Chapter Nine: Plans
"Wait – you do?" Oscar was shocked by the Headmaster's statement. After everything he'd said the day before, the doubts that he'd expressed… what had caused such a quick turnaround? Oscar still wasn't even sure he fully believed his own theory, even if it was the only thing that made sense and allowed him to reconcile the things he knew had happened with the fact that Ozpin was alive, and with the fact that it was apparently two years before any of those events would even happen.
"Yes." Ozpin's brown eyes were fixed on him. There was a weariness there that Oscar hadn't seen the day before, but nothing about Ozpin's manner signaled that the Headmaster was lying to him. "I spent much of last night and today thinking about everything that you have said. I don't understand how it could happen, since it goes against everything that I thought I knew about the gods and the old magic, and I don't understand why it would happen here and now."
"What do you mean?" Oscar asked.
"There have been other times, other incarnations I've lived when the fate of many lives lay in the balance, dependent on the decisions that she or I make. The Great War is only one example of many such times. Yet through all of that, a future incarnation has never come back to help or to try to change events," the headmaster explained. "What that could mean both interests me and fills me with some level of dread."
"Oh. I understand," Oscar said. He dropped his head to look at the cream blanket over his lap. "I – well, thank you, I guess. For believing me, I mean." He toyed with the top edge of the blanket, where a satiny fabric had been stitched down over the raw edge of the softer cotton. "I – I guess you want to talk about what I know, right? So you can start making plans to counter her?" He wasn't really looking forward to that discussion, even now that Ozpin had indicated his belief.
How was he supposed to tell Ozpin that he would die by burning to death in the Beacon Vault? Or how did he explain Lionheart's betrayal and Ja – the General's fall? Just because Ozpin believed him now, it didn't mean that the Headmaster fully trusted him. After what had happened in Argus, Oscar was more than a little wary of people turning on him for simply being the bearer of bad news.
"I do, but not here," Ozpin said. "What you have to say is important, and I'd prefer to have Glynda and possibly another ally of mine there for that discussion. I also want to have it safely in my office at Beacon Tower, where I can control access and I can be sure we won't be interrupted."
"Okay." That was a bit of a reprieve at least. It gave him time to think about how he would approach that conversation when the time came to have it, at least. "So… what happens next?"
Ozpin moved to sit in the chair that the detective had vacated and – once again – leaned Long Memory against the armrest. Oscar wondered about the fact that he didn't compact the cane down the way Oscar always did when he wasn't using it as a weapon. What was the point of giving it the ability to compact if Ozpin always carried it extended? Was it just a personal preference?
"You need to finish healing before we can discuss continuing your training, if that's really what you want," Ozpin said. "I will assume that you have at least been given some basic grounding in fighting Grimm?"
Oscar nodded. "Yeah. I had killed a few small Grimm on the farm before you first spoke to me. Once we found Qrow and got Long Memory back, you started teaching me – us – how to fight and teaching me how to use Long Memory." He glanced at the cane again, some part of him aching to hold it – he'd finally come to accept what was happening to him and he'd begun to consider Long Memory to be his, but it was still Ozpin's now. He would have to come up with a different weapon in the meantime.
Ozpin made a little humming noise in his throat as he considered Oscar thoughtfully. "But you never had a weapon of your own before you inherited Long Memory?"
Oscar shook his head.
"Alright. If you've already begun learning with Long Memory, we'll probably want to continue you with a similar weapon. It will make the transition easier when I eventually come back to you."
Oscar dropped his gaze back to the blanket again and toyed with the satin edging. "Sure, that makes sense."
"Is something wrong, Oscar?"
"Just…" Oscar hesitated again. "It's nothing."
By the narrow-eyed look that the Headmaster gave him, he could tell that Ozpin didn't believe him. It left Oscar with a conundrum. The fact that Ozpin believed him about coming from the future was a good sign, but there still wasn't any real trust between them yet.
The boy was clearly uncomfortable, and Ozpin suspected it had to do with the idea of the merge. Given some of what he had said the day before – the words he'd spoken in anger when Ozpin had dismissed his assertations that he was the next in the line of incarnations, it was the most reasonable assumption.
The process of reincarnation was lengthy and strenuous. Some of his partners had adapted quickly, accepting him quickly because they understood his mission and what he wanted to achieve. Others had been more resistant, and the process had been more arduous than usual.
Oscar was still young – only fifteen. If he was Oz's next incarnation, not only was he the youngest one ever, but he couldn't have been far into the process. It was unlikely that he had fully accepted everything that being an incarnation meant.
He wondered how much he should push the subject. He didn't want the boy to feel like the only value he had was as an incarnation and information source. But he didn't really know the boy, and he didn't know if he would even be responsive to discussing the topic.
Given the anger that Glynda had observed, perhaps it would be better to let the subject drop for now.
"I brought these for you," he said after a moment of contemplative silence. He picked up the satchel he'd brought from Beacon and laid it on the side of the bed. "Hopefully, it will make your remaining stay here a little more bearable."
Oscar blinked, apparently surprised by the change in topic, before he pulled the satchel close and opened it, pulling out several books. His face brightened considerably as he began looking through them.
"I don't know if you have read any of them yet," Ozpin continued. "But even if you have, it would be better than simply staring at the wall for hours."
"Thank you," Oscar said shyly, but sincerely.
Beacon Tower… Ozpin's Office… Sunday Evening…
Beep… beep…
Ozpin cleared the notification on his screen and looked toward the elevator. "Come in."
The elevator doors slid apart with the soft ding and revealed the tall, lanky man leaning against the rear wall of the car. He wore faded black pants and thick-soled, sturdy leather boots. His pale grey button-down shirt was trimmed in black at the collar, sleeves, and pockets, and he had a tattered red cape slung over his shoulders. Pushing off the wall, the man strode into the office with long strides.
"Qrow," Ozpin greeted, rising from his chair, and moving to stand in front of the desk. "I'm glad to see that you made it back safely." Qrow was one of the best huntsmen that Ozpin knew, but he worked alone which was always a risk when dealing with Grimm, no matter how skilled one was.
"Hey Oz," Qrow replied as he crossed the room and clapped a hand gently on Oz's shoulder. He squeezed slightly, in a friendly way. "Wasn't expecting you to call me back in such a hurry."
"I wasn't expecting to need to call you back in such a hurry," Ozpin replied ruefully. His own hand came up to clasp Qrow's where it rested on his shoulder, and he returned the friendly squeeze. "I know it's been a long trip back from Vaccuo for you – do you want a chair?"
