Okay, today was a wash. Was called out multiple times to try and help my mom's friend's horse give birth (was struggling last night as well) and it all went wrong. After hours and hours of trying to realign the foal's legs the correct way. It came out but didn't survive, and the mare died as well. The vet says there was nothing that could have been done beyond what we did, but it still feels so draining to spend almost six hours there today, and a few yesterday, for this result.

Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 18

The first thing Jaune noticed about the camp Adam and Blake led him to was that all the people there were faunus – and that there were a lot of them. Men and women, some young teenagers as well, congregated away from most of the other tents with several large campfires and racks set up to store weapons and armour. Bright eyes watched him as he entered and continued to track his progress toward the centre of the tented area. It reminded him of the Branwen tribe in a way, with rings of tents around a central, larger one. It was that larger tent that Adam led him to, speaking quickly to the two faunus outside. One nodded and entered to inform their leader while the other stood guard.

"Are you sure this is a good time?" Jaune asked. "It's late."

"Faunus prefer night-time." Blake said.

"They – you – do?"

"You've never met any?"

"I came from a very small village. Only about a hundred people."

"You're not a part of the Branwen tribe then?" Adam asked, curious. "I thought you were a little too peaceful for them, but I didn't realise. Did they… ah… visit your village?"

"No. I left and… well, the tribe is a temporary stopping point. I'm planning to move on."

They left it at that. It was obvious they knew who and what the Branwen tribe were, but they didn't seem all that bothered. Were they bandits as well? They were armed well enough to be, but then so was everyone else at this tournament. He wondered if there was any good way to broach the question without coming across offensive. In the end, he realised it didn't really matter. Vale didn't seem to care who showed up for this.

Which was odd now that he thought about it. The tournament itself was fine and made sense – people were always miserable after winter, and then there was even more work in spring. Ansel had a festival to mark the end of it too, with drinking, dancing and lots of food. Vale, as a city, had gone for something bigger to motivate its subjects. It wasn't the fact the tournament existed however, but the fact it was open to so many people, even those you wouldn't normally want coming around like bandits and mercenaries.

They all want the Relic and the money it represents. It's understandable they'd be here, but why open it to them? Wouldn't it be better to keep all the wealth in the city?

Or did they just not care? He couldn't exactly call it reckless or arrogant when the Church and the Eternity Queen had successfully controlled the realm for thousands of years. Who was he to argue with results? The faunus came back out before he could think further and said, "Sienna is ready for you."

The tent was well-lit with small candles arranged on the edges atop wooden dressers set up with maps, small chests and other personal belongings. A curtain had been hung up in one edge to form a private sleeping area, while the centre of the tent had been decked with rugs and cushions, atop which, cross-legged, sat a woman with dark skin and bright yellow eyes. Her orange and black ears twitched atop her black hair, and unless it was a trick of the light flickering on her bare arms, he would swear there were stripes on her skin as well. Tattoos? No one in Ansel had one, the process being intricate and dangerous from what he'd heard. Dangerous if you didn't have a professional that was, and obviously no one in a countryside village would be that.

"Sienna." Adam said calmly. He nodded his head. "This is the one I spoke of before."

"Of the Branwen tribe."

"Yes. We found him being accosted by a noble his group defeated earlier."

"Trouble?"

"Baron Winchester's son retreated without much issue."

"He would." The woman, Sienna, snorted and patted the cushions with one hand. Blake knelt with her knees to the floor, while Adam took a cross-legged posture much like Sienna. Jaune did his best to mimic it. "Those pompous idiots enter things like this and expect breeding and equipment to carry them through. As if that'll help them against those used to fighting. It's best to stay in the camps," she said, this time to him. "Nobles aren't the only ones who get pissy when their shot at winning is taken away."

"I'll keep that in mind. This is my first tournament."

"Ours here as well." Sienna said. "We compete in Mistral every year, we've even won one, but this is the first time we've ever travelled to take a shot at a Relic."

"You're from Mistral then?"

