General Notes: Welcome back to a rare moment of interim transition in our story.
Director: College Fool
Writer: Coeur al'Aran
Cover Art: Kegi Springfield
Chapter 13
The two of them set up camp at a small trickle of water that might have later fed into a river but at this point was more of a spring. As ever, Jaune acted it as if he knew the area by heart, though Ren had long since suspected it was just an earned confidence the man moved with rather than any prior knowledge. That confidence was a little dented by exhaustion, though, and Ren let out his own sigh of relief when Jaune declared the spot perfect for their needs.
Neither of them rushed to actually build the camp and for once the hunter didn't suggest it. Instead they both draped themselves on the cool grass and stared at the sun slowly rising into the morning sky. A part of him wanted to savour it. Another part simply wished it was setting in the west, because he wanted to sleep so very badly. Preferably, it would be a slumber uninterrupted by spiders the size of dogs that wanted to eat them.
"How are we doing this?" Ren asked after a minute or two of soft relief. They'd slept in a cave and fought in the mountains. Damp grass had never felt so wonderful.
"We'll take a few hours rest and a half-day walk. I want to sleep as much as you, but we'll only run into trouble if we sleep all day."
"Sounds fair." Funny how six or seven hours might have sounded horrifying before. Now, it was considered a short jaunt. The promise of a full night's sleep at the end was the reward. "Is it safe to fall asleep here?"
"As safe as anywhere" Jaune asked, grumbling as he sat up. "I'll set some traps up, but it'll have to do. I don't think either of us can really stand guard. We should eat before we sleep, though."
The cue was obvious, and Ren groaned but acknowledged it, forcing himself up and towards his pack. At least the little babbling creak not four feet away would make collecting water an easy task. Food, though...
He pawed through his pack, too tired to be frantic, until his fingers grasped the last of what he was looking for. The last of the little emergency ration bars, a mere one each. He held them for Jaune to see.
"Last I have," he informed, even as he offered one.
Jaune frowned, as if thinking, but eventually nodded and reached forward to accept. "I'd rather not, but we don't have any more game to eat instead. I'll try to find something by this evening," he promised, before accepting Ren's meagre offer to share.
The prospect of a single energy bar being the only thing until this evening was uninspiring, even inadequate considering what they'd just been through. Tired as he was now, Ren knew even he would be famished soon. But Jaune wasn't complaining, so he shouldn't, and so he consumed his tasteless ration without any real relish. It tasted like... not much, really, and too late Ren wondered if it might have been helped by a dust flake.
Jaune, his bar finished, rose and walked to the nearby creek. The hunter then stooped down to dip his hands into the water and splash some into his face. It looked so relieving that Ren did the same, leaving the food to boil as he washed the grime, soot, and ash from his skin.
"Nothing like ice-cold water straight from the mountains," Jaune said, chuckling. "I'd take a dip in a cool river to a hot shower any day."
"I'll stick to my comforts, thank you."
"You're missing out, city-boy."
"Hm, whatever you say, Jaune." Ren splashed a little more against his face as the hunter laughed, and then removed his shirt and jacket before splashing water on his chest and arms as well. It was a meagre cleansing, but the first since his unsought soak falling underneath the mountain. Even with Jaune beside him, still drinking upstream, he didn't find himself as bothered by the nakedness as he had been before. After what they'd been through, a little skin hardly seemed a big issue. "Maybe if this was deeper we could actually have a bath."
"The best place is a lake upstream, Lake Tear. You might have seen it. This area has a lot of rivers and small streams running from it. We'll probably have a chance to bathe later." Even so, Ren did so now, despite cringing slightly at how cool it was.
"It sounds like you know the area well," he remarked.
"Well enough. I've been out here way before."
"You called it the Old Frontier. How long ago was that?"
"Long enough," Jaune snapped. "Any other questions?"
"I didn't mean anything," Ren said, holding a hand out to placate the hunter. "I just don't know anything about the frontier, after all. There's no need to get angry."
"I'm not-" the hunter bit off with a growl and looked away. He continued after a second, and in a slightly less irritated voice. "This place used to be safe enough. Mouk stayed down in the valleys, and Lake Tear is far enough away uphill that he didn't bother coming this far. Vale used to send huntsmen every so often to purge the Grimm and push the frontier back. Lake Tear used to be the Edge of the north-west, but without the dust - a little pocket of people between the barrier mountain's and Mouk's domain."
The hunter sighed and washed some grime from his golden hair. "Sooner or later it all comes back, though. The Grimm always reclaim what's theirs."
"And the people…?"
"Dead or gone. Usual fate of towns on the frontier. They had enough time to evacuate... eventually. Maybe one day they'll return and call it the same thing. Doesn't have the dust of Edge, but villages can be rebuilt."
Ren understood. It was a curious notion and one he hadn't considered before, but the Kingdoms really did seem to place an unusual amount of emphasis on locations and not people. That was likely something to do with the main cities being immobile fortresses, wherein the loss of a single city would be a devastating blow to Remnant as a whole. On the other hand, the people of Edge could have relocated relatively easily if the Grimm moved to attack them.
