Yang woke up with a yawn. It was morning now, the sun was peeking over the distant peaks of green hills, and her belly rumbled.

She winced and sat up, yawning again and stretching her arms, feeling her back crack and pop. It had been a very long time since she had been in her Infiltrator, her human form. It felt nice, though she couldn't help but feel overly exposed. Human's had soft skin, something that would not protect them very well should they be attacked by the metal weapons they used. Maybe that was why they used their steel armour?

Wait. She was sat on armour. No. She was sat on someone.

She rubbed her eyes from her tiredness and blinked. She was sat on Jaune Arc. The boy was sleeping peacefully, eyes closed and snoring softly.

Yang cocked her head and remembered the previous day. It had been weird. It had been so long since she had had a conversation with someone, so long since she had spoken of Ruby or her mother or anything else. It was nice. It would continue to be nice because Jaune was nice and wouldn't leave her. Not like her father, not like her mother, not like Ruby. Yang wouldn't allow it.

She slumped down, content to lay on him and wait for him to wake up, when she felt something cold rub somewhere sensitive. She yelped and stood up as if she had been stabbed, realising that because of the way she had straddled him she had accidentally ended up humping his stomach. Although she wore the clothing he had given her, it only covered the upper half of her body, and she quickly took several steps away from him, face red from embarrassment.

It's okay. He was asleep. She could just forget about it and move on.

"Mhmm…" Jaune groaned, rolling onto his side. His eyes flickered open, and he nodded at her sleepily. "Morning."

"Good morning." Yang replied quietly, mortified at the prospect he'd been awake the whole time.

Jaune slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes blearily before he sighed.

"Are you really a dragon? Was the past day or so really not just a crazy dream from drugs or something?"

"Erm…No?" Yang said, unsure what was happening or what drugs were. She remembered that her father warned her about them, so they mustn't be good things, but why did Jaune seem to think he would have them if they were bad and he wasn't? At least the confusion was enough to distract her from her embarrassment.

"That's what I thought." Jaune sighed, before standing up with a groan. He stretch as well, and Yang winced at the sounds his bones made as they creaked and cracked. "I really don't think I should be sleeping in armour anymore. Are you hungry?"

"A little." Yang replied, only for her belly to rumble loudly. Jaune grinned and her face quickly reddened.

"It's a good thing I have some food." Jaune chuckled, untying a bag attached to his waist. "Not a lot of it though. I was hoping to get back to Snowmire by now."

"Snowmire?" Yang asked, happily accepting the proffered slices of meat. She waited for him to get his own and began scarfing the down. After days of fish and nothing but, they tasted delicious.

"It's a town. A settlement where lots of people leave." Jaune waved his hand in the direction of the mountains to their east. "It's in-between those mountains. Oh no! It's been days since I left! Blake and Ruby must be worried sick!"

Yang froze. She forgot he'd been in contact with Ruby. How far did their contact go?

"How do you know Ruby?" Yang demanded, unable to hide the worried tone that crept into her voice. She was terrified of meeting her little sister, of being killed by the one person she had loved and trusted the most. She would rather be eaten by a million maggots than see the hatred in Ruby's eyes once again.

"She's my friend. We've been travelling together for a while, she's one of my companions I was talking about, the one who came with me from Nördliche Burg, remember?" Jaune replied, with an honesty that put her at ease. "She doesn't know where I am, just that I came here scouting for the lair of a dragon…which was you…"

Yang tensed up again. Ruby knew where she was. She was coming to burn her with her eyes again.

"Yang…Calm down okay? It's going to be okay." Jaune told her reassuringly, hand outstretched towards her.

"Okay?! Ruby's going to kill me! I don't want to die! I don't want her to kill me!" Yang yelled back, tears welling in her eyes as her body was flooded by a tidal wave of negative emotions. She did not know where they came from or why they were so potently strong, but she did know that prospect of facing her little sister again and being butchered by her made her want to run, hide and cry…

Her mother was bleeding. Her breath was ragged and harsh. Smoke rose from the burnt, maimed scales of her armour.

