Infected Rose

by Fred Bobson

War brings many things. Death. Tragedy. Toil. Grief. But a second chance at life? John Diamond is given just that when he is thrown into a strange war on an even stranger world, 20 years younger. Will he crumble under the pressure of the ever-growing darkness? Or will John find his victory in the simplest of souls? ADOPTED from TheLongVersion2. Paralogue I is up.

6. Chapter VI: Training Montage

Uploaded 18/8/2020

Edited (minor details) 25/8/2020

Ike_/ Welcome back boys and girls, men and women. Excited?

Fred_/ I for one am certainly excited. We have another chapter out already!

Ike_/ An accomplishment we shall strive to repeat. Now, before we get on with things lets do some review responses ;)

Chase15T - Thank you for your support and encouragement! We hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you enjoyed the last :)

Gizmo Gear - Indeed, the response has been great! And I can confirm that STRONK coffee is the best coffee, although Ryan can go a little overboard (he puts a pinch of salt, four creams and three sugar, and two shots of espresso in his. Like...what?!). We're happy to know you're enjoying the story so much, and we hope you continue to!

Colossus Bridger - I can neither confirm nor deny the accuracy of this statement. But thanks for reading!

Ivannaccco - we're glad you enjoyed it! And as for Herobrine, I guess we'll just have to wait and see ;)

Fred_/ Ah, I do love reading reviews... Anyways, we have an exciting announcement to make, but let's save that for after the chapter!

Chapter VI: Training Montage

'thought'

Flashback

"speech"

*sound/action*

---

January 10th, 76 AGW

Patch County Penitentiary...

The sun had long since set on the island of Patch, bathing the small town and forest in darkness and moonlight. The rain had cleared up, leaving the sky open and the ground slick with water. However, the night was not peaceful as nights often were here. Police sirens paired with bright red and blue flashing lights alerted the town to the capture of a high-risk criminal. A police escort sped down the empty roads, two cruisers in the front and back and an armoured prisoner escort truck in the center. Overhead, a whirring sound announced the arrival of a police helicopter. The escort swung around a corner and through an open gate that closed behind them. The cruisers split off and the truck came to a stop in front of a plain set of steel doors, set in the middle of a large concrete building. Armed guards stood at the ready, shifting nervously. Everyone on the force in Patch had been briefed about this man. Through unknown means, he had killed an officer and released monsters that appeared to be human into the town. Countless officers and civilians had been injured fighting the hordes of walking corpses off, and by some miracle, no one had died by the time the monsters had evaporated into a white mist similar to a Grimm. That had been on Halloween night, and earlier today an anonymous Huntsman had incapacitated the suspect. And tonight he was being transported from the station to the prison. The back doors of the truck burst open and officers in body armour and helmets piled out, pulling a man in tattered and bloodied white robes along with them. His hands and legs were cuffed, and after a violent outburst during his arrest, his mouth had been covered with a mask. His hood was down, revealing a gruesomely burnt and disfigured face. Several guards cringed at the sight but kept their composure, tightening their grips on their weapons. As the prisoner passed by them, they avoided eye contact. His eerily glowing red eyes unnerved them; it was like meeting the baleful gaze of a creature of Grimm. A large black bird sat perched atop the barbed wire fence, watching Entity 303 intently. It sat unnaturally still, piercing red gaze burning holes in the back of Entity's head.

Raven had to make sure that this man never made it out of prison. Not alive, at least. He had attacked her family's home, and that was unforgivable. The white-cloaked man was led through the steel doors and disappeared from sight, followed by a procession of armed guards and policemen. Raven took flight, swooping down to the building and squeezing into an air intake. She hopped down into the vents and followed the sound of the transporters. Raven became bitter, remembering how Tai had refused to return to the tribe with her. 'It's too dangerous for our daughter' he had said, 'I won't betray my ideals and become a raider'. This was dangerous. Staying here in Patch with that silver-eyed girl, right where Salem could see them. Why couldn't he see that the only safe place on Remnant now was with the tribe? The fool. Perhaps one day she would convince Yang to join her there, once she was older. She had already grown so big...

"So this is him? I thought he'd be taller," A man taunted. Raven heard Entity grumble back a response, inaudible from behind his mask.

"Yeah. He's already been booked, so it's straight to our dankest cell for him," Another man responded, portraying a clear disdain for the prisoner through his tone. Raven scoffed inwardly. If these men had any sense, they would have shot him on sight. Another voice echoed down the air ducts, barely clear enough to make out. But Raven recognized it, and anger rose in her chest.

'Ozpin...' Raven thought with distaste. She abandoned the procession of guards, making a mental note to find the man's cell later, and followed the sound of Ozpin's voice. With every twist and turn she took, the words became louder, more clear. Raven quickly arrived at a room that looked like it was normally used for interrogations, vaguely visible through a barred air vent.

"Is that why you called me here, Qrow? A local menace?" Ozpin asked curiously, pausing to take a sip of coffee from his infamous mug. Qrow shook his head, and subtly unplugged the security camera in the corner of the room. Ozpin raised a brow at him.

"He used magic," Qrow said. Raven was glad they couldn't see the look of surprise that was likely evident even on the face of a bird. Ozpin, to his credit, kept his composure fairly well despite his shock. He took a slow deliberate sip from his mug and set it down on the steel table carefully. He leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands, mulling over the implications of what Qrow said. Qrow sat down across from him and took a sip from his flask. Finally, Ozpin broke the silence.

"...What happened?" Ozpin asked calmly. Qrow took a moment to respond.

"He attacked during Halloween, targeted children and officers. One dead, fourteen injured. That's what the official report says. Unofficially, he attacked with an army of undead from the local cemetery and targeted one family in particular. I'll give you two guesses who it was. I managed to convince the police that this was the result of a new species of Grimm that secrete hallucinogenic gasses," Qrow reported. Ozpin's knuckles turned white as his grip tightened.

'The dark brother's magic!? How is that possible...' Ozpin thought in a mild panic.

"There's more," Qrow said solemnly. Ozpin and Raven's attention fully returned to Qrow, anxiously awaiting his next words. Qrow took a deep breath and spoke.

"One of Salem's agents is here in Patch, and he's working with this man. Or he was, before we had a confrontation today. From what I've overheard, they're here to investigate the possibility of a maiden," Qrow spoke slowly. Ozpin gave the man a pointed look.

"But you know better, don't you? Would this have anything to do with the child you told me about last year?" Ozpin inquired. Qrow inwardly cringed, as always Ozpin had seen right through him. He should've known better than to withhold information from perhaps the wisest man on Remnant.

"...Yes. To both questions. The boy that Tai adopted, John, is from another world. One where magic is still common knowledge and practice. Salem's agent and the man in the white cloak want him dead now that they know there isn't a maiden here, and have made two attempts now," Qrow said hesitantly.

"Another world? And you believe this?" Ozpin asked. Qrow nodded.

"Not at first I didn't, but that kid is more than he seems. I witnessed him using magic firsthand today, and his story sure would explain a lot of the strange crap that happens around here," Qrow said, vouching for John. Ozpin seemed to accept his judgement with only a small amount of skepticism but looked at Qrow with an upset expression, confused and a little hurt that Qrow had said nothing of this until now.

"Why did you keep this from me? I could have helped, Qrow. Now of all times-" Ozpin began, stopping abruptly when Qrow interrupted him.

"-We have a traitor among us," Qrow said loudly in a serious tone. He almost sounded sober. The room fell into complete silence, and Raven almost scoffed. Of course they had a traitor, Salem had her dirty hands in every faction on Remnant. It was naive to think otherwise. Ozpin stared at Qrow incredulously, and Qrow sighed.

"I wanted to investigate this more before I brought it up with you, but this latest turn of events has forced my hand," Qrow explained. Ozpin looked down, his expression hidden by a shadow cast over his face by his hair. The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Ozpin looked back up with a tired expression.

"Tell me everything," Ozpin pleaded. Qrow, unaware of their small feathered eavesdropper, did exactly that.

---

Entity 303's Cell...

Entity 303 sat silently on the floor with his legs crossed. He now wore a plain grey jumpsuit with the number thirteen printed in bold black on the front and back. The room was a small windowless box, dank and cold reinforce concrete walls keeping him contained. An uncomfortable stainless steel bed was bolted to the wall for him to sleep on, and an equally uncomfortable steel toilet was bolted to the floor beside it. The guards hadn't been kidding around about putting him in their worst cell. And yet, this was only the eighth-worst cell Entity had been in. Two armed guards stood at attention outside the red steel door, not that Entity could see or hear them anymore. An hour he had waited, just to make sure no one else was coming to see him. An hour had passed and now Entity was confident that no one could see or hear him without the slider on the door open. He held his hands out and a piece of browned parchment and an inked feather pen appeared in front of him. With a simple gesture, the pen began to scribe Entity's thoughts down onto the old paper in Galactic Runes.

'I have confirmed that the boy is John Diamond. However, he has eluded death once more and escaped. Salem's agent has proven that his loyalties lay with his family, and he turned me over to the local authorities. I lay in wait, my master, what are your orders?'

The pen and parchment burst into green flames, disappearing without leaving behind so much as a pile of ash or a wisp of smoke. To his surprise, merely a few seconds later a response came in a burst of green sparks.

'I am disappointed, 303. As my retainer, I expect only the very best from you, however, I recognize that your opponent is no ordinary child. I shall grant you a second chance, do not squander it lest you wish for your curse to be worsened. Bide your time and await my order, when the time comes I will release your restrictions. I will expect no less than a burning island and John Diamond's head on a silver platter'

Entity smiled evilly. As always, his Master was cruel yet sympathetic and didn't hesitate to give him his orders. And, of course, a brilliant strategist and cunning swordsman. Truly, the small island of Patch was doomed.

---

East End Of Patch...

Lucien dashed down the street, sticking to the shadows and remaining as silent as possible. Slipping away from the officers on the scene (many of which were running background checks on him) wasn't easy without his semblance, but he was nothing if not persistent. However, Lucien's current objective made him more than a little bit nervous. Giving his statement to the police more than ten times had given him a lot of time to think. But his thoughts were scattered, hard to focus on. He was on his way to his wife and daughter's home. Lucien scoffed inwardly, upset that he could keep a cool head in a shootout with another sniper a mile away, and yet the thought of seeing his wife and daughter made him into a complete fool.

Turning a corner, Lucien dashed across an empty street and scaled the side of a house with mint panelling. Once on the roof Lucien leaned over the side and jimmied a window with his knife, sliding it open and slipping inside quietly. He was in a guest room, with dark stained-wood nightstands and a simple bed with too many sheets and a gaudy mint floral pattern. The carpets - the same awful mint-green as everything else - were pristinely vacuumed, and Lucien begrudgingly took off his Wet boots. He may be an assassin, but he did have standards when it came to his own home. Or, his wife's home that is. Lucien crept forward in bare feet, past an empty closet and towards a white door with a glass doorknob. Upon further inspection, Lucien could faintly make out a subtle floral pattern painted on the door in a different shade of white. He shook his head.

'Dust, I hope Frost doesn't inherit her mother's sense of style' Lucien thought with a shudder.

Lucien opened the door slowly and noticed a flash of tempered steel before he felt a blade lightly pressed against his jugular. A kitchen knife was being held to his neck by pale slender fingers, and Lucien's gaze trailed down the flawless skin of a woman's arm, across her bare shoulder and up to her face. Soft features and small pink lips set in a thin line were framed by raven black hair that flowed like silk, which matched the simple black nightgown she wore. Lucien's gaze finally met her eyes, a golden orange that reminded him of a sunset. He smiled.

"I see you're still as alert as ever, Jewel," Lucien greeted fondly. Her breath hitched and her grip on the knife faltered, dropping the knife harmlessly to the floor and covering her mouth in shock. Her eyes filled with tears, emotion flooding her mind and overwhelming her.

"L-luce? Is that you?" Jewel asked with a shaky voice, not daring to believe that her husband was really in front of her.

"It's me, Flower. I'm back," No sooner had Lucien finished speaking, Jewel Gemini had crashed into him in a crushing embrace. She clung to him tightly and Lucien returned the embrace, suddenly feeling a flood of emotions run through him. He had kept tabs on his wife and daughter whenever he was able, but he hadn't been able to hold them in his arms in thirteen years. The two began to shake and shudder with hardly contained tears at almost the same time. If Salem saw him now, she would kill him on the spot for being so sentimental. His old superior from the Specialists would probably do the same. But Lucien didn't care, for all he cared the world could be burning outside. His desert flower was here in his arms.