It was almost like an ocean coming and going, the receding flow of the waves a metaphor for the people here, who didn't fight against inevitability but rather came to live in tandem with nature. Well, if one could consider Grimm a part of nature. Few did.
Whatever the case, it was time for a well-earned rest for them. Ren draped his clothing out on a tree-limb to dry and moved to help Jaune set up a rudimentary camp. As he did, he spared a thought for everyone else back in Beacon and wondered how they were coping.
/-/
Nora's mind was groggy as she woke, muddled and fuzzy in a way that didn't feel natural. Her mouth was dry and felt like a sock had been pushed into it, but she realised it was her tongue. It felt swollen and too big for her own mouth. The sensation confused her. She rolled over, searching for answers, and the one she knew would have them... until she remembered not to.
But Ren wasn't in the room. He wasn't here anymore.
Tears prickled at her eyes. She didn't know how many times she'd woken up since he'd left her, but this was the first time she'd turned over and not been surprised by his absence. Before, there had always been shock and confusion, mixed with a tiny amount of hope.
Now, there was just nothing. Ren wasn't here.
"Nora?" Someone else came into her vision, hesitating for a second before kneeling down to place a hand on her shoulder. The hand was soft and warm, but unmistakeably not his. "Nora, it's me, Pyrrha. Are you okay?"
She tried to speak. Her voice failed.
"That was a stupid question," Pyrrha said, sighing. "Of course you're not okay. None of us are. I'm sorry. Do you… do you want something to drink? I can get you some water, or maybe something stronger."
"W-Wa…" She couldn't finish it.
Luckily, she didn't have to. "Water," Pyrrha nodded, quickly standing. She rushed over to an adjoining room and disappeared into it. A tap began to run.
Nora took the moment to look about the room she was in. She didn't recognise it, which was odd because she could tell from how she smelled that she'd been here for a while. All she could remember was crying, screaming, and shouting, most of it hers.
A flash of pain shot through her as she remembered the case. Even so, it was more a dull ache. She hated that. Ren was gone. Abandoned How dare her heart only ache! She needed him. Didn't it understand? Where was the raw grief and the agony? Where were the tears and the sobs? They were still there, beneath the surface. She just felt too tired to muster them.
"Here you go," Pyrrha returned, placing one arm beneath her head to lift her up and pushing a glass into her hands with the other. She didn't let go, no doubt knowing Nora's strength might fail at any moment.
The water was cool and clear. It eased her pained throat and somehow made her tongue feel less like someone else's. She guzzled until she couldn't take anymore, and some water spilled down her chin. Pyrrha pulled the glass away with a swift apology.
"Everyone…"
Pyrrha leaned forward. "Yes?"
"What is… everyone doing…?"
"Dealing," Pyrrha said. "There's not much else we can do. "Team RWBY are in the dumps but they're trying to help around as they can. Their guide was badly hurt. Ruby's Uncle came by to check up on everyone and she's with him. Cardin and his lot… I don't know. I know they're blaming themselves for this. I think they're trying to stay out of our way out of shame. Je-"
"Not that," Nora growled. "Why… why are they not trying to find Ren?"
Pyrrha paused to consider the question carefully, or more likely she was trying to find the right answer. That was enough for Nora to know the truth.
"Nothing," she said, too sullen to be called a snap. "You're doing nothing."
"Nora, it's not-"
"No? Ren is out there. My Renny. Your teammate! Why aren't you doing anything? If Ruby's huntsman uncle is here, then why isn't he going out there to save Ren!?"
"Because it's not that simple."
"It is! It – hck – it is that simple! Ren is out there, alone, and no one wants to do anything about it! No one but me even cares! You don't even care if he dies, after all it's not like it was your partner who-!"
Nora's face whipped to the side. It took her a second to realise Pyrrha had slapped her. When she looked back, it was to see Pyrrha's hand still raised, and a conflicted look of fear and hurt and maybe even anger on her face.
"Don't say that," Pyrrha whispered, in a tone she'd never heard from the girl before. "I… Ren is my teammate. He's my friend too. I've never had real friends before, and I've never wanted to lose one. He might not have meant to me what he meant to you, but I still care. We all do. That's why Team RWBY came out here, Nora. Don't say we don't care, Nora. Some of them nearly died trying to save him." Not Pyrrha herself, but others. Team RWBY. Even Team CRDL.
Tears gathered in Nora's eyes. Despite her stinging rebuke a moment ago, Pyrrha quickly moved to embrace her.
"They should have brought me with them!" Nora cried into Pyrrha's chest. "They should have taken us! Why didn't we go!?"
"Because we were compromised," Pyrrha answered, stroking her hair. "Because we cared too much. Because the Headmaster said the three of us wouldn't be level-headed in the Grimmlands." It was a reminder of things they'd been told before, but that hardly mattered now.
"We still should have gone," Nora protested, weakly, with a sniffle. "I could have joined Team RWBY. I could have helped them fight the Grimm! I wouldn't have given up the moment things got bad!"
