Pyrrha was pale and trembling. The motion of the elevator didn't help her keep her composure at all. Even the dull hum of the motor pulling it up was a disorienting roar in her ears.
"Forty-eight hours," said the single other person in the claustrophobic box with her: General Ironwood. "Approximately speaking, that is how long it would take for the process to complete. I recommend using your time wisely." He was her polar opposite: still and stoic as steel. She couldn't discern any emotion from him, but that was probably because she was still trying to keep from falling over.
"If you want to recover, I can arrange for your match to be placed closer to the end of the bracket. Or you can drop out entirely: the choice is yours."
Pyrrha forced herself to stand taller. "No, sir. I'll be fine: I'll ask the rest of my team."
Ironwood nodded. "No matter their choice, get some rest. Ozpin may not be here, but I know that would be his order." He managed a smile.
The offer of rest only left Pyrrha more intent on looking determined. Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest. "Of course, but... will the professor even accept this?"
His smile faded. "If he does not, then I will take full responsibility. The timetable needs to be moved forward."
The chime of the elevator cut their conversation short. With only another nod, Ironwood motioned for her to step out. "Miss Nikos?"
She looked back.
"Thank you." The door closed, leaving Pyrrha in the sterile hall of the medical floor alone with nothing but her thoughts.
Final Forty-Eight
A rare moment of serenity had fallen onto the cramped hospital room Team JNPR were in while they slept. Nora, having taken the brunt of the more worrying injuries, was in a hospital gown with her vitals monitored. Heating pads placed across her fought off the lasting effects of the Ice Dust-infused aura thrust into her by Raven. Ren lay in a bed beside her with bracelets and armbands constantly regulating and repairing his aura from the sheer trauma it took. Pyrrha and Jaune might've looked better if Pyrrha, sagging in a chair near them, didn't have dark bags under her eyes and Jaune, free of his armor, didn't still have the crumpled breastplate sitting next to him.
All in all, while peaceful, the view wouldn't inspire confidence in the average person. Especially considering how they were in a 'secret' hospital room in the center of Beacon Tower, and certainly not to Ruby when she threw the door open. Team JNPR's peace instantly shattered with a myriad of confused shouts and cries. When they blinked the sleep out of their eyes and looked up at the disturbance, they only found Ruby panting and staring with wide eyes. Her eyes darted across injuries real, implied, and some just plain imagined from stress.
Pyrrha wiped at her eye. "Ruby, wh—" She was interrupted by Ruby all but tackling her with a hug. Pyrrha barely had time to blink before Ruby was zipping between all four of the team, unable to decide who she was worried about more.
"What happened! Ozpin told us there was an attack last night and you were hurt but nobody told us and I've been so worried-that-something-terriblehappenedandI—"
"Ruby." Ren's voice was tired, yet firm. "Breathe."
Ruby's cheeks flushed red and, with a bashful grin, she unlatched herself from Nora. Tried to, anyway, for Nora was actually quick enough to return her hug and was in no hurry to let her go.
"We apologize for our illustrious leader's actions," Adam said with all the enthusiasm and urgency of a sloth as he stepped into view and leaned against the doorframe. "We really do."
Yang jogged in right behind him. "Oh, good! You don't look nearly as bad as I thought you guys would."
Pyrrha and Jaune looked between one another.
"... Thank you?" Jaune said.
"What? With all the secretive nature and late night assassination attempts, I was expecting at least one person to be in a full body cast or something."
Nora tussled Ruby's hair and finally let her go. "Aw come on, you four...? Where's Weiss?"
" 'Family business,' " Adam said with no small amount of venom.
"Lame." That Nora ignored. "Anyway, you three made it out fine from your crazy late night assassination!"
Yang waved it off, still holding a peppy smile. "Sure, but didn't you leave your weapons, Pyrrha? Having you out must've been a huge hit!"
"Well then, it's a good thing Jaune and I have at least somewhat similar weapons," Pyrrha replied with a soft smile. While they were talking, Ruby had begun shifting back and forth, soon almost vibrating in place from impatience alone.
