Notice:

There will be no updates from 13th – 19th June inclusive of both days. I'm away at an expo and stuck going out with clients pretty much every night. Going to be exhausted, overworked and drunk or hungover whenever I'm not. I'll be back 20th June to write as normal.

Also, my dog threw up in my bed this morning. While I was asleep in it. Lovely.

Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 19

Jaune grunted and braced his feet into the dirt. He placed his shoulder against the back of the shield and pushed into the person swinging the axe at him. The solid chunk of it striking against the shield echoed in his ears and sent vibrations racing down his arm and shoulder. Luckily, the angle was bad, and the weapon didn't splinter his shield, though if it had he might have been able to wrench it out the hand of the wielder anyway. Instead, he waited for the brief moment of withdrawal, the point at which the person would draw their weapon back for the next, tired swing. That moment, he'd learned through his short experience in battle, was when the opponent let up their push. When they lost the momentum.

The moment he felt it, Jaune shoved with all his strength, kicking back and slamming the flat of his roundshield forward. The sound of wood with iron cap striking chainmail was like someone slipping in a forge. He pinned the shield to their raised elbow, knocking their weapon high and swinging his own around from the right. His father's sword struck the man in his side, earning a grunt and a rattle of mail but not much else for his efforts. He gained far more from lunging forward again with his left arm and smacking the fighter in the chest and face with the flat of his shield. The raised, iron semi-sphere in the centre hit like a club and sent them staggering back.

Jaune was exhausted – everyone was after what had proven to be a far harsher round than the first. The farmer's boys and plucky village folk were out, leaving only trained men-at-arms, mercenaries and bandits left. Those that knew how to fight. No longer could everyone pick on the weakest and play it safe. Now, it was mercenary against mercenary, knight against knight, and the fights dragged on for it. If you attacked someone, you left your back open, which meant each engagement was as much posturing and positioning as combat, and they didn't end quickly.

His current opponent wore the heraldic green and black of Vale beneath a coat of mail, an iron nasal helm and wielded an axe and smaller, metal shield. He was good, Jaune was forced to admit. Better than he was. Though the last engagement had gone his way, the previous three or four hadn't. If it weren't for Roland's armour and the occasional assistance from Taiyang, he'd have been out of this long ago.

"I can be of assistance here…"

"Shut up." His whisper couldn't be heard over the sounds of melee, the cheering audience or their own harsh breathing. Jaune twirled his sword to loosen his aching wrist and rolled his shoulders. His foe took the opportunity to do the same, and to wipe some sweat from under his helmet. Jaune wished he could, but the padded linen he wore under metal left him swelteringly hot and unable to do anything about it.

Better that than a caved in skull, he thought. Roland's armour is saving my life.

"Wall!" Qrow shouted. "Now!"

Now of all times. Jaune groaned, every inch of his body protesting, but he fell back and locked his shield into the wall with a clack of wood on wood.

"Push!"

One step. Two. One step. Two. Jaune counted in his head, keeping pace as they marched doggedly into their apparently disarrayed opponents. Taiyang and Qrow must have done a lot more he hadn't seen, because it sure as hell wasn't his opponent who had left the opening. Jaune's barked orders and tried to call a shieldwall of his own, but it was much too late. The Branwen tribe marched through the middle of them, forcing them to break ranks and scatter rather than face the wall.

At that point, it was over.

"Left! Hold! Taiyang, with me right!"

Jaune turned his shield left along with the other three remaining, the four of them maintaining a wall facing the five enemies to their left while Taiyang and Qrow charged the two to the right. The two of them were more than capable of winning their fights on even odds, something their opponents knew as they charged back at the wall to try and break through. Swords and axes swung in, but it was the singular mace Jaune kept his eyes, and his shield, on. He'd felt the bite of swords today and marvelled at how little they hurt. Axes ached more, leaving nasty welts through his mail, but maces? To hell with those. His left leg still felt numb from the one hit he'd taken.

Luckily, or perhaps more skill than luck, Taiyang and Qrow dealt with their enemies and came rushing back. At that point the shieldwall broke and charged. Or the others did. Jaune made to follow but slowed to a halt, panting with his hands on his knees. He wasn't needed and couldn't have put up much more of a fight anyway. Equipment aside, skill aside, the Branwen tribe were just fitter than he. The life of a hunter had left him fitter than most, agile and capable of impressive stealth and tracking, but these men were used to fighting for an hour or more at a time in a battleline. It was endurance where they stripped ahead of him, and it hadn't showed so thoroughly as it did now.