"Mama? Mama what's wrong." Yang cooed, nudging her head against her mothers mouth worriedly.

"Quite your whimpering whelp!" Her mother snarled, snapping her teeth at her and making her leap back with a startled cry. "I'm dying and your bleating is not making my headache any better."

"Can I help mama? Let me help you." Yang whimpered, head lowered but eyes meeting her mother's, pleading with her to give her the answers she needed to help her.

"Help me? Go back in time and kill the girl before she ran then." Her mother growled. "Or better yet, don't reveal your true identity to some village idiot. Or how about you go back even further and don't get tricked by your father!"

"Mama?" Yang whimpered again, lowering her head to the dirt. Raven snorted in derision.

"You're a failure Yang." Her mother wheezed weakly, eyes boring into her soul as they slowly mixed crimson and amber, the different colours of her different bodies eyes. "A failure of a daughter, of a dragon. You should've killed that girl the second she ran. But you didn't and now look what's happened."

Raven's breathing slowed, became more haggard and laboured. Her eyes were burning with emotion, and it seemed like all the hatred her mother had was being directed directly at her. Then her breathing stopped. Her body was still.

"Mama! I'm sorry mama!" Yang wailed, curling up against her mother. She was still warm, and she could still feel the distant, weak rumbles of her mothers heartbeat. They were there, weak and trembling but there.

But there was nothing she could do. She didn't know what to do. She curled up closer to her mother, weeping unashamedly. If she showed her mother her love, maybe she'd have the will to live, to fight on? Some people had done that in her father's stories.

"There!" Someone yelled. Yang looked up, hoping to see someone who could help them. Instead she saw Ruby, her scythe still stained with her mother's blood. She was pointing at her, but was looking at someone else.

"Quickly Ruby! Before they escape!" Someone yelled back. If Yang had to guess she imagined it would be Summer Rose.

Ruby turned towards them. Her eyes were brimming with hate and power. Instinct compelled Yang to move, and she managed to shelter behind her mother just as a wave of silver light screamed through the air, blinding and burning and hurting.

The light faded. Ruby was still young, she couldn't keep it up for long. Yang took her opportunity. She leaped off the edge of the cliff and let her unfurled wings catch the wind, letting her glide away into a distant patch of green. It was similar to what she had seen before, of the lands outside her mother's cave, but it was blaringly different as well she felt scared. It was unknown. She was lost.

There was a fallen tree, the trunk having been upturned and fallen into the river. She sought shelter in the moist hole where it's roots had once dug deep into the dirt, where she curled up into herself and cried herself until she slept…

"Yang! Are you okay? Don't cry. It will be okay, I promise."

Yang blinked as she awoke from the memory. She was cold, shivering, and her eyes were raw from spilling so many tears. She saw Jaune. He was hugging her. She clung onto him tighter. She didn't want him to let go.

"How can it be okay? Ruby will kill me if she sees me." Yang sobbed dejectedly. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe it would all turn out okay. But how? It was far more likely that Ruby would kill her than it was she would hug her.

"How long has it been since she saw you?" Jaune asked, hand rubbing up and down her back, rubbing little circles in between her shoulder blades. She loosened up, feeling muscles untense and her sobs die down.

"I…I don't know." Yang replied honestly. "Years. More than years."

"Did you look the way you do the last time you saw here? In your human form I mean."

"N-No. Both my bodies grow up with age." Yang answered and Jaune nodded, a dazzlingly bright smile on his face.

"See? She won't recognise you, so we'll just say that you're someone I found whilst looking for the dragon." Jaune explained matter of factly. "We'll have to figure out your origin story first and get you some proper clothes though."

"That would be nice." Yang replied, face reddening as she remembered the incident she had earlier. "I feel a little exposed."

