A/N: Good day, people! Another week, another post, another Turkey Day to slog through three dinners with!
Someone asked me if I had any intentions of bringing the other Scions back into the fold. Hopefully, this chapter answers that question. With that said, thank you all for reading once again!
"What do you mean, you don't know?!" Thancred roared at the Ascian.
The remaining Scions found themselves in the Occular alongside Emet-Selch and the Crystal Exarch.
It had been a week since Aran had disappeared with Y'Shtola and Ryne, leading Urianger and Emet-Selch to think of any and all possibilities as to what happened and where they may have gone. In that timeframe, they had come up with only one solid conclusion when the Exarch had reluctantly stated that he had found no trace of Aran in the First.
"Exactly what I said. I do not know where she went, ergo she has likely traveled to a Shard that has hereforto been unexplored. At least by myself."
"Then you will find them, damn you!" Alisaie demanded.
The weary Ascian turned away from them as he began to pace, his hunched gait disappearing as his mind worked.
"It isn't as easy as that! In your cases, I can follow the Lifestream to find your bodies or vice versa, but I haven't either of those available to me for any of those three."
The Exarch frowned.
"Y'Shtola's body yet remains in the Source."
"Except it doesn't. I already checked. Believe me when I say that I want to find Aran just as badly as you."
Urianger crossed his arms.
"The Warrior of Light is not your Azem."
"I KNOW THAT!" the Ascian shouted, surprising them all. "Believe you me, I am well aware that she is but a fraction! The largest fraction! But that is not why I seek her safety."
Thancred's eyes narrowed as his former suspicions reared themselves.
"You do truly care for her," the man muttered. "What a farce. You used her and cast her aside, along with your family."
At this, Alphinaud and Alisaie were lost as Thancred continued. It seemed the twins were the only ones unaware of Aran's connection to Garlemald.
"Do not try to state otherwise."
"You ephemeral beings know nothing. Even now, you do not truly understand what she is. You think her to be a mortal shell blessed with the largest fragment of Azem, even possessing her true name. Or least, her nickname among her friends. And yet, you have not thought of the reason why she is capable of containing the aether of the Lightwardens. The blessing of Hydaelyn? Don't make me laugh. It may help her control the aether, but it does not provide her resistance to it. She was never tempered to Her, which means much more than you think."
The thoughtful form of Urianger gasped.
"Dost thou mean to say… she remains a pure Ancient?!"
The others all looked at Urianger for an explanation, yet it came from Emet-Selch instead.
"Quite so. The only one that remains, in fact. You must understand what that means, Elezen, even if the others do not. I shall explain for the simple-minded."
He strode to the center of the room, glancing at the Exarch.
"I'm borrowing your toy."
He reached up with a hand and snapped, sending the room into darkness. Then, four shrouded forms appeared.
"I'll start with what the difference in your ideology between what an Ascian and an Ancient is. We Ascians are tempered to Zodiark, at least those of us that you know. When the Planet was sundered, there were Ascians tempered to Hydaelyn as well. An Ancient remains untempered, possessing the entirety of their mind and original ideology, owing their allegiance to none."
As he spoke, one of the robed forms began to bow down. Above him, miniscule versions of Hydaelyn and Zodiark began to circle above his head.
"This led to a diminishing of our full potential. Skills that should not have been forgotten, went unused. When the Planet was sundered by Hydaelyn, most of us had our souls sundered as well. Three of us escaped this fate: myself as Emet-Selch, Lahabrea, and Elidibus."
Once more, another of the forms knelt, before it divided into thirteen small fractions.
"We attempted to reform some of our past acquaintances. One which you are familiar with being Nabriales. While a mere shadow of who they once were, they were still powerful in their own right."
The third robed figure knelt and split similarly to the one before it, until several of them recombined into a smaller form of the bowing figure. This too had Hydaelyn and Zodiark circling its head.
"And finally, an untempered Ancient. Aran's revelation has changed much. Even though she may be a fraction, the Source has always held the largest. But now, there are seven, possibly eight others that have merged with her depending on the status of the First's fragment of Azem."
"The Umbral Calamities." Alphinaud stated.
"Correct. An Ancient possesses a mastery of aether manipulation that far surpasses any other race that we created, as well as a near limitless amount of mana. I suppose I should say 'did', as being tempered damaged our minds. As I said before, what should have not been forgotten, was lost."
The room returned to normal with another snap.
"And what does this have to do with where our friends have disappeared to?" Thancred asked.
Emet-Selch slumped forward once more.
"I do not know which Shard they have disappeared to. But I can hazard an accurate guess, and you will not like it."
"Enough with your riddles, Ascian." The Exarch demanded. "I would know where my greatest hope, no, my greatest friend, has ended up."
"I'm hazarding a guess that they have arrived in the Eighth. Which presents a problem, as that Shard is firmly at war with itself thanks to two fragments of the same Ascian."
"You can't order them to halt their war?" Alphinaud inquired.
"I'm afraid not. This Ascian is tempered to Hydaelyn. Even worse, each half split himself further into two minor entities, one of which even further split himself into four. Judicai has made quite a mess of things."
"Then take us there. Now." Thancred demanded.
Emet-Selch shook his head defeatedly.
"I cannot. The two main fragments of Judicai have created a form of ward, isolating the Shard from outside interference. To pierce it, we would need Hydaelyn's aid. And she will provide no succor to the likes of me."
Urianger stepped forward.
"Then but one path yet remains. One we have walked for a year or longer. Vauthry must perish, and his aether used to pierce this veil of the Eighth. I would offer my life in exchange for granting everyone this chance."
Silence reigned, until the Exarch stepped forward.
"It shall not come to that, Urianger, though I thank you for your mercy. No, it shall be I who pays the ultimate tithe. 'Tis I who brought you all to the First, and I who shall right my wrongs."
Emet-Selch looked to each of the faces before him in astonishment as he felt something wet trickle down his cheek.
"You would sacrifice yourselves for one not of your kind?" He asked.
Alisaie crossed her arms as she scowled at the Ascian.
"Of course we would. Nevermind that Y'Shtola and Ryne are there as well, but Aran has sacrificed everything for us on more than one occasion. It is because of her that any of us still draw breath. If you were to go to the Source, you would find entire nations willing to sacrifice everything if it meant following her. She is the keystone of the Source, and to the Scions, whether she knows it or not."
Emet-Selch looked at his right hand, his fingers slowly clenching into a fist. The time he had spent with these Scions had slowly been changing his opinions of them in their flawed existence. He had always imagined them incapable of thinking of the larger picture, and unwilling to make the sacrifices needed. It was why he had condemned them all in his heart to be sacrifices to Zodiark, to return the Planet to what it once was. But now, he could feel the tiniest spark of hope for these creatures. Maybe, if they have Azem to guide them, they just might be able to do what must be done to keep safe the Planet. And if this were the case… then the Rejoining was a needless cruelty.
"You know not how true your words are, little Elezen." His weary slump straightened up as his facial features donned a look of determination. "Aranaea, Azem, whatever you wish to call her, we shall save her, and your little friends."
Urianger smiled. "Then shallt the tale of Aran wir Galvus rise from the ashes of defeat?" The Elezen's words made the twins blink in surprise, clearly not having expected those words. "Or shall her name return to life as Aran zos Galvus?"
Emet-Selch frowned, but his determination continued to spread through his body.
"I am no fool, and you're more intelligent than to think she would do any such thing. Let us focus our attention on Vauthry. How do you intend on fighting this creature?"
"In any way we can. First, we'll have to get to him on top of Mount Gulg." The male twin replied.
"Spare me the specifics of your getting there. I asked how you were going to face Vauthry himself."
"We'll manage it somehow." Alphinaud stated.
The Ascian shook his head.
"And march to your deaths in so trying, I would imagine. Very well, I shall aid you in Aran's place. But know this; I aid you not because I feel for your cause, but because of your Warrior of Light."
Thancred nodded.
"Then let us be about the details of how we're going to reach Mount Gulg."
The return trip to Junior's nightclub was quiet, something that Aran was thankful for. The only thing of note was a flash of green hair and dark skin that stumbled past her, attempting to pick her pocket. The attempt was quite good, Aran had decided, except for the fact that her enchanted bags were magically tethered to herself. A gentle tug was felt, then the girl gave up when she realized that her bags would not yield beneath her ministrations.
It was nearly two in the morning when she finally arrived at the nightclub and walked into the building. It was clear that the business was closing, seeing Junior outside the bar and speaking to his twin bodyguards.
Her entrance was noticed a moment after her arrival, causing the large man to smile.
"Ah, the woman of the evening arrives. I heard about a scuffle at the harbor. That was your work, I assume?"
Aran nodded as she approached, pulling out her scroll.
"Indeed. You wished to know why Torchwick killed your thugs, yes?"
The man motioned to a barstool next to him, smiling as she took the offered seat.
The information gathered from Torchwick made Junior frown.
"Just business, is it? Perhaps it's time for the kingpin of Vale's cartel to feel a bit of a sting. But, to business. You're asking about Ozpin?"
The Viera nodded.
"There's not a whole lot out there on the man, despite his station. Very secretive about his dealings, and it's lately become a problem for the Council of Vale. Word on the streets say that the man's found some survivors of Erza, keeps them hidden in his Academy when they should have been hailed as heroes for their service and loss during the Great War. More importantly, you might be interested to know that the man shares some very similar views to the late King of Vale."
"And this is noteworthy… how?"
"Because the boy who would become Ozpin originally held very opposing views. When Ozpin took his place as the youngest Headmaster of a Huntsman Academy, it drew the attention of the current King of Vale. While he may not hold the sway that the late King held, in part due to the establishment of the Academies and Council, it sparked the interest of the Kingsguard, the private protection of the King. Torchwick, from the sounds of it, gave you a time and place to meet him. I recommend you do so."
"And why should I?"
"Because he keeps his word when he gives it. Liar and a cheat he may be, but he always keeps his word. The trick is making him give it. That's what I've got for you."
Aran nodded as she rose to her feet. She began to walk away when Junior spoke again.
"Thank you for looking into what happened to my boys. Next time you need a drink or two, it's on the house."
Aran merely waved at him as she walked out, not bothering to turn around.
True to Aran's suspicions, The Velvet Boudoir was essentially a brothel disguised as a hotel within Vale's industrial district, sandwiched down an alley between a factory and a small out-of-business Dust shop.
When she entered, she was unsurprised by the musk of sex that had been drowned out by cheap perfume and incense. Nothing new to her nostrils, aside from the scent of the perfume.
She approached the front desk, wary of the eyes that traveled to her and the scowl the woman at the desk made upon seeing her ears.
"We do not serve your kind. Begone."
Aran rose an eyebrow and crossed her arms.
"I did not come seeking a warm body."
The woman's eyes lit up slightly.
"Ah, you seek work then? Yes, I suppose there some that would love to touch those ears of yours."
As she spoke, a shorter woman wearing a rather provocative dress strode up to the desk and tapped on a button, bringing up a video screen that Aran couldn't see from her end.
"Send her up to my room, Prim. Neo will show her the way."
Torchwick's voice, and sounding somewhat hoarse.
"A-as you wish, sir." The video disappeared, leaving the woman to stand and bow slightly. "My apologies, ma'am. I did not know you were who he was waiting for. He doesn't normally associate with faunus when he can avoid it."
The short woman in the dress smiled at the receptionist before grabbing Aran's hand and leading her through a doorway with drapes. The sound of shattering glass revealed Neo as her illusion disappeared.
"All better, I take it?" Aran asked as they walked. At her words, Neo stopped them and turned to face her, a somewhat maniacal grin adorning her lips as she reached into her pocket and withdrew her scroll. She tapped on it several times, before showing it to Aran.
Much better! :) You nearly hurt me. Next time, make sure I'm awake for the pain, won't you?
Aran blinked as she looked at the characters in confusion.
"I don't know your written language."
