Chapter 6: Side Effects may include…

Blake awoke with a start. She sat up and checked the time on her scroll; 5:23. She quietly groaned, Knowing she wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep. Slipping silently out of bed, Blake walked downstairs, and found someone sitting in front of the crackling fireplace, whittling.

She tried to sneak past him, taking one step… two… three…

"Bad dreams?" he said, without even turning around or lifting his head, making her jump. She hesitated, not sure if she should reply. He turned to her, saying, "Have a seat," motioning to a chair next to him. She slowly, tentatively made her way over, never once taking her eyes off of him. She couldn't shake off the feeling that he wasn't normal.

"If the knife's bothering you, I can put it away," he offered. She shook her head. He put it aside anyway. She sat down, still keeping her eyes on him. An awkward silence filled the air between them. Nick finally asked, "So what is bothering you?" Blake's bow twitched at that, along with her face.

After a moment, Nick said, "Don't wanna talk about it? That's okay." Blake took a breath and asked, "Are you really one of the Four Wolves?" He shifted his jaw like he did, then finally answered, "Yes, I was one of them." He put another log on the fire. "The White Wolf," he finished.

She simply sat there, amazed at that revelation. "I hear it's tough being a faunas these days," he said, giving her a slight shock. Does he know, she thought. He continued, "It wasn't something we wanted, although admittedly it's always inevitable." "What do you mean?" she asked. He looked at her and simply explained, "Human Nature, people always find someone to hate." Blake somberly agreed with him. She looked up at him and saw in his eyes that he was talking from experience.

She sighed and said, "There's something I need to get off my chest." Nick slightly nodded, boding for her to continue. "I used to be an operative of the White Fang; I left nearly a year ago and joined Beacon Academy…" she hesitated, waiting for an outburst from the other chair's occupant. "Good for you," he said, to her surprise. She waited a moment, and then said, "Can I ask you something?" The fire snapped and popped as he replied, "Shoot." "Where are you from?" she said, "The Four Wolves appeared out of nowhere, and I want to know where you're from."

He ran his hand through his curly white hair, exhaling a deep breath. "Can we take a walk?" he asked, sighing.


A peal of thunder rumbled in the distance, announcing the rainstorm passing by. Pyrrha awoke with a jolt. She sat up in her alcove shelter and grabbed her stone-headed spear. Getting into a crouch, she stayed there, listening. After a moment, she cautiously stepped out of her hut. Holding her spear at the ready, she looked around. Not finding anything threatening, Pyrrha headed back into her hut. She sat down in the dirt of her wood-and-mud built hut, dropping her spear next to her.

It had been two months or so since she arrived in this place –realm, dimension, whatever one would call it. Since then her ankle healed as best it could, she explored part of the forest, but only within three hundred or so meters from the tree line, built her hut practically around the alcove, and, most of all, she missed her friends terribly. Her eyes misted over as she thought about Jaune, wondering how he was coping with her…

She broke down and sobbed, not wanting to accept that reality.

A faint voice drifted on the air. To Pyrrha, it sounded vaguely familiar. She took her spear and crawled out of her shelter. She climbed on top of the tallest rock and tried to locate the sound. It called out again, from the forest to her right. She couldn't see anything when she looked in that direction.

When she reached the end of the tree line, the voice sounded again, calling her name. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard it; it sounded like Jaune. As she ran toward the voice, several whispering voices started to ring in her ears, but she paid them no mind. She ran with all her might, anxious to see him again. She entered a clearing, and Jaune's voice called out from her left as clear as day, "Pyrrha!" She turned… And no one was there.

"Pyrrha!" behind her, with a note of urgency…

She turned, to see the same result. A frigid hand touched her shoulder, sending a chill down her spine. She turned, and saw a mound of dirt in the middle of the clearing. "Why Pyrrha, why..." Jaune's voice calmly said as she walked over. A hole was there; not a hole, a grave, and in it, lying prone, was a burnt-up skeleton.

…A burnt-up skeleton wearing her circlet. "Why did you have to die?" the voice echoed through the forest.

"I had to stop Cinder," she lamely replied, looking up.

No answer.

"Jaune, I'm sorry," her eyes teared as she wailed. She looked back at the grave, only to find it missing; disappeared as if it never had existed, replaced by a patch of the wild grass that grew there. She sank to her knees, sobs shaking her body.


Her airship made a pass over the mountain. The closest landing area was at the village. They came in for a landing, and Weiss watched from her window. However, unbeknownst to them, two pairs of eyes watched their decent.

"Well, you don't see that every day," Nick told Blake as they watched. He snickered, "they're looking for me." She looked at him, "How could you possibly–" "The Atlasian military wouldn't give two craps about Nefalhaymn if it weren't for me," he retorted.