Finally, she couldn't take it. "Okay, but what happened!" Ruby exclaimed and threw her hands up.
"It wasn't White Fang, was it?" Adam asked, his brow furrowed. Even under Cinder's control, making an attack on a popular student celebrity whose closest connection to the human-run organizations and governments was a cereal commercial seemed absurd. Yet, when the members of Team JNPR looked between one another, Adam felt his heart start to sink and his anger begin to rise.
"I don't... think so?" Jaune said. "She wore a mask like theirs, though. It was bigger and fancier: if it was White Fang, she must've been their leader, or something."
Adam stood straight and Yang's smile vanished, but despite the unease creeping into the room, Jaune just rested his elbows on his knees and continued.
"She was after Pyrrha, I think? The last thing she mentioned was about some kind of offer from Ozpin?" Jaune looked to Pyrrha for an answer, but Pyrrha looked away, frowning. Arms crossed, she made little circles on her arm with her thumb, eyes focused on the ground. She sighed and, knowing everyone in the room was looking for her answer, looked back up. Wouldn't it at least be alright to tell her team?
"I know who she is!" Nora was quick to jump in on Pyrrha's behalf. Almost too quick considering the surprised looks thrown her way. Nora was polite enough to look embarrassed before continuing. "Sorry, sorry! Her name is..." She sighed. "Her name's Raven Branwen: she's some kind of Mistrali bandit chieftain."
The unease at first creeping in now drowned the room. Ruby was silent, yet her eyes were on Yang, standing pale and horrified. Behind her, Adam looked stunned. Yet, none of JNPR had the time to address their reaction before Adam recovered and strode into the room in full.
"How do you know her?" He forced his voice flat and low, dulling any bite or confusion that could've been in his words. It was something Adam was used to: practically his standard voice in the White Fang, even. Unfortunately, it was a tone he rarely used around Team JNPR, and so it resulted in the literal worst response.
Nora raised an eyebrow. "Geez, sounds like I should be asking you that question. In fact..." She looked him over. Black-and-red, gun-sheath, iiado fighting style, eyes were even red when he was mad, kinda edgy.
"Are you two related?" The choked cries—or growl, in Yang's case—of annoyance, confusion and surprise from their visitors didn't help Nora's suspicions.
"Nora, this is serious," Ren grumbled as he sat up. "Yes, we knew her. This stays within the room, do you understand?" Only after they'd all agreed did Ren sigh, then continue. "Nora and I once lived in a village destroyed by the Grimm. We were children and had nowhere else to go. When her tribe came to pick at the ruins, they found us, and apparently, Branwen was pleased with our ability to survive, so she kept us for a time."
"So you're a... ninja-bandit?" Ruby asked, then mumbled an apology when all she got was an unamused look from Ren.
"I refused to ever partake in such a thing. She cast the two of us out." Ren caught the flicker of red in Yang's eyes, but kept that to himself.
"I kept the last name she gave me when I joined, though," Nora added with a cheeky grin. "Come on, how is 'Valkyrie' not cool?" The mood lightened, but only a little. Yang was clearly keeping her annoyance locked behind a door in her mind already splintering from the strain, and Adam wasn't hiding how he was busy thinking on what new questions, but Ruby seemed thoroughly satisfied by the answer.
The entire group jolted when the door opened yet again. "Geez, I could feel the brooding from outside: everybody alright in there?"
"Qrow!" Ruby zipped over to his side, but Qrow only tousled her hair—ignoring her protests at this happening yet again—and walked past her. His gaze briefly jumped from Yang to Adam before falling to Pyrrha.
"Sorry to interrupt this clearly killer party, but I'm gonna have to ask my family and their friend to step outside for a second. Don't worry: I'll catch you up later." Qrow nodded to the door and, after a moment's hesitation, Ruby, Yang and Adam left. Qrow waited for a moment after the door closed.
"And no eavesdropping!"
Ruby's panicked squeak could be picked up from the other side of the door, followed by a rush of wind. Qrow still waited for a couple seconds to pass then, with a sigh, drew out his flask and took a long swig.
