anything but random in the planning of her raids. Shay thought for a couple seconds, trying to match up names in his head to what he remembered of the map of Anima.

"West. We've been raiding on the Mistrali frontier north and east of here for the last year and a half. Nothing south but more Grimm."

"How many did she take with her?"

"Thirty-five? Forty maybe?"

"There we go. That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked rhetorically. "It's like I've always said. You can get more with a kind word and a two by four than you can with just a kind word," Qrow concluded sagely, the soft, rakish smile back on his lips again. "Word of advice, punk. Get out of the bandit business; you suck at it." Without warning, he dropped Shay into the embers, the humiliated brigand screaming in pain as he tried to push off with his hands to extricate himself from the fire pit. The moment he stumbled free, a snap kick to the face silenced him again, and likely disincentivized Shay from seeking vengeance after the three hour nap Qrow had forced upon him.

Qrow had a bird to find.

September 7th

"I don't like this, Oz," Qrow said wearily, finishing his thought with a nip from his flask to wet his parched throat. Verbal reports could be such dry things, after all.

"I can't say I blame you, old friend," Ozpin agreed. "However, the search for your sister, and by extension the Spring Maiden, will have to wait. I have a more important task for you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Amber requires a chaperone."

"She's awake?" Qrow asked in astonishment.

"Indeed. She is still healing, her mind at least, and I do not feel she is safe here at Beacon."

"What? Why!?"

"Leonardo's betrayal has far-reaching implications. He knew where she was, and was able to direct Cinder Fall here to complete her attack on Amber. I can only assume Salem knows everything that we do. That is why I need you for this. Your expertise in navigating the dark spaces between the kingdoms is a valuable asset, and one needed for this assignment."

"I don't know that I'm exactly the best man for the job, Oz. After what happened last time…" he trailed off.

"The only mistakes are ones we fail to learn from, Qrow," Ozpin reminded him sagely.

"You know what a shitty student I am."

"I still need you to do this. Take her somewhere safe, somewhere quiet where no one will ever find her. Contact me in four months to see if the danger has passed, otherwise, keep out of sight. We cannot afford to lose her again."

"You ain't kiddin'. An' I know just the place," he said with a nod.

"Good. There is a bullhead on standby at the main dock, ready to depart for Atlas. I need you and Amber to get on it."

"But you said…"

"And then utilize the escape hatch in the belly to drop into the crawlway it is parked on top of. I leave the rest to you," Ozpin continued, hardly unaccustomed to covert operations.

"I was beginnin' to wonder."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yeah. Ruby."

"I cannot ignore the power of her eyes manifesting as they did. Truthfully, I do not know you would be alive had they not. However, I will train her in their use in as private a fashion as I can manage. She is going to be a wonderful Huntress someday soon, eclipsing even her mother, I believe."

"And look where that got Summer," Qrow fired back bitterly.

"Beacon Academy will train her to the best of her abilities, as we do with every other Huntsman and Huntress who walks onto this campus. What she chooses to do with those abilities is her choice entirely."

"You know it ain't that simple, Oz."

"It never is. But that's life on Remnant. If I could wave my cane and end the war with Salem by wishing it so, I would do so without hesitation. She and every student at this academy have chosen to stand against the darkness that threatens to consume Remnant, and I am quite grateful for that fact. Raven's assertions to the contrary, I do not manipulate the students under my care," Ozpin said coldly, emotion creeping into his voice for the first time since Qrow couldn't remember when.

"Look, Oz. You know I'm in your corner here. And I know you've got trust issues right now. But for fuck's sake, please just treat my nieces like anyone else here. Tai and I have been through enough already. Especially with Raven missing now."

"I know, Qrow. I promise that I will not needlessly involve them, though we both know how adept Ruby and Yang both are at finding trouble on their own."

"Tell me about it," Qrow grumbled.

"You need a hand, Amber?" Qrow asked, seeing the seeming unfamiliarity with the dust-embellished staff she was showcasing.