"Nah, I'm fine," Qrow replied, releasing him, and moving over to one of the pillars a short distance away. He leaned back against the stone, resting his weight on one leg as he brought the other one up to brace behind him against the pillar. He shoved a hand into his shirt and pulled out a battered metal flask. "Was able to catch an airship to Vale, so I didn't spend much time on the wing myself. Just from where I was when I got your message to the closest village, and then from the airship dock to the Academy." He unscrewed the cap on his flask and took a long swig from it. "So what's the big emergency? Everything seemed calm when I did a flyover, and Glynda's not here to glare at me for being late or doing something against the rules, so I don't think I screwed up somehow."
"No, it's nothing you did," Ozpin assured him as he moved back around behind his desk and reclaimed his seat. "There's just been some unusual occurrences over the last few days, and we may be in position to gain a large advantage over Salem very soon. I wanted you back here so that if that opportunity arises, we're poised to act on it immediately."
Qrow straightened alertly. "Really? Now you've got my interest. What's been going on?"
"It started on Friday afternoon after my class ended…" Ozpin began and explained everything that had happened over the weekend beginning with Oscar's magical arrival. He was gauging Qrow's reaction by the expressions that crossed his face at various points in the story – surprise and awe as he described the magical shield and the black lightning, anger over the boy's wounds, disbelief over the idea of a massive attack against the Academies that might be looming in the future. Remembering Glynda's reaction to the idea that Oscar was Oz's next incarnation, he didn't mention that part of the story just yet.
Like Glynda, Qrow was one of his closest friends in this incarnation – fiercely loyal and dedicated ever since Ozpin had brought him and his sister in all those years ago. Even though Raven had abandoned the fight, Qrow had remained, believing his duty as a Huntsman was more important than his link to the tribe that had raised him. That fierce loyalty was something that Ozpin treasured, after so many betrayals across his many lives. He didn't want to do anything to jeopardize the trust that Qrow had in him, which was why he was careful about how much he revealed and when.
"I don't see it happening, Oz," he replied skeptically when Ozpin finished. "Grimm activity is normal – there doesn't seem to be any indications that she would be massing an attack like that. You've always said she wants to work in the shadows, so why make a big incursion?"
Oz considered his friend, thinking about Glynda's reaction, about his own reaction before he had decided to believe the boy. Qrow could be unpredictable – he might believe it because Oz believed it, or he might be completely resistant to the idea. He didn't want it to become officially known that Oscar may have travelled back in time from the future – that would only put the boy in danger, after all – but he wanted Qrow there when he and Glynda questioned Oscar in a few days. The Huntsman was his spy, his eyes and ears out in the wider world. If Qrow knew what was coming he would know what sorts of things to look for that might herald Salem making her move.
"It's true that she prefers to work from the shadows," Ozpin agreed carefully. "She is manipulative – she always has been, even from the time when my curse was first placed upon me. I suspect – although I do not know for sure – that she never expected me to oppose her for as long or as strongly as I have."
He sighed and rose from his chair again, moving to the window behind his desk and gazing down at the campus far below him. Students were coming and going – those who had gone into the city for the afternoon beginning to trickle back onto campus, no doubt to begin working on last minute assignments before classes resumed the next day, or to meet with friends or teammates for sparring practice.
The notification for the elevator chimed again and he turned enough to see his terminal to see Glynda's name on the screen. "Come in," he said softly, before turning back to the window. He could see her reflected in the glass in front of him as she entered his office. The sharp staccato sound of her heels on the floor heralded her arrival, but whatever had brought her here wasn't voiced as she took in the situation.
"I always knew the Academies would be a target for her," he said quietly, after a moment continuing the conversation where he had been interrupted. "The Relics must be kept out of her hands, and she knows I would do a great deal to prevent her from obtaining even one of them. I didn't expect her to launch an all-out assault immediately after the War and the founding of the Academies, even though it would have been an ideal time, with all of the Kingdoms' forces weakened after the long war." In the glass he could see Glynda looking between the two of them, but she remained silent.
He heard Qrow shifting uncomfortably, followed by quiet footsteps – not the distinctive sound of Glynda's heels – approaching his desk. Ozpin didn't turn around, however, keeping his eyes on the campus and the tiny specks that were his students – brave Huntsmen and Huntresses in training. "We've each had victories of various degrees over the millennia, and that has brought us to where we are now. The Academies give me an advantage when it comes to protecting the Relics – training Huntsmen and Huntresses to oppose her. Knowing that there are people out there who can fight the Grimm brings hope and comfort, thus fewer negative emotions to lure the Grimm, particularly in the outlying villages. She hasn't made a move since the end of the War, so this may be her next ploy in our shadow conflict."
"But how could she hope to succeed?" Qrow asked. "You said it yourself – the Academies are training Huntsmen and Huntresses, all of whom know how to fight the Grimm successfully – to oppose her even if they don't know the full scope of the battle we're fighting. That's not even taking the teachers and the professional Huntsmen based in the Kingdom into account. Why bring a force against the very warriors capable of destroying them?"
"That is one of many things I am hoping that Oscar can tell us when we question him after he's been released from the hospital. When I last spoke with his doctor, she said that he should be able to start moving around more tomorrow, for limited periods of time, but he should be well enough to be released by Friday. Since I have classes and a Council meeting that day, I would like to question him on Saturday." Ozpin finally turned away from the window but didn't return to his seat. His eyes flicked over to Glynda, seeing her emotionless expression as she listened.
Qrow sighed and took another swig from his flask. "Maybe. But something you haven't explained yet, Oz. Why would Salem – or her boot-lickers – talk about her plans in front of some random kid?"
And here was the dilemma. Did he tell Qrow about where Oscar truly came from or not? Glynda knew, but Glynda had been there when the boy arrived and had seen the shield and the lightning.
"Oscar believes he has a theory as to what happened," Ozpin said carefully. "While it may seem ridiculous when I first explain it, I've given careful consideration to it and his theory does seem to fit all of the facts that we have to date."
Qrow gave him a squinty-eyed look. "You're being mysterious again Oz."
Now or never. Ozpin inhaled slowly before he spoke. "Oscar believes that he has travelled back in time at least two years, possibly more than that."
Qrow blinked before letting out a harsh but amused chortle reminiscent of his namesake. "That's a good one Oz. Time travel." He chortled again, his vocal chords roughened by the long years of nearly constant drinking.
Ozpin didn't say anything, simply waited and let his silence speak for itself. He kept his hands folded behind his back while Qrow's laughter faded, and the other Huntsman realized that neither Ozpin nor Glynda were laughing or admitting to the joke. "Wait… you're serious?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Ozpin asked in response.
"But…"
"Glynda and I have explored every other theory we can think of to explain how Oscar appeared in my office with a shield of my own magic protecting him when I wasn't the one to conjure it. It also explains how Oscar knows of future events and has apparently lived through them when – as you have observed – there would be no need for Salem to openly speak of her plans in front of a teenaged boy," Ozpin replied.