"Well it's a good thing we don't have to traipse all the way up Mira's End to get you some more clothes." Jaune said, slowly extricating himself from her arms. She reluctantly let him. "Come on, I'll take you to the shepherd and see if he has any old clothes he can lend you. Then we'll head to Snowmire."

Yang followed as he walked out of the little valley they were in. His confidence and the way he seemed to know how everything was going to go reassured her.

"What's an origin story?" Yang asked, not wanting to walk in silence with the first person she had had the opportunity to talk to in years.

Jaune stopped walking, and turned around with a massive, bright grin on his face.

"Prepare for your mind to be blown!" He declared giddily. "I have to tell you about Oswyn the Old! And Gagea the Mage! Oh and…"

He continued listing names that had no meaning to her whatsoever for another two minutes. Then he began explaining their ridiculous stories but she didn't mind, even when he kept talking about Justifier, a big sword that could supposedly cut through dragon scales easily. Yang hid her scepticism at that, just glad someone was talking to her. She was also glad it distracted her from the conflicted feelings boiling inside her at the thought of meeting Ruby again.

Though she did wonder if he noticed the large plume of dark smoke curling up into the sky.

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

Ruby was concerned.

It had been two days since Jaune had left Snowmire. He'd been headed for the lowlands to the south, which stretched on from the base of Mira's End on to the distant coast.

And they'd found a massacre. Or a battle.

The outpost was halfway down the mountain, just as Blake said it would be. The problem was the six graves and pile of rotting bodies inside the outpost itself.

"I count a dozen of them" Blake said, coughing as she emerged from what Ruby could only imagine was a hellhole. "All of them had furs and ragtag equipment, making me think they were bandits who took over the tower."

"If they're dead then how did they take it over?" Ruby asked, and Blake gestured to tattered banner floating from the top of the tower.

"If the Snowmire militia still held it then where are they? The bandits killed them but because they're bandits they didn't bury their own dead." Blake snapped, pacing back and forth in front of the tower. She seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, with the both of them underestimating just how big Mira's End was the previous evening, and they had been forced to make camp overnight in the wild, something neither of them had enjoyed.

Ruby held her hands up in surrender, not wanting to set off a seemingly irate Blake, who sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Look…I'm sorry for snapping. But Jaune's out here somewhere with bandits, dragons and who knows what else." She explained, and Ruby couldn't help but feel some pity for Blake, whose bags had worsened overnight to the point she genuinely looked half dead.

"It's fine. I'm worried about Jaune too." Ruby said before pointing to the cliff just behind the outpost. "Let's take a moment to try and scout out the terrain at the bottom of the mountain and get some fresh air. I'm guessing the smell of corpses isn't particularly pleasant."

"Yeah…" Blake sighed. "That sounds like a good idea. Next time we find the site of a murder can it maybe not be the Faunus of the group that investigates?"

"Who's saying we'll find another murder site in our future? One's enough for me." Ruby replied, making Blake smile in an oddly bitter way.

"Just the one." Blake said quietly. "If only."

Ruby was about to ask if she was okay when she saw something that made her cry out with surprise and horror.

"By the burnt sweet rolls!" She yelled, turning away from the grotesque, broken mass of bone, dried blood and fly infested guts.

"Would you look at that." Blake remarked dryly. "Another murder site. Who would've thought?"

"How can you look at that and not want to vomit?" Ruby retched, trying to hold in her breakfast as she covered her eyes and squeezed her nose shut.

"I've seen worse." Blake shrugged, before kneeling next to the body. "He's wearing Snowmire regalia."

"A guard?" Ruby asked, turning away from the body entirely and sucking in the air in the desperate hope of ridding the corpse's fetid smell from her nostrils.

"Looks like it." Blake paused, but Ruby could hear her move. "There's another at the bottom of the cliff."

"That's not good is it?" Ruby groaned. "Blake, what if the bandits who did this have Jaune?"

"If there is one thing I know about bandits, it's that we better hope that isn't the case." Blake replied grimly. "Especially ones bold enough to attack an outpost not far from town. Come on. There's nothing else for us to find here."