"I...no, I've got it," she answered softly, removing the weapon from the closet adjacent her hospital bed.

"Okay."

"How long have we actually known each other, Qrow?"

"Huh?"

"My memory isn't exactly reliable for the time before I was attacked, and I haven't been awake for almost all of the rest of it."

"Umm, well, I'd say around five years, give or take. We first met shortly after you'd inherited your powers. I had been sent by Ozpin to check up on you, in Clearwater. That's a quiet town just outside of Vale proper," he clarified to dispel the look of confusion on Amber's face.

"I remember a watermill?"

"Yeah, was kind of a safe house for you. Had you stashed upstairs, was damn near impossible to sleep with that thing running all the time. Needed to keep you out of sight while you grew into your abilities."

"There was a cat. I remember! An orange tabby."

"I hated that cat," he muttered irritably.

"She liked me just fine," Amber recalled with a playful tone. "You're just mad that she tried to eat you that one time."

"Four. Four times," Qrow corrected her with a handful of extended fingers for emphasis, drawing the barest hint of a smile from her.

"Reminds me of a cat I had...or, maybe had?" she continued, her good cheer dampened again by her unreliable memories.

"More brain fog?" Qrow asked, a chronic alcoholic more than sympathetic to someone with memory issues.

"No, this is different. Ever since I woke up, I've had flashes. Thoughts that felt real, but somehow I know they're not really mine. Does that make any sense?" she asked, pulling on her cloak.

"Not...really. I mean, I've been on some pretty good benders before, but I don't think it's quite the same thing."

"It's like I had this whole other life before this," she said softly. "What do you know about me?"

"Not much. What's Oz told you? I might be able to fill in the blanks."

"Only that I've been given some great gift, for some reason. He said I was chosen out of millions of girls, and that I was destined for greatness. That Cinder woman tried to steal that gift for herself, and now she's dead."

"Yeah, I was there."

"Is that where you got…" she trailed off, her warm amber eyes cutting to the patch over his.

"Yeah."

"Ozpin said you freed the rest of my soul."

"That's one way of puttin' it."

"Thank you."

"Wasn't exactly planned, but yeah."

"And then shortly after that happened, I woke up in the hospital here."

"Sounds about right," Qrow confirmed.

"What he's not telling me about is my life before all this. He hinted that I wasn't happy, but that doesn't feel right. At least not in some of my memories."

"What did he say, exactly?"

"That I...didn't want to walk down that path. That it would only bring tears," she said softly. "Sounded like he spoke from experience."

"Family can do that to you. I definitely speak from experience on that one."

"Do I even have a family? Sometimes I think I do, but I can't figure out what's real anymore."

"Tell ya what. We're gonna be hiding out for a while, so maybe I can help you jog some of those memories loose?" Qrow asked dubiously. He wasn't a damned shrink, no matter what Oz thought.

"Okay." Amber smiled then, a glimmer of hope in her life once again. "After you, kind sir?" she said, gesturing to the open door beside her.

"Age before beauty, eh?" he replied, offering her a knowing smirk before he checked the corridor. Seeing no signs of an impending ambush, he stepped into the hallway, waiting for Amber to follow.

"So where are we going?" she asked.

"It's a surprise. Trust me, you're gonna love it," he replied, hoping that would allay her fears for the moment.

Neither of them took notice of the hospital security camera as they rounded the corner, a small red LED lit as it always was, indicating the device was powered and functioning properly.

September 8th

Marguerite Arc rolled her shoulders back, glancing at the clock to confirm that another fifty-five minutes remained on her shift, despite the lack of customers for her to tend to. Boredom aside, the view was fantastic at least. The Vale CCT tower was easily the tallest building in Beacon, and the highest point anywhere near the city proper. She had a bird's eye view of the bay and the city beyond to enjoy when someone wasn't asking her for help with the simplest of things, and regrettably that was fairly often. How many times could someone screw up their browser settings in one hour? Seven, if one particularly dense professor was to be believed.

