Chapter 2

True Intentions

Billow

"The sun's already risen, what took you so long?"

I shuffled hesitantly on the small porch, eyes fixed on the red hydrangeas rather than the face in front of me.

"I got caught up."

"Caught up with what exactly?" The woman's hands were fixed on her hips.

"Coffee. I nearly fell asleep on the way there. Goldenrod says you should schedule the hand offs later in the day."

"Of course not, more chance we'll be seen."

"That's what I said-"

The woman, who went by Pine Rosa, grabbed me, muttering, "Just get inside."

I was yanked by the elbow, and hit my shoulder on the doorway on the way in. Upon letting out an audible wince, Pine turned.

"Your aura's broken." She remarked, eyeing the lack of blue sparks. She stood straighter, now looming over me with arms crossed across her chest. "Where did you really go?"

There was a slight pause.

"Billow-"

"I ran into Aster."

The room filled with a thick silence that was broken by Pine's exasperated groan. "Again? We moved the hand offs to dawn because of him-!"

"I know, he just popped out of nowhere and next thing I know I'm getting smacked across the face like, like a-" As I struggled to come up with a fitting simile, Pine huffed and stomped over to the kitchen table that lay in the middle of the cluttered living room.

"At this point I'd say Connie's fairing better than you. Though she did mess up her hand."

You could consider my attention grabbed.

"Conifer? She's injured? Did she text you-

"No," Pine held up an envelope. "She sent a letter."

"Can I read it-?"

"Nope. Sisters only." Conifer's sister retrieved an additional envelope. "You got one all to yourself anyways."

With surging eagerness I reached for the envelope, only to stumble as Pine pulled it back.

"Slow down. You need to do me a favor first."

"Favor?" With my clumsiness Pine usually made an effort to keep me away from delicate house chores.

Pine sat down, newspaper in hand. "This is right up your alley, don't worry." She spread the newspaper across the table, pointing to a certain article that sat in the top left corner.

"Read this." Pine said, brushing her brown bangs aside and leaning against her arm.

Pulling up a chair, I scanned the article's contents. "Thievery problem worsening in Vale." I read the title aloud. "Reported incidents of thievery have increased exponentially within the past few months. Law enforcement suspects the existence of a new faction within Vale's underground could be the source of the steep uptake. Dust shops in particular have been heavily impacted-"

"That's good." Pine interrupted. "Now, how does this affect our little operation?"

"I won't be able to get more dust?"

Pine's brows furrowed in a way that implied that wasn't the answer. "Not quite." Her eyes were fixed on the blurry photo of supposed street thieves making their escape. "It means you'll likely have company during your trips. And while I doubt they'd be after a bunch of paper, they could want your weapon and my pocket money. The last thing I need is you getting roughed up on the streets." Her voice lowered to a mumble. "We'd be screwed if you ran into Aster at that point."

"I didn't spend three years at Atlas Academy just to get tossed around by street thieves." I retorted. "I've handled petty thieves back in Atlas, I think you're blowing this out of-"

"Look at their weapons." Pine shoved the newspaper towards me. "Then tell me these are just petty thieves."

I leaned over the table and examined the blurry photo. Out of the weapons I could make out, all seemed to be loaded with dust, and multiple resembled toned down versions of weapons I'd seen at Atlas Academy. A small disk shaped weapon caught my eye. It looked similar to the bladed poker chip ring weapon I saw earlier… wait.

As I scanned the picture with newfound urgency, Pine continued. "I think our best bet is to get to these guys before they get to you. They've only been in Vale for a few months, so it's likely they're still trying to get their balance. If we act now, there's a good chance we can drive them out-"

"Pine." I pointed to one figure in the picture. One figure with black and white hair. "I know this guy. He helped me throw Aster off." I continued while Pine's eyes widened in curiosity as she snatched the newspaper, eyes fixed on the blurry figure of Alpin. "He wanted to meet up this weekend to talk about Atlas."

A confident smile breached Pine's stiff demeanor. "Well, I guess it's our lucky day." With a mischievous smile, she rolled up the newspaper and smacked it against the top of my head.. "Time to put those espionage skills to work, huntress."

Asha

Mistral looked the same as ever as I stepped into the warm afternoon. I examined the airships and the city awaiting beyond the landing. Pausing for a moment, I glanced behind me, half expecting the others to trample out of the airship. I shook my head and continued forward, remembering I was alone this time.

My apartment held a similar sense of isolation. However, the quiet was more comforting in the afternoon light of the foyer. Unlike my dorm at Atlas, this room was designed with the intent of housing a single inhabitant. No three empty beds, no three empty desks, no reminders that I was tragically abandoned. The solitude in Mistral felt more like home than the deprivation of it.

I didn't bring much with me, unpacking was simply a matter of sorting combat outfits from uniforms, spreading textbooks across the simple oak desk, and organizing the rest in designated drawers. A feeling of comfort washed over me when I stepped back and examined the room, with everything in its rightful place, everything organized, everything under control. A welcome distraction from the fact that everything else was spiraling downwards.

A buzz from my scroll brought me back to reality. I checked the notifications and resisted the urge to sigh. Camphor.

So much for serenity.

Camphor had sent an email, (he never texted, no matter how brief the message), with perfect punctuation as always.

To:

Subject: Haven Academy

Asha,

I trust that you've arrived in Mistral without complications. As you know, you will be attending Haven Academy starting tomorrow. I've attached a list of your classes and professors. All of your professors have been made aware that you are participating in a classified investigation and are prepared to accommodate. You will report to me once a week with your findings.

The email ended there, without even a signature. No "regards" or "sincerely"s, just a command. Perhaps that itself was Camphor's signature.

With a sigh I closed my scroll, setting it aside, not touching it again until the next morning.

Perhaps Mistral's residents would describe Haven Academy as grand, but in comparison to Atlas, it was modest beyond comparison. Still, I didn't anticipate my departure arriving any time soon, so modest would have to do.

Textbook tucked under my arm, I strode through the neutral colored halls. They weren't pristine and cold, like Atlas', and perhaps that was a welcome change.

The lecture halls bore similarity to Atlas' in style, with ascending rows of seats. I sat myself a few rows back from the front, far enough from the lecturer to avoid unwanted questions, but close enough to retain proper sight of material.

Besides myself, there was another student seated a few rows away. With a sigh of irritation, I resolved that I would be the first student to arrive the next morning. While opening my scroll I glanced to the side, noting the appearance of the student that had triumphed over me in the pursuit of being early.

He was a short male, that much was plain to see, with silver hair and a white mask covering the lower half of his face. Perhaps anticipating my staring, he shot me a quick glare and returned to focusing on his textbook.

Noting that no one else was in the room, I remarked, "That was rather rude was it not?"

He huffed, not looking up from his textbook. "Staring is rude."

"Do you expect everyone to walk into a room with eyes fixed straight ahead?"

"Yes, if they find it funny to examine every detail of the strangers around them." the student shut his textbook and finally turned to look towards me.

His eyes gave the slightest indication of surprise. "Well, what's the White heiress doing here in this humble academy? Too many enemies in Atlas?"

The fact that he knew me, and had the gall to insult me to my face, was enough for me to turn away and huff, "I am on an extended mission."

"Really?" the student droned. "What kind of mission? It would be a tragedy if an Atlesian like yourself was forced to grovel in the dirt."

Eyes fixed on my scroll, I answered cooly, "I am investigating the underground dealings of Mistral. Of which," I shot the student a glare, "are none of your business."

"Right. But let me ask, are you working for an honest cause? I'm sure your family would be disappointed if not."

Stomach clenching, I gathered my things and rose to my feet. "And I'm sure you'll be disappointed to never know."

I made to relocate to a higher row when a bushy haired girl entered the room. "Yo, Marcas!" she exclaimed, shoving past me in her rush to seat herself next to the silver haired boy.