"Gods I missed you. I thought you were dead..." Jewel breathed out, burying her face in Lucien's shoulder. Lucien held her by the waist with one hand and stroked her raven locks with his other. Her hair was soft and hardly knotted, despite her messy bed-head look.

"I never stopped thinking about you and Frost," Lucien began, getting his emotions under control. The two embraced each other in silence for almost twenty more minutes before they finally separated.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come back to you sooner, Jewel. And I wish I could stay, but-" Lucien began, getting interrupted when Jewel slapped him lightly across the face. Lucien blinked in surprise.

"That's for staying away for so long!" Jewel said emotionally. Jewel looked Lucien up and down and noticed his wounds. And preceded to punch him in his shoulder. Lucien winced, and Jewel looked at him seriously with her arms crossed.

"That's for getting yourself hurt again. You look almost as bad as the last time I saw you, you stupid man!" Jewel cried. Lucien shrugged in embarrassment. He hardly ever got hurt like this, but it just so happened that he had run into a Huntsman earlier today. Before Lucien could react, Jewel grabbed him by the back of the head and crashed her lips into his in a passionate kiss. Lucien's previously busy mind went blank at the sensation of his wife's kiss, and he melted into her embrace and returned the kiss with fervour. Neither of them paused for breath for nearly thirty seconds, breaking apart and gasping for air with heaving shoulders and ragged breath.

"...What was that for?" Lucien asked breathlessly. Jewel smiled.

"That was for not being dead, idiot," Jewel said, grabbing Lucien by his collar and dragging him down the hallway. Lucien raised a brow. This was not the reaction he was expecting from his wife. An hour of demanding to know where he had been and why? Perhaps. A long night of crying and shouting? Possibly. Getting stabbed multiple times? Maybe. But...this?

"...Don't you want to know where I've been? Aren't you angry?" Lucien asked, genuinely confused. Jewel shook her head.

"Believe me, I am furious. But we'll talk in the morning," Jewel said with a tone that left no room for argument, still pulling him along. She was just happy to have him back, and frankly, she didn't have it in her to be angry right now.

"W-where are we going?" Lucien asked nervously, slightly worried by his wife's actions.

"Bedroom," Jewel responded. Lucien swallowed.

"Y-yes ma'am."

---

January 11th, 76 AGW

John's Bunker...

"Go fish, you son of a biscuit!" Frost cried triumphantly. I chuckled and grabbed a piece of paper from the center of the crafting table turned gaming table.

After an hour of running out of topics for conversation (I couldn't very well talk about the majority of my life experiences with a thirteen-year-old), I had torn apart pieces of paper and wrote different animal names on each one until we had twenty pairs. Enough for a simple game of Go Fish. A simple game that I had won four times in a row, thus frustrating Frost and bringing out her competitive side. So far, she was under the illusion of a sure victory. But I knew better.

"Don't get cocky yet, young grasshopper. You have much yet to learn," I teased. Frost pouted and glared at me.

"I'm older than you, ya know," She mumbled, thumbing her last three cards. I smirked and put down my new match, enjoying the incredulous look Frost shot me.

"Got any ducks?" I asked with a grin. Frost grumbled angrily and handed me one of her cards. The majestic, victory earning, hastily made duck card. I set down another match and took a moment to accentuate my last card. Frost sighed and looked at her cards unsurely.

"Ummm...do you...have...a snake?" Frost asked indecisively. I shook my head and she groaned.

"Do you have a-"

"Oum, yes! I have a snake!" Frost finished for me, slamming her snake card down on the Crafting Table for me to grab. Which I did, very smugly. My ultimate strategy at work, giving the opponent a false sense of security so that they reveal their cards and then strike!

"Do you have a cow?" Frost asked hopefully. Once again, I dashed her hopes.

"Go fish Frosty," I told her. She picked up a card with a shrug and looked at me expectantly. This is it. If I get a match on this turn, she can't possibly catch up to me by the end of the game. Now, do I sabotage myself and go fishing or do I take a shot at her cow card? Either way, there's a high risk of failure, she could be psyching me out by asking for a cow. Come to think of it, I haven't seen any pig cards yet...

"Hmmm...do you have a pig?" I asked hopefully, taking a small gamble.

"How? How do you do it?" She asked deadpan. I raised a brow in amusement. That would be a 'yes'. Another victory for me.

"Why, whatever do you mean? Does this mean you have-"

"You know that I do! How do you always know?!" Frost asked incredulously, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Magic," I answered simply, wiggling my fingers. Frost groaned and I chuckled. Frost tossed her card down on the table, and I collected all the cards and shuffled them.

"So, another game then?" I asked. Frost looked at me, then at the cards, then back at me. I offered her a hand of cards, and she swiped them out of my hand.

"I will beat you this time!" Frost said confidently. Keep that determination coming, it will only make my victory that much sweeter. A ringtone distracted me from the game. I fumbled with the cards for a moment and pulled my scroll out of my pocket.

Qrow - It's safe

I blinked. That was fast, I expected our attackers to search for us for quite a bit longer. Unless they gave up on searching entirely...? I typed a quick message back to Qrow and hit send. A response came back quickly after. Followed by two more messages.

John - Are you sure

Qrow - No, I'm only partly sure

Qrow - Of course I'm sure!

Qrow - Get the girl home. I don't feel like dealing with angry parents this early in the morning

John - Will do

I turned off my scroll and stuffed it back in my pocket. So they really gave up that easily, did they? That doesn't bode well for us, all things considered. It could mean that whoever this 'Lord Of Darkness' is has a grander plan and didn't want to risk it by sending his pawns into the sewer after us. It could also mean that there is no plan at all, and our attackers are content to wait patiently for the next opportunity. Or it could mean that neither of them has a clue what they're doing. None of those options sound promising, but I suppose things could always be worse. With my luck, things are almost always the worst-case scenario. Frost brushed a silver lock behind her ear and looked at me curiously.

"What is it?" Frost asked. I gave her a smirk.

"The Huntsman has cleared the area, so we can go home now," I explained. Frost dropped her cards tiredly.

"Finally...I'm pretty tired, honestly," Frost admitted. I nodded in understanding. It was pretty early in the morning so I was having a bit of trouble staying awake too, even if it's only because of my younger body.

"Shall I escort you home, then?" I offered courteously. I offered Frost my arm, and She tilted her head at me.

"What, are we dating now?" Frost joked with a poorly hidden smirk. I quirked an eyebrow. An attempt to tease calls for retaliation!

"Why, would you like to be?" I teased. Frost blushed and sputtered for a moment until I waved her off with a light chuckle. If you're gonna fire a shot, you better be prepared for shots to be fired back. I stood and walked over to the door.

"Don't worry yourself, I only jest. A man need not be courting a woman to accompany her home. It's called being chivalrous," I explained.

"You're hardly a man," Frost shot lightheartedly, still sporting a light dusting of pink on her cheeks. She stood and made her way to where I was.

"You're hardly a woman," I retorted quickly while unlocking the steel door.

"Touché," Frost replied, reluctantly hooking her arm through mine. I swung open the huge metal door, half expecting to see the white-cloaked man waiting there for us. When he wasn't I stepped forward and led Frost back into the sewer tunnels, shutting the large door behind us.

The walk back to the manhole was largely uneventful, and quiet too since Frost pinched her nose and kept her mouth shut the whole way. Not that I blame her, the smell down here is by no means pleasant. I climbed the old metal ladder first, pushing the manhole cover aside and poking out my head to take a look outside. Aside from a few splatters of dried blood, the alleyway looked the same as always. I pulled myself up and out and offered Frost my hand to help her up once she reached the top of the ladder. She took it, and let out an 'eep' when I effortlessly lifted her out with one hand and set her down.

"Oum, how are you so strong without aura?" Frost mumbled. I grinned.

"It's all in the training I do. It has to do with lifting weight from a distance. I call it the arms-length principle!" I exclaimed. At first, Frost didn't seem to catch my pun. Then her expression morphed from mild curiosity to a scowl that said 'I see what you did there and I don't like it'. She spun on her heel and walked out of the alley, evidently intent on getting home before I made another pun. I smirked and chased after her.

"Come ooon, it was funny!"

---

Lucien rushed down the hallways in the medical building of a small desert village outside of Vacuo. Nothing but sand and rock surrounded them for miles here, and yet that had not stopped a group of raiders from attacking with the Grimm right behind them. Lucien was the only huntsman left alive, all the others had fallen. Wounds littered Lucien's body, visible through tears in his clothing, which burned with every movement. Lucien's dust infusion tattoos stung from overuse, and his muscles ached and screamed from the constant abuse of his intense battle. But none of that mattered. Hospital staff dove to the sides to get out of his way as he moved swiftly towards the maternity wing, no doctor or nurse daring to step in front of the determined Huntsman. Lucien burst through the doors, and searched the room with his eyes, quickly finding a nurse.

"You there! My wife! Where is my wife and child!?" Lucien boomed. The startled nurse meekly pointed down the hall and stuttered out a room number. Just like that, Lucien was off again, trailing drops of crimson blood every few steps. His wife was in labour, and it was the only thing that had gotten him through the battle against the Grimm and raiders. He would not allow his child to grow up without a father as he had. Most of all, he would not allow anyone or anything on Remnant to harm his wife or child. Lucien's clothes were torn and stained with blood and dirt, and the scythe that he still clutched in one hand has marred with gore. Perhaps if he hadn't been awake and fighting for the last twenty-eight hours, Lucien would have noticed a suspicious lack of staff or guards outside the room. Lucien reached the door and hesitated for only a moment.

'Is this any way to greet my wife and child?' Lucien briefly considered. He pushed the thought aside and twisted the doorknob, striding into the room with as big a smile as he could muster.

Lucien's smile, however, immediately faltered. Inside the room, was a floating red orb with black and white spikes at the base, tapering off into spiked red tentacles. A Grimm. It's appendages curled around his unconscious wife's arms and legs, restraining her to the bed. Beside her stood a young man with short black hair and a large moustache. He wore grey suit pants with a yellow button-up underneath a red vest and a stylish grey coat over all of it. In his gloved hands, he held a wailing child wrapped in a white blanket, and he stared at Lucien with cold green eyes. Lucien froze with fear, not for his own life but for that of his wife and child. Underneath his fear, anger urged him to strike the man down. But something told him that he would be better off staying where he was. The door closed behind him, and the man spoke.

"This is a beautiful little girl you have, Mr. Gemini. You would do well to keep her safe," The charismatic voice was laced with venom, a barely concealed disdain telling Lucien that this man had no pure intentions to speak of. His grip tightened on his scythe, but he held himself back.

"...what do you want from me?" Lucien asked, trying and failing to keep the fear and anger out of his voice.

"You have been a very large thorn in my master's side. I want you dead. But my master believes you are more valuable to us alive,"

"Please, I have no clue who you are! Leave my family alone," Lucien pleaded, eyeing the strange Grimm nervously.

"You misunderstand Mr. Gemini. There is no choice in the matter. What happened tonight can be considered a warning, and if you refuse our generous offer than there will be nowhere on Remnant you can hide," The man spoke condescendingly. Lucien suddenly realized that this man had likely coordinated the attack on the village, or at least was affiliated with the raiders. Lucien had enough of listening and raised his scythe threateningly. The man sighed and with a gesture, he commanded the Grimm to show who was in charge. The tentacles rose and poised their spikes to impale both Lucien's wife and child. Lucien panicked and dropped his scythe immediately, raising his hands in surrender. He shouldn't have tried to call the man's bluff.

"OKAY, I give! Whatever you want. As long as my wife and daughter are safe..." Lucien agreed hastily. The man made another subtle gesture, and the Grimm backed off.

"Wise choice, Mr. Gemini. I will give you one week to say goodbye to your wife and child, then I will return for you," The man said, gently handing Lucien's baby to him, wrapped in a blanket.

Lucien took his daughter gently and slowly, almost forgetting about everything around him when he saw her face. The child's crying quieted and then stopped when she saw her father, somehow able to tell it was him. Children had such a bewildering sense of intuition. Soft pale skin and rose-pink eyes like his, and a smiling round face that Lucien had no doubt would mature into a beautiful young woman's face one day. Lucien vowed there and then that he would allow nothing to happen to his little girl. Even if he had to vow allegiance to bandits. Even if he had to slaughter innocents. Even if he had to burn the entire world to ashes. Lucien noticed that his face felt wet, and sure enough, tears streaked down his dirty cheeks in red and black lines. When Lucien looked up, the man and his Grimm were gone and Jewel was still asleep, blissfully unaware of the danger that she and her child had been in. Perhaps she didn't even know that there had been an attack?