"What about tracks?" Ruby asked and Blake shrugged. "If you want to look for them then be my guest. As it is, finding the shepherd is our best bet for finding Jaune rather than a wild goose chase through the woods."

Ruby sighed, and prepared to close her eyes for the brief moment she would see the body as she turned around to follow Blake as she headed back to the road. Then she saw something in the corner of her eye. Something not good.

"Blake? I think I know where the shepherd is."

Blake turned around with a sceptical brow raised, then it turned to one of worry as she saw the large, dark plume of smoke Ruby was pointing at.

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

"I don't like this Renny. Those guys are weird."

"It'll be fine HERETIC." Ren replied to the girl with flaming orange hair and worried teal eyes. "The Inquisition isn't something we should be afraid of. They help hunt dragons and heretics and keep us safe."

"You sound exactly like them." HERETIC scoffed, folding her arms over her chest and pouting. "Since when were you a die hard stick in the mud Inquisitor?"

"Since they saved us, gave us lodgings and food and an education." Ren retorted calmly. "If it wasn't for the Inquisition we'd be street rats. We owe them our lives and more HERETIC."

"That doesn't sound like you." HERETIC accused, eyes narrowed and face contorted into a full blown frown. For some reason, HERETIC'S anger made Ren feel ill at ease. "That sounds like the that hoity toity Grand Inquisitor. What happened to you Ren? Don't you want a life outside the Inquisition? A…A life with me?"

Ren wanted to say yes. He truly did. But he steadied his resolve and remained loyal to his teachings, to his new family in the Inquisition. Part of him was…attracted by the prospect of a life outside of the decorum and rules, but he knew that without the Inquisition the world would fall apart, overwhelmed by evil and sin and heresy. The Inquisition had invested a lot into him, and he would not let them down.

He fought. He managed to suppress the treacherous part of himself and steeled his resolve as he met HERETIC'S pleading, sad eyes.

"The Inquisition is my life HERETIC." Ren told her, feeling a distant twinge of pain and guilt as she shook her head and her eyes watered with tears. He suppressed those emotions brutally. "Why don't you come with me to the Grand Inquisitor's seminar? Perhaps his words will convince you that the Inquisition isn't as bad as you think it is."

"I don't know you anymore, do I?" HERETIC sobbed sadly. "You're not Ren. Not my Ren. Not anymore."

Those words were a sledgehammer to the gut. His weaker, more emotional self practically shuddered at the sound of those words coming from HERETIC'S mouth. Weaker Ren became unbalanced, wobbling on a tightrope. The stronger, steadfast Ren took the chance and crushed him, pushing him over the edge.

"I'm Lie Ren." He told the HERETIC. "Not HERETIC junior. I make my own decisions. If you won't respect that then I don't want to see you anymore."

He walked away from her. This time he felt nothing, no pain or remorse or guilt, as he heard her sob behind him. Lie Ren the weakling boy had died. Lie Ren the Inquisitor, the man who would protect others from the fate he and his village had suffered, had been born.

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

He was near his prey. He could sense it. Feel it.

He had caught up to them days ago and had wanted to confront them immediately. However, Mistral would now be at war with Atlas, and he did not know whether Snowmire's inhabitants were aware of the war or not. Instead, he had laid low, watching them from a distance.

He had witnessed their fight against the Faunus. Curious, as Tyrian Callows was wanted for the murder of an entire village's worth of people in Mistral alone. Then he'd seen them split up, and he had followed his target as he made his way down the mountain. It had been the site of the tower massacre that had stalled him, as unwanted memories tried forcing themselves to the forefront of his mind, as voices of people who had no meaning to him echoed through his head and giving him a headache.

None of them mattered. He was an Inquisitor. A hunter. A warrior of justice and order.

A murder. A traitor. A failure.

He ignored the taunts and focused on his prey. He had been forced to stop tailing his primary target after spotting the bandits watching him. He would not allow them to harm his prey. That was his job.