Still, Margie was grateful to her sister-in-law for getting her this internship for the summer, and she was making the most of having access to cutting-edge technology and officemates who used and maintained it on a daily basis. She was also making the most of the ludicrously fast CCnet connection she was sitting on, a high capacity portable hard drive humming away at her feet as she downloaded more Mistrali animation than she knew what to do with. Getting the genuine article on physical media was pricey and damned inconvenient, but the magic of file sharing had her swimming in enough entertainment to last through her final year in college and beyond.

With the quick stroke of a hotkey, she switched from her CCT interface program back to her download client, checking her progress and speed with a mischievous smile. That smile evaporated when she saw that she was over forty percent short of where she'd estimated, with the average speed on her download ticking downwards by the second. While it was possible the issue was on the server end, that was an issue she could do nothing about, and so she returned to her work client, opening the tab that monitored traffic across the local portion of the network. Marguerite squinted for a moment, reading the numbers and graphs in front of her. "That can't be right," she mumbled softly, reaching for the landline handset next to her and dialing her immediate supervisor.

"Hey, Grey, can you come here and take a look at something for me?" she asked, puzzlement in her voice.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute."

The connection went dead, and Margie switched back to her download client, pausing everything before returning to the network traffic numbers with a frown. Working quickly, she navigated through the history graphs, opening snapshots of one week, one month and three month averages in separate tabs.

"Whatcha got, Margie?" Grey Simpson asked, adjusting his narrow reading glasses on his narrow nose.

"We've got a problem."

"Oh?"

"I've been fielding complaints for the last few weeks about network speed. I've never been able to isolate it until just now."

"Yeah, you're not the only one."

"Now if you look at these averages, we're showing peak traffic anywhere between fifty and fifty-five percent above our normal load."

"Okay?" Grey asked, not yet seeing Marguerite's point.

"Now, look at this last week, compared to the same week a year ago. Same consistent increase, right?"

"Atlas tech support says it's probably just a bug in the newest OS, should be fixed when they push the next update at the end of the month."

"Yeah, I got that email too, but look what happens when you break it down by network node," she said, expanding the two snapshots side by side. "Yeah, we've got a steady increase in the amount of bandwidth usage, but for it to be uniform?" she asked, highlighting the fact for Grey.

The numbers didn't lie, certainly, and for every node, every location and terminal, to have the same discrepancy added up to only one thing. Grey Simpson grabbed the landline, quickly dialing from memory.

"Network security, Mason," came a voice that sounded like someone gargling hot asphalt.

"Travis, this is Grey. I'm showing signs of a major malware issue across the entirety of the network, I need a risk assessment yesterday."

"Lemme take a look here," he replied, the furious clicking of a mechanical keyboard sounding more like crinkling plastic than individual taps. "Sonuva...yeah, this is bad. Damn it, I told those idiots in Atlas that their countermeasures code needed to be patched. But nooooooo I couldn't possibly know what I'm talking about, I'm just some Valerian end user, I never went to school in glorious Atlas," he ranted on, the sarcasm thicker than his gravelly voice. "Grey, we need to shut it down. Now," he added. "This is gonna take me and the crew at least a week to scrub manually. An' I don't give a shit what they say, I'm installing my own security protocols until they can show me they've got better."

"Mase, I don't know…"

"If I don't get this isolated and contained, we're talking about a potentially 'netwide problem. And that ain't happenin' on my watch."

Grey Simpson took a deep breath and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Do it. I'll inform the Headmaster and the Council personally."

"Already done."

September 9th

The gentle warmth of a sunrise, shimmering off the body of water that gave the town of Silverlake its name, filtered through the plain curtains of the modest inn, Lie Ren's lavender eyes slowly opening in minor annoyance. His dream had been so good, too. He then let his gaze drop from the window at the foot of his bed to the bed itself, finding an unkempt mop of orange hair still resting on his bare chest, and he decided that reality was better than any dream he could imagine right now. With a tender touch, he used a finger to clear the hair away from her face, and smiled at what he saw.