Lucien sat down slowly beside his wife, rocking the child in his arms gently because he was unsure what else to do. Did the baby need food? What did babies eat? By Oum, he was already messing up-

"...Luce? Is that you? I must have fallen asleep..." Jewel murmured, waking up and snapping Lucien out of his thoughts. What was he going to say to her?

"Welcome back to the land of the living, desert flower. Have you met our daughter yet?" Lucien said lovingly, moving closer and stretching out his arms so Jewel could see her daughter. A huge smile spread across her face, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"I want...can I...?" Jewel began with a trembling voice, unable to finish her question. Lucien chuckled softly.

"Of course, you're the one who carried her for nine months after all," Lucien said with amusement. He carefully laid the silent child in his wife's eagerly outstretched arms. She brought the sleeping infant close to her chest and gave an affectionate coo. While she was distracted, Lucien quickly unbuttoned and removed his bloodied and dirtied coat.

"She's beautiful, Luce. She has your eyes," Jewel said happily. Lucien hummed in a contented agreement.

"And she has your beauty. She'll need a name," Lucien said. Jewel hummed in thought.

"...how about Frost Tiana?" Jewel suggested, never taking her eyes off of her newborn. Lucien raised a brow.

"I like it. Tiana is your mother's name, but how did you come up with Frost?" Lucien asked curiously.

"When I was a little girl, I always snuck out at night to lay on the frosted ground and look at the stars. It was such a contrast to the blisteringly hot, bland desert I was used to. It was special to me," Jewel explained. Lucien couldn't stop the soft laugh that escaped his lips. His wife sure did hate the desert, that much was true. And Lucien had to admit he had no soft spots for his homeland, Atlas. If Jewel hadn't gotten pregnant, the two of them would have left this wasteland long ago for a more colourful kingdom like Mistral.

"Frost is perfect," Lucien said fondly. Jewel looked back at him and seemed to notice for the first time how badly injured he was. Her smile turned to a worried frown.

"What happened? Lucien, are you okay?!" Jewel asked anxiously. Lucien held up a hand to calm her.

"I'll be fine, my remaining injuries are only superficial. But...we need to talk," Lucien said solemnly, and Jewel's anxiety doubled.

"...All of the other Huntsman are dead, Jewel. The bandits, they used the Grimm to slaughter us and then moved in and picked off the weak. And... Dust, they let me live. I...I...I have to go in a week," Lucien explained, on the verge of breaking down. Lucien had promised himself that he would never leave as his own father had, and here he was ready to pack his bags. Regardless of his good intentions, it made Lucien feel like a failure.

"What...?" Jewel breathed. Confusion mixed with fear in her expression and more tears began to build up in her eyes.

"Please understand, Flower, they were going to kill you and Frost! They still could...I agreed to go with them to save you," Lucien explained somberly. Jewel began to sob quietly.

"W-why now? Why...?" Jewel choked out. Lucien placed his hand on hers and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"I'll figure something out, I promise. But until then you need to take Frost and run away. Go somewhere you can hide and lay low, don't tell anyone who you are," Lucien told her. Jewel sniffled and nodded.

"I trust you, Luce. But for the love of Oum, you had better not keep us waiting long!" Jewel spoke bravely, despite her tears. Lucien's smile returned.

"I love you so much, Flower. Nothing can keep me away. But...we have six days before I have to go. Should we take our daughter home?" Lucien asked. Jewel's smile returned as well, and she looked lovingly down at Frost.

"Yes, I would like that,"

---

Lucien's eyes snapped open and a small gasp escaped his mouth. Sweat poured down his skin, and his heart was racing. Lucien took a breath and sat up, bringing a hand to his face as the blanket fell off of his bare form. How long had it been since he'd had such a vivid dream about the best and worst day of his life? Or a dream in general? Lucien shook his head and wiped the sleep out of his eyes, standing and glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Four-thirty in the morning. Lucien sighed and began pulling his clothes back on. Evidently, Jewel certainly had missed him. Lucien looked back at the sleeping form of his wife wistfully, wishing that he could stay with her forever. He wished he could stay and live peacefully here with them. He wished that he could get to know his daughter. But things were not quite so simple, Lucien remembered, bringing a small scowl to his lips. After Jewel had...erm, welcomed him back, he had told her of the circumstances as best as he could. Lucien had disclosed the existence of a faction working to end humanity, though he hadn't mentioned Salem or her magic, and what his orders were. He had confided in her about his indecision, something he had desperately missed being able to do for the last 14 years. Jewel took the news... better than most would have. While she was disappointed that he was literally working towards the extinction of mankind, she was surprisingly understanding of the situation. She had reassured him but was unable to provide him with any advice on the matter. After all, it was a moral dilemma that she had never encountered before. Lucien himself had committed countless sins of every nature imaginable for Salem, just to keep his family safe. And yet, now his family was involved directly and he had no clue what to do anymore. Jewel adamantly refused to leave Patch, especially now that she was beginning to trust again and feel comfortable. Lucien grumbled in frustration and picked up Lullaby from the floor, wondering why now of all times Jewel had to be stubborn like her father. Lucien would do his best to talk her out of it later, but his hopes were not high.

With moving his family to a safer location no longer an option, Lucien was trapped. It was becoming increasingly difficult to force himself to kill a child, his daughter's friend no less, and he simply couldn't raze the entire island of Patch with his family still living on it. Brothers forbid if Entity felt like making a fuss at the prison, then Lucien would have to intervene there as well and become Patch's new most-wanted criminal. And if Lucien left things for too long, Salem would send someone to check on him. That would not end well at all. Or... would it? Depending on who Salem sent, Lucien might still be able to manipulate the situation. It wouldn't be Arthur, he was busy infiltrating Haven. Cinder was only a young woman barely out of her teens, and though her training was coming along nicely, she wouldn't be able to hold a candle to him if it came down to it. Besides, Salem was preparing her to go searching for the Fall Maiden in Vale. Unless a replacement for Entity had already been provided by his master, which Lucien very much doubted, that left Tyrion or Hazel. Hazel could be convinced to spare Patch. Tyrion would destroy Patch immediately upon arrival, the sadistic bastard. Then something occurred to Lucien. Salem didn't know what John looked like, so all Lucien needed was a dead boy and John's sword. Of course, if he was caught lying to her grace...

A noise downstairs snapped Lucien out of his thoughts and sent him spiralling into combat mode. It was the sound of a window being unlatched and slid open, in the room directly below him. Lucien crept downstairs silently, attaching Lullaby to the magnetic pad on the small of his back and pulling out his pistol. If this was a robber, they had chosen a very poor time and place to rob someone. Lucien swept down the stairs and through the kitchen like a ghost, pistol trained towards the source of the offending noise all the while. Lucien came to a carpeted hallway and heard another sound from within a white door at the end of the hallway. Lucien approached the door cautiously, and with one hand training the gun forward and the other twisting the doorknob, he activated his semblance and swung the door slightly ajar. The scene that greeted him wasn't at all what he expected. Instead of the amateur robber Lucien had expected, his daughter was haphazardly pulling herself through her bedroom window. Thank Oum Lucien was invisible, if Frost had seen him things would have gotten complicated. She fumbled to get her shoes off for a moment, then turned back to the window.

"Thanks, John. I'll see you at school on Monday!" Frost said with a tired smile. John responded, but Lucien couldn't make out exactly what he said. Whatever it was seemed to make Frost perk up excitedly. Lucien gently closed the door and sighed.

"I hate my job...I hate my boss...I hate my colleagues..." Lucien muttered as he crept back upstairs.

"I love my wife. I love my daughter. I love...no, that's it. Everything else sucks," Lucien muttered back to himself. There was the sound of a shower turning on upstairs, and Lucien sighed. Time to go face his angry wife.

---

January 13, 76 AGW

John D. Rose POV

Day 1 of training

"So you really took down an Ursa by yourself?" Frost asked, understandably a little skeptical. I nodded. Frost and I were walking down the sidewalks in downtown Patch, on our way to my hideout after school. Frost had eagerly asked me if we could start training today, and I had begrudgingly agreed. I tried to explain that training wasn't quite so simple or easy to just start out of nowhere, but she insisted. I must admit though that I love her enthusiasm. We shall see how long it lasts.

"With some degree of difficulty, yes. They may be big and strong, but they're dumb and easy to predict. In short, on their own young Ursa are an easy target. Now if I had encountered a family of them, things would have turned out much differently," I explained casually. Frost shuddered.

"Yeah, no kidding... so what happened after that?" Frost asked curiously, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

"A pack of Beowolfs joined the party. Luckily uncle Qrow showed up at that point because I was definitely in no condition to handle them," I admitted, a little bit embarrassed. Being heavily wounded and suffering from malnutrition was no excuse for being unable to handle oneself. Of course, I had just travelled across space and time so I suppose that constitutes an acceptable excuse. Regardless, I've survived against insurmountable odds for most of my lifetime, and that is a track record I hope to keep up.

"Yeah, no kidding. Do you think I could get that good?" Frost asked dreamily. I quirked a brow in amusement. We turned a corner, walking briskly down a familiar street lined with small businesses. At the end of the street, between a quaint little bookstore with an apartment on top and a hardware store, was the alley that led out to the forest. Of course, we were heading for the partially hidden manhole behind the dumpster.

"That depends on you, dear Frosty. Are you ready and willing to work harder than you'll ever work again?" I asked seriously. Frost snapped out of her daydream and glanced at me anxiously.

"Will it really be that hard?" Frost asked. I nodded. Frost was silent for several moments before she responded.

"...I'm ready," Frost said simply. After that, we fell into a relative silence until we reached the alleyway.

"Can I ask you something, John?" Frost asked abruptly, surprising me.

"Of course," I responded quickly.

"Why do you cover your arm?" Frost asked hesitantly. I blinked. Okay, so we're talking about this now. Well, not much point in hiding it anymore. Still, I probably shouldn't go telling people about my infection willy nilly now...

"Well, it's scarred pretty badly. I keep it hidden because it isn't very nice to look at," I answered honestly, moving the manhole cover and climbing down. Frost followed, moving the cover back with some difficulty.

"That makes sense... what about your other scars? They don't really bother me, but aren't they pretty bad?" Frost asked innocently, scrunching her nose a bit as the sewage smell hit her nostrils. I lit the torch and helped Frost the rest of the way down the ladder, making sure to prevent her from stepping on a divet in the bottom rung.

"Not compared to my arm," I answered simply. Frost didn't speak again after that, though whether it was because she was trying to hold her breath or because her curiosity was sated was beyond me.

I walked quickly and quietly down the passages, almost unconsciously following the route to my bunker and holding the torch out in front of us. I pulled away the hollowed-out brick without looking, grabbed the key and unlocked the door with practiced motions. I swung the vault door open and stood aside, allowing Frost to go in first, and I closed the door behind me as I followed her in. In the center of the large room, I had cleared out a decently sized space and drawn a big circle on the floor with white chalk. Against the far wall was a weapon rack that I fashioned from oak, holding up a dozen different variations of weapons made from wood. There was a spear, two short swords, a long sword, two bastard swords, a quarterstaff, two hand axes, a battle axe, two daggers, a bow, and a crossbow. Beside the rack, there was a practice dummy made from leather and wood, stuffed with hay and cotton.

"What's with the circle?" Frost asked, visibly confused. I chuckled. We both dumped our backpacks onto the floor by the door and walked into the middle of the room. I turned to face Frost with a grin and smirked.

"I'll explain the circle in a moment. Now, I know I sound like a broken jukebox, but are you sure you want to go through with this? There will be days you'll want desperately to quit. There will be days you're so sore and your hands so numb from blisters that you'll want to cry. There will be sleepless nights and early mornings. There will be blood and tears. From this moment on, if you agree, I'll tutor you in the way of the blade and I won't go easy on you, nor will I allow you to slack off," I said dramatically. Darien gave me and Shay a variation of this speech before he officially welcomed us to the Order Of Rose and began our training, so I thought it fitting to give Frost the same introduction. Frost looked down thoughtfully for a moment before she answered.

"I think- No, I know that I want to be a Huntress when I grow up! If this is what it takes to get there, I'm prepared to go the distance!" Frost declared with resolve, meeting my gaze with intense determination shining through her rose-pink eyes. I smiled.