Unfortunately their camp was too big for him to take down alone, so he had slowly watched and waited, striking in the night when the fools were drunk and tempers high. They weren't surprised to find bodies in the morning, and he made sure he never killed too many to arouse suspicion. At the very least they would be neutered.

Well that was what he had thought. A large band of the bandits had left hours earlier, and if the smoking rising in the distance was any indication then they had been successful in their hunt. He didn't care. He waited for them to return so he could assess their strength and numbers. Once they no longer posed a threat to his target, he would move on and complete his true mission.

So that meant he had nothing to do but think. To remember. To try not to remember. To fail.

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

"This will be your final test." The Grand Inquisitor intoned, voice flat and calm and authoritative. But Ren could hear the pride in his voice, subtle but present and all of it just for him. "Is your resolve as hard as steel?"

"For the Goddess my resolve is strong."

"Is your sword arm unburdened at the prospect of killing in Her name?"

"For the Goddess my sword will swing and Her enemies will fall."

"Is your mind clear of conscience?"

"For the Goddess I will show no mercy to those who have wronged Her."

"Then stand as an equal Inquisitor." The Grand Inquisitor smiled. "And prepare yourself for your first mission."

Ren did so, feeling his heart swell as he heard other Inquisitors, line upon line of them on either of his side, rose with him, hands slamming into chests.

"For the Goddess I will do anything." Ren replied honestly, and the Grand Inquisitor cocked his head inquisitively.

"We shall see Inquisitor." He said. "We shall see. Your first mission is not easy, but it is necessary. You are to silence a pair of heretics we caught breaking into the Custos Bibliothecae. They are in the prison block now."

"As She commands." Ren said determinedly, bowing his head. "I will relish ending those who would defile the great library."

"Are you so sure?" The Grand Inquisitor asked curiously. "I have not told you their names yet."

"With all due respect, Grand Inquisitor I do not need to know their names." Ren replied honestly. "They are heretics who attempted defilement of our sacred library. I care not for their names, only for the suffering they will endure once they are in the Trickster's embrace."

"Very well Inquisitor." The Grand Inquisitor said, pointing to the door at end of the chapel. "Go and do your duty."

He did.

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

He shook his head. He needed to focus. To stay awake. But that was hard to do when there was nothing to do. Normally he would have been watching the bandits go about their business, bemused at how they put so much value in their material possessions when the Goddess provided for all in the afterlife. So long you followed her teachings of course.

Her teachings. The word of the Goddess. That should distract him.

It's not too late…

He frowned.

You know he's innocent!

He shook his head.

He isn't a believer but he isn't a heretic. You know this! You have to remember Renny!

His head throbbed, like it had been split in two by a hammer.

Please Ren! It's not too late…It's not too late…

His ears heard nothing but a dull, droning whine. The world spun and he felt dizzy. The pain did not fade.

It's not too late…I miss you…It's not too late…Come home…It's not too late…Renny!...Ren!...

He breathed. He exhaled. He calmed. The headache faded. The echoing did too. He wiped away the tears building in his eyes and used a cloth to clear the blood trickling from his nose.

He was fine. He was happy. He was content. He was an Inquisitor. A guardian of the world and a warrior of the Goddess.

But who was he? What was his name?

That was irrelevant. He was an Inquisitor. A guardian. A warrior. He was happy. He was content.

He was guilty. He was a murderer. He was lost.

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

The prison block was cold, damp and miserable. Ren did not care. He would not be there long, and such a miserable place was a suitable dwelling for those who wronged the Inquisition and rejected Her word.

"Inquisitor." The guard sat the small desk at the end of the tunnel greeted. He was going to say something else, only to be cut off by a distant scream.

"I'm here for the pair who were caught breaking into the Custos Bibliothecae." Ren explained and the guard raised a brow curiously. "I've been sent to deal with them."

"Ah." The guard replied, flicking through the book in front of him. "They're in Block A, Cell 14. Down there to the right then straight forwards."