Ren truly did feel that a peacefully sleeping Nora Valkyrie was one of the cutest things on the face of Remnant, but it was a face of her rarely seen. Even exhausted, she tossed and turned, a relic of days gone by when they were trying to sleep while on the road in a gently rolling Tigan wagon. Granted, she'd never been exhausted in quite such a fashion before, and Ren's smile grew more mischievous at that knowledge. She'd been magnificent, and his own performance certainly seemed to meet with Nora's approval as well. There was no going back for them, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

Nora hummed softly, the fingers of her left hand digging into his ribcage like the claws of some slumbering beast. Ren's hand slowly caressed the bare skin between her shoulder blades, coaxing a soft giggle from his lover before her vibrant turquoise eyes flitted open, staring back up at him mischievously.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said through a smile.

"I was up first; I don't think you can call me that. And good morning to you as well, Nora," he replied with a smile.

Without another word, Nora crawled on top of him, her legs straddling him just above the hips before she settled down again, her bountiful bust squishing against his lithe chest without any awkwardness or hesitation. She pressed her lips against his, humming softly as she took her first kiss of the morning. Several seconds later, they broke free, foreheads pressed together as Nora tapped the tip of her nose against his.

"Boop," she said softly.

"Boop," he echoed warmly.

"You were wonderful," she added, a pink hue on her cheeks.

"As were you."

"I still can't believe it."

"Oh?"

"Our first time was even better than I imagined it could have been."

"First three times," he corrected, not having to downplay Nora for once.

"You only got three?"

"What?"

"Seeevennnnnn!" Nora sang softly, trailing the fingers of her left hand along his jawline.

Ren chuckled softly at the memories they'd made together, basking in the now-distant afterglow of their union.

"I don't wanna leave this room," she said quietly.

"I agree, but we have a train to catch. School starts in four days, Nora."

He could see Nora's smile falter then, her breath leaving her as she seemed to deflate. His arms found their way around her, pulling her even closer to him and slightly down, Nora's head nuzzling under his chin as she rested against him.

"I don't wanna leave. I don't want it to be real. I don't want him to really be gone."

"I know, but there are people counting on us, Nora. Pyrrha is worse off than we are; at least we've got each other."

Her immediate response was to further burrow into him, her arms squeezing around her boyfriend for comfort like a giant stuffed animal. "Damn straight," she replied. "You're not going anywhere without me." Her lips found his neck, nibbling kisses falling upon his sensitized flesh in rapid succession.

"If we don't get out of bed soon, I'm not going to have time to make pancakes," Ren wished he didn't have to remind her.

"I'll make do," she said, breath hot and steamy against his skin.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Nora?" he deadpanned.

"Ohhhh, I think that's a matter," she began, leaning back to sit upon him fully, the coarse hair of her nethers scratching against his abdomen as her stunningly perfect breasts came into his field of view, the gentle sunlight making her pale skin glow with a golden hue. "Of what you've done to me," Nora concluded, trailing a single finger down his sternum while clenching her supple backside around his now-erect length, eliciting a soft hiss of pleasure from Ren. "We've got some time, aaaaand…"

"And, we're out of condoms," he said with more than a hint of regret.

"Well, shit," Nora said dejectedly, before her eyes went wide a few moments later, heralding the arrival of a mischievous grin. Before Ren could ask a question he wasn't exactly sure he wanted an answer to, Nora slid down his torso and under the covers, humming pleasurably as her sex ground briefly along his own.

"I've been wanting to do this with you for awhile, now," Nora said in a sultry voice. "Besides I owe you, like, four," she added.

"What are you talking aboooooohhhhhhh!" he began, before being interrupted by the wet heat of her tongue against his flesh. "Oh. That," Ren said, his voice nearly a purr as his hand gently ran through Nora's ginger locks.

"Mmhmmm," was the only reply her now stuffed and eagerly working mouth was capable of.