"Good. Now, let's see how long you can keep up that enthusiasm!" I exclaimed, motioning for her to follow me. She did, and we approached the weapon rack. Normally, I would lean towards sparring with real weapons so that we could get used to the weight and feel of them as we train. But without any prior training at all, and also due to our age, I thought practice weapons would be a wiser choice.

"First thing's first, we need to find your weapon. Everyone has a different style of fighting, regardless of skill or experience. This means that different weapons suit different people. Our goal for today is simply to figure out what weapons you really click with. These are an assortment of the more simple weapon types, so they're a good place to start looking. Go ahead and pick one," I told Frost.

I stepped aside so Frost could have free range to inspect the Practice weapons on the rack. Her eyes glanced over the daggers and axes apathetically, and she skipped over the bows entirely. Frost's eyes sparked with interest, however, when she came to the swords and spears. I watched with equal interest as Frost reached out timidly and grabbed the spear. I raised a brow, surprised and intrigued by her choice. The spear is the easiest weapon for someone without any real training to use effectively, and it could potentially be used as a ranged weapon as well. That being said, even a beginner with talent can't hold a candle to an unarmed master, but I digress. Most beginners go with the sword or axe, simply because they look easier to use. Frost held the spear out in front of herself and tested the weight, then gave it an experimental swing and stab. Frost turned to me with a smile, seeming pleased with her decision. I smiled back and grabbed the wooden bastard sword.

"Well, if that's your choice then let us begin," I said, and we walked back into the circle. We stood at opposite ends, and I held my sword out with the tip pointed down at the ground.

"Sooooo... what are we doing?" Frost asked unsurely.

"We are going to spar so I can get a feel for how you fight. If we're lucky, the spear is a good weapon for you. Now, we are going to have a little spat inside this chalk circle. If you leave the circle, if you are disarmed and pinned, or if you are hit by your opponent's weapon, you lose. Anything else is permitted. Do you understand?" I asked. Frost nodded and crouched with both hands on her spear, apparently trying to mimic the stance that the Entity did the other day. I did my best not to cringe at how bad the stance was, and nodded back.

"Begin," I said simply.

Frost thrust her spear at me immediately and I leaned out of the way casually. She followed up with a wide swing, which I ducked under dexterously, and another thrust which I batted away without looking. Frost broke into a dash towards me, thrusting her spear forward wildly. I sidestepped the attack easily and stuck my foot out, tripping Frost and sending her flying out of the circle with a startled look on her face. She tumbled onto the ground in a summersault, crashing into a pile of haphazardly stacked iron bars.

"Apologies, Frost. The good news is that you aren't half bad with the spear. Now, can you tell me what your first mistake was?" I asked, falling back into old habits. Frost got back to her feet quickly and blew a strand of hair out of her face in annoyance while she grabbed her spear.

"Assuming you would play fair?" Frost asked seriously. Again, I must admit I am surprised by Frost's willingness to learn and lack of bitterness in defeat. The last time I had a decent student was when I taught Jack to fight, but even he was a sore loser.

"No. Unlike my skirmishes with the white-cloaked man, this is a simple spar so playing fair is to be expected. Your first mistake was rushing headfirst into the fight, you should take a moment to observe your opponent and continue to be vigilant of them while you fight. You might learn something useful about them. Your second mistake was putting your entire weight behind your last attack. While it is true that experienced fighters can do so without losing their balance, an amateur such as yourself is relatively easy to unbalance." I explained.

"...Oh. Yeah, that makes sense," Frost muttered sheepishly, taking her place back at the other side of the circle.

"Good, because I don't like repeating myself. Now, let's begin again!" I exclaimed. Frost pointed her spear forward and advanced more slowly this time, keeping her eyes trained on my sword. Her fatal mistake. I kicked out with my leg in a low arc, sweeping Frost's knee and knocking her flat on her back. She coughed for a minute, regaining her breath, and sat up unsteadily.

"You suck, you know that right?" Frost wheezed. I chuckled and helped her up. We have a lot of work to do.

---

January 17th, 76 AGW

5th day of training

"...6..." John counted. John and Frost both rose slowly in a push-up, stopping just before their arms extended entirely and dropping back down equally as slow. John descended with ease while Frost grunted with effort, struggling to force her shaking arms and stomach to keep working. Every minor movement burned, every twinge in her tired muscles felt like a strong punch, and every ragged breath was heavy and difficult. Frost grit her teeth and finished her descent, holding the position for several seconds before she rose in tandem with John.

"...7..." John counted. One more, and then Frost could rest. One more and then she could collapse with the sweet feeling of victory. Frost's hair hung around her head like white drapes, pooling on the ground below her. Sweat soaked her shirt and dripped down her face and neck as she lowered herself back down. When John had told her that they would be starting physical training, she hadn't been sure what he meant. Wasn't their sparring physical training? She had thought so up until the first push-up was over. And John's push-ups were so much harder than regular ones, so much so that despite Frost having already tried push-ups in her room each previous morning to get in shape, she could only get to the fifth push-up with John two days ago. He assured her that she was doing surprisingly well, but Frost felt otherwise. Frost began pushing herself back up, and suddenly her arms stopped obeying her commands. She fell to the ground unceremoniously and rolled over, chest heaving and eyes wide.

"...so...close..." Frost managed between heavy breaths. John chuckled, and stood up.

"Great job, Frost! So...are you ready to spar?" John asked with a sympathetic smile.

"Dust..." Frost cursed.

---

January 18th, 76 AGW

6th day of training

Frost let out a cry of victory as she successfully parried an attack from John. Only to be cut short as a disarming maneuver from John wrenched her spear from her hands, and clattering to the ground. Despite her defeat, however, Frost simply smiled. John had been teaching her to properly parry and deflect strikes today, and this had been the first time that she had done it.

"Very good, you've got the timing down. Now we need to work on refining your execution," John stated. Frost's victorious smile faltered, morphing into incredulity.

"But that was an AWESOME parry! How could I make that better?" Frost asked, slightly miffed that her achievement seemed to be getting belittled. John held up a hand in surrender.

"Don't get me wrong, you are doing amazing. What I mean is that a parry that only blocks or knocks away your opponents attack is good. But a parry that shifts their momentum and knocks them off-balance is much better," John explained calmly. Frost's brow furrowed ever so slightly.

"Sooooo... how do I do that?" Frost asked a little awkwardly. John grinned, the kind of grin he always had when he made a bad joke or messed around.

"Guess," John said smugly, preparing to fight again. Frost puffed her cheeks out in annoyance and steadied her spear, already working out how to do what John said in her head. John knew very well that she hated it when he made her learn things by herself.

'Oh well, trial by fire it is,' Frost thought in resignation.

---

January 29th, 76 AGW

17th day of training

Frost swung her spear in a wide arc, forcing John to back up a step and allowing her to safely follow up with a thrust. As he always did, John flicked his wooden sword out in a brown blur, deflecting the strike without expending an ounce of energy. As if his effortless defence hadn't been frustrating enough, John faked a yawn and fluttered his eyes, feigning boredom. Frost grit her teeth and resisted the urge to go smack him silly. John had started doing things to annoy and provoke Frost in the middle of their spars since day six. At first, Frost had always fallen for his tricks, until he explained himself. He was teaching her to ignore provocative enemies, who would try and trick her into making a mistake in her anger or frustration. Good Oum, was it annoying. But then again, that was the whole point. John took a step forward and Frost slashed at him, making him stop his advance.

"You call that a strike? Why bother trying?" John criticized. Frost growled and thrust at him, realizing too late that she had fallen for it again. John darted into her blind spot and smacked her in the back lightly with his sword.

"Hit. Good job Frost, you lasted sixteen seconds longer that time!" John encouraged genuinely. Frost groaned.

"You aren't even trying though! How am I supposed to learn if all you do is beat me up!?" Frost complained in a rare moment of frustration. John smiled at her knowingly.

"Sometimes the best way to win is to lose. You may not have noticed, but with every defeat, you have learned something new and adapted. Every day your blows become stronger and stronger. The fact that you can spare this much energy to fight after our workouts is a perfect example of how far you've come in such a short time," John encouraged genuinely. Frost's frustration dissipated and was replaced by a warm feeling in her chest. As usual, John knew exactly what to say, almost as if he had done this before. Frost sat up and used her spear as leverage to pull herself back to her feet.

"What's next then?" Frost asked tiredly, her exhaustion obvious in her tone. John smirked.

"What's next is you take a break and observe. I need to get back into my own workouts and forms, so you can take a minute to rest while I do. Watch closely, and see if you can learn anything," John said. Frost exhaled with relief and dragged her feet to the old wooden chair (now with a cup holder for water) and collapsed unceremoniously into it. John grabbed Custos Vitae and walked to the circle, where he unsheathed the blade and began his forms. Frost didn't pay much attention at first, but after she had caught her breath, she began watching John closely as he had instructed. His movements were quick and precise, practiced motions that Frost figured he could perform with his eyes closed. John moved from motion to motion fluidly and with little effort, going through his forms as naturally as one might breathe. Frost found herself enraptured by the movements John made and the sparkling blue blade he brandished, moving gracefully across the room as if dancing. John took notice of Frost's blatant staring and smiled.

"...What have you noticed about my forms?" John asked calmly. Frost blinked, having forgotten that she was supposed to try and learn something. She narrowed her eyes in concentration, watching John closely. The way he moved his sword was indeed natural for him, comfortable even. It was as if it was a part of him.

"...You move your sword like it's part of you," Frost said confidently. John nodded absently, still focusing on his forms.

"Good, yes. Our weapons are not a foreign object. They are an extension of ourselves, a familiar feeling that you can call upon at any time. This mastery and familiarity comes with practice, and you'll get there in due time. What else?" John encouraged. Frost had once tried to lift John's sword out of curiosity, and he had laughed when she swung it and was thrown across the room by its momentum. The way John swung and thrust his sword made it seem as if there was no momentum at all. It was different, in a small way, from how he swung during their spars.

"...The way you swing your sword, it's different. It's like...I dunno, like you're pushing and pulling it at the same time. Does that make sense?" Frost said unsurely. John chuckled.

"Yes, it does. I have to swing differently depending on whether I'm going to hit something or not. When you swing something with weight to it, you can't just stop mid-swing either. Inertia would take over and the momentum would carry you forward, as you well know. It is very important to follow through with your strikes, but it's important not to overcompensate too. You must find the happy medium, and then you can chain your strikes together with relative ease," John explained with a smirk, mentally noting that Frost was far more observant than she seemed. He continued with his forms, exaggerating his movements a little more so that Frost could see what he was talking about. She watched intently, starting to understand just how out-of-her-league John was. His skills with the blade were incomprehensible for a boy of his age, in fact, Frost figured that even Signal students probably didn't have this level of mastery over their weapon. But of course, that was only speculation. In addition, though, his physical strength and emotional maturity could baffle Frost at times.

"Just who are you, John Rose..?" Frost absently thought out loud.

"What was that, Frost?" John asked. Frost froze for a moment, unaware that she had said that out loud.

"Erm...I just asked if your style has a name?" Frost sputtered. John rose a brow.

"It's called Mollique Fluentem Gladium, which roughly translates to Flowing Flower Of The Sword. The original style was invented by a legendary swordsman named Hiro, and it's designed to allow a master to defend and attack simultaneously. Over time, I've integrated aspects of several other martial arts to create what you see now. It is hard yet soft, graceful yet destructive, much like water," John explained. Frost tilted her head at his description, which didn't make a whole lot of sense.

"...Hard yet soft?" Frost asked in confusion.

"That would be a reference to the aspect of discipline. When you strike, you have to precisely gauge the strength and speed required; neither too hard nor too soft. If you can master this, you can dish out devastating attacks with minimal effort. Does that make a little more sense?" John explained. Frost opened her mouth slightly as if to say 'Ah' and took a drink of water from the bottle in the chairs cup holder. As she did so, John sheathed his blade and tied the hilt to the scabbard with a peace knot. Frost tilted her head curiously as he approached her with the weapon.

"Now, let's see if you can apply what you've learned. Last time you swung my sword, you took flight," John snickered at the memory of the incident, then continued, "so see if you can follow through with the strike and stay standing."