Pyrrha stroked her head and looked at her sadly. "Maybe that was what he was afraid of."
Nora froze in her arms. "What?"
"Maybe it's the fact you wouldn't have given up that he was afraid of. That you wouldn't have given up until Ren was saved or you and everyone else was dead. Maybe he was afraid of losing entire teams, and not just a student."
"That's not- that's not what I meant-"
Pyrrha believed her. "I know, Nora," she whispered. "But it's not what you mean that matters. It's what you feel. You heard what the Headmaster said. The Grimm sense negativity. If we'd gone into the Grimmlands filled with fear- not for ourselves, but for Ren-" It was as the old Huntsman had said.
In the Grimmlands, fear was death. That fear didn't have to be for yourself.
"I would have found him," Nora insisted, weak and pleading as it was. "I would have saved him..."
"Would you?" Pyrrha asked, not un-gently. "Or would we have lost you too?"
"Who cares?" Nora moaned, leaning into Pyrrha's chest. "At least he wouldn't be alone, then. At least he wouldn't be afraid." A hiccup, and then a fading murmur.
"Ren hated being alone..."
Pyrrha said nothing to that- couldn't think of anything to so- and so she didn't she simply held Nora, who let herself be held. For a time, there was a simple mournful silence as Nora's breathing steadied.
And then a knock came from the door, as someone softly- hesitantly? - wrapped one's knuckles on the other side.
"Pyrrha?" came a familiar voice from the other side, soft enough to not be heard by the sleeping. "It's me. Is she... is Nora up yet?"
A sudden curling of fingers on flesh- hard enough to hurt- roved to Pyrrha that Nora was indeed still awake.
"Her fault," Nora hissed, eyes that had softened for Pyrrha hardening once more. "It's her fault. Ren wouldn't have left were it not for her, that-"
Pyrrha's sigh covered Nora's whisper, even as she braced herself for what was to come, as the door handle twisted, and the door slowly opened...
/-/
Yang held the small white canister before her eyes and read the label on the back. It was covered in information she didn't understand, which raised the question of why she'd thought looking in the first place would be a good idea. Undaunted, she brought it down and fixed the shopkeeper with a stern expression.
"These are the best you have?"
"It's the strongest medicine by far," Mr Mann said. "Those aren't easy to come by."
"It's Middivale," Yang pointed out. "They're available in every pharmacy."
"Does this look like a pharmacy?" Mr Mann asked. "Blame bandits or Grimm or whatever else you want, but shipments don't come here that often. When SDC flies stuff in, it's priorities, not luxuries."
"Is that why the price is so high? This is ten times the cost it is in Vale."
"And I'll promise you right now I'm making less of a margin those places in the city. If I could sell this cheaper, I could sell more of it. It's not like there's a lack of people with aches and pains around here."
She could hear the frustration in his voice at that, though whether that was over the loss to the people here or the loss of sales it was hard to say. Still, it didn't sound like he was lying. Blake always said the White Fang focused on SDC transports to send a message. Is this the kind of message they were sending?
To think that something as simple as this would be so hard to come by out here. Back home, this was something to help with just a headache. Out here, where even miners with broken bones couldn't afford it...
We came here with multiple Bullheads. Why didn't we bring as many supplies as we could with us? The people could really use it…
The answer was simple, really. They hadn't thought to. And in the time Beacon had rushed to try to save Ren, no one had bothered to ask the locals how they could help.
"What do you do with the money you earn, anyway?" Yang asked. "This is the only shop in town."
"I buy more stock. I pay for the protection of it myself. Sometimes I have enough left over to buy something for the wife or kids." Mr Mann scowled and grumbled under his breath, "Sometimes what I order even arrives."
It was clear it often didn't, and that his family had been left without their money time and time again. It would all come on the same transports that brought food, medicine, and other material Edge needed to survive.
"Are you going to buy that, then? Even if you are a friend of Ms. Schnee, I don't have time to entertain one of your kind."
One of her kind. Someone from the city, no doubt, or a huntress. Or maybe just a spoiled brat. Yang would have bristled at that at any other time, and maybe taken it out on him or his shop like she had Junior. Stuff like that had been a lot easier when she hadn't been forced to stick around and see the consequences for her actions. Even Mr Mann, foreman of Edge, didn't have enough to actually be called well-off. She and Ruby probably grew up in a nicer house than he could afford.
"Yeah, I'll get this. I don't suppose you can do a deal on two."
"You suppose right. I don't even have two bottles."
Yang nodded and delved into her pocket, rifling through the lien she'd carefully saved up for the last few weeks. One and a half thousand, quite a bit by her standards, and far more than she'd ever expected to spend on a dinky bottle of general drugs. The lien felt heavy in her hand as she gave it over, while the white plastic bottle felt disappointingly light.
"Good doing business with you," Mr Mann said, not really meaning it. "Won't be another shipment for a month, I'm afraid. We're low on emergency meds, too, and the monsoon season always leaves behind sickness."
