CHAPTER 7 - Living
January 17th, 797 E.A
City of Argus, Kingdom of Mistral Territory
On clear summer nights, the three of them would climb up on top of the house's roof and sit, breathing in the night air, as her mother would tell her tales about each star in the sky - Yang could still remember the little ritual she Dad and Summer had back in the day.
The sky always fascinated her because, from the youngest age, Yang knew she could never touch the stars or reach them.
Neon signs, traffic lights - as the urban life hid the sky from her in a blue glow, Yang couldn't see the stars here, even if she had spent her evenings on the rooftop of the so-called Sunspot Hotel - the name still puzzled Yang.
Then again, everything she had learned did - every new bit of information he had acquired about her mother would leave her bewildered.
The day - when Raven appeared by her window - now seemed so far in the past, even though it had been barely a few weeks.
Monomyth, Loops, Cycles, Vættir Asagrimmr, Silver Eyes - even now, Yang still struggled to process all that her mother dumped on her in mere seconds.
To convince her to leave with her through the portal, Raven had told her five things, all connecting to a single concept.
Her mother told her that the being calling itself Professor Ozpin had been responsible for what had happened to Summer Rose. Summer, like Ruby, had a rare genetic trait called Silver Eyes. This power, dating back to the age of Once Upon a Time, was a necessary step in Ozpin's goal that he had attempted for centuries. Summer had perished trying to do something for him. The choice was Summer's, but she was not aware of the consequences of failure, or success, for that matter. Raven wouldn't share too many details, but she did promise to tell her the whole story if she had come with her.
The idea of a kind and serene professor clashed with the vivid image of an ageless manipulator painted by her mother.
How would a being that lived for centuries or even, maybe, thousands of years act? What wisdom would he hold?
"What I am talking about is the patterns, Yang. Even before the hypocrite became the being in the tower, he was obsessed with discovering how things work. Can you imagine someone like that living forever? An ageless creature observing all of humanity for centuries?"
According to her mother, Ozpin had observed humanity for centuries and realized that human nature was not unpredictable - patterns, loops, and specific symbols would repeat - order existed within chaos.
A young girl, cloak embracing her, as she gripped a scythe, death following in her wake.
The wicked witch - tempting from shadows as she wore masks for her face.
A heroine - facing a tribulation as the clock strikes midnight.
Pride and monsters it creates through the instinct of self-destruction.
A champion - rising among the common folk - the heroes that fall and the sacrifice they make.
A wise sage - giving his advice as he guided the heroes.
According to Raven, Remnant ran on repeating patterns - that was how fairytales and myths could be born and resonate with so many people.
For Ozpin, this was merely a byproduct of his age - an eternal being using his centuries of experience to shift civilization and people in whichever way he wanted.
Raven didn't share that view. From what Yang could tell world like this sounded terrifying to her mother.
As strange and outright ludicrous it would have been to do it - once Yang had looked at the world through the lens of fairytales she'd read Ruby, patterns were there.
Even in Remnant's culture, Ozpin had a hand in meaning would loop - the tradition after the Great War to name children after colors, the age-old tradition to name cities and locations after the tales of the age Once Upon. The Fables, the many legends and fairytales people love and re-purpose into stories.
If Raven was correct, then Ozpin had built himself a world surrounded and obsessed with the very concepts that reign it. And he had centuries, likely thousands of years, to hone the idea and manipulate human nature.
But Ozpin wasn't just some ancient sage out of fairytales who had become really good at his job. What did it mean for free will that this land housed a being old as time who could freely manipulate the fates of those living here?
And not just fates - Ozpin's ideas didn't stop with predictions and human nature but delved into far deeper concepts that governed this reality.
Those ideas, theories, and rules were lost in the eons that had followed the Great Calamity.
The Monomyth.
Yang took a deeper breath, the night air filling her lungs, to clear her head.
Every evening now, she would find herself on the rooftop of the Sunspot Hotel. She would sit down right between the generator and the water tower.
While she couldn't see the stars, the city below would drift away, allowing her to breathe easier.