Frost obliged, reaching out and grabbing Custos Vitae with both hands. When John let go, the weight of the sword nearly sent her sprawling forward out of the chair. After seeing how John moved with his sword, Frost had forgotten how deceivingly heavy it was. John stood aside, watching intently, and Frost stood up and walked to the middle of the room. She closed her eyes, thinking back on how John swung his sword. Her arms and legs moved to imitate his stance as best as she could, and with a heave, she swung the sword in a downward arc. This time instead of trying to stop the blade, Frost took a step forward and let the blade continue in a low sweep to her side. She blinked her eyes open in surprise. Had she done it? An impressed whistle from John gave her the impression that she had.

"First try, very nice. Don't get cocky though, swinging a blade and striking with a blade are two very different things," John congratulated. The fact that she had copied his stance well enough to swing a sword that she couldn't easily lift was exciting. Frost had talent, that was for sure. Now, if she could stick to her training she would gain skill and experience. Frost perked up at the praise and gave John his sword back.

"Can we spar again? I want to try it with my spear!" Frost asked excitedly. John smirked.

'Talented indeed'

---

March 11th, 76 AGW

Day 29 of training

Frost struck out with her spear, almost twice as fast as she had been when she started her training. John, standing idly and reading the book in his left hand, parried Frost's strike absently with the wooden sword in his right hand. Frost kept up her offensive, diverting the momentum of her spear to strike at John's legs. He lazily lifted one leg and kicked the shaft of her spear away, forcing Frost to rebalance herself. Frost grumbled in frustration and stepped back to create some distance before John decided to start fighting back. Evidently, John was as skilled at multitasking as he was at infuriating his opponents. John had been reading up on myths and legends of Remnant and decided that now was as good a time as any to teach Frost how to take advantage of a distracted opponent. So far, Frost hadn't had much success in applying his lessons. But then, John was apparently invincible anyway so how could she know if she was doing well? John hummed in silent intrigue at something he read, and Frost weaved around into his blindspot to try and strike his shoulder. Unfazed, John simply leaned back and let the spearhead pass him by while he turned the page. Frost followed up with a thrust aimed for his head which John caught between the blade and crossguard of his sword, twisting and flicking his wrist to send the spear flying out of Frost's grasp. Frost stood there with a stunned look on her face just long enough for John to position the tip of the wooden blade above Frost's collarbone.

"Dead. Good match though, Frost, you're improving at an alarming rate!" John encouraged, finally looking away from the pages of his book with a smile. Frost gave him a deadpan stare and crossed her arms.

"How the heck do you even fight without looking?" Frost asked with an annoyed tone. John smirked.

"You're predictable. I've fought you enough, and I've fought enough other amateurs in my time, to know exactly what you're going to do," Frost took on an expression of surprise and mild offence.

"How is this a fair fight then!?" Frost demanded, throwing her hands up in an aggressive shrug. John's expression turned much more serious, taking Frost off-guard.

"No fight is ever fair, Frost. No matter what anyone ever tells you, no fight no battle no match, nothing is ever fair. There is only the illusion of fairness, and the ability to take advantage of those under that illusion. For example..." John trailed off, spinning around striking with his wooden sword. A crescent-shaped wave of displaced air and magical energy shot out from the blade, flying across the room at a surprising speed and slamming into the wall hard enough to leave a shallow scrape. Frost's jaw dropped, and John turned back to face her.

"...If you could use magic and I said you aren't allowed to use it, that would be unfair. However, if you could use your magic but your opponent couldn't then that is also unfair. Even if both of you can use magic, one of you is more adept with it than the other. As you can see, even with a wooden sword I can deal a killing blow from a distance. Would that be fair to an opponent with a steel weapon or a gun? I'm not fighting fair, I'm just not fighting dirty," John explained. Frost nodded dumbly, still a bit surprised by the blatant use of magic.

"...John? What was that, and why didn't you use it in your fight with the white-cloak guy?" Frost asked after a few seconds of awkward silence had passed. John shrugged.

"Because a proper Sweeping Wave with Custos Vitae would have cut down half the trees there, and I didn't want to risk crushing you. Although I suppose Sweeping Edge may have been plausible...eh, live and learn," John said as if it was obvious. Sometimes he forgot that magic wasn't commonly practiced on Remnant. Frost thought about it for a moment, then relented.

"...Fine, be logical, whatever," Frost grumbled as she picked up her spear and re-entered the circle. John smirked and re-opened his book casually, raising his sword in a basic guard.

"I will be. Begin!" John said.

Frost dashed forward, spear poised to stab John in the gut. John flicked his sword down to parry the strike, but that was what Frost wanted. She redirected the momentum to the other end of the spear, just like John had taught her, swinging it around to try and hit the book out of John's hand. John snapped the book shut, knocking the pole away with the spine of the book and simultaneously delivering a swift chop to Frost's thigh with the wooden sword. She fell to one knee but had enough sense to raise her spear to block the oncoming sword strike, and then pushed the sword away. Frost came up with a plan suddenly, hoping to Oum that she could finally catch John off-guard with it. She thrust at his chest with the spear, letting go as John moved to parry and dashed into his personal space. Frost threw a fist at his face, savouring the look of mild surprise in John's gaze as he turned to look at her. Then as fast as lightning John caught Frost's wrist in the crook of his elbow and clamped down with his bicep and forearm, effectively stopping her punch. Before Frost could process what was happening she was in the air and then slamming into the ground on her back, as John performed a body flip by instinct. The breath was knocked out of her lungs and something was definitely bruised, causing Frost to sputter and cough through her dazed state. John reeled back, realizing what he had done.

"Crap, I'm sorry Frost! My instincts kinda took over... but dang, I'm impressed. I've never seen a beginner try abandoning their weapon to land a hit before!" John praised while fretting over Frost and checking to make sure he hadn't accidentally broken something. Frost sat up with his help, taking a few minutes to catch her breath. Until she noticed that she hadn't crossed the chalk line yet. Frost turned and threw her elbow at John's face, and he barely managed to duck away. Frost attacked again, pushing John and mounting him. John, who had not been expecting a CQC fight to ensue but wasn't complaining, threw up his arms to guard and see what Frost would do. Unfortunately for Frost, she hadn't planned this far and hesitated for just a moment too long. John flipped them over and put Frost into an armbar, once again waiting to see how she would react. Unsurprisingly, she cut her losses.

"Okay, I give!" Frost cried, collapsing in exhaustion as soon as John let her go. John sat up and chuckled.

"I admit it, you caught me off guard. Good job. But you are still inexperienced, young grasshopper, and have much yet to learn," John spoke in a teasing manner, giving Frost his trademark smirk. Frost sat up and gave him the stink eye.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I really thought I had you..." Frost muttered, disappointed in herself. John shook his head as if he had expected her answer.

"As I said, much to learn. Frost, you are learning at an exponential rate. Against an opponent of similar skill and experience, I am confident that your strategy would have prevailed. However, I am only fighting you at about one percent of my skill. If I wanted to beat you, it would be over before you realized it had begun. I want you to learn, so as you grow in strength I adjust my own accordingly. Thus, you should count this as a victory rather than a defeat!" John encouraged. Frost smirked and tilted her head at him.

"One percent huh? What are you, a Saiyan?" Frost remarked. John chuckled.

"I can only wish. Anyways, let's call it for today. That body flip probably strained your wrist, and we don't want you to over-exert and sprain it," John suggested. Now that Frost thought about it, her wrist was hurting a bit...

"Okay then. But I'll get you next time!"

---

Frost opened her front door as gingerly as possible, wincing when it creaked ever so slightly. She hesitated for a moment, waiting to see if anything happened. No doubt that Frost's mother would be unhappy to see her sneaking in covered in sweat and nursing a sore wrist. When nothing did, Frost opened the door the rest of the way and moved quietly inside the house, slipping off her shoes and hanging her coat on the coat rack. Frost closed the door gently and turned to head down the hall to her room. Wait, since when was there a coat rack? The lights flipped on to reveal Jewel Gemini holding Frost's coat in one hand and the light switch in the other, staring her daughter down with a stern and questioning look. Frost jumped in surprise when the lights blinded her, and as soon her eyes adjusted and she saw her mother, her stomach dropped. Jewel wasn't in her nightclothes, so she had been waiting for some time. Or she expected Frost to make a run for it.

"...h-hey mom, nice night for a walk huh?" Frost said nervously. Jewel raised a brow at Frost's not-so convincing lie.

"Yes, it is. But you look like you've been exercising," Jewel said slyly. Frost laughed nervously.

"Haha, yeah I was jogging. Gotta get in shape, ya know?" Frost said, fiddling with her hands nervously. Jewel narrowed her eyes at her daughter, taking a step closer and sweeping her eyes up and down Frost observingly.

"Why do you need to get in shape?" Jewel asked coyly. Frost stuttered, a retort never making it past her lips before her mother spoke again.

"Your hands have calluses. You've been coming home late, sweaty and sore. And you smell like sewage," Jewel pointed out accusingly. Frost recoiled, both at the tone her mother took with her and the fact that she had noticed all this when Frost had worked hard to try and be sneaky about it.

"What's going on, Frost?" Jewel asked seriously, crossing her arms. Frost considered her options. On the one hand, she could lie. That would end poorly, for her and John. On the other hand, Frost could tell her mother the truth. That would also end poorly. Perhaps a mix of the two would be more appropriate.

"W-well... I made a friend at school. And their uncle is a Huntsmen, and he offered to give us lessons," Frost said, poking her fingers together. Jewel blinked, and her stern expression turned blank with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"...I'm getting really good with my spear..." Frost continued quietly when her mother didn't say anything for a long moment. Jewel sighed.

"Frost, come sit with me," Jewel said, moving to the living room with Frost in tow.

The room was a comfortable size, with a sliding glass door on the far side. White stucco ceiling with a fancy hanging light in the center paralleled a fluffy grey carpet, connected by white walls and crown moulding. An old fashioned wooden coffee table sat in the center of the room, flanked by a blue couch with white floral patterns and two lazy chairs of the same style on the opposite side. A television hung from the wall centred between the two chairs, and a large oil painting of a sky view of Haven hung above the couch. Glass drink coasters sat stacked on top of a round end table between the chairs, and an end table on either end of the couch sported a shaded lamp. The room was almost pristine, due to lack of use. The only time the Gemini's used their living room was when they had company over (which was never), or when a very serious conversation was taking place. As such, Frost had come to dread the living room and even go out of her way to avoid entering it when she was younger. In recent years Frost had dismissed the prospect of associating the living room with trouble as childish, but now as that familiar feeling of dread returned it didn't seem so silly anymore. Jewel sat down in one of the chairs and Frost sat uncomfortably on the couch, bracing herself for a harsh lecture and or punishment.

"Don't look so glum, dear, I'm not going to punish you," Jewel started, speaking calmly. Frost's eyes widened and she tilted her head at her mother in blatant confusion.

"Huh?" Frost managed, a little bit dumbfounded.

"Not yet, anyway," Jewel clarified. Frost shifted uncomfortably in her seat, waiting for her mother to continue. After a short pause and a tired sigh, she did.

"Explain, dear. Start from the beginning," Jewel asked, waiting patiently in her seat.

"...well, I met John on that night in December that it snowed really hard. I... Erm, I lost my necklace and he helped me find it. After that, we hung out at school a lot. He told me one day that he could fight, and I asked him if I could get lessons too, and his uncle had been teaching us for a couple of weeks..." Frost trailed off anxiously, losing confidence in her half-truths. Jewel tilted her head ever so slightly.

"And why do you smell when you come home, dear?" Jewel asked, prompting Frost to explain further.

"Erm, John and I take a shortcut through the sewer on our way home," Frost explained. Jewel sighed.

"You know how I feel about you becoming a Huntress, dear. It's just so dangerous, and I don't think you're well suited for it. Are you really sure that's what you want?" Jewel lied desperately. In truth, if Frost was anything like her father than she would excel in Signal. But the thought of her daughter fighting monsters was a tad frightening to Jewel. Frost nodded vigorously, a determination entering her eyes. Jewel silently cursed her genes for making her daughter as stubborn as her.

"...The rules and restrictions I have set down for us are there for a very good reason Frost. But... you're getting older," Jewel started, somewhat hesitant.

When she was young, Jewel had dreamt of freedom from her strict family and boring home. And now Jewel could see that Frost was going through the very same thing. It killed Jewel to be strict and disciplinary with her daughter, but with the circumstances surrounding Lucien leaving and the two of them being used as hostages, Jewel had felt like there was no choice. But things were different now. According to Lucien, as far as his captors turned colleagues were concerned, Jewel and Frost were living in a village ten miles out from Vale. As it turns out, identity thieves came in quite handy when one wanted to disappear. Now they were free. Lucien could tie up his loose ends and come home, and Frost could live like a normal girl with a somewhat normal family. Jewel considered for a moment that maybe she was being too optimistic, but brushed the thought away.