"Does Edge have enough?" she asked.
"When has it ever? People will get by, or they won't. That's life for you."
"Can't you ask the SDC for more resources?"
"Already have, girl. They're sending an extra convoy but that won't mean shit if the White Fang take it. Medicine, food, and supplies for their war effort. And a whole load of starving people on the frontier." He snorted. "Some of them will even have the balls to say it serves the faunus who work here right, and that life would be better for them in the Fang."
Yang was glad Blake wasn't here to hear this. It would have ended poorly, though who for she had no idea. "I see. Right, I'll leave you to it, then. Hopefully the convoys will get through."
"Yeah… hopefully…"
There was one other person in the shop as she made her way out, a young boy looking longingly at some food he probably couldn't afford. Yang wished she could have helped him, but she was out of funds now as well, as poor as he, though obviously much more well-fed. She ducked her head as she slipped outside and shielded her eyes against the early morning sun.
The monsoons had broken for the moment, but weather further east still grounded them here. But in the brief day that was here people going to and fro, removing water-proof tarps and protections from buildings and checking their condition. The mine was already alive with activity, and the sound of grinding rock from deep inside. No rest for the miners, it seemed. The mine probably hadn't even been safely checked yet before the miners got back to work.
It was obvious why hunters would be such a boon to Edge. Genuine hunters – not huntresses like her and Team RWBY. In a town so dedicated to the mines, no one else could be spared to gather food. With SDC handling the defence, but unable to secure much more than the all-important dust, a few good hunters were probably more valuable than any single Huntress might be.
Not that Edge had many good hunters anymore. They'd lost two hunters in a matter of days, after all. That was a big deal; worth far more than the temporary protection afforded by three or four teams from Beacon.
We're just extra mouths to feed right now. They were probably seen as burdens.
Yang's boots sloshed their way through the slowly drying mud as she made her way deeper into Edge, past several huts where people were laying out cloth to dry outside. Dogs barked at her as she walked by, tethered to posts or running free in some cases. Many snapped and chased one another, but it was play and none fought. They were too well-trained for it. A few kids played in the mud, too, though they were all exceptionally young. She didn't see anyone over the age of twelve doing so.
What was the age where young boys and girls began to work in the mines? The Kingdom had laws against that kind of thing, but she had to wonder if the laws were applied out here. She had to wonder if the people of Edge wanted them to. It was all well and good to say you were doing it for their sake, but if they couldn't earn lien for food they couldn't get themselves...
The desperate might try their luck outside the walls, but there was a world-full of reasons why old hunters and Huntresses were so rare. A grim, Grimm-full world of reasons.
Eventually she reached her destination, a more run-down and ramshackle part of Edge, if that were even possible. The buildings here were squat and tightly pressed together, little more than two-room abodes with a large central room where people lived, socialised, and slept – and then a storage room or pantry. Most of these people were outside, making the most of the space they could to wash clothing, cook over open fires or chat between themselves. It was woman for the most part, though a few elderly men found their places among them.
Down one sloppy mud path Yang saw the person she was looking for; a girl in a brown dress with a white front, struggling with two needles to weave some threads of cloth together. Another girl stood behind her and whispered encouragement and instruction.
Yang came to a stop ten or more metres away and watched the two for a moment. It was a surreal and peaceful scene, and one that might have brought a smile to her face at any other moment. The longer she looked, however, the more the details became clear. The one trying to knit was an amateur. She was struggling, especially because of how much her hands shook. Yang raised a fist to her mouth and coughed loudly.
The two froze and looked her way. Yang knew she stood out with bright yellow hair that reached down to the back of her legs and bare skin, fresh and clean bar the mud on her boots. She might as well have been an impossible diamond in the middle of this place. She was unmissable, but for once that didn't do much to make her feel good about herself.
The girl who had been knitting dropped her work in shock. She looked up, revealing a face equal parts red and white, pitted with scars and disfigured beyond recognition. Kalie whimpered and tried to reach for her fallen cloth, but her hands were shaking so much that she kept missing it until the other girl gestured for her to stop.
"I've got it, Kalie," the other girl said kindly. "Why don't you go inside? I think I hear Pa' calling for you. You know that old dog isn't as young as he used to be."
Kalie moved quietly, likely not believing it for an instant but moving with purpose nonetheless, moving behind the girl and into the house without acknowledging Yang. That left the girl behind to stoop down and pick up the needle and thread, placing it in a pocket on the front of her dress. She was a brown-haired girl with brown eyes and brown dog-like ears that fell flat down the side of her head. In her tan dress, she was the epitome of plain, but her face was anything but. It was uneven and misshaped, not by injury but just the random hand of fate or genetics. Her nose was a little too big and dominated it, while her cheeks were just on the chubby side and her skin was covered in freckles that almost came in patches, far too dense to count.
She wasn't afraid, though, and watched Yang with a look that wasn't friendly, but also wasn't quite as dismissive as many of the others had given her over the last few days.
"Can I help you, huntress?" the girl asked. "My name is Debbie," she added, remembering her manners.