A silence filled the space between them. "Well, I'm headin' back," he said, as if nothing happened. She looked at him in disbelief. "The Atlasian military in invading the village looking for you and you're acting like it's nothing more than a school bus drop off?" He looked at her, then down to the village, then back at her and said, "There's only a couple of specialists, nothin' more." He headed back to the lodge.

But this does change things, he thought, I'll have to grab the deed, I'm leaving for good. Blake reluctantly followed him.


Winter looked back at Weiss as they landed, "I'd prefer you stay here, But I need to keep an eye on you so you won't get into any trouble." Weiss looked up and simply nodded, but rebelliously thought, Trouble? I don't get into trouble! Only Ruby or her obnoxious sister got into trouble. I always got them out. "Out of curiosity," Weiss asked, "who are you searching for?" Winter sighed and said, "If the rumors are true, the man once known as the White Wolf; the Last of the Four Wolves; now known as The Ace of Spades, as your Professor Ozpin referred to him." Weiss perked up her ears at that, "Are you saying that that old story is true?" Winter gave no further comment.


There was something nagging at Blake. As she walked beside Nick on their way back, she decided to deal with it. "How did you know I was a Faunas?" She tentatively asked. He chuckled good-naturedly and said, "Well, when you said you were an ex-member of the White Fang, that was a dead giveaway; but the first hint, really, was when your bow twitched on its own." Her bow twitched again, much to Blake's chagrin, and she turned away to hide her blush.

He stopped, almost astonished by her actions. She kept going for a few steps, but then realized he stopped. "I hope you're not ashamed for being a Faunas," he said, "I can understand hiding –what I presume are your ears– to avoid discrimination, but never be ashamed of who you are, even if you're born with it." "Do you think it's easy being a Faunas?!" she retorted. He simply shrugged, "could be worse." He walked on. "You could be like we were," he said, gesturing to himself. She furrowed her brow, "And what exactly was that?"

He paused, turned, and flashed a bizarre, Cheshire-cat like grin. "Abnormal."


Pyrrha picked herself up off the ground. She looked around, finding nothing but trees. She didn't know where she was, and she didn't know how to get back. However, when she entered the forest again, she easily reoriented herself, and made her way back to her hut. It took nearly two hours to get out of the woods. As she made her way to her outcropping, she suddenly stopped, spying movement near her hut. Crouching down, she moved to cover, and peered around the rock she hid behind. A man sat next to her tent, his back turned to her, wearing armour similar to Jaune's, in fact…

She gasped as she recognized him. Standing up, she called out, "Jaune?" He got up and turned to face her, wearing Jaune's face. He smiled a calm, reassuring, and –to Pyrrha– disarming smile. "Hello Pyr," he said, "I've missed you." She took a step forward, then two, and then ran to him. She practically fell into his embrace, moaning, "Oh Jaune, oh Jaune I've missed you too!"

The voices returned, indistinctly whispering among the rocks.

They held each other for mere minutes, before Pyrrha asked, "What's that?" noticing the voices. "Just the breeze," he dismissed, and then kissed her neck. She responded with a short gasp. He pulled back and kissed her crimson hair. Pyrrha sighed and shivered, her skin tingling. "Pyr," he said. "Mmm?" she replied, looking up with love-struck eyes. "I came here to set you free from this place; you need to pass on from here to the place you deserve to go," he continued. For a split second, barely too fast to perceive, Pyrrha saw his eyes change from his blue to an animalistic –perhaps even demonic– yellow. Cinder's eyes.

Suddenly he drew his sword, an obsidian-black tri-hander; not Crocea Mors. The motion threw her to the ground. She looked up in shock as he drew back to impale her. She rolled before the sword hit the ground. Muscle memory took over and she kicked his legs out from under him. She looked around for her spear, finding it lying mere yards away. She scrambled and grabbed it, turning around with it at the ready.

She was too late, he was upon her in an instant, and he thrust his sword through her; right where Cinder's arrow pierced only months ago. Pyrrha screamed.

You betrayed me Pyrrha, the man who wore Jaune's face twisted in anger and betrayal said with Jaune's voice inside Pyrrha's head, You will never be forgiven for what you did. He started to vanish like smoke in the wind, along with his sword. She sank in a fit of hysteria, the voices nearly a torrent of whispers.

A/N: well, here's another one. I'm still alive 'n kickin' and things are okay. I decided to post this chapter before my birthday so I won't worry about it. And yes, I didn't forget about Pyrrha.

... Let's go to the Reviews!

GamehunterMC: Thanks! I'm glad you appreciated It.

TheOkWriter: Well, the thing is, Nick owed Qrow a Favor, that and he gets bored. although the Crazy depends on your definition... all I'll say is that he's sane... mostly.

merendinoemiliano: oh, you might not like what's coming up. FYI, there's more to the Legend.

Thank you all for reading!