"I'm gonna go ahead and guess you told them who the perpetrator is, right?" The mixed looks between the team told him everything he needed to know. "Right. I'm just gonna get a couple things out of the way: first thing's first, we're going to be keeping this all under wraps. As far as anyone else knows, come morning there's going to be a little sidenote in the papers about some vibrations in the fireworks causing some instability in the local ruins. Atlas will get some finger-wagging from Oz about their noise harming 'important ancient history', and that'll be it. Keep it that way. I'll be telling Team Rua that, too." His sharp gaze didn't give any room for refusing.
"Second thing is that I'm going to be open about it: the woman you fought—Raven Branwen—is my sister." Qrow sipped from his flask, waiting for the confused shouts and questions from JNPR to slow down. Well, most of them: Ren only stared at him with a measured gaze and a controlled expression.
"Aren't you Ruby's uncle?" Nora asked.
"Does that mean Raven's Ruby's mom?" Jaune added.
"No. It means she's Yang's mother, and I better not hear any of you repeating that." He capped his flask and slipped it into his coat. Then, he locked the door. "Still, it gives me a personal stake in all this, so I'm just gonna ask you: did Raven tell you all anything on why she attacked you?"
Pyrrha winced, but Jaune was not as reluctant. "She said something about some kind of offer from Ozpin and a war. I..." Jaune looked to Pyrrha. "What did she mean by that?"
Qrow sighed and, grumbling curses under his breath, dragged himself over to a chair, yanked it out and dropped into it. The flask came right back out. "It means my life just got more complicated." He just drained the flask. He needed it. Qrow sighed. "So. What's your favo—you know what, forget it. Look, just bear with me: a long time back, there was some old wizard dude in a cabin tired of everyone's crap."
Brothers, he hated his sister sometimes.
Weiss wished her sister was here. She was stuck at a meeting at dawn with her father to, in his words, 'watch and learn business rather than waste time studying combat'. Even if she was interested in what these suits and ties sitting around a table had to say, her mind was still stuck on the message she'd gotten from Ruby: someone had attacked JNPR. That worried her, but not as much as it being one person and it being covered by a fireworks show with such short notice. How long had that person been waiting for the chance to attack them?
One of the suits in the meeting room asked her a question she barely heard, and she gave a rehearsed answer: it wouldn't do to break from what was all but a script Jacques gave her. It didn't stop her father from taking issue with it, though: a twitch down of his lips and narrowing of his gaze warned her another lecture was incoming. They broke for a few minutes after, and from the moment the other corporate goons had stepped out, Weiss felt a sigh coming on.
"You really ought to be paying closer attention to this, daughter," Jacques sneered. "Vale's in a very precarious position due to these Dust robberies, and for the first time, we can actually make a dime off of the actions of that damned White Fang."
"And the Dust shortage allows us to increase our percentage cut from other Dust sellers under the guise of 'security', even as we sell at a loss to the general public in order to undercut them," Weiss droned. "A win-win scenario, just as you said prior to our arrival."
She didn't show it, but Weiss let herself feel smug at Jacques' raised brow. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. "Well, then at least try to sound interested. We have an image to maintain, and not every meeting is going to be as fantastical as that foolish Academy." Jacques tried to recover, but the silence that settled in after made it clear he expected his lectures to last for the entire break. A little more fuel to the smug fire.
"I found something quite interesting, looking into the White Fang," Jacques suddenly started.
Weiss gripped her skirt: her father didn't do 'small talk'. If he was bringing this up, it meant something.
"It was this... rather strange split. Apparently even savages like them have some sort of standard, because the White Fang has supposedly broken in half: the White Fang itself, and some organized rabble with black masks. I've been restricting Dust access to them both, of course, but it was the creation of that second group that's so interesting to me." He leaned forward, expression unreadable. "Namely that it seems to have spawned from your team."
She hoped he didn't notice her gulping.
"A delinquent, a child and a faunus who the White Fang listens to. Is there anything you would like to tell me?"
Weiss shook her head. "No, sir. Xiao-Long has been on the correct side of the law since joining, Rose has proven herself a good leader, and Belladonna... is quiet about his past."