Qrow seemed shocked and uncertain how to respond, his red eyes darting from one of them to the other in turn.
"I know how ridiculous it sounds, Qrow. It goes against everything I thought I knew about magic, the gods, and my curse." Ozpin turned back to look out the window again.
"What do you mean it goes against your curse?" Qrow finally managed after several seconds of silence.
Ozpin closed his eyes. He'd said too much in his effort to convince his friend to trust him. He should have remembered that he already had Qrow's trust, but the stress of the events surrounding Oscar's arrival and two nights with little sleep had thrown off his internal equilibrium and causing him to say more than he'd intended to.
"Oz?"
"I –" he sighed. "I didn't mean to say that."
"But you did, so what aren't you saying?"
There was no help for it. Qrow was also persistent when a puzzle was placed in front of him, drunk or not. It was that stubbornness and refusal to quit which made him such a good Huntsman. He heaved another heavy sigh, but didn't turn around. He didn't want to look Qrow in the face when he spoke, didn't want to see his initial reaction. "There's… a chance… that Oscar may be my next incarnation."
Silence.
Unlike earlier when he wanted to allow his silence to speak for him, this was an almost painful silence, born out of shock and disbelief.
"What?" Qrow's voice was flat, but harsh at the same time.
"He may be my next incarnation," Ozpin replied, still not looking at his friend, feeling the weight of Glynda's attention on him as well.
Quick footsteps reached his ears, but he didn't have time to react before hands were on his shoulders and pulling him around, away from the window. His eyes flew open, and he found himself looking into Qrow's red eyes, his shoulders tensing in preparation to pull away from the nearly bruising grip Qrow had on him. Glynda was tense, her hand drifting towards her side where her crop hung from her belt.
"Oz… what are you saying?" Qrow demanded, his grip easing as he felt Ozpin's tension, but not releasing him.
Ozpin sighed. "If Oscar is to be believed, in the future when Salem attacks Beacon, I'm supposed to die," he said softly, knowing he was hurting his friend, just as he had hurt Glynda earlier with his calm acceptance. "That was how Oscar got pulled into everything to begin with – I died, and bonded with him as my next incarnation."
"How long?" Qrow asked, his voice hoarse. His hands tightened on Ozpin's shoulders again, not as painfully as before, but enough to cause discomfort.
"How long do I have?" Ozpin asked, and Qrow's head bobbed in a jerky, very like his namesake. "I cannot be sure. Two years, possibly more, possibly less. As I mentioned, I haven't questioned Oscar at length about what he knows because of the very public location he is currently in at the hospital – and forcing him to relive anything he may know about my impending death could cause a setback to his recovery. Reincarnation… it's an arduous process and the physical, mental, and emotional fallout is enormous under the best of circumstances. What he has described – little as it is – does not sound like anything happened under the best of circumstances."
Qrow growled and released him abruptly. "Oz… the kid's recovery isn't what's important right now. We need to know details so we can work to change events – to stop it from happening!"
"I disagree," Ozpin replied, his voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough to bring Qrow's attention right back to him. "Qrow, I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Glynda earlier today. I've died more times than I care to remember. I don't fear death. I don't actively seek it out, but I don't fear it either."
Qrow let out a strangled noise of protest, but Ozpin held up a hand and he fell silent.
"Far more of my lives have ended in violence – either in battle with her and her creations, or at the hands of someone I thought I could trust – than they have with me passing in my sleep at an old age, surrounded by my loved ones," Ozpin said. "I've long since come to accept that as merely one aspect of my curse and a possible outcome in any incarnation so long as this shadow war between she and I continues. Perhaps one day our war will come to a final conclusion and whoever my current incarnation of the time is will have the opportunity to live a life without having to look over his shoulder, wary of a possible ambush or attack – but that isn't the life I'm in now."
"Oz…"
"Until that happens, however, all I can do is live day to day, working to thwart her and keep the Relics out of her hands. As such, I refuse to willfully endanger the health of a child in any way," he said firmly. "Children should not be dragged into my war. I will be asking those questions of Oscar as soon as I'm certain that he is stable enough that he can discuss it."
"I –" For once, Qrow seemed to be at a loss for words as his eyes darted all around the room. Glynda's unhappiness was reflected in her tension and the expressionless mask on her face – she usually had no qualms about showing her displeasure or disagreement, but whatever she was thinking, she was keeping it tightly contained.
After a silence that went on far past the point of being uncomfortable, Qrow sighed and reached for his flask again, taking a longer swig than usual. "Fine. What do you need me here for?"
"As I mentioned, I'll be questioning Oscar soon – hopefully on Saturday as the rest of my week will be tied up with classes and Council matters," Ozpin replied, "and he'll still be recovering. Once he's been released, he'll be coming here and the three of us will have a long discussion with him. I want you to hear everything he has to say so that you're fully informed. When I have another assignment for you, part of your job will be to look for any signs that may prove or disprove Oscar's information or that the attacks he spoke of are imminent."
"I can do that," Qrow agreed. "Should I try to reach out to Raven? I know you and she aren't on the best terms at the moment, but she has eyes in places even I don't."
Ozpin returned to his seat and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands as he thought about the offer. Raven's help would be a huge benefit – if she could be persuaded to help her brother. After what had happened to Summer, after finally realizing the full scope of what the inner circle faced, he hadn't been surprised when she'd chosen to abandon her duties, taking the power he'd given her and running. Raven had always been the more jaded and suspicious of the Branwen twins. But, she still held some loyalty for her brother, even if she didn't agree with Qrow's decision to remain part of his group.
"Let's wait to see what Oscar has to say, first," he finally said. "If we could pull Raven back into the circle, it would be welcome, but right now she's acting first to benefit herself and her tribe. If she feels threatened or used in any way, she could become a real threat if she decides to oppose us openly."
"She wouldn't –" Qrow began, but his protest died as Ozpin raised his head and looked at him. There was really no way to know what Raven would do at any given moment. She was a stupendous fighter, but she had a temper and an unhealthy desire to prove her strength, no matter the cost. "Okay then – if you're not going to need me until Saturday, I think I'll head back to Patch to see the girls and Tai. I promised Ruby another combat lesson when I got back anyway."
"That's fine," Ozpin said quietly. "If I need you before Saturday, I'll message you."
"Sure thing." Qrow turned and started to head for the elevator, but he paused. "Oz. Who else knows about this?"
"Only the other Headmasters, Glynda, and now you. Rather, they know about Oscar's arrival and that he may have information about upcoming attacks on the Academies, but only you and Glynda and I know that he may be may next incarnation." He looked between his two most trusted allies. "I would prefer it to stay that way, at least for the time being. If I feel it's necessary for the others to learn about it, I will tell them."