With a small huff, Neo settled with winking at her and resumed walking. They climbed two flights of stairs before arriving at a room that looked to be in the very center of the floor. Neo withdrew a keycard and slid it past a scanner next to the door, then dragged them in.
Aran was half expecting a bedroom converted into some sort of office. She was not disappointed as she found Torchwick sitting at a desk that had been dragged to the center of the room. On the opposite side of the desk was a chair that Aran promptly sat in.
"Torchwick."
The man in the bowler hat nodded and sat back, arms crossed. Melodic Cudgel rested on the desk itself, out of reach.
"Pretty lady."
"Aran Vinland."
"Aran, then. I'll skip right to the point. Why do you want to know about Ozpin?"
The Warrior smirked.
"I don't trust him, and there are things he isn't telling me which I would like to learn. I have it on good authority that you know things about him that others don't."
The crime lord didn't answer immediately, though when he did, his tone was serious.
"I know more than most. But before I answer that, let me ask you something. What do you know about a woman named Cinder Fall?"
"Absolutely nothing. I assume this is the woman who holds your leash?"
Torchwick nodded.
"She does. And so far, I've been able to dig up absolutely nothing about her. She's making a big move against Beacon and Vale, and while I don't give a flying fuck about Beacon, Vale is my city."
"Then why are you working with her?"
"Because Neo and I don't have a choice. Where we run, she can always find us. I don't know how, and I don't understand why, but she can. So here we are, her little pawns as she sets my city up to fall. I'll give you what I told her about Ozpin, under the condition that you in turn help me break the leash she has on us. And, I'll even tell you anything else she tells us."
Aran cocked her head.
"And why are you putting so much trust in me?"
The man leaned forward.
"Because you are a complete unknown to Cinder. And, I'll be honest, not many people can match Neo. I may be the criminal mastermind, but Neo is the physical talent of the relationship. Without her flame making, fireball slinging ways, I know that Neo can at least match her."
"Fire?" Aran asked in surprise.
"Fire." Roman confirmed. "Whatever it is, it isn't her Semblance. And it isn't Dust, either."
Magick? Aran thought to herself as Roman slid forward another inch.
"Let me make this perfectly clear. Neither of us are here because we want to be, but because we need to be. Neo and I value our lives, and we value our city. Cinder -"
"Is a threat to those, yes. So how are you going to keep in touch?"
Roman glanced at Neo.
"It's actually more simple than you think. You're a student at Beacon. Neo is going to be attending Beacon soon as well, as a student on a team with Cinder and her two brats. Anything I learn, and anything that she learns, will be sent to your scroll. On the off chance she gets her hands on your scroll -"
"My scroll is programmed in a different language. There should be no problem there."
Roman rolled his eyes and continued as if he wasn't interrupted.
"- our messages will not be leaving behind a signature."
Aran nodded slowly.
"Very well. And I have your word that everything you've said is true?"
This time, the man in the bowler hat locked eyes with her.
"You have my word. I may be the scum of humanity, but I'm rather fond of humanity existing."
The Viera stood and began to make her way out the door until Hush, still damaged, blocked her way. The petite assassin quickly took out her scroll and held up to Aran, placing Hush under arm and used her Semblance to make another scroll. Then she made to tap the real and illusion together, and pointed back at her expectantly.
Taking out her scroll, Aran tapped it to Neo's and raised an eyebrow as she realized it had added her as a contact.
"Technology," Aran muttered, making her exit.
Aran landed back at Beacon just after noon. Disembarking the airship revealed Dolan standing and waiting for her.
"Glad you could finally make it back. Ozpin wants to see you."
The Warrior nodded, motioning for him to continue. She was done with speaking more than was required for that day.
The trip was relatively quiet, interrupted only by Dolan greeting one of his team members. Upon arriving at the elevator, Dolan was relieved by Professor Goodwitch, who likewise said nothing to the Warrior of Light.
The next words to be spoken were by Ozpin, after she had entered his office and taken a seat by his desk.
"Welcome back to Beacon. It seems you've had an interesting night." When Aran simply nodded, Ozpin continued. "You did very well last night with handling the White Fang. Like those who were with you last night, I have excused you from attending classes today. Your teammates should be bringing back the day's work once classes are finished."