She had been here a week now - every day following a strict schedule - breakfast, relentless training in the basement gym, and whatever chores she would need to do that day.
Raven still eluded her, coming and going without Yang noticing. But Yang wasn't here for just her mother anymore.
When the time comes, her mother will show herself - last time it had taken years, so, hopefully, this time, it would be faster.
Or, if she were to finish her training before that happens, she would be happy to get her mother to tell her everything for once.
Yang chuckled to herself - with a strict regime and getting tasks from people who say way too little, part of her felt like she was back at Beacon now.
Of course, the rest of her was sure - nothing was the same.
She had to get used to getting around with just one arm, but that wasn't the worst part - the hardship came from the inside.
That moment when she woke up, splitting headache scorching her brain - the realization as she instinctively moved her arms.
The surreal sensation hit her when she did, and something was missing in her field of view despite the pain she could feel.
The look on Ruby's face the first time she visited her and what Yang had said to her.
The escalation with her each visit, anger slowly boiling over - the moment when Yang let go of her restraints.
The memories of that moment would still rush back in - the words Yang had ended up saying to Ruby back then echoed in her head.
"You always act like you are superior, and then me and Dad have to clean up your mess. When will you get it into your head that you are no different from anybody else? I chased after you to Beacon to protect you, and yet I am the irresponsible party girl? Instead of living my life, I dedicated it to protecting your fantasies, and now I am worthless, Ruby! Do you think it is fair? Will your heroism and fairytales fix my life? Will your dreams and hopes and positivity give me my arm back? While your head's up in the clouds, the rest of us have to deal with the real world where, sometimes, people are just awful. You can dream about heroes or unicorns, for all I care, but I have to greet every day the reminder of all the tragedies and betrayals awaiting me whenever I look in the mirror. Don't ever bother me again, Ruby."
She couldn't stop back then - Yang never realized how much frustration and anger she had held back over the years.
"The fact that everything around you is in ruins, and yet you still are clinging to that naivety, refusing to see things for what they are, disgusts me."
She did not mean all of it, but her screams carried her feelings nonetheless. The fact that the first honest conversation she had with her sister - filled with furry and bitterness - haunted her.
Yang could see the words she said reflected on Ruby's face.
She loved her sister with all her heart, and yet every interaction between them had become some twisted game of venting her frustrations at her.
Was that so different from how she had lived all this time? Yang got into fights with children at Patch, and then she scoured Vale for trouble, searching for her mother.
Even her fighting style had been built around payback - taking damage and lashing out furiously to overwhelm the opponent.
When did she become this way?
Yang scoffed - it was only natural - as much as Yang attempted to fill the void Summer left, she could never - because she wasn't Summer Rose.
Summer Rose was just someone who took care of her - Yang had no reason to turn out the same way as her.
Yang leaned back, her head pressing against the cold, rusty metal surface - the water tower.
She missed the days she had called Summer "mom" - neither Dad nor Uncle Qrow had told her who Raven was - she found out it the hard way.
Did it happen as some idiot she'd have picked a fight with called her a bastard? Did she overhear Qrow or Dad talk about it? Did she stumble upon some vague note or document revealing it to her?
She couldn't even remember when or how she had found out Raven was her mother.
Ironic - for Yang, that likely was the moment she used as the anchor for her whole personality.
It had thrown her childhood memories into disarray, making her question every interaction - not just between her and Summer, but between Qrow and Dad, too - what went on behind the closed doors, Yang oblivious to all?
Somewhere along the way, after she found out the truth, Yang started to use Raven as an excuse for her issues - a justification for her actions.
Yang loved to imagine that Raven was some bandit, wasting away her life in the wilds, or maybe already dead - just an inconsequential loser whose choices ruined Yang's life, and, eventually, after a grand journey, Yang would realize that everything would be okay for her.
She could imagine Raven, gruff and disheveled - maybe drunk like Uncle Qrow - procrastinating aimlessly. She would turn her head - groggy - and see Yang standing in the doorway. Yang would scoff, turn around, and leave her behind. And Yang would be free and happy.