Glynda nodded wordlessly again and after a moment, so did Qrow.
"Thank you, both of you," he said quietly. "Glynda, did you need something from me?"
Back to the business of running his school, after all. Qrow left, and Glynda approached him, a business-like expression back on her face as she held out her tablet to him.
Schnee Manor… Atlas…
Breathe in… hold it… exhale slowly.
Control is everything. I am in control.
The frigid air of Atlas kissed her cheeks as she stood in the courtyard at the back of the manor that she and Winter used for sparring whenever her older sister could get leave from her work with the military. Winter had contacted her the day before and said that she would be away for at least a week, possibly more, but that she would want to test her on her progress when she returned.
Weiss was determined not to let her sister down. She was going to be as good as her sister – in order to do that, she had to train to her limits. If she was going to be applying to Atlas Academy in another year, she needed to make sure that her skills were at their peak so she could submit the best possible application when the time came.
Myrtenaster gleamed in the cool light from the lights positioned around the courtyard. She'd spent nearly an hour already today honing the blade's edge and cleaning the chambers for the Dust vials she used to make sure that the cylinder wouldn't jam when she changed Dust types. Winter – as well as all of her instructors at Pelorus Academy – insisted that a Huntress should know her weapon and be responsible for its cleaning and maintenance.
But now the blade was clean and sharp, and she had to train before her father summoned her. He already disapproved of her desire to become a Huntress, and only grudgingly allowed her time to train and practice outside of her responsibilities as heiress to the Company. She raised the blade, running her gaze up and down it's perfectly balanced length before taking her starting position.
Head up, shoulders back, right foot forward, she recited to herself. She angled the blade into a guard position and visualized an imaginary target that she could spar with. Concentrate on the target, steady breath, and…
She moved.
Thrust, parry, step back. Step forward, slash right, guard.
Even as she made one move, she was preparing for the next, adjusting weight and stance so that the motions flowed, one into another. Myrtenaster flashed around her, arcs of silver light that would be death to any creature of Grimm that entered its path. The fire-Dust-forged steel blade was the strongest money could buy, a gift from Winter when she had declared her intention to become a Huntress and obtained permission from her parents to enroll in combat school, much to her father's displeasure.
It was also a reminder of her recent failure to live up to her fullest potential where her combat abilities were concerned. She was just lucky that Winter knew how much combat school and eventual enrollment at Atlas Academy meant to her and had not told Father about her recent lapse and over-reliance on her Semblance and Dust. He would have pulled her out of combat school in an instant if he thought that she wasn't bringing honor to the family name. But it had been Winter who had pointed out that she needed to be able to fight with or without Dust.
Her cheeks burned with shame at the memory, and she hastily shifted her weight to make sure that she came out of her spinning aerial back handspring correctly, blade already up in preparation for her next move – the same one that had nearly caused her downfall.
Weiss dodged Winter's rush and spun the Dust cylinder on her blade, trying to bring her fire Dust vial around for the next attack. Now that she had the mechanics working so smoothly, her ability to infuse Dust into her glyphs was improving. She was at the top of her sparring class as well as her academics and with two more years to go before she could apply to Atlas, she was certain that by the time she graduated she would be one of the best students Pelorus Academy had ever produced.
The chambers clicked around, and she risked taking her eyes off Winter long enough to check on where her fire Dust was located in the rotation. That proved to be her mistake.
An angled slash came at her head as Winter spun, using her body's momentum to give more power to her attack. Weiss yelped and brought Myrtenaster up into a hasty guard, but it was too late. Winter's large main sword clashed against her blade with enough force behind it to knock it out of Weiss' hands and send it clattering to the stone of the courtyard, while her smaller blade thrust forward at Weiss' throat, stopping just shy of where Weiss would have needed to allow her Aura to flare to protect herself.
Winter held her at sword point for several seconds before lowering her swords. Her off-hand blade was merged back into her main sword, which she sheathed at her hip. All the while, her blue eyes were coldly assessing Weiss, who hung her head.
"What was that?"
Weiss winced at each sharp word, hearing the criticism in her sister's tone. "I – I was trying to bring up my fire Dust and…" she trailed off, not having any further explanation.
"And you took your eyes off your opponent. That is the sort of foolish action that will get you killed!" Winter snapped. "When you're fighting a Grimm, or a bandit, they won't wait politely for you to be ready before they strike. You must be aware of your surroundings at all times. Never let your guard drop."
"Yes, Winter," Weiss said, fighting not to flush at the well-deserved reprimand.
"Not only that, but it's clear that in concentrating on your Dust, you have neglected in practicing your basic sword skills as well." The words were clipped and laden with disapproval. "Under no circumstances should I have been able to disarm you as easily as I just did, Dust or no Dust."
"With my Dust-enhanced glyphs, I can do so much more than just attacking with my sword!" Weiss protested.
"You're beginning to over-rely on your Semblance and Dust to win a fight."
"I've won every single sparring match at school for two months since I started using Dust in my weapon," Weiss argued.
"Against students," Winter said derisively. "Even more, they're students who haven't had your degree of training at that. Hardly a grand victory." Her gaze flicked to where Weiss' sword lay on the stone. "Pick it up."
Weiss hung her head and crouched gracefully, scooping Myrtenaster up and holding it tightly in her hand, point down.
"Now hand me your Dust vials," Winter said coldly, holding her hand out.
"What? Why?"
"Because your sword work is sloppy and abysmal. Until I say otherwise, here and at Pelorus, you are not to use your glyphs or Dust while sparring." She didn't lower her hand. "The Dust. Now."
Weiss ejected the Dust vials from her sword and handed them to Winter.
As embarrassing as it had been to spend the next three weeks not using her Semblance or Dust – and losing several matches as a result – her sword work had improved immensely, and she quickly found herself back on top of the rankings. Once Winter was satisfied that her sword work was back to where it should be, she'd permitted Weiss to begin using her glyphs again, but without Dust to enhance them.
She was hoping that when Winter returned and tested her again, she would decide that Weiss was ready to resume training with Dust. She could see now what her sister had meant about her swordplay being shoddy and she'd made improvements accordingly.
Spin, block, leap.
She summoned a glyph while she was in the air and landed on it, pausing only for a moment before flipping off and making a twirling slash with Myrtenaster as if she was attacking a target from above before she landed lightly on her feet and angling the blade into a low, backhanded sweeping motion designed to deflect a strike before ending in a guard position. She rested there only for a moment before throwing herself into a back handspring.
Her feet touched the ground again and she summoned another glyph, using it to boost her speed as she executed a series of rapid slashes and stabs at the invisible enemy she was fighting. She made sure that the transitions between her movements were precise and clean.