Aran nodded, raising an eyebrow.
"That's not all you wanted to talk about."
"No, it isn't. I tried talking to Y'Shtola about-"
"Her magick. I heard. We're big girls, Ozpin, don't lie to us. Why does our magick concern you so?"
The man took a drink from his mug before he steepled his fingers and leaned forward.
"Tell me Ms. Vinland, do you believe in fairy tales?"
The door leading to Team ARY's dorm slammed open as Aran stormed inside. Luckily, neither her lover nor the Oracle were inside, having attended classes that day. It was for the best, as Aran's mind was roiling with rage directed at the Headmaster.
Their conversation had lasted close to an hour and a half, with the latter half hour being more of an argument that accomplished little aside from setting them both on edge around each other for the foreseeable future.
After the man had finished relaying to her the story of the Four Maidens, an effort that had taken close to half an hour on its own due to her asking questions, the man had attempted to claim that Y'Shtola was most certainly one of the Maidens, Summer, while he was unsure where Aran fell into the equation due to her damaged soul.
It was this last revelation that had set Aran on edge; to see someone's soul was not something common. Ryne and Y'Shtola were very special cases, while Hades and the other Ascians were not even human. So how did Ozpin possess this ability? She was aware that she had stated that her Aura was spotty because of her soul, but the man had made some comments about it that hinted at much more than mere hearsay. He had even mentioned her 'luminescence' in regards to it.
She glanced down at the hand she could see emitting light that pierced her armor and clothes. The Light aether seemed to pulse within her, as if feeling her rage. Even now, with the pulsing almost coinciding with what she had wished to do to the man, she could feel her control slipping.
The Headmaster even had the audacity to demand from her an explanation of her abilities. She had refused, and when he pressed her about revealing more for her own safety, she was ashamed to admit that she had snapped. She had realized only afterwards that when she had stood, Light aether leaking from her eyes and fist in the form of white-gold light, the man's smile was not duplicitous as she had originally assumed.
It was one of victory, of a confirmed suspicion.
But the words exchanged had also proven something to Aran as well: Ozpin would do anything to keep them in his sight. A particularly sharp insult had proven that, when his only response was to clench his jaw instead of removing Aran from his Academy.
He had also let slip an important detail that Aran was confident he hadn't meant to let slip.
"The Maidens are not objects with which we won the Great War."
We. Ozpin was alive during the Great War.
Taking a deep breath, Aran began removing her armor and placed it on a stand next to her bed, the stand having been made a couple weeks ago.
Her plain clothes followed, being tossed onto a pile of other dirty clothes. Then she collapsed on her bed, closing her eyes as she attempted to put her mind at ease enough to sleep.
She was awoken by the feeling of a slight tickle between her breasts, nearly causing a panic as her eyes shot open.
"There is nothing to fear. Though, I would recommend wearing something more than your birthday suit. Poor Ryne's face has been tomato red for the past hour. Between you and me, I think she enjoys the view."
Y'Shtola's voice calmed her immediately, though she still reached for the woman's tail as it kept moving slowly over her skin.
"Keep doing that, and she's going to be seeing and hearing much more," Aran replied as she gently moved the appendage away. She stood and went to her dresser, pulling out an Ishgardian dress and underclothes. As she made her way to the bathroom, she glanced at her scroll's clock.
"One in the morning? What have you two been doing?" Aran asked, ignoring Ryne's shifting to avoid seeing her.
"Weiss Schnee decided to have a bit of a heart to heart conversation with myself and Ryne. Regarding you."
That caused Aran to pause briefly.
"And?"
"She believes that she is ready to speak to you."
The Warrior nodded, then entered the bathroom and closed the door. Ryne looked to Y'Shtola.
"Why do you insist on teasing me like that?"
The Miqo'te shrugged with a twinkling eye.
"Mostly because it's rather entertaining. I see why Aran did it so often."
"You two have no shame."
"Aran, perhaps. I'd like to think I'm better than that."
The two women bantered back and forth for a few more minutes until they fell asleep. Aran followed shortly after, setting aside the dress for the next day.
At dawn, all three of them were awake and discussing Ozpin's conversation with Aran.
"So these Maidens…" Ryne muttered, only to be interrupted by Y'Shtola.
"They're individuals on this Shard that can freely manipulate aether. But what I want to know is what makes them different from everyone else? Why does their ability move on to the next person in their thoughts, and why only a female?"
It was Aran who solved part of the puzzle just before they needed to leave for class.
"Suppose Ozpin is the old man, and Ozpin is a sundered Ascian? If he was present during the Great War, then it's quite possible he's jumping body to body."
"Ascians cannot sunder themselves. That's only something Hydaelyn… oh. I think I understand what you're saying."
Aran nodded to her lover.
"Suppose the Ascian in question was in fact not loyal to Zodiark, but to Hydaelyn instead. It isn't too far gone to assume that the Ascian could do it. But the question is why? We're missing key pieces of information, assuming that this is what happened. If this is an Ascian, they are not a member of the Convocation of Fourteen. All of them, with the exception of myself, were tempered to Zodiark. So that leaves only a handful of Ascians that I know of. If we can learn more about them, I could possibly identify them."
Seeing that they would be late for their classes if they continued their conversation, they shelved it for later discussion and went to class.
There were noticeably more students attending the class throughout the day, showing that a majority of the foreign students had arrived. Team SSSN was in their first class with Professor Port, leading to Sun introducing his team with Aran returning the favor. By the time class was dismissed, Aran had also woken Jaune up no less than four times.
When lunch rolled around, Weiss had approached the Warrior of Light and asked to speak with her. Agreeing, they went into the courtyard to eat rather than remain in the cafeteria. They sat beneath a tree, enjoying the clear skies and shade.
"I've been thinking about what you said, and conferred with both my team and your own as well," the heiress began. "And I believe I've come to a conclusion."
"Then let's hear it."
"Your actions are governed by your past experiences, which likely have required you to defend yourself from both humanoid opponents and Grimm. As such, you've adapted to your situations. While your method of fighting seems to be cruel, it is also a very intelligent way to go about it. But most importantly, your words were meant to serve as a lesson."
The Viera nodded, letting the Schnee continue.
"And that lesson is that anything can happen if someone is desperate enough."
Aran cocked her head slightly, nodding after a moment.
"That's one way of putting it, I suppose. There's more to it, but you're on the right track. Keep thinking about it, and I'm sure it will help you in the future once you figure it out."
Weiss nodded to herself as Aran stood with her tray. Before she walked away, she looked back down at the heiress.
"And Weiss? You're doing good work. I won't apologize for my earlier words, but don't mistake necessary candor for hate. That you're fighting the way you were brought up because you know it to be wrong speaks louder than words. Fate is what you choose to make of it, not what you are destined to become."
Then she was gone, moving with a grace and silence that Weiss thought nobody of Aran's stature should possess. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she watched Cardin Winchester catch the woman's attention and slip into place next to the rabbit faunus.
Weiss mentally compared Aran to Velvet Scarletina, wondering how the two were such complete opposites.
Class resumed as normal, with the days passing in a rather calm routine. When Friday came, Aran was called on in combat class once more to duel Cardin.
The fight itself was anticlimactic, with Aran simply avoiding or parrying Cardin's mace to the side. As they fought, Aran realized why the boy's swings were so clumsy.
After another parry that forced his mace into the ground, the Warrior stepped on the weapon, preventing Cardin from lifting it back up. He growled as he attempted to pull against the woman, until her fist made impact with his solar plexus.
"Think, Cardin. You knew better than to try and match my strength," she muttered to him. "You have more at your disposal than your weapon."
The boy released his grip with one hand and attempted to swing back at Aran, growling once more as she caught his wrist.
"Good."
With the foot not on his mace, she kicked at the wrist that still clutched the weapon and smiled when he released it completely.
"Do you wish to continue?" the Warrior asked as she watched his expressions. They waited for nearly half a minute before the boy shook his head.