It explained the sitting posture, the subtle differences in the tents and also the way they talked. The interior of the tent walls were festooned with patterns depicting scenes, unlike the plain ones in the Branwen tribe.

"The White Fang have existed in Mistral ever since we were exiled from Menagerie."

"I'm not familiar with any of that."

Sienna's brow rose. "Really?"

"He's local." Blake said. "Backwater."

"You don't say." Sienna rolled her eyes. "Menagerie was – is – the ancestral home of the faunus. It was for thousands of years. Unfortunately, it was overrun by Grimm some three hundred years ago. The faunus living there were forced to abandon the island and seek shelter in the kingdoms."

"I'm sorry for that. Can't the Church help?"

"They tried to reclaim the island twenty years after its fall, and then again a hundred later, but were forced back both times. The Grimm have multiplied in the ocean making the voyage over close to impossible. Huntresses can't do much when they're attacked from below and drowning before they get a chance to fight. There hasn't been a war to reclaim Menagerie since, and given the cost of lives, I doubt there will be again." Sienna adjusted her posture and said, "That's where the White Fang come into it."

It wasn't hard to guess what they wanted. "You want to reclaim Menagerie."

"We do." Her smile was feral. "Many faunus have given up and settled – we don't fault that. Those of us that want to keep trying, however, formed the White Fang. At first, a movement. Now, a mercenary company."

"Our founders realised we'd have to fight once we reached the island." Adam said. "Being a mercenary company ensures we'd be equipped, trained and hopefully prosperous enough to manage it."

That made sense. Mercenary companies tended to have bad reputations – not as bad as bandits, obviously. They were law-abiding for the most part, but he'd heard stories of how they would get drunk and rowdy, start fights or inspire young men to join their ranks and leave their families for gold and glory. They also tended to impress young women and leave them gifts that wouldn't be apparent until nine months later. All of those made a mercenary company a blight on any small town or village. Vale was probably a little too large to worry about a few people running off with them, however.

"Reclaiming Menagerie would ensure their loyalty…"

Jaune winced. The voice had been so clear in that moment, as clear as spring water, and he didn't like what it implied. I don't want their loyalty. I won't want to manipulate anyone. I certainly don't need an army if that's what you're implying.

The Dark Lord stayed silent.

"I want to forge an agreement with the Raven." Sienna said, either not noticing his expression or thinking it for some other reason. "Adam tells me you might be able to speak to her on my behalf."

"I've already spoken to the men in their side of the competition." Jaune said. Qrow ultimately decided what happened there and had Raven's faith. "We've agreed to ignore Adam's and the other White Fang groups if you do the same for us. We'll fight properly in the one-on-one stages."

"Good, but not enough."

Jaune frowned. "What more do you want?"

"The Relic."

He shook his head. "That'll never happen." He hoped that didn't come across too combative, but he didn't want to waste their time. Or his. "The Relic is the main reason we're here. Raven wants to sell it."

"And we would buy it," she said, "so I don't see why we can't work together. Specifically, we need one question by it. We have gold, quite a lot of gold, but less than what a duke or count would offer. I can pay the difference in pushing the Branwen tribe closer to winning it. All for a single question."

It sounded like a good deal, but the kind he couldn't make. It would depend so much on how much gold they could offer and how much Raven could get elsewhere. He had no idea the value of a single question on the Relic, but for him it would be priceless. He wouldn't give up his one for anything.

"I can talk to Raven. Just the one question?"

"Just the one."

"It's a way back to Menagerie, isn't it?"

"if there is a safe path through the Grimm, the Relic will be able to give it to us. From there, we can take back the island and our home."

He couldn't fault their motives, and he couldn't argue with their hopes the Relic would be the best way. It couldn't tell the future from what he understood, but if they asked it something related to Menagerie they would know if it was even worth trying this generation. If the Relic answered that there was no safe passage to Menagerie then they would know not to throw their lives away. It wasn't a bad goal at all, but he had his own to think about. Raven might not be happy with the idea of him having a wish, Sienna getting the second and leaving only one to sell.