Perfection was everything – she had to be the best if she was going to convince Father to allow her to continue her studies at Atlas. Winter spoke often about the curriculum and training she'd received there, and it was evident that being a Special Operative in the Atlas military suited her.
High block, slash, guard, thrust.
She was capable of fighting, which meant that she had a duty to those who were not able to fight with the same skill that she could. Atlas prided itself on training its Hunters and Huntresses to defend the other Kingdoms, and that was what Weiss wanted to do. General Ironwood was a friend and ally of her family and Winter spoke highly of his leadership.
Weiss wanted to be a Huntress, but she wasn't sure that the military path would suit her as much as it did Winter. Father's authoritative methods made her uncomfortable, and his criticisms of some of her choices – like wearing her hair long instead of short and confined like Mother and Winter – grated on her. She also didn't like the fact that he viewed Winter's choice to join the military as a betrayal of family unity. There were other Academies in the other Kingdoms, after all. She didn't necessarily have to apply to Atlas Academy just because she was a Schnee and a citizen of Atlas.
Father would disapprove, of course. He disapproved of the other Kingdoms in general, even as he continued to sell Dust to them to turn a profit for the Company. But Weiss had only ever been in Atlas – there was so much more of Remnant to see and experience. Winter got to travel with the military sometimes. Would it be so bad to enlist, just for that experience alone?
Right slash, reverse, parry, lunge and thrust.
She could explore other options – after all, her parents hadn't said that attending Atlas Academy was a condition of being allowed to attend Pelorus Academy. If she happened to decide one of the other Academies would be a better fit for her… well, her parents certainly couldn't oppose her decision to make sure she attended the school best suited to her, could they?
Feet together, salute, and rest…
She took a slow, deep breath to calm her racing heart after the exertion of the exercise before sheathing Myrtenaster at her hip. The wind seemed colder now with her cheeks burning from the exercise, but she turned sharply on her heel and strode back towards the manor's rear door.
She would leave the manor one day. Just one more year.
Crow Bar… City of Vale… Sunday Afternoon…
"Give me a double whisky on the rocks," Qrow drawled as he entered the bar off the main stretch in Vale." He tossed a Lien card at the bar tender as he took a stool at the bar. "Start a tab with that and let me know when I've gone through the whole thing."
A few seconds later he had a drink in front of him. He seized it and threw back a long swallow, needing to take the edge off of his raw emotions.
The idea of Oz dying – it hurt.
He and Raven had entered Beacon years ago with every intention of scamming the system. Learning how Huntsmen and Huntresses fought, learning the same things they knew, all for the purposes of turning that knowledge against them during a raid. When they'd found out that they would be partnered with two strangers to form a team, he and Raven hadn't been sure what they would do.
They'd tried to stay together as partners but being flung off of Beacon Cliff into the middle of the forest had resulted in Raven and Taiyang being paired together, while Qrow had found himself paired up with Summer Rose, a girl with a spirit and personality that was completely reflective of her namesake. Together, they'd formed Team STRQ and they'd been one of Beacon's best in their time.
Right from the beginning, Oz had been there, watching them. He'd watched all the students of course, mentored them, encouraged them… but there had been times when it seemed as if the Headmaster was watching them more closely than the others in their year. He'd urged them to take on some of the more challenging training missions, always appearing confident that they would succeed where other teams may not have and – at times – he'd looked the other way when they broke the rules.
Raven had always been suspicious of Oz's actions, certain that he knew why they were there and just waiting for him to confront them on their past and their plans. Summer and Tai had laughed her paranoia off, and with their influence, some of his twin's misgivings had eased – but not all of it.
Qrow still remembered the day that he'd found out the truth. It had been a week after graduation. Oz had called Summer and asked her to round up her team and bring them to his office at Beacon Tower. When they'd arrived, he'd presented them with their official licenses, as well as an offer.
"I don't know if the four of you have talked about staying together as a team or not, now that you've graduated," Ozpin said from behind his desk, although he wasn't seated. Instead he was standing with his back to the window, which caused the sun to cast his face into shadow, making it hard to read his expression.
Qrow couldn't help but wonder if the Headmaster's positioning was deliberate or not. Raven had always had the sense that the Headmaster was hiding something. Sometimes, when they'd debriefed with him after a training mission, he would seem like he was about to say something, and then think better of it. Tai and Summer had told her that she was imagining things. Their teammates knew about their upbringing as bandits, but amazingly, neither one had ever held it against the twins once they'd found out.
"You can't help how you were raised," Summer said. "But you made the right choice to come to Beacon – to want to help people and do something better for Remnant. I know my life would be a lot emptier without the two of you in it."
"Summer's right," Tai agreed. "You may have been forced to make some bad choices when you were younger, but that allowed you to survive to make it this far. Now you're on your own and you can decide what you want to do with your lives from this point on."
Summer glanced at her team. "We had talked about it, but we hadn't made any firm plans yet. I think we all just wanted to take a few days and celebrate the fact that we made it, together."
A not-so-subtle way on her part of indicating that Tai and Raven had grown extremely close over the last four years. Both she and Qrow were doing everything in their power to push the two of them the final step into the relationship they were clearly moving towards. Qrow wanted what was best for his sister, and Tai had a way of making Raven happy in a way that she hadn't been when they were younger.
"Understandable," Ozpin replied. "You've all worked hard for this, and as your Headmaster, I couldn't be prouder of everything that you've accomplished. The four of you will do great things, whether you choose to stay together or not moving forward."
"Did you have something else in mind, Professor?" Summer asked. "When you called me, you said something about having an offer for us."
Ozpin nodded, his face still hidden in shadow. "I do. I want you to understand that you are under no obligation to accept, just because I was your Headmaster, and as licensed Huntsmen and Huntresses, you have the right to choose who you work for moving forward."
Work directly for Ozpin? This was getting interesting. As the Headmaster of Beacon, Ozpin was already the de facto head of the Vale Huntsmen and Huntresses. All missions posted to the mission boards were approved by him, even if he wasn't the one who actually put the missions up. If they worked based out of Vale, they would be working for him in that regard, but Qrow had the feeling that Ozpin meant working for him in a vastly different way. Qrow glanced at his team and saw his own interest reflected in Summer and Tai's expressions. Raven was harder to read, but she was his twin, and he knew her as well as he knew himself. She was intrigued as well but trying to hide it.
"Can you tell us anything more, Professor? Before we decide, I mean?" Summer asked, her usually cheerful face sobering in the face of Ozpin's mysterious words.