"Yang," she returned, introducing herself. She glanced past the faunus toward the hovel. "I… I actually came to see Kalie."
"I don't think that would be a good idea," Debbie said. She didn't so much as move as remain between Yang and the door, and though the girl looked frail and weak Yang had the sinking suspicion she wasn't inclined to move if asked. Or threatened.
"Don't worry," Yang said, holding both hands up and open. "I'm not here to cause problems, I swear."
"I'm sorry, but I heard what happened at Phil's place."
Yang cringed but made no move to defend herself. There was no defence to be made, no matter how antsy she'd been over Ren at the time. She'd been looking for something to take her mind off of things, not...
"Kalie... doesn't want to see us, does she?"
Debbie didn't deny it. It wouldn't have been believable if she had, so Yang swallowed and tried a different question.
"Does she hate us?"
"Hate is a strong word." Debbie looked to the hut and then turned back. "Will you walk with me a little?"
Yang nodded, catching the real meaning. Kalie was probably watching from the window, so giving her some room was the best option. She let the faunus past and then followed after her, the two of them moving down and off the muddy street toward the walls of the settlement.
"Edge... isn't the easiest place for those who can't support themselves," Debbie said, speaking first as they walked away. "We can't afford to be. We have a hard enough time as it is without hosting free-loaders. The first rule I learned growing up out here is that if you don't work, you don't eat." Yang almost bristled at the suggestion that Kalie was somehow a freeloader, but that didn't seem to be what the faunus girl was trying to say. Not by how she frowned. "Kalie's... not in a good way right now, I'm afraid."
"Because of her scars?"
Debbie shook her head. "Because she's ashamed. Scars might scare a boy away, but they don't stop you being good at a job. She can't do hers anymore. Kalie was a hunter. Maybe not the best, but she was good enough to pull her weight and then some. She could even pull in as much game as Jaune, even if that was because she stayed closer to home. She knew her plants, her herbs and where to find them. She had a place. Problem is, that's all out there." She gestured to the wall.
"And now, Kalie can't go out there anymore. Won't. Just the thought of it..." she shook her head.
"If it were just that it wouldn't be a problem," she continued. "Plenty of people make themselves useful out here, in the mines or picking up a craft. Some even just marry and raise kids or look after stuff, or even... or even look after people after dark. But that's where the other problem comes in."
A sick twisting feeling soured Yang's stomach. This time it was the scars, and it wasn't hard to see why- though it was hard to unsee it. Kalie's worth to the settlement was in two different ways; what she could offer as a skill and what she could offer as herself. If she lost the first, and no one wanted the other...
She'd been pretty, once. Now she couldn't even rely on that, thanks to them.
"Is that why you're trying to help her learn to sew?" Yang asked. "Thinking that will be a career choice for her?" She felt a smile almost rise. "I'm glad she has a friend to look after her."
"Maybe. I don't know…" Debbie sighed. "Kalie and I were never close. I knew her through Jaune more than anything and even then..." she grimaced. "I don't like hunters. The thought of killing innocent things makes my skin crawl. Even now Kalie smells of blood. But still..." she looked up, a modest but hardly insignificant resolve in her eyes. "She's did us a good turn in the past, when we were down on our luck. And I know what it's like to be stared at the wrong way."
Yang didn't. Or rather, the way Yang knew was likely completely different from the faunus girl's.
"But isn't she living with you?" Yang asked. "You're trying to help her."
"Do I need to be a friend to do any of that?"
"No, I just… I assumed…"
"She needed someone to look after her," Debbie sighed. "She's got nothing and no one, and she just looked lost. I know a little bit of what it's like." The girl laughed bitterly. "They call me dogface-Debbie when they think I can't hear them. Sometimes they say it when they know I can. I know a little of what it's like. Ma' and Pa' were okay with it, and feeding another person… well, it's not easy, but I'm stronger than I look."
Yang's heart fell. "You work in the mines?"
"It's a job. No one can really see you down there. SDC still pays, no matter what you look like." Debbie shrugged and looked away. "Can we not talk about it? You can here for a reason, didn't you?"
Yang felt sick to her stomach and couldn't ignore the redirection. She reached into her pocket and pushed the plastic bottle into the girl's hand.
"I wanted to give her this. It's… it's not much, but it should help with the pain."
Debbie stared down at it. "Medicine?"
"Painkillers," Yang said. "The instructions are on the back."
The faunus' cheeks heated. "I… I can't see that well. We can't afford glasses for me with what we make."
Was it even possible to feel any worse than she already did? Yang snatched the packet back and scanned the instructions for the girl. "It's one in the morning and one in the afternoon, before the last meal of the day. There are sixty in here, so it should last for a month. Make sure she drinks water after taking them."
"Thank you," Debbie said, taking them back. "This… I'm sure Kalie would say it means a lot to her if she could. The pain's probably part of what's making her shake. It wasn't... she doesn't hate you, you know?" Debbie asked, as if to reassure. "She feels guilty for ruining your mission. She's too ashamed to face you."