Of course, you weren't an aimless ball of rage, Yang - you were searching for meaning! On a grand quest to find your missing mother, who you were sure was this awful deadbeat responsible for everything horrible that had happened to you and for every single negative emotion you had! You totally hadn't made a bunch of choices you ended up regretting while feeling aimless, no, no, not at all!
Yang smiled - self-deprecating thoughts persisted.
Entertaining fantasies like that felt better than accepting the simple fact that Yang knew nothing about her - that she was afraid to learn who Raven had been. She chased after the woman whose face she had forgotten and could thrash nightclubs and bars, but part of her knew that wouldn't lead her anywhere.
Even after Mercury, when Qrow had offered to lead her to her mother, she hesitated and never took him up on his offer.
Instead, she marinated at home, outbursts against Ruby and Dad and all - it wasn't just the trauma and the horrors in her mind that had kept her shackled there.
It took Raven sweeping into her room through the window to get anywhere closer to her mother and to realize that she never knew this woman.
Yang gripped herself tighter as if hugging from the cold encroached upon her.
Was she that incapable of making her own decisions, changing her life - just a sidekick in everyone else's story?
Even now, part of her still chased after her sister, having arrived here out of concern for what Raven had claimed awaited her.
But it was not just about Ruby now.
The terror of what happened to her lingered, no matter how much she wanted to escape.
The helplessness, the aimlessness, the fear, the apathy - she wished to leave those things behind, rebuild herself anew into someone she could be proud of.
She wanted to be someone worthy of her family - as their equal.
She never wanted to feel the way she did when that blade sliced through her arm, stopping her in her tracks and derailing her from her path.
And to do that, she first had to fight through what had befallen her.
She stretched out her arm toward the stars she couldn't see - just like the aimless path she had been walking.
Yang bolted back on her feet.
Enough with self-pity, Yang.
Tomorrow - another sparring session with Clair to get through - Yang wasn't sure how much this would help her, and every time, all Yang's attacks would crash fruitlessly against the same wall in front.
In a week she had been training, the most she had managed to do was to not end up on the floor in a few hits.
There was no way this would stop her, though - she wasn't content with standing still.
One step at a time, no matter how long it would take, she would overcome whatever lay ahead.
She'll get better. She could do this, she could do this, she could do this.
January 18th, 797 E.A
Somewhere.
She hated losing control as her plans fell apart around her. Well, they hadn't yet, but she already felt like she had approached an immovable roadblock.
Cinder Fall paced back and forth as if trying to burn a hole through the floor.
For five years now, this singular desire burned inside as her fuel, and she had given everything she could to mold herself into a weapon of retribution, proudly wearing the outfit she had made for herself - intricate patterns of dust weaved into it, dancing at her fingertips - a mantle of power, a statement.
The moment she had taken upon herself the name of Cinder Fall, she vowed - never again would others trample her, no matter how much blood she had to shed.
How dare some ageless abomination who wasn't even human tell her what to do or not to do - Cinder's blood, sweat, and effort had achieved everything they had now, after all.
How dare Salem deny her the one request she needed? How dare she - patronizing tone and all - ask her to calm down?
Cinder stared at the table - glasses, vintage wine, bowls with various fruit and vegetables, a freaking pork steak of all things - a sight she could have only dreamed of tasting all those years ago when she worked to prepare it for others.
Now, she could get this with a snap of her fingers.
That patronizing old hag.
Cinder grabbed an apple, willing what was inside to do her bidding - as warmth overcame her hand, she gritted her teeth.
The apple burst into flames - a result of a terrifying power she had now acquired - another mantle - this one invisible.
She focused her gaze on the burning apple, and within mere seconds, the heat subsided, the ashy carcass now frozen solid to absolute zero, steam coming off its surface as the intense cold met the warm humidity in the room.
Cinder had attained real power now - no tools needed, no fancy outfits necessary to make others bend to her will - she had a taste of it before when she only had the half, but the things she had struggled with back then now came naturally to her as breathing.