"I don't know how to fight without my weapon. Not effectively, anyway." He muttered.
"Good to know your flaws. This is going to hurt."
Cardin's eyes widened when her foot rose once more, planting itself into his groin. As he bent over in pain, her hilt made impact with his left temple, sending him to the ground instantly.
Goodwitch called the round, declaring Aran the victor. Class ended shortly after, dismissing everyone to dinner. This was how the next month went, with Aran resuming her talks with Pyrrha that night and speaking to Ardbert on Mondays. The hours after class were dedicated to studying the world, as well as Aran asking Y'Shtola about merging with the First's fragment of her soul.
Her lover provided no definite answer, promising instead to look into the matter when she could. It was the best Aran could have hoped for, and she made sure that her lover knew her gratitude.
Ryne continued to build a closer relationship with Team RWBY, something that brought a smile to Aran's lips. The girl had been through much, and never had a childhood. She was happy to see her act like a girl her age, making friends with those not fifteen years her senior. While the twins may have been close to her age, and befriended her, neither were great examples of having a true childhood.
With aid from Aran and Pyrrha, Jaune's swordsmanship grew with astonishing speed. The Viera had picked up on the blonde's ability to form basic, yet highly effective tactics in a split second. While his partner drilled sword forms into his mind and instinct, it was Aran that sharpened his wit and cunning through sparring. She would intentionally leave gaps in her defense, and make the boy find and exploit them using the forms his partner had taught.
At first, Pyrrha thought the Viera was being rather rough in her retaliations when Jaune didn't find the gap in her defense, but it was the boy himself who told her to let Aran be. It became clear in the middle of the month that it was working, as Jaune was pitted against Cardin once more. This time, the blonde was able to reduce his opponent's Aura down to half before miscalculating the mace's trajectory.
Cardin and his team began spending more time with ARY and JNPR, forming a surprisingly close bond that rivaled MOAT's. They too began to join the Sunday training, where Aran had pointed out to Cardin that he was using his mace like a claymore. After explaining to him that it would be better to either build a new weapon or alter his fighting style, the boy promised to think about which path he would go down.
Team MOAT began dragging Aran with them to meet another team named CFVY (Coffee), apparently made up of second year students. When Amy had introduced Aran to Coco Adel in Vale during a weekend, the Warrior knew she was going to need to have a talk with the faunus about ditching her to the fashionista's clutches. It was at this moment that Aran also realized that she absolutely hated shopping. Why pay for things that she could easily craft?
Neo had found Aran inside Beacon the second week after returning to the academy. She informed the Warrior of anything that she and Torchwick could dig up, though it ultimately led to no ground breaking discoveries. Whoever this Cinder woman was, she kept her plans close. While Neo was attending Beacon with a 'team', she had freely admitted to being the only member physically within the school. Aran's intervention with the shipment heist had put the woman on edge, delaying her arrival within the academy in order to make sure her tracks were covered.
Thus did the semester reach its end, and set another to begin two weeks later. Some students left to return home during the break, though most stayed in order to enjoy the festivities of the Vytal Festival. It became clear to ARY that the Vytal Festival was a far greater celebration than they had ever seen, apparently set to keep going until the end of the school year in its entirety.
It was the day before the second semester was set to start, when Aran found herself in a bar drinking with a man that looked to be around forty. What would have been a rather good looking suit if not for a few stains and being only half tucked in was further soured by a red half-cape. On his back rested a sword that looked to be as complex as Ruby's Crescent Rose.
The two had been drinking for nearly an hour until Aran asked for the man's name.
"Ah, right. Name's Qrow, though I'd say a woman as beautiful as yourself has one much better."
Aran blinked in recognition of the name, mentally cursing to herself in her inebriated state. Another curse was directed towards Coco, who was trying to take her shopping through Vale until Aran found an opportunity to escape by ducking into the bar.
Seeing the man's slightly glazed eyes resting on her form expectantly, Aran smiled and reached towards him with an open hand.
"Aran Vinland."
His eyes sobered up instantly as he took her hand in a firm grip and shook it.
"Really? That's a name you don't hear very often."