Yes, it seemed, it was possible to feel worse. Yang's eyes closed, and she took a fortifying breath before opening her eyes.
"It's the least I can do," she said. "Maybe the only thing I can do right now. Can you tell her... can you tell her it's not her fault? We were supposed to protect her. I know an apology won't do anything for her now, but... we're sorry," she said, looking down. "We're all... Ruby was crying the whole way back. I know one girl's tears don't mean much, but..." She was cut off by a hand over her mouth. Dogface-Debbie smiled. It wasn't pretty by any means, but it was soft and warm.
"I'll tell her, Miss Yang. For what it's worth, thank you for this. It will make life easier for her for a while."
"I just wish I could do more." she said.
"I think you've done enough."
Yeah…
That was certainly one way of putting it, even if Debbie hadn't meant it like it sounded. Yang nodded and took a step back, leaving the dog-eared faunus among the mud and ramshackle buildings clutching a bottle of medicine worth more than she made in a week. Ember Celica, the bracelet-weapons she used whenever she fancied, were probably worth more than everything in her house put together.
Buying medicine for Kalie would help, but it might just be seen as another example of her flaunting her wealth. It didn't feel that way, considering she wasn't well-off by Vale's standards, but she was willing to bet her allowance growing up would be a hefty sum here. Funny how she never thought about it before coming out here. She could give all the lien in her pockets away, and someone would probably take it, but she wouldn't get gratitude for it. Not when it was literally pocket-change compared to what she had back home.
She remembered Uncle Qrow's brutal honesty on their recent mistakes. He'd said that dwelling on them helped no one, and just made them look egotistical. She'd messed up and hurt innocent people, but she wasn't helping them by feeling bad about it. She couldn't buy her way out of it either.
"If I want to start fixing stuff, then I need to do something," she growled.
Her eyes landed on some miners coughing as they made their way out of the still-soggy mineshaft, bent double under the weight of still-soaked timbers. They dropped it with a crash, the wet wood splintering under its own weakness. Near them, a SDC foreman in only slightly better clothing nodded and tallied it down, before pointing the miners at a pile of fresh, dry timbers nearby. With a weary acceptance, the miners stumbled over to the pile of mine supports and struggled to lift one up. Mine repairs, to shore up the mine after the storm?
Yang looked at the foreman, releasing a long breath as she did.
Hell, it was worth a shot.
/-/
Qrow pushed through the wooden door and into the interior of Edge's local public house, a large – for Edge – wooden building with a brick fireplace and chimney. Now that the storms were past it was mostly empty, but there was the man behind the bar cleaning a single mug, and four boys sat at it, trying to drown whatever they could afford on a school-boy's salary.
Some might think it was pathetic... but he was hardly one to criticise them for it. He'd been in their position more times than he cared to admit.
Cardin, the leader, noticed him as he approached. The boy looked up with a scowl, but probably didn't stand because he couldn't. "What do you want?" he slurred slightly, looking at Qrow with an impertinent glare. "Come to tell us how bad we fucked up?"
It was a challenge, but there was something else behind it too. A hint of desired expectation behind the provocation that Qrow recognized instantly.
The boy wanted to be insulted. He wanted to be told he was a failure, to confirm what he already felt.
Qrow was familiar with that, too. How many times had he tried to make Tai hate him instead of blaming himself? How many times had he picked a drunken fight in a bar just like his niece had, just to somehow 'lose' and wake up in the rubbish of an alley where he felt he belonged?
Qrow was familiar with it indeed. That didn't mean he'd rise to the bait. Qrow sighed and ran a hand through his greying hair. Kids.
"Came to tell you we're heading back to Beacon in a few days," he said. "Three, maybe four, before the weather between here and Vale is good enough for us to get back to Beacon. Just thought I should tell you lot."
The teenager nodded, his friends doing the same but for the one with the mohawk, who had passed out on the bar already. The four of them practically reeked of stale bread and booze. Personal hygiene looked to have largely been forgotten.
"I'll leave you four to your work. Just be ready to leave in a couple of days."
None of them answered. They didn't even hear him. He thought about saying something more, but the man behind the bar caught his eye and shook his head. The message was clear enough.
Qrow sighed and made his way outside, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. Of all the lessons he hated more than any other, failure had to be it. Beacon never really taught you it, nor did Signal. You could fail a test, but there was rarely any real danger. That's what the teachers were for- to stop things before they got too bad. True failure only ever happened away from such safe places, but every team thought that they'd be the ones who knew enough and trained enough to avoid it.
Not that we were any better, he thought, thinking back on Team STRQ. We're all young and invincible once. The whole world was ours for the taking, and we knew no one could beat us if we stuck together.
"Yeah, right," he snorted. Maybe no one could - maybe no one had- but that hadn't meant much in the end. At least his niece's run in with reality hadn't lost her family. Just a friend - a comrade.
"They might think this is the lowest point of their lives, but it's not," he reminded himself aloud. With any luck, this would temper them for times ahead. He hoped so, at least.