"I can't tell you everything until I have an answer from you," Ozpin replied. "It is incredibly important that most of this be kept from the general public until the time is right." He turned and looked out the window behind him. Qrow noticed the pale hands with their long fingers clasped tightly behind their owner's back, as if he was bracing for something. Rejection, perhaps? That was interesting in and of itself. Ozpin was always so confident when he spoke to them, with a streak of mischievous humor that tended to make itself known at unexpected moments. But Qrow couldn't remember a time when their surprisingly young Headmaster had seemed old. Old and weary, but also wary.
Their former Headmaster let out a heavy sigh. "I won't lie to you. It will be dangerous at times – more dangerous than simply taking the missions available to Huntsmen and Huntresses at large. It won't be easy work – the sorts of missions that I will have for you will push you to your limits, as individuals and as a team."
He turned back to face them again, this time taking a step forward and bringing his face into the light for the first time since the meeting had begun. "If you decide to work for me directly, there are things that I have to tell you that will be hard to believe and accept. Some of it will undoubtedly shake the foundations of everything you've always accepted as truth. This isn't information that I share lightly with just anyone, but the four of you exceeded my expectations as students, and to be honest – I could use allies of your skill and caliber. But I won't force it on you – it's your choice, and that is something that I hold very dear."
And what a story Oz had told them. A story of a witch with power to command the Grimm, of gods and curses, Relics, and reincarnation. With each new revelation, it had pulled them deeper into a world they'd never dreamed of when they'd merely been students. Qrow, Summer, and Tai had stayed with Oz throughout, committing themselves to the betterment of Remnant the success of Oz's mission to protect the Relics.
Raven had eventually run – whether from the mission, or from Tai's love for her and the responsibility of raising a child, Qrow wasn't entirely sure. But then Summer had been lost, and Tai had pulled away from actively going on missions so he could raise Ruby and Yang, leaving Qrow to carry the burden of being Oz's agent and the last remaining member of STRQ to be involved.
Over the last fifteen years or so, Qrow had grown close to Oz. He felt like he was as much Oz's confidant as Oz was for him at times. The mentorship that Oz had begun when Qrow was a student had deepened into a true friendship.
And now… the news that everything they'd been working toward together was soon to be in jeopardy. That Oz would die in two years, if the boy was to be believed. Ozpin seemed to believe it, even without having all the information, and Qrow didn't like that one iota. Meeting Ozpin had been the best luck of his life – it had given him the best friends he'd ever had in Summer and Tai, nieces he adored in Ruby and Yang, a reason to keep going even when his Semblance turned against him, and a mission to help people – to do good with his life, rather than taking advantage of people and hurting others for his own gain.
The very idea that in so short a time, it could all come crashing down was definitely enough to make him want to drink until he was numb. He didn't want to lose Oz's friendship. Losing Summer had been hard enough. Losing Oz – even knowing that he would reincarnate and return – would be worse, because it wouldn't be the same.
He had no doubt that Glynda felt the same way. The two of them didn't see eye to eye on many things, but they were both united in their loyalty to Oz and his mission.
He drained the rest of his glass. "Another!" he called, putting his glass down a little roughly, hoping it wouldn't crack due to his Semblance. He intended to get numb so that he didn't have to think about the repercussions of everything he'd learned that afternoon. Then, maybe after that, he would go back to Patch and see his family.
Headmaster's Office… Haven Academy… City of Mistral… Monday morning…
Leonardo Lionheart stood at the window of his office, looking out at the busy campus. Students were coming and going, laughing, and meeting friends – exactly how it should be. Mistral was the largest Kingdom, but within the boundaries of the capital city, it was also one of the safest.
The idea that the city or even the school might come under attack was alarming.
Ozpin was worried too, although he was trying to hide it. That much had been apparent from the conference call between the members of the inner circle they'd held on Saturday. The ancient wizard had appeared calm on the surface, but whatever news the strange boy, Oscar, had brought didn't bode well for the Academies if he was to be believed.
He had always viewed Cerelia's flight from Haven in the early stages of her training as a Maiden as a personal failure. Ozpin had entrusted her to him as far as her training as a Huntress went, and yet he hadn't been able to provide her with the guidance she needed to assume her duties as a guardian of the Relic. The fact that she hadn't been seen for nearly ten years either meant that she had found a way to hide herself and her powers, or she had perished, and the powers had passed to someone unknown.
He hoped, for Cerelia's sake, that it wasn't the latter. He remembered her fondly – bright, passionate about helping others, and highly intelligent. She hadn't been the leader of Team BRIC, but she had been enthusiastic and a great support for her teammates. She'd been overwhelmed the day she had come to him, her powers flaring. He'd contacted Ozpin immediately, per the ancient wizard's instructions to all of the Headmasters if a new Maiden ever same to them. Ozpin had immediately come to Mistral and spent two weeks sequestered with Cerelia as a special safe house he kept in Mistral, teaching her to control her new powers and explaining everything that she would be facing as a Maiden.
She'd been scared, of course. The weight of everything that Ozpin had told her seemed to dampen some of her youthful energy. Over the next year, she'd become quieter, more withdrawn, to the point that even her teammates had noticed. She had graduated with the rest of her teammates, not wanting to let them down, but when they scattered to take on jobs as Huntresses, but she remained behind.
It hadn't been enough – the plan had been to send her to Vale for further training with Ozpin, but before that could come to fruition, she had run one night, slipping away from the school once everything had calmed down and the staff was asleep. She hadn't been seen since.
He sighed. Spring – Cerelia – was a weakness in their defenses, and one that he felt personally responsible for, although Ozpin had never laid any blame on him for her flight. He'd simply looked sad when Leonardo had told him about her disappearance.
"I'm so sorry, Ozpin," Leonardo said, his tail swishing with agitation underneath the heavy cloak he wore to conceal it from a casual glance. "She seemed to be in agreement about coming to see you at Beacon – I thought she was looking forward to it. I don't know what happened to change her mind since I explained the arrangements to her two days ago."
"I don't blame you, Leo," Ozpin said softly. "The power of a Maiden – it can be overwhelming. In Cerelia's case, she was randomly selected when Iris passed away. The magic is just that – power – it doesn't make a distinction between those who are mentally or emotionally able to handle the burden that the power places on them and those who are not."
Ozpin sighed and suddenly looked every single one of the years he had walked Remnant. "I never intended for that to be the case when I created the Maidens," he continued. "But, as with so many of my actions, things turned out very differently from what I intended."
"What should we do? Should I send someone after her? I have her address and contact information from her student files – she may have run home to be around the people and things she finds familiar."
"I'll send Qrow to try to find her."
"Qrow?" Leonardo was skeptical. "Will he be able to convince her to come back?"
"I believe he'll have a better chance than you or I would," Ozpin admitted. "She won't respond well to me if I make the first attempt, given her apparent fear. You were her headmaster, but she also knows that you're associated with my circle. She hasn't met Qrow yet, so she has no preconceived notions about him or his association with me."
"What will we do if he can't convince her?"
"We'll have to pray to the Brothers that she comes around and returns to us in time. Whatever she decides to do, it will be her choice."
Unfortunately, the child had not come around nor returned. Qrow had scoured Remnant for years trying to find the lost Spring Maiden, even utilizing the help of the Fall Maiden from time to time, in the hope that their magic would pull them towards each other, to no avail.
It seemed less and less likely with each passing year that Cerelia had survived, yet a discreet watch on her family didn't show them lost in the throes of grief that he would expect if they had received a notification that she had died. But if they were secretly in contact with her, then none of Ozpin's agents could figure out how.
Beep…
He turned away from the window as his terminal beeped and pressed a button. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor, but you have a visitor who is requesting a few minutes of your time." The voice was that of his secretary, Coral Felgers, a very efficient, outgoing young woman who had decided that being a Huntress wasn't the right path for her a few months after graduating, but who still wanted to help the Huntsmen and Huntresses in some way. As he had been looking for a new assistant when his previous one had retired, he'd offered her the position and she'd gladly accepted. "She's not a student and doesn't have an appointment, but your next appointment isn't for an hour. May I send her in?"
"Yes, send her in, Coral."
He moved to stand in front of his desk as the double door swung open and a young woman walked in. She was the right age to be a student he thought – a prospective candidate, perhaps? Sometimes prospective students who hadn't attended a combat school sought out interviews with him in the hopes of finding out what they could do to earn a spot at Haven for the next class, after all.
"Good afternoon," he said. "I'm Headmaster Lionheart."
"Cinder Fall," she replied, her voice low and husky. She was quite beautiful, with amber colored eyes, black shoulder-length hair which she swept to the side. "It is… a very great pleasure to meet you, Professor."
"Please, take a seat," he indicated the small seating area in one corner of his office. "Would you like some tea?"
"I would, thank you," she replied, moving to the indicated seat. The short skirt of her red dress swished around her thighs as she moved, her heels clicking with a slight tinkling sound, almost like glass, as she moved. She took a seat on the couch, crossing one long leg over the other.
Lionheart took the green and silver tea set that Ozpin had given him as a gift when his appointment as Headmaster had been confirmed and quickly brewed a batch. "Do you take milk or sugar?"
"No, but thank you," she responded. "You don't need to go to any special trouble on my account, Professor."
"No trouble at all," he assured her. The water boiled rapidly, and he poured it from the kettle into the pot and added the cage with the loose leaves to allow it to steep before bringing the tea set over to the table on a tray. "We'll just let that steep for a few minutes," he said. "Now then, how may I help you?"
"I have a proposal for you, Professor. I represent someone who would like to see changes made in Remnant, for the betterment of everyone – humans and Faunus alike. You are a member of the Council, a Headmaster, and a Faunus, well-respected for your position and viewpoints regarding equality for Faunus. It is my hope that we might be able to work together to affect some of the changes."
Lionheart frowned a little. This wasn't what he had expected from someone as young as she was. "You're looking for support or backing for a political candidate at the next election?"
A small, mysterious smile crossed her face. "For the moment, my patron prefers to stay unnoticed, as there are some concerns that the established Council will be too interested in holding on to the power they have."
"I don't believe I could back someone who's name I don't even know."
"You will," she assured him. "My patron doesn't want names floated just yet – trading on a name and reputation is how so many unworthy people play the game of politics. But a name isn't everything. It is more important to see who might be willing to lend support based on ideas, rather than reputation. Surely even you have to acknowledge that things still aren't equal for the Faunus, even here in Mistral."
"Like what?"
"Better working conditions for Faunus. No more signs banning Faunus from being served in stores or cafés. Genuine equality born from respect – not fear."
"People have said that before, Miss Fall – many times," he said. "I would need specifics of your patron's plans, as well as a name, before I would even be willing to consider such a proposal." Lionheart poured the tea he had offered before handing the cup to her. "Can you provide me anything more than vague promises?"
His visitor took a sip of the steaming tea. "Well, for one, having new leadership to replace those who have been in power for much longer than they should. It would mean new ideas, a new viewpoint. Sometimes that's all you need. As a Faunus Headmaster, you are in a unique position to make lasting change with the right support."
"And often new leadership is not enough," he countered. "Opinions can change, Miss Fall – but that is true of everyone. Someone enters politics with a starry-eyed view of changing things, yet those good intentions and grand ideas get worn down over time when faced with repeated opposition." He took a sip of his own tea, savoring the sweet, fruity notes of the beverage.
"Well said," she complimented. "I believe I can say with all sincerity that my patron does not have a starry-eyed view of how things will be. But I understand your reluctance to commit to anything right now. Mostly, I was just sent to find out if you would be willing to hear more – once some of those ideas are developed, of course. My patron would very much like to have the support of the Headmaster and the Huntsmen and Huntresses. I'm sure you're aware that not everyone is pleased with the idea of the Academies and there are some out there who seek to tear them down. Given enough time – a long enough era of peace – they may succeed in gaining traction. Those like the White Fang, for instance."
Lionheart shook his head. "I don't disagree with you, Miss Fall. I would very much like to see conditions improve for my kind, but not all of the Faunus agree with or are happy with my role as a Headmaster, as I am the only Faunus to serve in that position since the Academies were founded. While I may have made it here through hard work, others see this as a token effort at appeasing them."
"Of course." Another sip of her tea, before she placed the cup back on the table in front of her. "All my patron asks is that you consider the opportunity. I'll be back with more details soon after you've had some time to think about if it's better to maintain the status quo or consider supporting someone with a different vision for Remnant."
"I'm a member of the Council," he reminded her. "Part of my job is to hear proposals that could benefit Mistral. I'll certainly listen, but I won't make any promises."
Another slow, smile. "Of course. I understand and I'm certain my patron will as well once I tell her the news. Thank you for your time, and the tea, Professor. I can see myself out." She uncrossed her legs and stood, sauntering towards the door with a graceful, confident stride. He stood out of politeness, but she moved faster than he had expected, and she was at the door before he had fully even gained his feet.
She paused near the door and glanced back, that mysterious smile flickering over her lips again. "I look forward to building a strong working relationship with you, Professor Lionheart." For a brief moment, her amber eyes seemed to glow with their own inner light, but when he looked again he decided it had just been a trick of the late afternoon sunlight coming in through the window behind his desk. "I will see you soon." With that, she was gone, the door to his office swinging shut behind her.
That had been an interesting conversation, to be sure. Lionheart sighed and took his tea over to his desk, before returning to the seating area and gathering up her cup and replacing it on the tray.