"Mmm, Nora, I... teeth. Teeth!" he hissed out.

"Shorry."

The last heatwave of summer was in full effect on the island of Patch, almost too hot to keep the sister act of Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long off the beach.

Almost.

"I don't see how you can wear that thing, Yang. I mean, not just your...hanging out," Ruby said with a shudder at the end. She wasn't jealous of her sister's endowments. Not at all. Whoever said that she was clearly didn't have a grasp on reality, kind of like how Yang's body didn't seem to have a grasp on simple physics. Four straight years of drinking milk should have done something by now, right?

Totally not jealous.

"When you're as blessed as I am, it's a crime not to flaunt what you've got every once in a while." Yang replied, jiggling her bust a little for emphasis, loving the attention she got while wearing the nearly microscopic excuse for a yellow bikini. She giggled softly as yet another wide-eyed teenaged boy tripped over an uneven plank in the wooden boardwalk that ran along the Port Arcadia beachfront.

"But seriously, how do you even walk with that string in your butt? Doesn't it feel weird?" She whisper-hissed, her own idea of 'mature' swimwear largely consisting of trading out her Grimm-print suit for something with roses (naturally). Maybe even a little bit of a higher cut over the hips? Nothing too racy, mind you.

"It's a learned skill. I mean, I don't have an ass like Blake, but I'm no slouch in that department either." She humbly bragged.

"I'm not going to ask how you know that, Yang." Ruby shuddered again.

"Oh, come on, Rubes. Kind of hard to share a shower with a room full of girls and not take a quick peek at…" She playfully teased with a knowing grin.

"I'M NOT LISTENING, LALALALALALALA!" Ruby shouted, plugging her ears with her index fingers and squinting her eyes shut, keeping this posture as they walked until she stubbed her toe on a bench. "Ow! Owowowow!" She barked, hopping on one foot for several seconds before her aura repaired the miniscule damage.

Yang couldn't help but smile at her sister's antics. The current display was almost as funny as when she'd convinced her to try a strawberry daiquiri at the one party she'd dragged Ruby to over the course of the summer. Granted, that particular party had ended with two broken arms when a couple of boys had tried to take advantage of Ruby's innocence and slight inebriation, but the twenty minutes prior to that was pure comedy gold.

Yang also hoped that Ruby hadn't lost the spark that made her such an adorable little cinnamon roll after the events of the last five months, the party in question being the least of her problems. She'd lost the most out of their group of friends, and no matter how much of a brave front she put up, Yang knew that Ruby was still in a lot of pain.

While Team CFVY was certainly considered among their mutual friends, they hadn't been exactly close. The same could not be said, however, of Ruby's relationship with the quirky and somehow even-more-awkward-than-her Penny Polendina. The Battle of Beacon had reminded them both of the dangers of their chosen profession, and that not every evil in the world could be blamed on the Grimm. While Yang had been confined to the hospital recovering from the multiple broken bones in her hand, she had seen Ruby cry herself to sleep almost every night. There were still times she blamed herself for not being fast enough to save Penny, despite the obviously overwhelming power that Cinder had displayed in dismantling the apparently cybernetic girl.

Still, Ruby had at least done enough to save their uncle Qrow, and he'd ended the threat once and for all, even if he'd ended up a drunken cyclops as part of the bargain. That was the event that had truly shaken Yang; her kick-ass uncle nearly dying was definitely a wake-up call. Qrow Branwen was an even more invincible figure in her personal pantheon than their own father.

And then there was Jaune.

Ruby's best friend, her protestations as to that title belonging to Weiss aside, was gone. It wasn't even some freak accident or secretive terrorist plot that no one could see coming. Those at least offered a small amount of comfort; that being the generally random unfairness of the universe at work. Jaune had died doing what they all aspired to, what they were all training for, and, if she was being brutally honest, what would probably claim the majority of their lives.

There was a reason there weren't many retirement homes catering to Huntsmen.