A bugle sounded to announce the end of the round not soon after, and Jaune yanked his helmet off and slid his linen under helm back. His hair fell loose, wet with sweat and unbearably itchy. He wasn't the only one pulling armour off either. Among the winners were three more knights, a company of plate-armoured mercenaries with a formation of shields, halberds and spears, and four members of the White Fang. There had been twelve of them at the start of this round. Unfortunately, even if people entered as a group, it was possible for only a few of them to get through unscathed. Those four looked battered and bruised, eight of their own down, but they could at least partner up with whatever White Fang made it through the other rounds.

He couldn't believe they still had their six. Or he could, but he couldn't believe he was still among them. Taiyang, Qrow and the others obviously knew what they were doing, and they'd somehow managed to pull it off with his weight dragging them down. Jaune sheathed his sword and watched tiredly as orderlies hurried on to attend to the wounded. There was blood spilled, but no limbs cut free or anyone dying as far as he could tell. They were all too well armoured for that now. The bigger risk was someone catching a concussion or a blunt-force trauma to the head and dying that way. There was a reason he wore padded linen under his steel helm, uncomfortable as it may have been.

"Good fight." Qrow said. "Here. Drink."

Jaune caught the animal-skin flask and opened it quickly, tipped it back and drank. The hot, burning sensation instantly forced him to drop back down and hack for air.

"It's not water." Qrow said cheekily. And needlessly.

"I-I can tell!"

"Nothing like a stiff drink after a fight." Qrow looked far more relaxed than Jaune, though even he had drawn off his helmet to let his hair breathe. He was flushed red and sweaty, but there was a manic quality to his red eyes. "Well, nothing other than a stiff fuck. Don't tell Taiyang I said that though. He doesn't want you corrupted. Not with Ruby within arm's reach anyway."

Jaune squawked. "I wouldn't-"

"Joking. Joking." Qrow laughed and stole his flask back. "You're so wound up, you'd snap if a woman touched you. Lighten up. Today is a day for celebration. We've made it into the city."

They had-? Jaune looked around with no small confusion. He noticed the priests upon a raised platform who acted as announcers. He couldn't hear them over his own panting and the ringing in his ears. What he did notice was that there were more well-dressed people today. Nobles? No, they looked more like merchants. Fancy, but not afraid to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the peasants, farmers and other spectators.

"They're here to get a lead on the betting," Qrow explained. "Fierce gambling goes on in the final rounds and seeing us fight early gives them a head start on the nobles."

"Then we've qualified?"

"We have." Qrow said.

"I thought there was more. You said there were ten rounds."

"Ten rounds total." he corrected. "Twenty winners from ten rounds cuts the numbers down from a thousand to two hundred. Then there were two rounds of a hundred. That's what this was. There'll be another after that we don't have to take part in. Twenty from ours, twenty from theirs, and it's those forty that enter the city to compete for the glory of the nobles." He laughed. "Fuck me, imagine us having to fight through ten rounds of this. Our arms would drop off."

He'd feared as much, but he hadn't dared say anything. Given the Relic was here, he expected a lot more people to join – though it had been a thousand men. Then there were as many women in their tournament. Two thousand combatants, well, that was a small army, wasn't it? He couldn't exactly say it was a low turnout.

And we've made it into the last forty. Forty out of one thousand. That's mad.

Given that a hundred or even two would have been hopeless village folk with a dream, it didn't mean a lot. The Branwen tribe had dealt with men-at-arms and mercenaries now as well. "What's next? Is it another grand melee?"

"A smaller, more intimate one. Forty enter, eight leave. Then it's one-on-one's. Four matches – four winners go through, then another two matches to determine the finalists. There's good money for first through fifth."

Good money. He could use that, even if the real prize was the relic. He just didn't see the odds of him being able to win it in all honesty. Before, he'd believed it a chance, but now after experiencing battle and seeing how long the tribe could go on for, he was sure he couldn't hold up to them. They were another breed of warrior than he.