Jacques raised an eyebrow, and Weiss flinched.
"Quiet about his past, is he? Your team grows more interesting by the day." An unsettling silence descended on the two of them before Jacques sat tall in his chair. "Well, in that case, it's good news. Someone like you shouldn't be associating with reprobates, and I will not stand for the heiress to besmirch the reputation of the family with her poor company."
She felt a hot flash of anger, but forced it back with only a faint scowl. "What are you implying, father?"
The door to the meeting room opened, and Jacques checked his watch. "A touch early, wouldn't you say..." he scowled at the newcomer, but Weiss sighed in relief.
Winter. She glared in Jacques' direction, but didn't bother speaking with him. "Weiss, I need to speak with you. Immediately."
"Though your defining feature has always been your impatience, you're going to have to wait your turn, Winter," Jacques spat.
"Take it up with the general, Jacques," Winter replied with a sickly-sweet smile and, as Jacques fumed and jumped to his feet, stepped out with a last wave to beckon Weiss to follow. Jacques shot a last, ice-cold glare her direction, but Weiss put on a decidedly more calm—but no less pleased—smile and stood.
"Sorry, Father: I cannot argue with orders." She sped out after Winter, ignoring Jacques' growl of frustration behind her. That didn't entirely stop her from being worried about General Ironwood calling her on such short notice. Weiss looked to Winter a few times as they made their way out, trying to decide the best time to ask.
"He isn't actually calling for you," Winter said with a satisfied smirk as she led Weiss into an elevator. "But we'll be gone by the time he figures that out." She winked to Weiss, and the two shared a giggle.
The cool, morning air of autumn had never felt better to Weiss than when she was free of that stuffy meeting and the dull building it took place in. Her time of enjoyment was cut short when a black car pulled up beside them with a window lowered just enough to see an Atlesian soldier in the passenger's seat. Winter guided them both inside, where a divider separated the back from the front in a manner similar to limos or—at least in some of the shows she'd watched on her Scroll—taxi cabs. Only a half-open window broke up the divider, one that Winter closed with a glyph.
As the car began making its way out, Winter cut to the chase.
"I am being redeployed to Mistral for the foreseeable future—to Argus, specifically. I want you to stay with me until next semester."
Weiss sat up in shock, her brow raised. "What?"
"Constant activity from criminals and terrorists, the Breach, the White Fang, and now two open attacks on Beacon's own campus. Something will happen soon. General Ironwood has not explicitly stated it, however..." Winter frowned. "I can see it in his eyes."
"You know about the attack on JNPR?" Weiss flinched the second the words left her mouth: she didn't even know if that was supposed to be public knowledge.
"You do?" Winter peered down at her.
Yep. Definitely not public knowledge. Weiss stumbled over herself for an answer before managing to grab onto: "They're friends of mine."
Winter examined her for a moment.
Weiss tried to smile. It wasn't convincing.
Winter sighed. "Technically, I am not supposed to know, either. When I heard that the general left without warning for Beacon, I checked some of the security footage from surrounding airships. They were too far and there was too much interference for a detailed picture, however I could see enough: the attacker was wearing a White Fang mask."
Another Tacet? Weiss couldn't understand: if this White Fang member struck during the airshow, then it couldn't have been a distraction for a greater purpose like it was against them. "It couldn't be: what would the White Fang even want with them?"
"I was hoping you might know that." Though Winter's words were casual, Weiss caught the true snipe at her team.
Weiss folded one leg over the other and turned her nose up. "Contrary to your belief, dear sister, we're not a gaggle of terrorists because of one man's past." And though her own tone was just as cordial, from Winter's frown, Weiss knew she caught the line in the sand being drawn.
With a click of her tongue, Winter looked away. "Right. No matter the reason, the fact of the matter is that Beacon's security is sorely lacking, the city of Vale's more so. The White Fang shall not be satisfied to squabble and negotiate over the Ildaite Ward forever: once the majority of Huntsmen and Huntresses—and more importantly, Atlesian security forces—are gone over the winter vacation, an assault is inevitable." She tapped her fingers against her knees a few times, then sighed and turned to Weiss. "I'm worried for you, Weiss."