"Thank you." Ren said politely, and he set off following the guard's directions, only to stop when the guard called to him.

"You'll need these." The guard called, throwing a a set of keys at him. "Use the big one to open the cell. And if it's not too much to ask, can you not leave too much of a mess? We're the ones who have to clean up afterall."

"I'll try my best." Ren replied, inclining his head. "Thanks again."

The guard waved and Ren left, following the dark, damp tunnels until he reached Block A, marked by the big letter above the thick steel gate. He fiddled with the keys before finding the right one and entering the Block, a long corridor with cells on either side. They were defined by the numbers above their iron bars, and Ren ignored the wretched figures dwelling within and marching forwards until he was outside Cell 14.

He unlocked the door, and he could hear the inhabitants perk up. He did not care. He entered the cell and shut it behind him.

"What's going-" Asked one of the inmates, only to be silenced by Ren slicing his knife across his throat.

"Ren!"

His body froze. He stared at the other inhabitant, who's eyes were familiar and filled with horror. HERETIC. No! She had a name!

Nora! It was Nora!

"Nora…" Ren gasped, head pounding. He felt dizzy and sick and nauseous and shocked and giddy at the fact he was seeing her again. "You…are…Nora…"

"Ren? What…Why?" She stammered, fixated on the corpse bleeding at his feet and the bloodied knife in his hand.

"Orders…have…to…you…heretic?" Ren replied, blinking. He was confused. His head hurt. His memories were becoming drowned and his mind drowsy again.

"Heretic? I…I don't think so. We tried breaking into that big library to try to dig up dirt on the Inquisition." Nora replied, eyeing him with a mix of caution and worry. "Ren, are you okay? You look pale."

"I…" His hands were shaking. The grip on his knife loosened. "I don't know."

"Ren…" She made to take a step towards him, hand outstretched, only for her eyes to glance at the corpse and she retreated slightly. "I…That's it! We're getting you out of here!"

"W-What?" Ren asked perplexedly. He was confused. He could remember Kuro…Kuro…his home? No. His home was with the Inquisition.

"Hell yeah!" N…Noah? No that was a boy's name, replied determinedly, teal eyes burning with an almost zealous fervour. "I knew I shouldn't have left you last time. This time you're coming with me."

"But…" Ren trailed off. He was confused. He wanted to leave, didn't he? No. He couldn't leave. Wouldn't. The Inquisition was his home, his family, his future.

"It's okay Ren. Come home with me." She smiled sadly. "It's not too late for you to come back from all of this. Please? I miss you."

He stared into her eyes. No. It wasn't a her. It wasn't anything. It was something worse than anything. It was a heretic. And heretic's could not be redeemed, could not be saved from their own sin. There was one fate for heretics, one fate for heresy.

Death.

He tightened his grip on his knife. His resolve steeled. It held out its hand.

He was looking into its eyes, trying to deceive him by appearing human, taking the shape of someone he had loved. But Ren could see the malice, the deceit behind the thin, fake layer of hope it tried to display, trying to trick him.

Its eyes widened when he struck. It's fake facade faded as it realised it could not trick him. The heretic gasp, knife digging into its heart. Tears welled up, it grasped at him and spoken in a last ditch attempt to sway him.

"R-Ren…"

"I am not Ren. I am Lie Ren, an Inquisitor." He told it, watching the light fade from its eyes. "And I will not be deceived."

/#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/ /#/

He was sweating. He was screaming, trying to break free. No. There was nothing to break free from. He needed his resolve, to be steadfast.

He stood. He needed to finish his mission before he let his weak mind betray him and allow him to be tempted by lies and false memories.

He tightened his sword against his hip and headed towards the smoke. His false memories reminded him that Jaune Arc was innocent, naïve. He could easily be swayed. As a child, he had wanted to be a knight, a guardian. He would head to the smoke if he was nearby.

So the Inquisitor went there too.

A/N: (Custos Bibliothecae means Guardian's Library in Latin)