"Victory could be yours if you let me help."

Jaune refused to answer. He hooked his helmet under his arm and walked out the fenced arena with the others. Ruby met him on the way, first coming in for a hug and then actually catching scent of him. Her face twisted up cutely.

"I stink. I know. I want to throw myself in a river."

"I saw a barrel of water over by the wall." Ruby pointed, steadfastly remaining out of reach and even squirming back when Taiyang reached for a hug. "Ew. No. You're smelly."

"That's the smell of victory."

"Then you can take your victory elsewhere," Ruby said while holding her nose. She pointed with her other hand, as good as dismissing them to leave and wash. "I'm going to watch the next round."

The tribe likely wouldn't be washing anytime soon. They'd retire for beer and food and whoring like they usually did. Jaune had to admire the fact the men and women selling themselves around camp could ignore such a stench, for he sure couldn't. He didn't much fancy watching the fight either. Sure, it might have been a good idea to see the competition in action, but it wasn't as though he was good enough to take advantage of anything. Best he could do was try his hardest and stick to the shieldwall.

It wasn't hard to find the barrels Ruby had mentioned. One or two people were already washing themselves, utterly uncaring for anyone who might see. He wasn't so used to the cavalier attitude showed, so he kept his clothing on and dunked his head into the water instead. He held it under until he needed to breathe, drew out for a breath of air and then repeated the process, this time running his fingers through his hair and over his scalp to wash himself off.

It wasn't until he pulled his head out, dripping and gasping for air, that he realised someone was watching. Someone he hadn't seen since before the winter, and who had apparently, and somehow, remembered a pointless little village boy.

"Hello!" the redheaded huntress, Pyrrha, greeted him with a wide smile. "Jaune, wasn't it?"

/-/

"Are you sure it's okay for me to be in here?"

"If you're with me, yes." Pyrrha smiled brightly as she led him through the gates and into the city of Vale, the capital city of the realm and a place he'd only ever heard about in stories from travelling merchants. What immediately struck him, aside from the size of it all, was how much of the construction was stone and brick. Back home, houses were predominantly wood because of its availability and cost, but here it seemed like most every building was brick or stone for the first level, with wooden construction making up second or third floors. "The city is only closed because of the sheer amount of people who come for the tournament. It's to avoid the streets being crowded with… um…"

"Rough sorts?"

"I'm not implying."

"It's fine. I'm not actually with them."

"I had wondered," she said, looking back over one shoulder. The huntress looked just as he recalled her, which made sense given it had only been a couple of months. "Going from your village to competing here is a bit of a jump – even more so to reach the final melee."

"I'm mostly chipping in with others."

"I saw. Your teamwork is impressive. Are they local to your village?"

"No. Not at all. They're…" He struggled to find the right answer. "My father used to be a mercenary. I'm helping them because of that." A truth, combined with a half-truth. "Once this is over, I'll be leaving again."

"Back to Ansel?"

"No. I'm not… well… You saw how they treated me there, right?"

Pyrrha's smile disappeared. "Is it still as bad as it was? I assumed it would get better once Cinder assured them you were free of any taint. You even helped us. Don't tell me they're still suggesting you're somehow cursed."

"They're superstitious."

And he'd plainly used aura to defeat a pair of Grimm. It was good to know they hadn't heard from Ansel yet – not that he expected they would. The first instincts of the village would be to plant grain in spring, not to travel, and since the Chosen had come to check for those with the talent in Autumn, he doubted they'd be dropping by anytime soon. It was safe for now.

"That's a shame." Pyrrha said. "Have you considered staying here a while? Vale is very open and there's always work to be found. The Eternity Queen doesn't enforce any rules on who can hunt where and what, so a hunter can make decent coin."

If it weren't for what he was, he might have taken the offer. "I want to travel a little further," he said. "Away from the rumours."

"Are you sure I can't change your mind?"

Confusion swept through him, making him turn to look at Pyrrha, and her look away. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I misspoke. We can eat here." Pyrrha gestured to a nearby inn. "You must be starving after that fight."

He certainly was and the food wafting out the door smelled delicious. It reminded him of how, despite his hunting for meat, he hadn't had a proper meal since early winter. Pyrrha caught his mouth watering and drew him in with a light, tinkling laugh. It wasn't until she let go of his arm that he realised she'd touched him at all. Can she not sense Ozpin? Is it because I'm not using my aura? Pyrrha didn't notice his concern and most other patrons were too distracted by her to pay attention to him.