That was… strange. He paused in his actions and reached out, picking up a chess piece that was sitting on the table behind her cup. He didn't remember seeing it there before, or for that matter ever seeing it before at all. He turned the small thing over in his hand. It was a pawn and seemed to be made of black glass. Perhaps Miss Fall had dropped it, but why would she have such a thing in the first place?
Shaking his head, he carried it over to his desk and placed it in a drawer. He'd simply ask her about it the next time she came by with the information she'd promised. With that taken care of, he returned to tidying up the tea. Another student would be coming by soon, and he didn't want to keep him waiting.
Patch… Monday Afternoon…
Late afternoon sunlight glinted off the edges of raven-black feathers as the crow they belonged to winged his way along the tree-lined road towards his destination just outside the small town, casting little flashes of iridescent color bursts. If the crow's flight wasn't entirely steady, and he avoided crashing into several trees along the way, well…
A few hundred yards from his destination, the crow landed heavily on the grass beneath one of the largest trees. He shook his feathers once, twice, and then the feathers seemed to melt away and Qrow Branwen straightened to his full height, Harbinger sheathed at his back. He swayed a little as his equilibrium adjusted to the difference in his form before he headed back down the path.
As he emerged from the end of the path into a cleared area, a red and black blur slammed into his middle with all the force that a teenage girl with a Semblance of speed could manage. "Uncle Qrow!"
Qrow wrapped his arms around her but couldn't manage to stay on his feet as they tumbled to the ground together. Between his recent level of alcohol consumption and Ruby's sudden tackling hug, the world spun for a moment but when his vision cleared, his younger niece was sprawled on top of him, her head snuggled up against his shoulder. "Hey kiddo."
"You're here, you're back!" she crowed enthusiastically. "We weren't expecting you!"
"Well, you know me," he said with a smirk. "I like to defy expectations."
Ruby rolled off of him and into the grass before sitting up. "I thought you were going to be away for a long time yet! They said you weren't going to be teaching at Signal this year because you were going to be out on missions."
"Even I need a break to see my family from time to time, kid," Qrow said, sitting up and brushing the grass and dirt off his shirt and pants. "Where's the firecracker?"
"Still at school with her friends," Ruby said. "They wanted to get some more sparring practice in, no weapons allowed. Dad had a meeting with the Headmistress after classes were done for the day, and I wanted to visit Mom."
"Right," Qrow said solemnly. Mention of his lost team leader never failed to get to him and coming on top of the news that Oz had shared yesterday about his possible impending death – it didn't put him in a good headspace, but he resisted the urge to pull out his flask around Ruby. It would be one thing to drink with Tai later tonight when the girls were asleep, but not in front of them.
"So where have you been lately? You haven't been in Vale, according to Dad. Did you go to Vaccuo? Or Mistral? You didn't go to Atlas did you?" Ruby asked eagerly. "Did you fight any awesome Grimm?"
Qrow chuckled. Mention of Summer might have brought his mood down, but his niece could always cheer him up. "Well, I actually just got back from Vaccuo. Escort mission down to Shade Academy. Just your typical Grimm through most of the trip – Ursas, Beowulfs. Did run into a Death Stalker on the way there and a King Taijitu on the way home. Plus there were some of the regional Grimm in Vaccuo that you'll learn more about once you get into the upper years at Beacon or wherever you two are planning to apply."
"So cool!" Ruby said.
"Uncle Qrow!"
They both looked up to see Ruby's older sister Yang racing up the road towards them, Tai following at a more sedate pace in her wake. Qrow braced himself as – like her sister – Yang cannonballed into him at full force.
"Hey Firecracker," Qrow said, returning her embrace. "I heard that you're hard at work training and getting ready to apply to one of the Academies in another year, huh?"
Yang pulled back and slammed her fists together. Her collapsible gauntlet shotguns that she had named Ember Celica reflected the sunlight. "You bet I am. Ruby's been working hard too, but you know how good she's gotten with her scythe."
"Takes after the best," Qrow said proudly. "I just got back from a long trip, but after I get some rest, I want to see what the two of you can do."
"You're on!" the sisters crowed together.
Qrow looked up at Tai as his former teammate joined them. "Hey Tai. These two running you ragged yet?"
"They're doing their best," Tai said ruefully. "Between Ruby's speed Semblance and Yang's personality, keeping track of both of them is a full-time job in and of itself. I'll almost be glad when Yang goes to whichever Academy she chooses, because then I'll only have to corral Ruby."
"Dad!" both girls chorused.
"You make it sound like we're terrible!" Yang said.
"You said it, not me," Tai teased. "Come on," he reached down and pulled Qrow to his feet. "Your uncle needs a chance to shower and get some clean clothes on before dinner, and I know both of you have homework."
The girls groaned as the adults chuckled, and for a moment, Qrow decided to put the bad news from the day before out of his mind. Being around his nieces was a good distraction, and he couldn't make any plans until he'd heard everything the kid had to say.
But later, when the girls were settled, he would probably need the numbness again, just to keep nightmares about what might be coming from intruding on him.
Author's Note: Hey all! New chapter for you, and I have to give a huge thank you and shout out to my good friend TheFullmetalBitch, who has consented to take over beta reading this for me for the time being, now that I've fully inducted her into the RWBY-fandom. We binge-watched all eight seasons, all seven completed soundtracks, and all the World of Remnant videos in the span of a couple of weeks between my work schedule, her schedule, and the fact that I'm in the States and she's down under in Australia, so we're dealing with a 14-hour difference in time zones, LOL.
I also want to make sure to plug her work here, she has a great series featuring Fullmetal Alchemist crossed with (in order) Criminal Minds / NCIS / Voltron Legendary Defender on this site, as well as a wonderful Fullmetal Alchemist AU story where every character has a Spirit Animal, and a lot of other great fics. If you're into any of those fandoms, I highly advise checking her out.
And final note: We still haven't learned the name of any of the combat schools in Atlas - but there seems to be a theme around each Kingdom's schools. Vale has Beacon Academy and the combat schools Signal and Pharos (which is Greek for lighthouse) so it seems the theme there is communication / signaling. Mistral has Haven Academy and Sanctum as well as an unnamed one for combat schools - Haven and Sanctum both speak of refuge and safety for their themes. Vaccuo has Shade Academy and the combat school Oscuro (named in the novels, as I understand it) which have to do with protection from the sun. Atlas is a bit different - it could be a reference to Greek mythology and the Titan who had to hold up the sky, or it could refer to a book of maps. After discussing it with my beta, she suggested naming Weiss' combat school Pelorus, which is the name for a sighting device on a ship for taking the relative bearings of a distant object, so the theme for Atlas then becomes navigation., or pathfinding, which also suits Weiss' character arc.
I can't thank her enough for her help on this - it definitely wouldn't be as good without her input.