The huntsman found himself trailing across the outskirts of Edge towards the Bullhead Team CFVY had come in. Those four were split out across the village doing whatever they fancied, though he'd seen the faunus among them accompany some hunters out earlier, offering her protection to help them hunt food for the village. The big giant had been helping people carry timber to repair buildings damaged in the monsoons. Contrary to the younger students, the older team had found themselves, if not welcomed, at least accepted by the locals soon enough.
The Bullhead pilot nodded at him as he approached, though she went back to her repairs a second later. Stranded as she was on the wrong side of the monsoon front, there wasn't much else for her to do. A hatch by the cockpit opened and the woman's hands reached inside, tinkering with stuff he barely recognised, much less knew anything about.
"Problems?" he asked.
"Nothing besides the usual," the woman grunted, not even bothering to look at him. "Nevermore feather got inside, cut some wires and slowing the thing down. Trying to figure out if it's fixed or still broke, without taking the whole damn thing apart."
Qrow's eyes narrowed as his attention focused. "I hadn't heard they had an issue getting back," he said.
"Didn't," the woman grunted, reaching in for something. "Redundant flight systems worked, but I don't want to rely on that next time in case they don't. Drag's bad enough that we might not outfly the next nevermore. Only so many redundant systems you can rely on before the thing's just redundant scrap. Mechanics coming in on the next flight are sure to get it running right, but I'm just trying to see how bad it is."
"Can it fly?" Qrow asked, to the point.
"If it has to, but it's definitely not up for the no-go zones," she said. "I wouldn't want to risk racing a murder, that's for sure. It's- blast," she cursed, as some lights faded inside. She stepped away, clearly taking a break from her work. "Why? Need to go somewhere, Huntsman?" she asked, looking away from her work long enough to take a measured look at him.
Qrow shook his head. "Not right now. Just looking into what the options are."
"Well, there's walking or waiting, at least till the Monsoon clears further east. Next Bullheads won't arrive until then. You can tell your little minions that too, so that she stops asking."
"My minion?" Qrow asked.
"You know - her," the pilot indicated with some clear wariness, pointing in a direction from which footsteps were approaching.
"Uncle Qrow, Uncle Qrow!"
Qrow turned, and saw his niece, and his heart clenched a little as she approached, running with eyes wide and expectant smile that suggested she had a great idea. He was pretty sure he knew what but put on a smile anyway.
"Hey, kiddo. What's up?" he asked, even as the pilot subtly stepped away and behind him. Good choice- this was definitely something better left to a Huntsman.
"The monsoons have stopped!" Ruby declared, looking at Qrow with excitement in her eyes.
"Yeah, it has," he said, nodding towards the damp but drying surroundings. "What of it?"
Ruby's smile almost fell. Almost. She caught it at the last second. "Well you said the monsoons were what was keeping the Bullhead grounded. Now that the rain is gone they can move again."
"Only so far," Qrow caveated. "Weather's still bad elsewhere. Just give it a few days."
"Will we be able to go then?" Ruby asked, hope rising.
Damn it.
"Yeah," Qrow said, voice rough. "We'll be able to go back to Beacon."
"W-What?" Ruby stumbled, looked horrified. "W-We're going home?"
"Yeah. Home. And school. You've got classes to go back to, remember?" he reminded. "You'll be cutting it close as it is."
Ruby shook her head, eyes wide. "But-! But if the Bullheads can fly, we can go back and try and find Ren again! And Jaune! We need to find them before something happens!"
"Ruby…"
"We need to!"
"Ruby!" he barked, this time a little sterner. Damn it this was hard, and her eyes didn't make it any easier, but still. He didn't blame her for it, but now he knew why the pilot had retreated so quickly. She'd had to be the one to answer her last time. A Huntsman like him- heck, even an Uncle- should be able to do so now.
"Ruby, it's been almost a week now. You're not going back there. And neither am I."
Ruby looked like he'd betrayed her. Perhaps he'd betrayed the image she'd had of him. Or maybe she just didn't understand.
"But... but Uncle Qrow, why?"
"The golden seventy-two hours are called that for a reason, Ruby," he reminded. "That's all just about anyone survives for. Even if he survived the landing and holed up like he was supposed to, he'd be out of food and water for days by now. His beacon would be dead, and he'd be trapped behind the Grimmlands and the barrier mountains."
"B-But Cardin's guide was a hunter. He could find food…"
"Cardin's guide was also a regular guy thrown into the middle of a Grimm horde when you guys left him behind in the middle of the Grimmlands," Qrow reminded, more brusquely than he'd have preferred. "Do you think he somehow managed to beat back all those Grimm that drove you away? And then found your friend? And then got them both away from one of the most dangerous Grimm on the frontier?" Qrow shook his head. "I've seen a lot of crazy stuff in my time, Ruby, and heard even crazier, but that tale would top them all."
"But- but-" Ruby stammered, caught between her hope, her disbelief, and the shame of their failure being thrown back at her. That wasn't what Qrow meant to do to his niece.