Looking determined was a little difficult when she was feeling touched, Weiss thought. She tried to hold her smile back, though. "I understand, Winter, but I can't abandon my team."
"Your team is going to be at the center of this, Weiss!" Winter's shout left Weiss leaning back in shock, but she continued on: "Even if it was not obvious that you have been a player in their plans already, do you truly believe that in a war against the White Fang that the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company and the commander of the Vale Branch will not draw attention?"
"Then that is all the more reason to stick with them," Weiss insisted. "I won't leave them in danger."
"Even if there was a way to bring Rose and Xiao-Long with you?"
Weiss gave it thought. Briefly, but just long enough to know what she truly meant: just abandon one teammate in particular. She glared at her sister, yet Winter matched her gaze without blinking. "Absolutely not, Winter."
Winter drew her lips to a fine line, but said nothing, instead returning her attention to the world passing them by through tinted windows, instead. They stewed in the awkward, oppressive silence left behind for minutes. Eventually, Winter sighed, still staring out of the window. Weiss pretended like her Scroll was more interesting than what she had to say.
"So, this must be what it is like to be on the other side," Winter mused. "Everything appearing fine one day, until without warning your sister decides she wants to go off to play soldier." Her shoulders sank. "I must have had you worried sick about me."
Weiss glanced in her direction. "You did lock me out for the entire day before you decided to leave, even if you did just want some time to think."
"I had done that not to think, but to hide." That had gotten Weiss' attention, but while she turned to her sister, Winter stayed looking away. "I was afraid that if I saw you or Klein that I might have been convinced not to do something so rash. But I suppose you really are not like me at all: even if you should logically be shaken, you are determined to stay on this path, and as foolish as that sounds, I admit that I'm proud of you for holding your ground."
Though Weiss couldn't fight a smile from spreading, when Winter looked back at her, her sister wasn't smiling at all. Despite her words, she had her trained, stoic expression.
"You are different from me in another way, Weiss: you have someone who can help you. Never forget that while I may not always be there to save you, you can always reach out to me for help." There was something unsaid beneath her words. Something Weiss couldn't figure out. Just before she could ask, it was Winter who broke first.
"Do not trust our father, Weiss. You might believe he cares, but he only sees us as tools. He would just as quickly—" Winter cut herself off as her voice began to raise. She took a deep breath to calm herself. "He... he has done terrible things. Even to me, and even while I was his heiress."
Weiss' expression darkened. "Altebrucke."
Winter's brow rose. Her show of surprise was brief, but noticeable. She didn't question where Weiss heard it from. "Yes. That is the most obvious one. Just keep that in mind, Weiss." They settled back, yet it only took a minute for Winter to lean forward and press a button: the only way the two compartments of the car could speak to one another.
"Bring us to the nearest coffee shop." She leaned back and huffed. "I refuse to let our last words for who knows how long to be about that place. Tell me more about your time in Beacon: surely, there are lighter topics."
Weiss thought it over. "Well, there was this food fight..."
Winter blinked once. Twice. "A... 'food fight'?"
The story of that alone lasted them to the coffee shop. Even with the tension between her sister and her team, Weiss couldn't help but admit to herself how glad she was to have Winter. She dreaded to know what she would be like without her.
Adam checked his watch. Eight in the morning. Classes may have been canceled due to the Vytal Tournament, but there were still a number of events to attend in the festival it was named after. Both Weiss and Ruby were rather insistent on the team going to at least a few of them, so by his calculations, he'd have maybe three hours to search before he would start getting calls. To him, that was fine. He knew Raven must've been keeping a close eye on them, and the fact that she'd never been in Vale before—or at least active in Vale—told him she was likely nearby. A premeditated, planned out attack like the one on Team JNPR, however, proved it. A search would need a place to start, however.
"Now arriving in Patch," the intercom above him chimed.
That was why he took the first airship here. It was a longshot, but he had three thoughts in mind: the first was that if she was going through all of this trouble to interfere with Beacon, she'd want to remain close to it. The second was that making such a flagrant attack like that would probably have her being looked for all across the city, making Beacon, Vale and likely even the outlying forests a poor choice to hide. The third?