"Two beers please, good sir," she told the barkeep. When he poured them, she brought out some coin only for the man to back up and shake his head.

"I'd not charge one of the Chosen for sustenance in my home."

"Are you certain? I can pay."

"The Goddess' protection is payment enough. You and your man may eat for free. I'll bring out fresh roast for you both."

Pyrrha let her hand fall, took her flagon and carried it to a small table for two in the corner. Jaune sat opposite, taking a quick sip. It was weak compared to what was drank in the Branwen tribe. He'd started developing a tolerance to that despite his best efforts and this tasted like honey-flavoured water by comparison.

"Do Chosen get everything for free?" he asked.

"Not everything," she said. "Just some things."

"Must be nice to be so respected."

"It's not as great as it sounds. The respect, I accept, but forcing me to take advantage of people." The woman sighed and tore her eyes away from the barkeep. "They're working for a living, as am I. I don't like taking things without paying for them."

"Leave some coin after then."

Her lips curled up. "I plan to. How are you finding the world outside your village so far?"

"Bigger than I thought. Colder, too."

"It's just been winter, silly, of course it's cold."

Jaune smiled at her laughter, relaxing a little despite the fact he was talking to a Huntress. Had she known what he was, she'd have acted on it already, so he was probably safe. "I hope it gets warmer then. I'm a little surprised you recognised me actually. I'm just some guy from a village you happened to visit."

Pyrrha's cheeks took on a reddish hue and she took a quick drink before answering. "Ansel was the last village of the year we visited, and I haven't been to another since winter started. In a way, you're the last village person I interacted with, which is why you stuck in my mind." Her eyes widened briefly. "Why I recognised you, I mean. Besides, our last meeting wasn't such a forgettable thing, was it? It's not everyday you come face to face with a Grimm and live to tell the tale."

"Did I ever thank you for saving me from that?"

"I'm sure you did."

"Thank you anyway. If I didn't."

Her smile was sparkling. "You're welcome. Helping people is part of why I became a Huntress in the first place. My parents were merchants in Mistral, and it was there I was found with the Goddess' Gift – her grace. Aura. I was brought to Vale's Church for training."

"How was it?"

"Hard," she admitted. "And lonely at first, until I made friends among the other initiates. I'd say it was worth it, though. I can do a lot more now as a Huntress than I ever could as a merchant."

"Hunting Grimm?"

"Not just that. We're sent out to keep the peace, resolve disputes that could lead to violence and officiate over big court cases. It's a lot of work," she said with a light laugh. They were interrupted by the food arriving, rich meats covered in gravy with boiled and steamed vegetables. "Thank you," Pyrrha said, slipping a coin to the serving girl. "For yo-"

"I could nae take from a Chosen," the girl said quickly. "Please, go with the Goddess' grace."

"They really love you here."

"It's Vale." Pyrrha shrugged lightly. "The city hasn't seen harm nor Grimm for hundreds of years because of the Eternity Queen and the Church. I know there are a lot of towns and villages who respect us less. They say we focus too much on the cities and leave them to the Grimm. Truth is, there are so few of us…"

"Is that why you're recruiting so much now?"

"We always recruit from among the villages." Pyrrha trailed off. "But yes, we have been doing more of late. I can't really say why."

He could guess. Pyrrha and Cinder hadn't come to Ansel just to recruit; they'd been there to check the cave, an old haunt for the Dark Lord, and see if he was there. They were looking for him, and every year they didn't find him was one where they were starting to panic. I wonder if they're building their numbers in preparation for a war with the Dark Lord. A war with him. Well, they didn't need to. He wasn't going to harm anyone.

"It's getting so bad that the Huntress Superiors are pushing for us to refill the ranks by other means," Pyrrha said. She sounded panicked, or bothered, and brushed a lock of red hair from her face. "I can't believe the things they're saying."

"What kinds of things?"

"N-Nothing you need know, Jaune," she stammered. "Unless…"

"Unless?"

"No." Her green eyes glanced aside. "Forgive me, it's a private matter among the Church and somewhat embarrassing. It takes time to train a Huntress, many years, and as others grow older and retire, everyone is always focused on the next generation. Children of Huntresses are particularly prized."

Children like Ruby. He recalled Winter talking of her vast potential – that must have been because she was the daughter of an active Huntress. Maybe a woman pregnant while having her aura unlocked caused more to be born in the baby. It was while he was thinking that, of birth, that he recalled what Taiyang had said about the Church, and that he gathered what it was Pyrrha was being so evasive about. They want her to have children. He coughed lightly on his beer as he realised it. His own cheeks burned dark red, and he picked at his meal, hiding his embarrassment in taking a few quick bites.

Yeah, that'd be one way to increase the number of active Huntresses in the next generation but talk about intruding on things they shouldn't. No wonder Pyrrha is upset. I'd be pretty bothered if mom and dad were pressuring me to find someone and have children too.

At least then it would be family, though, and not some entity like the Church. That was like your boss demanding you had a baby so he could hire it in the future. It was just too strange to think about.

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked her.

"Ignore it," she said quickly. "They can only ask and imply. They cannot force me."

"And until then, it's more visiting villages?"

"More of that," she said with a little sigh. "Recruitment is a low-level task, and I haven't been a Huntress for long. It's a good way to teach valuable skills and get us some experience dealing with people, or so the superiors say. I won't be going until after the tournament, though," she said happily. "A big event like this is something we all have time off to see, so I can come cheer for you in the final rounds."

"Huntresses can't compete, can they?"

"We had our own tournament," she said quietly. Pyrrha winked. "It wasn't public or official because we're supposed to be better than that, but there really isn't much to do over the winter months."

Jaune chuckled. "I won't tell anyone. Did you do well?"

"I made it to the top twelve. Cinder knocked me out of it." She shrugged, obviously not too bothered by the loss. "Cinder won the whole thing. The winner gets to challenge a Superior."

"For the position?"

"No!" Pyrrha giggled. "It's just for the experience. Superiors are on another level and it's not every day you get a chance to test yourself against one. Cinder chose to face off against one called Winter."

The one from Moss Creek. Small world. Jaune hummed. "How did she do?"

"Winter beat her effortlessly."

"Wow. Those Superiors must be incredible."

"They are."

"I wish I could see the fight. You'd think they'd show it at the festival. I know it wouldn't be fair for the prizes and all, but you could have some spars as entertainment between the rounds."

"The Church has a duty – and that duty is not to entertain. Thinking such brings arrogance and egotism, and those are the enemies of our Goddess." The way she said it made him think she was reciting something she'd been told, and not with any real faith in it. "That's what we were told the last time someone asked. And then we were all made to read scriptures for three hours as punishment. No one has dared ask since."

"Sounds like a strict place."

"It is, but then a little discipline is fair when you have the Goddess' power. Otherwise, you might have ended up with Huntresses who would abuse it."

"As if there are not already…"

Jaune paused on hearing the voice. He hadn't though the Dark Lord would say anything now of all times, in front of a Huntress, and it surprised him. More than that, the Dark Lord's words practically forced his next question. "Are there any who do?"

Pyrrha looked bothered. "That's not… There are always those who break the rules in any organisation. We do our best to make sure they're brought to justice. The Church is, or tries to be, as good as it can be."

As far as they'd known in Ansel, the Church was infallible, but then they'd lived so far away that Pyrrha and Cinder were the first Huntresses he'd ever seen. Odd that they're recruiting now but didn't bother at any point in the last ten years. I wonder if it is me they're after, or if they're growing their numbers for another reason. Either way, he could tell he was making her uncomfortable, so he changed the subject.

"Got any advice for me in the upcoming rounds?"

Her eyes shot up. "Advice?"

"I'm pretty far out my depth in case you haven't noticed. The equipment I'm borrowing has gotten me this far, but I don't see it getting me much further. I thought as a super-strong Huntress, you might have some tips and tricks."

Pyrrha looked at him for the longest time. Time enough for Jaune to wonder if he'd said something wrong, crossed a line or fallen afoul of some social mistake related to Huntresses and Chosen. He was about to tell her she didn't have to when she suddenly smiled bright enough to freeze him to the spot.

"Okay. We can spar."

Next Chapter: 5th June

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