"I am fine with you having a few friends your age, so long as I approve of them. I'm... not overly pleased to hear that you've been taking Combat lessons behind my back, but I think I can work it out with your teacher," Jewel said slowly. Frost lit up excitedly.

"Really?!" Frost exclaimed.

"Yes. IF you can meet a few of my conditions. No more staying out past nine. No more coming home smelling like a toilet. And certainly no more lying to your mother!" Jewel said firmly. Frost nodded energetically, with a wide smile plastered across her face. Apparently, she thought she was getting the deal of a lifetime. All things considered, maybe she was.

"Now go shower and get to bed, I'll be wanting to accompany you to your lesson tomorrow!" Jewel said, pointing towards the stairs. Frost shot out of the couch and out of the room, eager to escape before her mother stopped being so weirdly nice. As soon as she left earshot, Jewel sunk back into her chair and turned to look at the empty chair beside her where she knew that Lucien was eavesdropping from. He materialized into existence with a sad smile.

"She's gotten so big..." Lucien mused. Jewel smiled.

"Yes. She reminds me of you, always so calm and determined," Jewel said. They sat in silence for several moments.

"That necklace she wears... is that the one I gave you on our first anniversary?" Lucien asked. Jewel hummed in contentment at the mention of their first anniversary.

"Yes. I gave it to her when she was old enough to talk and said it was from you. She never takes it off except to sleep... you know, you could see her without your semblance. She would love to meet you," Jewel said hopefully. A wistful look passed over Lucien's face.

"I would like nothing more than to meet my daughter. But... I cannot. Not yet."

"Frost is fourteen, Luce. If she decides to go to college, or Oum forbids she go to Signal, she'll be leaving this March! Our time is fleeting, and you know that better than I do," Jewel pleaded. Lucien shook his head gently.

"I know you worry about her Flower, but everything will be fine. This whole mess will be sorted out soon, I promise. I love you both dearly," Lucien said genuinely. A moment passed and when Jewel looked back, Lucien had vanished. A single tear fell from the corner of her eye.

"...I love you too."

---

March 12th, 76 AGW

Day 30 of training

John D. Rose POV

The sun broke over the treeline and shot beams of sunlight through my window, and I cracked my eyes open. I briefly considered sleeping in but decided not to, after all, a six AM wakeup is already far cry from the four-thirty mornings I used to have. I indulged in a long yawn and a deep stretch, sitting up and throwing the covers off. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and grabbed my Scroll off of the nightstand, doing a double-take when I saw that I had a notification. Maybe I should stop putting my phone on silent after curfew? I unlocked the device with a lazy swipe of my fingers and opened the messaging app. One text from Frost sent a few minutes ago.

Frost - My mom is coming today, and she thinks your uncle is teaching us PLEASE HELP!

I blinked. I narrowed my eyes at the translucent blue screen, making sure I read Frost's text correctly. As a matter of fact, I had. I typed in a hasty response and hit send, then went about getting dressed.

John - Okay I got this. But would you mind explaining exactly what's going on?

Blue jeans and a white t-shirt started my ensemble, followed by the silver necklace depicting a cross with a Rose in the centre, which I had gotten on Christmas. Finally, I threw on my black leather jacket that was slightly too big because it was a hand-me-down from Tai. Strapping on Custos Vitae, I spun around and checked my scroll again.

Frost - My mom caught me sneaking in last night, and now she wants to meet with my combat tutor

John - Ah. Say no more

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck anxiously. This is gonna be a whole thing, isn't it? I navigated to the contact list on my Scroll and selected Qrow's.

John - I need a favour

Qrow - You seem to need a lot of those

John - Not my fault that I'm twelve and I already have connections

Qrow - Brat

John - Drunk

Qrow - What do you need? I'm teaching a class today, in case you forgot

John - I need you to teach a class

Qrow - huh?

John - After school, front yard at home, just show up and do what you would do for your Signal students

Qrow - I'm a combat instructor, kiddo

John - Yup. Thanks lots!

Qrow - Hold on, I never agreed to this

Qrow - John

Qrow - reply you little brat

I smirked and powered down my scroll. He'll be there alright, now I just have to figure something out in case Frost's mom starts frequenting our training sessions. I suppose I can always improvise if I have to. I stuffed the scroll into my back pocket and scooped up my backpack from beside my dresser, double-checking the date on my calendar, before opening my door and making my way downstairs. Today was supposed to be a break from our usual schoolwork, since yesterday we wrote our tests and weren't assigned any new homework, but we were still told to come. Regardless, I had other plans for the day. I was planning to skip and go mining (I hit a vein of emeralds recently which means I'm getting close to diamonds), but since this all happened I think I'll see if Frost is willing to skip school with me and get a head start on our usual training routine.

As I came down the stairs I spotted dad collapsed on the living room couch, snoring like an angry giant. Poor guy must've crashed there after he got back from his night shift. Yang popped her head out of the kitchen door and cracked a smile, thrusting out her arm with a brown paper bag in hand. My name was scrawled haphazardly across the front in big bold letters, and the misshapen lumps in the sides gave me the distinct impression that a lunch had been hastily crammed inside. I returned Yang's smile and came to a halt in front of her.

"Sis, you didn't have to-" I started.

"Don't make me bag, John," She interrupted me with a pun, grinning ear to ear. I chuckled and grabbed the bag.

"Thanks, sis, you're the best!" I called out, walking past and heading towards the front door.

"You know that I am!" Yang shouted back. Today is looking to be a good day!

---

Frost Gemini POV

It was nice out today. It was warm, probably the warmest day we've had this January, and there was just a light breeze. Fluffy white clouds held back the harsh beams of sunlight just enough to keep everything bright but prevent the heat from being overwhelming. I'd chosen a white blouse and black shorts to wear today since it was so nice out, and headed out. I did my best not to think about what happened last night or what was gonna happen later, but it kept nagging at me from the corners of my mind. It was probably due to that that I didn't notice John until he snapped his fingers in front of me. I snapped out of my thoughts and looked ahead, seeing that I'd almost walked right into a building. Our routes to school crossed here on this street, so John and I started meeting up here on our way to school. Guess it's a good thing he got here first.

"-Huh? What?" I burst out. John chuckled.

"Relax, Frosty, I have things taken care of. Speaking of, how do you feel about skipping today? We don't have anything important happening, so I thought we could get a bit of a headstart on our training!" John offered excitedly. The anxiety in the back on my mind turned to curiosity and I tilted my head ever so slightly. I mean, we're used to doing PE class in the morning anyway so why not? I smiled.

"I'm down for that. Why so excited about it, though?" I asked, following John as he spun around and led the way back towards his home.

"Well, I think you're ready to actually start learning to fight!" John exclaimed, and my heart sank.

"U-um, what do you mean... really start learning?" I asked hesitantly. Training had been so difficult already that I can't even imagine what it might be like if I haven't really started yet! John noticed my horrified expression and laughed knowingly. He swung his backpack off his shoulders and into his arms in front of him, unzipping the front pocket and plunging his hand in.

"While it is true that I've been teaching you little tips and tricks along the way, most of what we've been doing has been conditioning your body so you can handle a proper training regiment. If I had started right at the basics of combat like you wanted me to, you wouldn't have had the strength, stamina, or discipline to keep it up. I guess you could consider the last two weeks an... introductory course to the main subject," John explained, pulling something out of his backpack and slinging it back around his shoulders. John handed the object to me, an ancient-looking hand-made book with a red leather cover and yellowed pages. The condition of the book was pristine despite its obvious age that it seemed obvious it was rarely picked up, and there was a small ink smudge on the bottom corner of the cover. 'Elemental Arts; Spears & Lances' was scrawled across the front in archaic golden letters, and on the back was a strange symbol that resembled a dragon. I took the book from John and flipped to a random page, coughing lightly when a cloud of dust shot out at me, and glanced across the paragraphs of handwritten text paired with detailed illustrations of a man with a spear. I looked back up at John with both excitement and confusion.

"I'm loving that I get to learn a martial art, but couldn't we learn something a bit more... modern?" I asked unsurely. John smirked.

"We will get to that. This particular art is simple but very good, and it mostly focuses on incorporating dust into your fighting style. I thought it would be a good first art for you to learn, and since there was another book for swords and daggers, I thought we could learn together! I've had little to no interaction with dust, so this could be invaluable to me," John explained heartily. I nodded in understanding, closing the book and slipping it into my backpack. We turned onto a smaller road, dotted with restaurants and coffee shops, at the end of which was the gravel road that led to John's house.

"I take it we're gonna train at your place from now on?" I asked. John nodded.

"I cleared a little area out back where it's mostly dirt and very little grass, and spray painted us a circle. Speaking of dirt though, you do have a change of clothes, right? I wouldn't want you to ruin your fine clothes," John asked with a small amount of concern, pointing at my blouse. I smirked and let out a fake gasp.

"My blouse will be ruined? How could you do such a thing!?" I accused jokingly. John grinned and played along, letting out a fake evil laugh.

"Mwuhahaha! I, the foretold Destroyer Of Blouse's, shall not spare a single blouse! The salt of your sweat shall stain it yellow! The brown of the soil and the green of the grass shall forever mar the white of the fabric!" John exclaimed, with a hand held out in front of him dramatically.

"Art thou truly so cruel? How shall I ever financially recover from this?" I cried, feigning distress. John and I both started to chuckle at our stupid bit, and I absently tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind my ear. I shrugged, becoming more serious.

"I left my workout clothes in my locker back at school, so it'll be fine. Besides, these are hardly fine clothes, John, the blouse only cost 500 Lien at Arvenes. I don't mind scrubbing a stain or two out," I said casually. What, are blouse's rich people's clothing outside the kingdoms or something? John gave me an incredulous look.

"A stain or two, Frosty? Try a stain or twenty. I'm sorry to say, but that blouse won't last long..." John trailed off apologetically. I grimaced. Well, that's 500 Lien down the drain. And this is such a cute blouse, too... The crunch of gravel underfoot alerted me that we had reached the driveway down to the Xiao Long home, which now sported a few potholes from the recent downpour. I was reminded of the first time I walked down this road hoping to hang out with John outside of school. So much seemed to have happened since then that it felt like months had passed, rather than weeks. A light gust of wind blew past, giving a bit of relief from the heat and rustling the leaves in the trees around us. A silence fell between the two of us as we walked, but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. John looked around us, seeming to enjoy the peace and quiet more than seemed appropriate. Or perhaps, he simply didn't take it for granted.

"You really don't take anything for granted, do you?" I muttered. John's gaze darted to mine, and I realized that I had voiced my thoughts aloud again. This time, though, I didn't make excuses and pressed forward out of curiosity.

"How do you do it?" I asked. John smiled bitterly, his eyes becoming distant.

"...I've experienced the alternative. Where I come from, even during our years of peace we lived under the constant threat of monsters. After living so long with that fear in the back of my mind, living on this safe little island is like a dream. Sometimes it's hard to tell if this is all real..." John stopped walking at this point, becoming lost in his musings. His expression morphed between nostalgic and pained as if experiencing a thousand memories at once. For the first time since I met John, it occurred to me that maybe his scars went deeper than the surface. I suddenly felt out of place, as if I was witnessing something personal that I had no right to be part of. But... I wanted to stay. I wanted to listen and be here for John like he was for me the night we were attacked.

"...Every time I drink clean water, every time I eat fresh food, whenever I fall asleep in a proper bed, I never take it for granted because... I'm scared that I might wake up and it will all be gone," John admitted, his voice wavering ever so slightly. John suddenly looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected himself to say that. I gave him the best smile I could muster and pinched him as hard as I could in the arm, and his expression turned to a mix of confusion and pain.

"Ouch! Frost, what the-" John started before I interrupted him.

"Good. If you feel that, then it means you aren't dreaming. You're here with me, and the least you could do is make some happy memories to replace the bad ones," I told him sincerely, trying my best to be comforting. Dear Oum, though, that was kinda cheesy. John blinked. Then he smiled and relaxed a little.

"...Thanks, Frost. I needed that. Now, I think a good old fashioned beat-down is in order!" John exclaimed, returning to his usual quirky self as quickly as he had left. I perked up with him, excited to further my training. Despite the nagging fear in the back of my mind that I was about to enter a brand new kind of hell, that is. John led me the rest of the way down the gravel path, and around the back of the house where he stopped suddenly and frowned.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. John shook his head.

"Nah, it's just weird that we didn't pass Ruby and Yang on the way here. They must've taken another way around on their way to school," John dismissed, dropping his backpack. I dropped mine beside his and followed him to the large patch of dirt in the yard. John picked up one of many wooden practice spears from the ground and tossed it to me. I caught it, and John picked up one for himself. I tilted my head curiously at him.

"I'm going to show you a few basic guards before we begin, as well as give you a brief introduction to martial arts," John explained. I opened my mouth slightly as if to say 'ah', prompting John to continue.

"This is where your path to becoming a defender of humanity truly begins. By committing yourself to learning, practicing, and mastering the art of the blade you are committing yourself to a long life of fighting. There is no turning back after this. I know your answer already, but as a courtesy, I'm going to ask you one last time. Is this the life you choose?" John asked. I nodded. He smiled.

"Discipline, restraint, and creativity. These are the three most important aspects you must learn. You must discipline yourself through years of rigorous training and study, dedicating yourself to your weapon and the protection of humanity. You must learn restraint; to perfectly control your strength and speed, and to know that violence is not always the answer. You must be creative; the spear will be your paintbrush and the battlefield will be your canvas, never limited to anyone else's standard," John spoke passionately. I hung on his every word, eager to learn everything I could. I can only hope that one day I can be as amazing as him...

"So, where do I start?" I asked enthusiastically.

"You have already learned much in the way of discipline. There wasn't a lot I had to teach you about that aspect, actually. Restraint is best learnt with opponents that are at or below your level of skill, so we will come back to that. Creativity will allow you to create your own style, forge your own weapon, and improvise mid-battle to outwit your enemy. For now, though, you are simply going to learn and practice these forms. Are you ready?" John asked. In response, I readied my spear with a confident grin.

---

When Tai woke up, the first thing he noticed was the time. WAAAAY past when he was supposed to be up by. But by now, Yang had likely taken care of everything for him. Tai felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of his daughter having to do all the morning chores again, but brushed it off when he spotted something out the window. When he poked his head inconspicuously out the door to have a look-see, he was surprised to see John and his new friend Frost fighting. No, not fighting. Sparring. The sight of kids sparring with each other was not unfamiliar to him, but the fact that it was his kid sparring with another kid, both of which were a tad young for contact sparring, that jolted him completely awake. He stepped the rest of the way outside, and since they hadn't noticed him yet, he decided not to disturb them and watch silently.

Frost moved erratically at times and deliberately at others, but all in all, she was doing incredibly well for her age. Tai cringed when she made a move that seemed wild and without purpose, but was surprised to see her feint and attempt a counter. Tai found himself wondering where she could have learned that, but upon watching John the answer became clear. Tai had always known that John wasn't a regular kid, and hearing his story second-hand from Qrow cemented it. But the sheer skill he displayed was dumbfounding. He was composed, calm, and calculating. Every action was deliberate and carefully planned, and his movements were fluid and graceful. John left a small opening, looking at Frost expectantly. It was almost as if... he left himself open on purpose to see if Frost would notice! Despite the effortlessness John fought with, he moved just slow enough for Frost to react and just fast enough to be a good challenge for her. John stepped forward towards Frost and she extended her spear, preventing him from getting within range.

"That's right Frost, don't let me get close!" John exclaimed happily. Tai raised a brow curiously. Was John tutoring her?

Frost snapped her spear forward in a thrust, changing the direction at the last moment. John didn't even bother deflecting the strike, simply sidestepping it and flicking his blade at her with unprecedented speed. To Tai's surprise, Frost was able to barely block the attack with the shaft of her spear. John dashed into her blind spot and Frost spun the spear around her waist like a propeller to keep him away, but John simply leaned out of the way and lashed out with a low kick once the attack lost its momentum. With her feet swept out from under her, Frost hit the ground hard and sputtered for a moment.

"Get up Frost!" John encouraged, moving to the opposite end of the circle to give her a chance.

"What's the point? You're obviously better than me," Frost grumbled out in a rare moment of frustration. John scoffed humourlessly.

"So what? You think I haven't fought guys tougher than me? You think I haven't been beaten so badly I wanted to lay down and die? If you want to be a Huntress you need to always get back up, no matter how many times you are knocked down! Now get up here and fight me!" John exclaimed. Frost muttered something under her breath and pulled herself to her feet, crouching down briefly to pick up her spear.

With a determined grunt, Frost fell into an unfamiliar stance and approached John slowly. He suddenly struck out, backpedalling as if he lost balance when Frost blocked the hit. Frost pressed her advantage, thrusting her spear forward with all her might. But the opening had been a feint. John suddenly weaved around the strike, dragging his sword along the pole of the spear and slapping Frost's wrist with the flat of his blade. She dropped the spear, more out of shock than pain, and a palm strike to the chest from John sent her skidding across the ground and out of the circle.

Tai had to colour himself impressed. He would expect that kind of show from first or second years at Signal, but certainly not Primary School seniors. Frost sat up with a bewildered expression, shoulders heaving as she caught her breath. Her face was red from either exertion or embarrassment, maybe both, and her entire body was covered in sweat and dirt. John chuckled and walked over to Frost, offering her his hand. Frost blew a strand of hair out of her face in annoyance and took his hand, pulling herself up onto her feet. Tai let out a low whistle, startling the two of them.

"Good show!" Tai called out. John was almost completely unperturbed by his father's sudden interruption, while Frost turned bashful and covered her face with her hands.

"Uuuugh, I totally just embarrassed myself in front of your daaad," Frost groaned.

"Not at all, you did quite well! I have to say, if I'd known you two were interested in learning to fight I could've offered to help," Tai said sheepishly. Frost's eyes widened and a look of realization washed over her face as something dawned on her. She spun on her heel, punching John in the shoulder.

"You jerk! You never told me your dad was a Huntsmen!" Frost cried, even more embarrassed to know that a full-fledged Huntsmen had just seen her getting beat up. John laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and shrinking back a little.

"W-well actually, he's...kinda...a teacher at Signa-" John was interrupted as Frost threw another playful fist at his shoulder, and Tai laughed.

"Well, my offer stands. But at least let me get some proper equipment for you kids!" Tai said excitedly, disappearing into the house. Frost, distracted from her siege against the fortress that was John, watched Tai go nervously.

"What did he mean by 'proper equipment'?" Frost asked nobody in particular. John simply stood in silence, wondering what Tai could possibly be hiding away other than the weights that John had already borrowed. When Tai returned, he was carrying a box full of what appeared to be wristwatches and John's brow furrowed in confusion.

"By the looks on your faces, you have no idea what these are, do you?" Tai asked with amusement. He chuckled when both John and Frost shook their heads.

"These are training bracelets. You secure them around your wrists and ankles, and turn them on. They're infused with Gravity dust, and the gauges will tell you what they're set to. Basically, they increase the effects of gravity on your body so that you have to work much harder to move at a regular speed," Tai explained. John's jaw dropped in amazement, and Frost felt her stomach do a barrel roll. Things were about to get even more hellish for her, weren't they? Her fears were confirmed when John rushed forward and eagerly grabbed a set for each of them.

"Since this will be your first time using them, set them to X1.2," Tai said, showing John and Frost how to set the dial. While no one was looking, John set his dial to X1.6. Tai hummed in thought, wondering if it was about time he started teaching the girls to fight. It was obvious that they wanted to go to Signal, after all. Come to think of it, where were the girls?

---

"Yang, why are we out in the forest?" Ruby asked innocently, focused on a game on her scroll.

"I'm...looking for something, and I think I might find it out here. Shouldn't be much further," Yang answered vaguely as the two sisters pressed further down the wooded trail.

---

'They're probably at school with their friends' Tai reassured himself.

After getting the bracelets strapped on, John and Frost returned to the circle and grabbed their weapons. John activated his gravity bracelet and a faint purple glow momentarily enveloped him as the dust took effect. All of a sudden, his posture sharpened dramatically and his expression became strained with effort. After a few moments, John took an experimental step forward. He nodded in silent contentment with his ability to move, musing that this wasn't too much different from being in Endor. The feeling of a huge weight pressing down on him was the same, only much more intense. Seeing that John had already adjusted, Frost activated her bracelet without bracing herself and almost immediately fell to her knees. A shrill cry of surprise escaped her lips and both men started forward to help her.

"No! I want... to do this... myself," Frost insisted as she got back to her feet, stopping John and Tai in their tracks. Once Frost had herself balanced on her feet, she took an experimental step forward as John had. Tai sat down on a tree stump to watch, just to make sure that nothing went horribly wrong.

"We should probably wait to spar until we're used to the bracelets. Come on Frost, let's practice your forms!" John encouraged. Frost looked up at him in exasperation. John smiled in response, and Frost resisted the urge to groan. Why did hard work always have to get harder?

---

When Jewel arrived at the Xiao Long Home, she was surprised to see her daughter covered in sweat and leaning back in a chair with a large bottle of water. Frost was covered in streaks of brown and green, and her clothes were so soaked with sweat that she looked like she had gone for a swim. Frost lit up when she saw her mother approaching, and rushed over to greet her.

"Mother! You're here!" Frost exclaimed with a hint of nervousness. Jewel smiled.

"Yes, dear. I see you've been practicing already, in your blouse..." Jewel noted. Frost laughed nervously.

"Y-yeah, I kinda forgot my sports bra at school... b-but don't worry, I can wash it!" Frost exclaimed. Jewel sincerely doubted that but decided to let it go for now.

"So, where is your teacher?" Jewel asked, more than a little bit curious about the man.

"He... hasn't gotten here yet, but there's another Signal teacher here until he arrives," Frost explained nervously. Jewel nodded.

"I see. Well, where is your friend John? I'd love to meet him," Jewel asked her daughter excitedly. Frost perked up.

"He's out back, come on I'll introduce you!" Frost said excitedly, leading her mother to the backyard where John and Tai were fiddling with one of the gravity bracelets on the porch. John noticed them coming before Tai did, and ran over to meet them halfway.

"This is John, mother! John, this is my mother!" Frost introduced. John smiled and waved.

"Hello Mrs. Gemini, it's nice to meet you! Tall, blonde, and handsome over there is my dad," He said. Jewel smiled back warmly.

"Hello there John. So, how long have you two been learning to fight?" Jewel asked. John answered without any hesitation.

"About a month now. Frost is getting really good, I bet the two of us could do pretty awesome at Signal!" John praised. Jewel rose a brow.

"That's good to hear. Do you mind if we have a moment to talk alone?" Jewel said. John glanced at Frost with an expression Jewel didn't quite catch, and joined his father back on the porch.

"Are you sure you're serious about this, dear? About... Signal? I don't want you to get hurt or end up on a path you don't like. You're absolutely sure?" Jewel said, still concerned about her only child.

"Yes! This is the only thing I want, mother, please let me do this!" Frost exclaimed. Jewel was surprised by the confidence and determination Frost had in her answer, but didn't let it show. Where had the shy and reserved Frost gone that she was so familiar with? Slowly, she nodded. If this was what her daughter wanted. Of course, first Frost had to prove that she was cut out for it. Jewel sighed.

"Alright, dear. I'll make you a deal. Show me that you can handle it, and I'll let you apply to Signal this Fall. If I see that you're struggling, I want you to either choose a different school or get a summer job. Okay?" Jewel said. It wasn't so much of an offer as it was a condition, and Frost knew it. She nodded.

"I'll do my best then!" Frost agreed. Jewel smiled down at her daughter.

"Go on then, I'll be watching," Jewel said. Frost jogged over to John, and after they exchanged a few words, they walked over to a large circle painted on the ground. It was about two and a half meters in diameter, and the ground was predominately dirt. Tai walked over to greet Frost's mother while the two grabbed their practice weapons and did some stretches.

"So your mother is gonna let you go to Signal if you do well?" John asked as he stretched his legs. Frost nodded while she stretched her arm.

"Yeah...John?" Frost asked suddenly, sounding a bit distraught. John stopped stretching to listen to her.

"...Will you stay with me if mother doesn't let me go?" Frost pleaded. John kept his smile, but there was a subtle change in his expression.

"Trust me, Frosty. You haven't got anything to worry about," John promised. They stretched in silence after that.