Yang shook her head to banish the feeling of melancholy threatening to overtake her, looking back to her sister, who was examining a shirt hanging in front of one of the stores dotting the boardwalk. It was a simple off-white in color, with loose, billowing sleeves to fight the summer heat. What piqued Yang's interest was the not-insignificant opening over the décolletage, a narrow diamond that stretched across the entire front of the shirt, covering from the bottom of the tall Mandarin collar to where the top edge of Ruby's corset would cover it.

"I thought you didn't like showing off, Rubes."

"I'm just looking for something that isn't all black. A little more breathable too. Might have to swing by on our way out, see if it goes with my combat skirt."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see everyone else at Beacon next week. I bet Weiss has an entirely new wardrobe."

"But we won't see everyone else," Ruby replied softly.

"Shit," Yang swore under her breath at both her sister's mood change, and that she had contributed to it, no matter how unintentionally. "Ruby, I'm sorry."

"No. It isn't your fault, Yang."

"I know. But it still sucks," she said softly, gingerly placing her hand on Ruby's bare shoulder. "He deserved better."

"I wake up every day and I have to remind myself that he's actually gone. Even then, there are times… I bought the new issue of X-Ray and Vav yesterday, and I couldn't stop myself before I thought about discussing it with Jaune. He was a good friend," she finished softly, barely noticing that Yang had drawn her into a hug in spite of the side of her face getting mashed into Yang's slightly sweaty and nearly bare cleavage.

"Yeah. Yeah, he was." She reassured her little sister gently, stroking her hair much as she had done in the wake of Summer's disappearance. Yang had grown up far too fast in those months afterwards, and without the benefit of actual experience to guide her actions. Still, comforting Ruby was the one thing she had gotten perfect from day one. "I think… all we can do now is just keep moving forward. Be the huntresses that he would be proud to call his friends," she added, swallowing hard to keep control of her own tears. She wasn't any good at this inspirational crap.

"I just… I feel so bad for their team. I can't imagine losing one of you guys."

"Even Weiss?" Yang asked with a soft smirk.

"I'd rather have her call me a dolt a thousand times a day than never hear her voice again," Ruby said with a chuckle.

"And here I thought you didn't have a crush on anyone."

"And now you've ruined it."

"You know you love me."

"Even if I sometimes forget why. Yes."

Ruby then extricated herself from her mammary prison, giving a soft 'ew' as she wiped the relative humidity from her face. Her eyes caught the shirt again and she plucked it from the display rack, shuffling it down over her shoulders and slipping her arms through the sleeves before closing the collar around her neck. "What do you think?" she asked, her face seemingly undecided.

"I mean, it's nice. A little loose in the bicep there, but you can slip a garter over that or something."

"I've got those old belts from my Signal uniforms," Ruby suggested hopefully.

"That could work, yeah," Yang said absently, at least glad to have her sister back in a good mood. "I've got those leftover leather bracers you can use, too."

"Ooh, nice! I'll be right back," she said, trotting off towards the register with her scroll in hand.

Yang watched her check out with a soft smile, glad that Ruby had gotten more resilient as she'd grown up. Damn it, you're not allowed to grow up, she mused as a smiling Ruby rejoined her.

"So now what, Yang? Dad isn't home for a couple more days, right?" she asked, not out of nefarious or mischievous desires, but rather being able to avoid her chores for a bit longer than she already had.

"Yeah, he's supposed to get back from that conference at Beacon on Saturday. And no, no parties, Rubes," Yang reassured her.

"Not even a pajama movie party with cookies and milkshakes?" she asked hopefully.

"Mmmmmmaybe? Tell ya what. I'm gonna go get changed, and you can go pick up whatever cookies you want for tonight at the bakery, how's that sound?" Yang asked, turning to wink at another gawker, causing the unfortunate boy to walk knee-first into a trash can before crashing to the ground. The only response she got was a high-pitched gasp before Ruby's Semblance kicked into overdrive, leaving a trail of rose petals behind her as a red blur completely overshot the intersection that would take her to their favorite bakery. Yang wore a wan smile as she shook her head, a soft puff of breath sufficing to convey the mirth she felt as she picked up Ruby's shopping bag and stalked after her sister.

Arthur Watts afforded himself a soft sigh of resignation, slinging the messenger bag full of hard drives over his shoulder before walking to his closet. Leaning forward and twisting the knob on the closet door with the tips of his thumb and forefinger, he gave a gentle tug and took a step back as the door slowly swung open. The Seer stood there, well, floated there, its manner of levitation of great interest to the disgraced scientist chiefly because he wasn't allowed to experiment on the damned thing.

"Hello?" Arthur said, waving at the Seer Grimm. It felt awkward, as he'd never been the one to initiate communication with Salem in this manner. He did an admirable job of not shrieking in panic when a lone tentacle whipped out and easily ensnared his wrist, pulling him slowly forward. After several moments, the billowing cloud of...whatever...dissipated, revealing his Queen in all her pale glory.

"You have news, Arthur?" She asked placidly, observing decorum if nothing else, her even temper filtering through the connection and relaxing the Seer enough to release Watts' hand.

"Yes, Your Grace. My connection to Beacon has been severed at the source. I have all the downloaded files on my person, and I will be joining you at Evernight at the earliest opportunity," he said in his typically smooth diction.

"That is unfortunate, but unavoidable as you stated. However, I wish for you to journey to Vale. The task I set before Hazel and Tyrian needs to expand its scope. You are to persuade Adam Taurus that the elimination of certain of Ozpin's assets is in our mutual interests. You have more than enough information to make such a job trivial, do you not?" Salem asked, her voice having an edge he was more than familiar with.

"Of course, my Queen. Consider it done," he said with a smile he didn't truly feel. Dealing with Taurus had been Cinder's task, and if he knew the woman half as well as he thought he did, that relationship had been contentious at best.

"You're covering your tracks?" Salem asked, again a formality if she knew her minion as well as she thought she did.

"Burn dust charges are already ticking, and will reduce this little tinderbox to ash in ten minutes or so. By the time they trace my steps from Beacon to Mistral, this vacant lot will probably be under construction again."

"Good."

"Your Grace, if I may? I'm not sure I feel entirely safe in Vale, especially when dealing with the White Fang." He said as cautiously as possible. Arthur Watts was a scientist, not some thrice-damned, knuckle-dragging huntsman.

"I shall consider your request, Arthur," Salem replied, with a tone that thoroughly conveyed that she wouldn't. "Is there anything else?" she asked, now sounding almost bored.

"Yes, actually." He responded with a knowing smile, withdrawing his scroll from the inner pocket of his jacket, opening a picture gleaned from the Beacon hospital security system before displaying it close enough to the Grimm that every detail was visible. "Autumn is in the wind."

"Excellent." Salem replied, her predatory smile readable even through the distortion of the Seer Grimm.

End Act 1

End of Act Musical Selection:

Muse - Butterflies and Hurricanes

A/N the second: Okay, first things first, gonna be doing this every few chapters, that is, splicing in all the previous chapters' author's notes into one tidy package, along with a few other ramblings here and there.

Before I begin, a small note to those of you who've been following along, I'll be going back and giving one more coat of polish to the previous chapters to clear up a few grammatical errors that have been pointed out to me in Discord, as well as a couple word choices that in retrospect could have been better (yes, I reread my own material). I've also added dates to the scenes in all three parts of Moments of Transition, to aid in understanding how the time flow worked out.

On the subject of reviews: Please keep them coming, fellow sentients! Seriously, they're great motivation, and validate the work I put in to tell the story I want to, and (hopefully) keep you all entertained. If a logged in user posts a review with a question, or a point they're not clear on, I do try to make a habit of answering you all as soon as I can manage. For those who review anonymously, I'm not going to turn my review page into a back and forth, especially when the questions being asked are literally answered in the chapter they reviewed.

On the subject of Beacon's schedule: It's been pointed out to me that, apparently, Beacon's school year runs from spring to winter (Specifically, Ruby telling Winter Schnee it's fall when they meet during the Tournament arc). Given that:

-That makes zero logical sense to me, has no canon explanation, and is never mentioned in canon again,

-Is contraindicated by the visuals of Beacon's trees during the tournament (Vale is very close to latitude with Patch (Ruby can see Patch from the airship in the first episode), which itself gets snow, meaning there should have been some leaves turning),

-I don't feel like rewriting parts of chapter 1,

-And another in-story reason I won't spoil,

I've chosen to ignore that isolated line (that even occurs after this work's divergence from canon anyway), and go with a traditional fall to spring school year, with a four month summer break (mid-May to mid-September).

On the subject of Renard Arc: Yes, he's not best dad, nor is he perfect. He's just seen more than his fair share of shit, and didn't cope as well as he might have, as he didn't have the support structure around him that most of us do. He legitimately didn't want his son following in his footsteps, because unlike, say, football or music, if you fail at the dream of being a Huntsman, there's a very real chance you end up dead. When you've lost that many people who are that close to you, it does things to you. Hell, just look at how Jaune took Pyrrha's death in canon for a reference point, and then multiply that five times over. A plot point I had envisioned that didn't get addressed (and might not, I'm not entirely sure how the rest of the Arc family's presence is going to play out beyond this chapter) is the reason that Renard even allowed himself the possibility of a family with Rose. Not being a huntress, while trying during their times apart, meant that he never had to lose her in the manner he'd lost so many others (including his teammate and at-the-time fiancée).

Arc traditions (and they are myriad) aren't just something he made up, but they are instead woven into the tapestry of the family's heritage. While The Question™ gave him a justification that he was glad to take to keep Jaune from the path of a Huntsman, he didn't do the same to Olivia. Honor demanded that an appropriate response from Olivia be respected, and that he do everything to support her that he can, despite his personal wishes against her chosen career.

Also, Jaune was something of a slacker as a youth, and didn't have the motivation of the friends he now has to push him to be better. His high school years are something I will be touching on in later chapters, so I'm not going to be doing so here and now.

On the subject of the Tiganii: As I stated in the review section at one point, I substituted Romanian for their language instead of Romani because (chiefly) I didn't know any better at the time (thanks to Makurayami for educating me), and the dearth of Romani language resources online. Fun fact: Casian is named for a Romanian-born coworker!

On the subject of the last three chapters: I'm trying to establish a lot of the wheres and whys of a lot of people's changes in perspectives, locations etc. This is to cover a three month timeskip between Jaune sightings (no, he's not actually dead), as well as cut some of the backloaded exposition from later chapters. If you haven't noticed already, I do tend towards this, especially for things I'm trying to tease out and reveal slowly. I'm a huge fan of movies like The Usual Suspects and The Sixth Sense, where you get so much more from a second pass through the material.

On the subject of "unnecessary" drama: I'm not going to be dragging that plotline out for months, no. There are a couple reasons for it existing in the first place, one of which was the laughs of the initial misinterpretation. The rest...you'll see.

On the subject of pacing: The story points covered in chapters 7-9 were originally slated for chapter three in my original outline, LOL. This story keeps growing, but I think I've managed to keep the pacing even enough that it's not a problem. The true meat, and mystery, of this whole tale starts with the next chapter, and I can't wait to really get going with it.

On the subject of OCs and headcanons: Several theories I've had bubbling away in my head for months will be getting incorporated into Summer School, the first being Adrian's parentage. OCs will not be taking over the story, but are used as tools to advance the main plot. That being said, I might be writing a side piece or two to this one to further explore these characters.

On the subject of pop culture references: Mine tend to be subtle, so you're not going to see Caboose as an Atlesian soldier or anything overt like that. They are there, however, and from widely varying sources. The last two chapters have obliquely referenced Futurama, Babylon 5 and Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, for example. Like I said, diverse.