"You only get the wish if you win." Ozma pointed out, which was both true and very cognisant of the Dark Lord again. He was normally more spacey and confused in his ramblings. He had a point, though. The chances of actually beating Taiyang, Qrow or any skilled man in one-on-one combat was slim, and he couldn't exactly draw on aura if this was going to be in front of an audience. "Like them, I could offer an alliance."

"No."

"No?" Sienna asked unhappily. "Do you take issue with us?"

"No – sorry, I meant to something else." Damn Ozma whispering in his head. This wasn't the first time he'd spoken directly to Jaune, but it might have been the first he'd ever offered a deal. A literal deal with the devil. "I meant that I can't agree to anything. I'm just fighting for them; I'm not important enough to decide anything for the others. I'll talk to Raven and ask if she'd be willing to meet you. That's all I can promise."

"Then that is all we ask. A good night to you."

/-/

He talked to Qrow in the end, and Qrow agreed to take the idea to Raven when she was awake. "I'll probably need to speak with them myself," he said. "Raven won't agree to anything without knowing the value of what she'll get back. I'll see if I can't hash out a deal. Other problem is knowing if they're good enough to really help us win."

That wouldn't happen anytime soon thanks to the next set of women's rounds that began before lunch. Raven wasn't fighting – their round having been the day before – but Sienna was, and she had Blake and a bunch of other mercenaries with her. They fought well as far as he could tell, getting through their round with ease, but it was up to Raven to decide if they were impressive enough to form a closer alliance with. The fact that they came from Mistral put a lot more into context; it explained both why they didn't mind the Branwen being bandits, and also why they didn't try to ally with any of the local mercenary groups. The White Fang didn't have the connections outside Mistral.

They won Mistral's tournament once, though. That has to count for something.

Sadly, it didn't. These tournaments were every single year, and probably in every kingdom at once. There might be one going on in Mistral right now. The difference was that this had the Relic, which probably meant Mistral's tournament was lacking its best competitors. Atlas and Vacuo's too. The best of the best had come here, which really put the Branwen tribe's odds in perspective.

The White Fang's too. He wasn't sure they really had much of a chance.

"Desperation may lead to extreme measures…"

You again. Jaune scowled. Thankfully, Ruby was too busy cheering on the competition to notice, and no one else was paying him any attention. His first instinct was to ignore Ozma as always, but what he'd said was worrying. Are you saying they might do something risky to get the Relic?

"Those driven by lofty goals will oft do anything to achieve them."

Like what, though? Making agreements wasn't against the rules. Surely they wouldn't try and steal the Relic. Even Raven wasn't prepared to risk that against the Church and the might of the Chosen. This was Vale, not some helpless village with a small militia. The Branwen tribe wouldn't stand a chance, and neither would the White Fang. One didn't cheat the Chosen.

"One need not steal from the huntresses if one can steal from another victor."

That… was a good point. More than that, it was a point that could apply to just about anyone. If nobles were prepared to pay knights to compete on their behalf, would they pay thieves to steal the Relic from the winner too? What was to stop a mercenary company like the White Fang, or any other, from attacking the winner once they were away from Vale and taking the Relic by force? Nothing. Did the Chosen not care? This was an affront to the Eternity Queen.

The Dark Lord's presence faded with mad laughter that descended to whimpers at the last. Like a flaming brand chasing away the dark, the Eternity Queen's title had chased him into the depths of Jaune's mind.

Sorry for the shortness but it's 7pm and I have so many household chores I need to do because I've been out on a farm all day. Sucks to lose the foal and mother. These things happen no matter how much you might wish otherwise, but you don't ever really get used to them. Maybe you do if you raise livestock or cattle, but I've only ever grown up around horses and dogs, so nothing like livestock.

So tired from today. Just physically and emotionally lol. I want a hot bath, a drink and some sleep.

Next Chapter: 29th May

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