"Your heart is in the right place, Ruby," he reassured, "but there's a reason it was so important to do your mission before the monsoon. It was because it would be too late to do so afterwards. There was only one shot at this, and it's gone."
"I…" The Huntress' hands clenched into tiny fists. She didn't meet his eyes. "But the Bullhead can fly. It could…"
"The bullhead's not going anywhere," Qrow said, as firmly he could. He owed the pilot that much, to spare her any further pestering. "It already took damage just getting you back alive. It's not going back into the Grimmlands to risk more people over a pair of lost souls. Besides, who do you think will guide you? Do you think Edge is going to volunteer any more hunters to go into the Grimmlands after that last try?"
"But you're here, Uncle Qrow," Ruby protested, voice tight as she looked down. Qrow knew that there was water in her eyes. "You could lead it this time. You're a real Huntsman." Not like them- students just pretending.
Qrow sighed, even as he knelt down and pulled Ruby closer.
"I am a real Huntsman," he admitted, hugging her. "But that doesn't mean I'm a miracle worker. I don't die for lost causes, and I'm not going to let you, or your sister, do so either. You're going back to Beacon, Ruby, and that's final." He tried to be stern but couldn't help his weakness. "I'm sorry."
"You are."
Ruby jolted at her own words, more surprised than he. "I mean- I'm sorry- I just-" she looked at him, face afraid at the insult she gave, but not able to deny it even as she looked away again. "I just thought it'd be worth a chance. I'm sorry," she said again, before pushing away and turning, hood up and arm covering her face.
Qrow watched her flee, before rising to his feet out of the muck he'd been kneeling in. He sighed. That... had gone about as well as he'd expected it to.
"I... I might be able to get the redundancies back up myself, if I try," the pilot spoke from behind, sounding like anyone might after having watched that scene.
"Don't push yourself," Qrow said, watching Ruby stumble into someone and turn a corner, clearly crying. "We don't need anyone getting any bright ideas."
"Can't hurt to have options though, right?" she asked, turning his earlier words back on him. "No one said we'd have to land. Wouldn't need a guide either if it's just a look."
Qrow sighed again, harder this time.
"I just made my niece cry over this, lady. Don't test me now. I'm serious."
"And so am I," the pilot said in a measured - measuring - way. "I'm just fixing this thing because I already was, and I've got nothing better to do anyway. If I get those redundancies back up enough to outrun any Nevermore..."
"It wouldn't matter. There's nothing to find," Qrow reminded.
"Then there's no risk swinging by on the scenic route," the pilot returned. "Gran' always said the only way to be sure you never find something is to never look at all."
"Your Granny have any words on dashed hopes and unrealistic expectations?" His girls - and their friends - didn't need their hopes raised only to be dashed again.
"Only that the only disappointing Huntsmen are the one who never try at all."
Qrow shot a sharp glare at the girl almost as old as him. "Sounds like she and I would get along famously then."
"If you say so, Huntsman," the pilot said, turning back to her work with a blatant cold shoulder. "I imagine you'd have a hard time, though."
"Why is that?"
"She died to the Grimm waiting for a Huntsman who never came."
/-/
"We'll camp here."
Ren was already exhausted when he dumped his supplies down, moving automatically to start the fire. It had all become routine by now. Even so, as he stacked wood and Jaune started to set his traps about the camp, he couldn't help but ask, "Do you think we should leave some kind of sign?"
"A sign?" Jaune didn't look back, but rather kept his attention on the task at hand. "For what, the Grimm? I think we've got enough problems with them as it is."
"No, for the others. For humans."
"I told you there's no humans out here."
"But there are in Edge," Ren pointed out. "Don't you think we should try and signal them in some way? Or at least leave signs of our passing behind, so people know where we've gone and how to follow."
"No one is coming for us, huntsman. Far as everyone is concerned, your friends included, we're dead. It would take a reckless fool to try something against that." He tightened some chord on a tree and sighed. "Not even the best of friends would hold out hope in a situation like this."
He didn't bother arguing. Maybe Jaune was right, but maybe he wasn't. In truth, he was probably correct going by the standards of the people he knew. Ren had to wonder if his friends would be any different. Loyalty only went so far, and if they truly thought him dead? Well, they'd know his last wish wouldn't be to have more follow and risk their lives.
"I guess we're on our own, then…"
"Like always, city boy. Like always."
Coeur's Note: Not sure why this happens every time, but I'll say it again. What is written here is fiction. It does not necessarily dictate our views on things. If you disagree with Qrow, then fine. Deal with that. But don't come raging at us for it. In his mind, he's in the right.
CF's Notes
Another chapter, another bit of progress. As you can tell, catching up on the beta-plot for a bit. I suppose that makes this a review/rest chapter?
Chapter was written by Coeur well in advance, the delay in reviewing/revising it was entirely on me, so if there were any issues please credit them to the person it belongs to.
Next chapter, moving more firmly into our next arc- the Lake Tear arc.
Cheers,
C.F.
Next Chapter: 17th March
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur