Hey all! This is a shorter chapter than the previous ones, only about 3000 words - but it's a connector that leads to the second phase of the arc, so stay tuned regardless.

Also, I wrote the scenes on the train while I myself was on the train. Whoa.

(Please tell me if there were mistakes, too, I can be quite bad at catching them)

"-and then your dad told us that it was actually the second part of the test all along! We were shocked, obviously, and it was honestly a little annoying that they just kinda threw us into a life-or-death situation without informing us... but then, as it turns out, even though I didn't really know what I was doing, I impressed the teachers enough that I got this!"

With a proud, beaming smile, Ashen tapped on her uniform - similar to the one she wore as a student of Lantern Academy, but now with golden stripes over her sleeves which signified her commissioned Ranger rank. Her belt was now thickly outfitted with pouches and cases - a Ranger was required to carry a lot more on hand than an ordinary student, everything from their documents and specialized handcuffs to restrain Aura users, to pen and paper for notes. "I'm still thinking how to individualise mine, though. Probably... nothing extreme. I wanna attach a flower carving here, a darker one. A belladonna would be nice. But, I dunno... a poisonous flower might give the wrong idea." After a brief sigh, Ashen leaned back. "Didn't get a squad commander rank, though. Reza did. Guess I needed to study for something after all..."

Firre, casually resting his hand on the side of his chair, took a sip from his coffee mug. "As long as you passed your exam, it's fine. If you really want to rank up, then you can always try for a promotion later."

They were, once again, in the Seven Ravens - in the afternoon this time, so the cafe was busier than usual, but they managed to find a table for two. To Firre's surprise, in spite of the scuffle they had over it the last time they came here, that "No Faunus Allowed" sign was not put back up by the staff. Perhaps, as unlikely as it was, they have started to learn from their mistakes?

"You think I can do it?" Ashen asked.

"I was certain you'd pass, and I'm certain you could do that, too."

"...Wait, you were?"

Firre nonchalantly sipped again. "I mean, we've been patrolling Vale for what, six months now? And I got to see all three of you in action during that time, every week, stopping whatever - criminals, Grimm, slave hunters, you name it. Even if you don't have the book smarts, you've consistently been the first to step up and jump forth whenever we needed it. Father and the high command of the Ranger Corps have always valued that kind of initiative."

"I... thanks..." Ashen mumbled out in response, her voice a bit sheepish. Firre had stayed tight-lipped about what he thought of their performance in their patrols and missions together, and being suddenly complimented was not what she expected. "Is that what you thought of me from the beginning, too? What, was that why you decided to offer me to "fight bad guys together" out of random?"

Now, it was Ashen's turn to take a casual sip and stare at her friend, awaiting an answer. Firre stopped for a second, considering how best to formulate this. His mind went back six months ago. After recommendation from his father, Lantern Academy had finally accepted him as a combat tutor, working with Colonel Perun - the first few weeks were uneasy, it took a while before the bearded soldier could accept that a homeschooled prince, no matter how supposedly talented, would be of any help in teaching. That's when he had first come across Reza, Yche, and especially Ashen.

"Well, yeah... and it was a bit of a gamble, too. But it worked out."

"Hey, stop that... Frankly, when you first came up to me and asked, I thought you were coming onto me," Ashen answered and laughed - whereas Firre merely raised his eyebrow, completely unamused. "But hey, I suppose you guessed... moderately well. Especially when I asked Reza and Yche to tag along - then it actually kinda worked out, I think."

"...sure, "kinda"." He could tell that, taken aback by the compliment, Ashen was trying to act as humble as she could. After a brief pause, she finally opened her mouth again:

"Aaaand, any news on the, uh, investigation?"

"Well, I think I managed to pull out a trail from the House of Trade. I confronted Velinn Flare about it, and after denying it, he eventually surrendered and said he'd order an audit that would investigate how his company's weapons ended up at the hands of slave hunting rings - and he'll invite me to visit once it finishes."

Ashen sipped her coffee. "Think he's being genuine?" Firre leaned back, briefly turning his eyes to the decorated ceiling, and then answered:

"Frankly, he seems suspicious. He had no explanation for buying weapons off the black market, at all - that, in of itself, is hard to square with him just being an innocent businessman getting caught in the crossfire." Ashen, meanwhile, placed her cup on its plate on the table, and, with a suddenly even more serious tone, said:

"Might be a trap." Her statement got Firre to turn his eyes back towards his friend. "I mean, that's a strategy as old as time, I've seen it. When you made a deal with someone and didn't go through with it, and that person is in your place roasting you for it, you start promising him that you'll get them the money, or the goods, in a week, and ask them to meet at a place. Then you bring your goons there on that day and..." She smacked a clenched fist into her palm, as if to picture what takes place next.

"Right..." Firre tapped on his chin. It'd be the boldest, most insane move for Velinn Flare to take, but he did consider the possibility, if he had to be honest. If Velinn did plan to attack him, then that would be why he wanted their second meeting to take place in Sumire, in the Frontier. While watching her friend lose himself in thought - as he seemed to often do - Ashen continued:

"You should probably bring a troop with you when you're going there. I don't know, maybe some Rangers-"

"I'm going there alone." Firre suddenly declared with a raised voice that instantly took Ashen aback.

"What? Why?!"

"I... well, you see..." he briefly stammered. "If Velinn is planning to capture me, or even kill me, then whatever force or tools he brings to match will be too dangerous for anyone that is tagging along with me. I'd rather not put their life at risk."

"Wh- Your life will be at risk!"

"I can handle it."

The sheer bluntness of the response got Ashen to stare at Firre, dumbfounded, holding onto the edge of the coffee table - soon, however, her brain put two and two together, she sighed, slumped to her chair and said:

"So you're that confident you can win against whatever they throw at you, all alone..."

It was Firre's turn to turn his eyes to the side, with a faint, sheepish smile. "I mean... I'm sorry that I am making you worried, but, well, if for some Gods knows what reason the world decided to award me with some strength, I want to put it to use in order to keep as many people out of harm as I can."

Ashen sighed again. "Well... then I hope we won't have to hear news about you getting kidnapped when we're stationed in our camp."

"Oh, you're getting deployed already?"

"Apparently, yes? Seems that the Ranger high command doesn't plan to wait. A whole bunch of us are going to be stationed in the Frontier for the time being. Yche and Reza will be there, too."

In the Frontier... Firre's eyes turned to the pitch-black coffee, resting in his mug, staring at the slowly swirling liquid. Straight to the meat grinder...? No, no. There won't be a meat grinder. We'll... find a way to avoid war. I'm sure of it.

At least, until we are out of there...

"I will need complete media silence on this. And once the news that the Prince has vanished breaks out, I want the media to connect it straight to Mantle. At most, it simply took place at my company without my knowledge, and I was not involved in this operation at all. Understood?"

The woman on the other side of the receiver was, thankfully, recipient to Velinn's deal. So, after a nod and a faint smile to himself, the businessman added to the large device's microphone:

"We'll discuss my end of the bargain once I come back from this shithole."

Then, he removed his finger off the button, leaned back in his seat, and took a glance through the narrow, reinforced window of the train cabin. There wasn't much to see - just another tunnel, this time the one connecting Vale and Sumire, one of its largest outposts in the eastern Frontier. Over a decade of Mantlean and Mistralian expansion had consumed and engulfed many of the smaller Valean settlements in the region, but Sumire stood strong to this day, its population booming thanks to industry feeding off nearby Dust mines. His Dust mines.

Mines built with Mantlean expertise and Mistralian labour, so, both of the kingdoms have had a claim on Sumire since - and a slow trickle of settlers from these two have begun to raise tensions even in Vale's primary stronghold in the Frontier. Already, there were occasional outbreaks of violence, and it seemed bound to get worse - but, as long as the Sumire Mines were operating, and employing workers from all three kingdoms, they each had too much to lose to escalate the fight.

Really, even though the King and his brainless advisors will never understand it, this is why people like me are important. All these peace talks, and treaties, and threats will never stop a war, only getting together for business will make it so there's too much for all sides to lose...

Now that he was thinking of business, Velinn remembered that he had a second call to make. So, he dialed in another number - this one took longer to connect, thanks to the distance between his train car and Mistral's city of Suchan, but, eventually, a middle-aged, masculine voice spoke up in his large metallic headphones. Velinn briefly looked around, just to check whether anyone had entered the train carriage when he wasn't looking. He had reserved the whole car to himself, but you would never know when a train attendant or a janitor might barge in and interrupt him at the worst possible moment.

"Commander Sima...? Yes, it is me, Velinn, I will make this quick. Yes, this is about my debt, and thank you, the workers you brought have been of great use in the mines, even though their mortality leaves a bit more to be desired. I will make this quick. Would you like to have the Prince of Vale as a hostage?"

The voice on the other side paused for a few seconds, surprised by the offer. Velinn's finger, pressing on the "receive" button, faintly trembled. Silence was hardly ever comforting, especially over a distance call - it was impossible to tell whether he had just made a horrific mistake or whether the person on the other side was simply taken aback by the proposal.

Eventually, the conversation resumed.

"No, I am serious. He has been getting on my nerves - and the nerves of the Mantle Export Corporation, too - so we've been developing a plan to remove him from the equation. Tellavel Forgisto has already been informed about this plan, and he told me he'll pull on his contacts in the Mantlean Army to help. ... Yeah. Once he's in your hands, you can do whatever you want with him. The King loves his son, so you might be able to trade his life for the entire Frontier. Maybe even more."

Ah... the joy of making a deal. Velinn drew a large puff from his cigar.

"I need someone to deal with the prince on the ground, and Mantle is not going to provide that. None of the guards I have will be of any use, though I have some ideas. That's what I need you for. I need an Invulnerable. The strongest you have at hand."

Pause.

"...Yeah?"

Pause.

"One will do. I can guarantee that one enemy soldier can slip through the border and enter our territory, but any further and it gets complicated. Firre arrives next week. I don't have time for that."

Pause.

"...He'll do."

With her back against the cold wall of the train storage cart, Silva was playing another melody on her pungi, a different, slightly faster tune which she had wrote down a few days prior. Crates, packages, piles of tools surrounded her from every other side - supplies for the settlement which the attendants threw to the back of the train and then subsequently forgot. For the first half of the journey, Silva couldn't focus, always glancing off to the doors leading to the rest of the train, constantly worried that they will slide open, and a group of angry, armed humans will storm out to kill her.

That never happened.

Of course, that didn't mean that Silva's worries were over. This melody was... even worse than before. Gods, it's disgusting.

Something wasn't right. It felt confused, uncertain. It couldn't commit. It was a pale copy of what she had envisioned in her mind, could never live up to what she wanted it to be. After forcing herself through several chords, Silva finally pulled her instrument away from her lips.

"Damn it..." she whispered to herself. Her hand pulled up the note sheet next to her - shrouded in the darkness of the unlit cart, but easily legible to her.

Maybe changing this part would work... With a pencil, she crossed over the middle, then briefly lingered over the paper, considering what to write.

Nothing came to her mind. Nothing she would be fine with, anyway. It was all in disarray.

How long do I have until the train arrives, anyway?

Her Mistress gave her another mission - in Silva's mind, this was her last chance to prove her worth or be deemed worthless for good, be damned, thrown out into the streets and eaten by the Grimm. Especially as the mission given to her was even more important than the last.

Silva's eyes shifted to the side. She could feel the train buckling and slowing down. The storage car had no windows or any other way to see where they were at, so she had to trust the sensation to inform her when it was time to leave. The train attendants were obviously not coming down here and tell her that they've arrived.

Apparently, Mistress Glaesa was contacted by a businessman - one of those disgusting monsters whom Silva couldn't imagine talking to with a straight face - about something going down in the Frontier. Something, which she took personal interest in. Prince Firre will be there, and some sort of confrontation in Sumire was likely.

The prince...

Immediately, unwanted memories of the last time she had ridden a train flooded back to her. Silva violently shook her head to toss them aside.

Just pretending. Just pretending. Just acting. And when he dies, you won't have to worry about him anyway.

Instead, she put her focus back on the mission. The train had, by then, almost stopped - so, the Faunus girl swept up her pungi, stood up, and crawled up a nearby ladder. A hatch leading to the car's roof was above it - with a punch, she snapped it open and leapt up. Just as expected, the train had already departed from the tunnel and was trekking towards the outskirts of Sumire. Tall mountains, the same ones which separated Vale from much of its continent and gave it refuge from the Grimm hordes, unfolded next to the settlement, each one now extensively drilled for valuable resources. From a passing glance, the town almost appeared quaint, peaceful, calm - yet anyone who was well acquainted with the settlement's life, its position, its recent history, would tell you that it was anything but.

Silva stood on the train roof, freezing wind rushing past her short hair and hardened leather jacket as she observed Sumire.

Her mission begins now - to start a war.