'It was something silly and simple: just an address I'd found on the back of a photo Ruby's mom had taken of mine.'
On one hand, it apparently didn't work for Yang then. On the other hand, from what he gathered, she never even made it there. It was as good a spot as any to start. Adam stepped off onto the sunny docks of Patch and made his way for the outskirts. All things considered, the place was quiet. Quaint. It was only in the absence of the constant pressure in Vale and even Beacon that he knew how much he'd gotten used to it, and how carefree the island of Patch was. Few cast him a look other than to give greetings or try to sell him something. In fact, few seemed to really notice he was there: even the weapon of a Huntsman didn't draw attention.
He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath as he strode through the streets. Adam had to admit: he wasn't surprised in the least Ruby and Yang came from this place. Even the White Fang had no real influence here. Bordering the outside world, yet worlds apart from its conflict, it was a nice place to live, even raise a family... well, if he were into that sort of thing.
Adam flipped open his Scroll: he didn't exactly know the address of his teammates(bar one, of course: drop him blindfolded in Mantle and he could still get to Schnee Manor) but he did recall pieces from the package Ruby and Yang's father had sent them. The one with a dog.
He still didn't get that.
His travels took him closer to the street it was on. Well, 'street' was an understatement: even on an island practically empty compared to the city, the Xiao-Long residence was in the middle of nowhere. Even so, he didn't even get close enough for a glimpse of it before he looked off through trees in the blazing reds and oranges of autumn. This would do. He twisted on his heel and jogged off into the trees, Scroll hanging at his belt. It was an address, but if their house was in the middle of nowhere, he was sure whatever this place is would be, too.
It took an hour of fruitless wandering for Adam to decide to never mention to anyone the idiotic idea that he'd had. Did he really decide on this with so little information? Just on a hunch, even? Adam huffed, drew Wilt and fired Blush over his shoulder at a Beowolf that'd been tailing him for the past ten minutes. Howling in pain, it scampered off. He'd heard a number of lesser Grimm around here, but that was the only one either stupid or confident enough to think it could take him.
Well, at least there was more than one fool in these trees, Adam thought to himself as he sheathed his sword. Thirty more minutes. He'd give it thirty more minutes before he accepted that his plan was—
Leaves rustled high in the air beside him, interrupting his thoughts. Slowly, he shifted on his feet, moving just enough to catch the source in the corner of his eye: just a normal bird. Adam sighed. A raven. Cute, Remnant. Very cute. What he wouldn't give for just a drop of the dark fortune that had brought him to Weiss. He shook his head turned to leave, but furrowed his brow. What kind of bird went towards gunfire? When he twisted to stare at the bird again, he found it staring right back at him, unmoving.
Adam focused, searching not with his eyes but with his aura, and he found a familiar one around the bird. Raven. Rather, Raven's pet. Just as soon as he understood, the bird flew off deeper into the forest. Without hesitation, Adam raced behind it.
His plan was genius and no one would tell him otherwise.
Adam had to admit: he simultaneously expected more yet was not surprised when he cut down the last Beowolf in his way and arrived at a dark, rundown house. The raven fluttered in through an open window. Adam watched it for a second, then looked past the field of overgrown grass at the patio. Even from afar, it looked like if he spent more than a moment on it, it'd fall apart beneath him.
He took a couple steps back then, in a single, aura-boosted leap, threw himself through the window behind the bird. He rolled to his feet in a living room long abandoned: bookshelves stood broken and torn through by Grimm, leaving only yellowing and brittle pages behind, a television sat broken atop a peeling stand, and ratty couches sat in strange positions no doubt from more Grimm searching for whoever abandoned the home.
And sitting on one of them, one leg crossed over the other, arm stretched out on the back of the couch and flipping through a Scroll in her other hand as if he wasn't even there, was Raven. The same helmet that inspired him to create the White Fang's true symbol across Remnant sat on a coffee table just across from her.
Raven looked up at him, bored.
"Well? Did you track me down just to stare at me?"