---

By the time John and Frost had finished their stretches and warm-ups, Jewel and Tai had been talking for almost twenty minutes. Over the course of their conversation, Jewel had become somewhat skeptical about whether John's uncle had really been tutoring them, but was willing to wait and see. Tai was confident that regardless of what Qrow had supposedly been teaching the kids, Jewel would be impressed. John simply wondered if there was any ice cream left in the freezer. And Frost was more nervous than she ever had been before.

Frost picked up her spear tentatively and entered the circle opposite of John. Although she had already sparred with John more times than she could count, this would be the first time her mother watched. And the first time that she needed to win. No test or exam had ever worried her as much as this looming bout did. For all Frost knew, her entire future could be riding on the outcome of this fight.

'All the more reason to do my best' Frost thought, resigning herself to focus on the spar and worry about the aftermath later.

"Combatants ready?" Tai asked loudly. John nodded, falling into his stance and holding his sword out in a basic guard. Frost fell into her newly learned stance, grasping her spear tightly and nodding.

"Begin!" Tai shouted. Surprisingly, John made the first move. He darted forward with his sword poised to strike, while Frost remained stationary and watched John carefully. He was moving a lot differently than he normally did, just a tad sluggish as if he was moving underwater. The realization hit Frost like a speeding truck, and she shot forward to parry John's strike.

'He's still using the gravity bracelets!' Frost thought incredulously.

Frost parried the attack successfully and John flawlessly transitioned into a sweeping attack that Frost had to leap away from. Without missing a beat, John turned and unleashed a flurry of jabs that normally would have been impossible for Frost to avoid. However, with his movements impeded by the gravity dust, Frost was able to deftly parry and deflect each strike. John deliberately left himself open after the failed attack, overextending his arm as he followed through. Frost had become adept at noticing the minuscule details in the middle of a fight, thanks to John's training, and saw the opening. Frost pressed forward and snapped her spear forward in a low jab - which John sidestepped - and twirled her spear to deflect his lightning-fast counter.

'How the heck is he still fighting this fast!?' Frost thought desperately, rolling under an attack that would have slammed into her collarbone. Despite her attempts to take advantage of his handicap, John seemed to be making up for it.

The two traded blows back and forth for several moments more, before John jumped back to create some distance between them. He hummed in amusement when instead of taking the moment to rest, Frost dashed forward with her spear at the ready. She fell into a stance that made John raise an eyebrow suspiciously, and attempted a maneuver that she had seen the white-cloaked man use. John weaved around each of the three strikes with no apparent effort, then feinted to the left. Frost fell for it and he lashed out with his sword, but she managed to move her spear at the last second and block his strike. Had Frost always been that fast? Frost spun around, twirling her spear as she did so, forcing John to step back out of range. Frost pivoted as John swiped at her shoulder and lunged at him with her spear, to which John responded by leaping over her strike dextrously and landing back on his feet with his blade at the ready.

John grinned childishly. Frost had never put up such a fight before, and John was enjoying the added workout from the bracelet. In just a month, Frost had grown so exponentially that John had to put in an effort. Granted, he wasn't really trying, and he had the gravity bracelet on. But regardless, Frost was definitely a prodigy and was learning the blade much faster than he ever had. John held back a snicker as Frost almost stumbled after blocking an especially fast attack on his part. Yes, she was still a far cry from battle-worthy, and a much farther cry from a Huntress. But John had no doubts that Frost would excel if she continued to put forth this kind of hard work and dedication. Frost thrust her spear at John's head, and after idly deflecting it with the pommel of his sword, he flicked his blade out at her. Frost ducked under the strike and attempted to slash at John's flank, but he casually batted her spear away and went back on the offensive.

Jewel and Tai watched from the sidelines in complete silence. Frost had mentioned that she was getting good with a spear, but this... this was something else. Before Jewel's bewildered eyes, Frost and her friend John were locked in a fierce duel, dancing around each other and at times coming dangerously close to leaving the circle. It was astonishing how much Frost seemed to enjoy the bout, despite her obvious difficulty to keep up and underlying anxiety. It wasn't obvious, but Jewel could see it in her daughter's eyes. A spark of competitive joy in her otherwise exhausted rose-pink eyes. Jewel couldn't help but admit how much Frost resembled her father just then. Come to think of it, Frost's unnatural talent for this likely came from her father as well. But that John boy... it was clear that this spar was one-sided, and Jewel could only wonder what age he'd started learning at to already be this good. It wasn't uncommon in some parts of Remnant for children to begin learning as soon as they could walk, after all.

"How long has John been learning? He's incredibly talented for his age," Jewel asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. Tai regarded her with an 'I know this sounds crazy' look.

"Since he could walk. Apparently, it was a custom in his village," Tai said, recounting what Qrow had told him while leaving out the unbelievable parts. Jewel quirked a brow curiously. While it was true that learned skills ingrained much better in the minds of children, it wasn't often that she heard of someone being trained from so young. Not that it was completely unheard of for retired Huntsmen to take on students.

"Oh, John is from outside the Kingdoms? Is he adopted then?" Jewel realized her mistake as soon as she realized Tai had referred to John's village in the past tense, but it was too late to take back her tactless question. To his credit, Tai didn't seem to mind the asking of the question so much as the answer he gave.

"Yeah. Qrow found him out in the wilderness, fighting off an Ursa all by himself. Can you believe that?" Tai said, returning his gaze to the ongoing with an expression Jewel couldn't quite read. With a feeling that was somewhere between astonished and prideful, Jewel continued watching the spar. Frost likely would not win this match, but she was putting up a hell of a fight.

Frost was beginning to tire, exhausted from an entire day of exercise. And yet, she showed no signs of slowing down or letting up her attack. She stepped forward menacingly, an overhead strike from her spear homing in on John's shoulder. John switched his sword to his other hand and leaned back, not even blinking as Frost's spear missed him by inches, and thrust with his left hand. Frost, to her credit, was able to dodge the surprise attack. Unfortunately, it left her in a haphazard backpedal with no way to recover, and a palm strike from John sent her sprawling backwards. Desperate to avoid defeat, Frost swung wildly with her spear as she fell, feeling a jolt down the pole as it connected with John's crossguard. Frost hit the ground with a resounding 'thud', barely cognizant enough to roll out of the way of another downward thrust from John.

Frost scrambled back to her feet in a slight daze, her shoulders heaving as she caught her breath. John stood opposite her and swiped his blade at her shoulder. Frost narrowly avoided the strike and retaliated with one of her own. John, to her annoyance, barely even had to move to avoid it. Frost lunged at John once more, her spear flying towards his face a bit faster than she had intended. For a moment, Frost worried that she might actually hurt John. And then in a sudden burst of speed John's blade became a blur, snaking around her spear and landing three separate hits on her chest that sent her reeling back. Frost tumbled to the ground in an uncoordinated mess of limbs, only realizing once she had regained her bearings that John's attack had knocked her out of the circle as well. A defeat on two separate accounts. Frost got back up carefully, her heart pounding in her ears and her shoulders heaving with every ragged breath. She could taste her sweat, and some of the dirt mixed in, and her hair clung messily to her neck and face. But Frost wasn't done yet. She refused to be. She rushed over and grabbed her discarded spear, before walking back into the circle.

"Again! P-please..." Frost asked, still out of breath. John gave her a look of disbelief.

"Are you sure? You've pushed yourself pretty hard today," John asked. Frost simply nodded, and John looked over to Tai. Tai shrugged and looked to Jewel. Jewel sighed and muttered 'men' under her breath, before nodding to Tai.

"Go on, dear, if you keep this up you'll be at the top of your class at Signal," Jewel encouraged. Frost did a double-take, eyes wide and mouth dropping open a bit.

"R-really?" Frost asked. Her mother smiled and nodded.

"You've shown me that you're more than capable, Frost. If this is what you want, then I'll support you," Jewel promised. Frost lit up excitedly, almost forgetting about her fatigue entirely. She jumped up excitedly, pumping her fist as soon as she landed.

"YES! Thank you so much!" Frost exclaimed happily.

"Of course, as long as you're happy. Just don't think that you can slack on your schoolwork, dear. Although, I'd still like to discuss the particulars with your tutor. Has he always had a problem with punctuality?" Jewel asked suggestively. Tai snorted, transitioning not-so-subtly into a fake cough when Jewel eyed him curiously.

"Well, congrats Frost! You really-" John started with a grin.

"Shut up and fight me!" Frost interrupted, pivoting around and pointing her spear in John's direction. Her tone conveyed slight annoyance, but her expression gave away how utterly elated she was. A huge grin stretched across her face, and her rose quartz eyes danced with excitement. John chuckled, and fell into his stance.

"Have at me then!"

---

Ryan_/ That went well I think.

Ike_/ I would have to agree. Now, for our announceme-

Fred_/ WE HAVE AN OFFICIAL DISCORD! It's called The Rosebush!

Ike_/ Bruh. I was in the middle of-

Fred_/ Just PM us for the link, fanfic's link filter is too thorough for us to put it here.

Ike_/ ...

Fred_/ ...

Ike_/ You done?

Fred_/ ...Yeah, I'm done.

Ike_/ Okay, so-

Fred/ JOOIN UUUSSSS!

*SLAP*

Fred_/ ...Ouch...

Ike_/ Ahem! So, we have an official Discord server where ya'll can hang out, discuss Infected Rose related crap, post related memes/art/misc content, and ask the three of us questions (when we're available, that is)! It was set up for us by Gizmo Gear, and he did a bang-up job by the way, so everybody give that guy some love!

Ryan_/ Indeed! And who knows, maybe one of us will get butterfingers and leak something...

Ike_/ Well, we truly hope you enjoyed the chapter! If so, make sure to show support by favouriting and follow to know as soon as another chapter comes out! If you have suggestions, criticisms, or just wanna tell us about your day, leave a review! After all, thi-

Fred_/ THIS WRITING MACHINE RUNS ON FEEDBACK!

Ike_/ -_-

---

How Fred almost screwed us

Discord, 1 hour before upload...

Fred_/ Halp! There's a problem with the link!

Gizmo_/ Fixed it.

Ike_/ you legend, you!

Gizmo_/ I try ;D

Fred_/ Oh, thank god.

Fred_/ That means we can get to the more pressing issue

Ike_/ wut

Fred_/ I accidentally deleted the chapter

Gizmo_/ ...

Ike_/ ...

Ike_/ ...you what?

Gizmo_/ He's pulling legs. He's gotta be.

Ike_/ I'm checking rk

Fred_/ I meant to hit view/edit...But I hit remove.

Gizmo_/ He isn't kidding...

Ike_/ Fred, you plastic bowl

Ike_/ you are a lucky sonuva gun, you know that? After all of Ryan's horror stories about losing chapters (and my own goofs)...

Gizmo_/ You have a backup?

Ike_/ I've been copy-pasting our progress to an open office doc, just in case

Gizmo_/ Niiiice

Fred_/ *sweating profusely* y-yeah, I totally knew that

Gizmo_/ This is going in the A/N, isn't it...

Ike_/ It is now

Fred_/ Ike no! They'll eat me alive!

Gizmo_/ Ike yes.

Ike_/ IKE YES!

Fred_/ Well, I've lived a good life.

Gizmo_/ Been nice knowing ya. *pulls out salt n pepper* Think they like garlic?

Ike_/ "meat's back on the menu boys"

Fred_/ Jokes on you, I've hardly got any meat

Gizmo_/ Ooh! Bones! My favourite! Yaknow boiling those makes em soft and easy to chew? We do that with turkey on Thanksgiving.

Fred_/ Oh god, you're making me into a gumbo?!

Ike_/ good idea, lets run with it.

Gizmo_/ Hey, that actually does sound like a good idea...

Fred_/ *gulp*

Ryan_/ Hey guys, what'd I miss?

---

Review Responses!

Gizmo Gear - Glad to hear we've continued to meet expectations! And (shameless self-plug in 3, 2, 1) y'all definitely need to join us on the Rosebush Discord! discord dot com / se8dBMU

Memetic Hazard - Glad to hear you're enjoying the story, the support of our readers means so much!

Chase15T - Once again, we sincerely thank you for your support! And don't worry, we're all real people ;). Come to think of it though, Fred struggles with captchas so he might be a bot, Ike looks like a reptilian wearing human skin, and Ryan is pretty sus so he might be an imposter...

Guest - Thank you! We will strive to continue delivering quality content :)

Guest - It wasn't supposed to go on haitus, but that's how things worked out unfortunately. We will do our best not to have another unplanned haitus in the future.