"So it seems your friends are just as impetulant as you." I remarked under my breath.

To my surprise, the bushy haired girl turned with an expression that implied she heard my off-hand remark. "Oh, sorry about that!" she grinned. "That was my bad."

She examined me for a moment. "I haven't seen you around here before, oh you must be new! Come sit with us-"

"I'd rather not."

"Now come on," I flinched as she grabbed my arm, dragging me into the row and the seat next to her. "No need to be icy!"

The girl was getting glares from both sides.

The offending student huffed and turned away, burying his face back in whatever he was working on.

Meanwhile, the girl grinned, extending a hand in a warm greeting. "The name's Pyrite"

As I shook Pyrite's hand, I noticed something… fluffy behind her. Following my eyes, she grinned, a chestnut squirrel tail perking up. "Neat huh? It makes the cooler seasons way nicer, like a built in scarf-"

"I do not care." I returned my attention to my scroll, hoping that was enough to scare the Faunus off. Even if her companion didn't think unfavorably of me, she talked far too loudly to be of any reasonable assistance. I knew of but a single person who could simultaneously raise her voice and keep her secrets, and she was long gone.

Silence befell the room, but right when I thought I had succeeded, Pyrite spoke with a "Oh you're just as cold as the tabloids say!" that proved otherwise.

She continued her insistent chatter, firing a multitude of questions all while students began to file in the classroom.

"I knew I recognized your face-so what's Atlas like? Is it cold-?"

"Obviously."

"Were you disappointed when you weren't chosen as team leader?"

"Marginally."

"What was your leader like?"

"Hopelessly unprofessional."

"What about the rest of your teammates?"

"Of similar dispositions." my voice had grown curt from Pyrite's innocent yet ignorant questioning. I sighed. "But make no mistake, they were all capable fighters."

Pyrite's curiosity only deepened. "So what happened to them exactly?"

My heart froze.

"The tabloids should tell you plenty." I managed to state.

"Yeah, but how exactly-?"

Pyrite flinched as she received a sharp glare.

"I will not detail my teammate's death for someone I just met." I snatched Pyrite's scroll from her lap, and it crumbled to ash. "Especially if they're recording my every word. One of my teammates died, and the others are elsewhere. That is all you need to know."

Pyrite finally fell silent.

At least, for a moment. "What if we become friends-?"

"No."

The young woman was persistent to say the least. In the few days following our introduction, the squirrel Faunus seemed to pop up in the most unlikely of places, be it the marketplace, a nearby tree, or the academy rooftop. She would stubbornly take hold of my arm and insist on walking with me to class. Her attempts at earning my friendship were as frequent as annoying.

I had rerouted any commutes to take busy streets, for in a crowd so large it was highly improbable that Pyrite would be able to spot me nor distinguish my scent.

My strategy proved successful, and my walk back to my apartment was undisturbed.

By Pyrite at least.

I was just a few blocks away from my apartment when I was shoved to the side by a hooded figure and a frantic shopkeep.

"Get back here, you good for nothing-!" the shopkeep keeled over, breathing heavily. "Dammit…" he straightened back up, and spotted me whilst doing so. More accurately, he spotted my sword.

"Hey, you're a huntress right?" he approached me, grabbing my shoulders in his haste. "That bastard got away with my dust, I just know he's involved Mistral's blackmarket, the thieving lot-"

"Blackmarket you say?"

The man nodded breathlessly, and I began my pursuit of the thief.

While I didn't have the thief in my sights, I could observe the pattern of the crowd to determine his location. Ahead, nearing a right street corner, the crowd parted, and the thief was in plain sight. Not much could be said about their features, for they wore a hood.

The candle pattern on the back was all too familiar.

The White family crest. What a wonderful surprise. To think I'd be running towards my family emblem instead of away from it.

I chased the thief until they reached a secluded alleyway, where a row of trash cans blocked the other side. I unsheathed my sword, heat radiated off of the hilt as I pointed it towards the thief.

"State your name." I growled, "And what my family's crest is doing on your cloak."

Silence flowed through the alley. The thief turned and ran, and for a moment I thought I had been hit over the head, for where there was one thief there was two, then three. The trio knocked over the trash cans and made their escape. Shaking myself out of my haze, I followed them, only for them to run in different directions.

I gritted my teeth and chased after the one that had bolted right. They had barely made it a block before they disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

A clone semblance… I sheathed my sword. Pity I picked the wrong one.

For a moment, I stood in silent contemplation. Flashes of the emblem on the thief's cloak flashed before my eyes. I had discarded that emblem long ago.

Now I couldn't help but wonder who had picked it up in my stead.

Conifer

"Tournament?" I glanced at my bandaged hand nervously.

Lime reclined in her chair. "You're license-less, but you want to do huntsman work, right?"

I nodded.

"I can't get you a license, but here in Vacuo people pay more attention to reputation that accreditation. The tournament tomorrow is widely known through Vacuo. You win that, you'll never need a license here."

"But…" I trailed off, "if this tournament is such a big deal… isn't it more likely I'll lose?"

Huffing, Lime straightened her posture. "Weren't you and your team supposed to be some sort of prodigies?"

Quietly, I nodded. "I was the weak link…"

"Don't give me that." Lime scoffed, rising to retrieve something from the nearby shelf. "A team is only as good as its weakest link, and judging by the magazines, your team was pretty good." she flourished a pair of daggers, which spewed out pebbles. Ground dust. "Don't sell yourself short, Sapling."

"Right…" I averted my gaze to the window.

So naturally Lime stabbing her dagger a mere few inches from my injured hand was startling at the very least.

I jumped, yanking my hand away, semblance instinctively covering it in wood.

Lime smiled in satisfaction. "Good reaction." she spun one of her daggers. "Shouldn't be tough to get you up to speed."

"Up to speed on what?" I questioned.

"Combat." Lime laughed. "You didn't think you could steal the show without help from yours truly, right?"

A nervous laugh bubbled out of my throat. I wasn't sure why, but fear was clutching at my stomach.

"R-right."

The night was dark and freezing, as nights were in Vacuo. I had learned quickly that it was best to fall asleep the moment the sun sunk its fiery head below the horizon. I had learned to sleep and to sleep quickly, for once you awoke in the bitter cold, any hope of rest was lost.

It was one such bitter cold evening in which I had a dream much warmer than the Vacuan nights.

Sunflowers waved in a sunset breeze, The sky was painted with lavender and creamsicle clouds that bobbed along the wind like sailboats. The soil glowed with cracks of light, as if the world itself was coming undone at the seams.

A blurred figure rushed past me, nearly knocking me to my feet. I thought I heard laughter, or maybe it was crying, or maybe it was nothing at all, for the air stifled the sound. Prompted by curiosity, I raced after the figure, chasing them through sunflower fields, trying not to trip where the cracks of light had become too wide.

My lungs didn't ache in this pristine cotton-candy world, nor did my hand sting. I could run as far and fast as I wanted to, with only the figure running faster.

Eventually the figure had led me to a river of light, far more expansive than the cracks I had run across. A snow covered forest awaited on the other side, past the rushing currents of light. The figure began to cross the river, evidentially slowed by the process. I closed the distance between us, grabbing the figure's hand, ankle deep in the light.

The figure turned to reveal golden eyes and pigtailed hair.

The light burned.

"Luxia?"

The world became too bright to see, and everything tingled.

Next thing I knew, I was standing in the cold darkness of Luxia's room, broken glass surrounding my feet.

The door opened with its characteristic screech, and Lime entered with a tired but puzzled expression. "Didn't warn me about sleepwalking." she mumbled, spotting the glass on the floor.

I turned to the mirror, staring into the depths. I swore I saw Luxia's eyes staring back at me.