The idiotic usurper in the tower called what she became a Maiden, but, as always, that was just another lie - Ozpin loved obfuscating truths with a well-woven tale.
He had sold one to the idiot redhead after all - Salem had told Cinder what he likely said to her.
Cinder danced, the apple smoking in her hand, as she mocked the fool.
"Once upon a time, four innocent little gals got lost in a dark forest. Crying and whimpering, they wandered. But, oooh, the gentle, wise old mage lived all alone here! The four had shown him kindness and company, helping him till the fields. He was so touched, and girls didn't know he was most generous - a patron saint, you see!"
Lost in a coping mechanism she had developed years ago when she was locked up in the cellar all alone for the night, Cinder spun, kicking the chairs, splitting them in half as they morphed into the faces of her enemies.
"So touched by the benevolence and heroism of the four young women that he answered with kindness in return! A gift! Free of charge! And then the girls ventured into the wilds - they spread love, kindness, and rainbows and lived happily ever after."
She stopped, laughing, till she couldn't no more.
Cinder's blood boiling, she threw the frozen apple into the wall, its form shattering upon impact, splitting into snow - wherever the pieces would come into contact, the wall would glaze over in frost.
Why did these idiots and fools govern this world? Why were people willing to buy such fabricated tales just that they could feel important?
Nothing in this world was free, and yet that idiot walking magnet ate that nonsense up and likely thanked the usurper for revealing what a big hero she was. Knowing how the story actually went still made Cinder's head reel.
The pompous bastard in the tower loved his contracts and rules, weaving tales and myths around what he had built.
Kind were his words, but hollow was his soul - a far cry of the benevolent old wizard in the tales - a trickster wearing bodies as masks.
The Maiden powers could be called magic - they didn't follow the rules of this world nor bent to the laws of this reality.
Would a person wielding them be a hero and live happily ever after?
With a swipe of her hand, she could flood the entirety of Vale if she wanted. With a stomp of her foot, she could plunge the monolithic temples of Vacuo into the valley chasms below.
Who in their right mind would believe tales of rewards and benevolence when a Maiden moved like an unstoppable disaster?
Ozpin hadn't created this to make heroes - he merely had done what he always did - prey upon others and strip them of something that was rightfully theirs in the first place.
Magic was another manifestation of the idea behind the Monomyth - the interaction between the foundational forces of reality itself.
Why Magic was so different, in comparison to everything else, why it had worked the way it did - the theory of intertwining forces of reality itself decided those aspects.
And the prideful, arrogant fool was obsessed with it.
The reason behind Maidens' existence was just another grasp at that power by a being that had far long since outlived his value. And Cinder took that power from under his nose while using what he had created against him.
"Cinder, dear. It's not time yet. Once he wakes, we can talk about this again. Please get some rest, build your strength back up, and eat something. You must feel famished after spending months in that prison of death, child."
That patronizing old hag. Cinder attempted to be patient, asked her what the next target was, but…
"No, dear, you misunderstand me. There's nothing I want you to do now. Please take your time to heal. You did well - I am proud of you, but the rest is up to them - the humanity, my dear. Your wish has been fulfilled, and the human nature will do the rest."
In hindsight, that should have been obvious to her. The being known as Salem didn't care about falling Kingdoms or grand conspiracies. - so embroiled in her ancient game with her adversary.
Why would an ageless immortal being care about a falling Kingdom - an existence that might as well seem like a mere second in her eyes?
Cinder clenched her fists - she still couldn't read Salem's intentions, even after all those years. She had spent a decade agonizing over trying to understand why her life had taken the turn it did, why she had to live the life she lived.
Seven years ago, she found out the truth and worked hard towards a single goal, shedding anything unnecessary.
She'd wield every weapon she could learn to use, every poison she could learn to make. She'd do anything for power to achieve her goal. And yet now her benefactor stood in her way of it.
"Emerald." - She shouted with all her might.
"Please, no need to shout, or you'll make me deaf."
Cinder yelped from how close the voice came from.
She scoured the room, grinding her teeth.
On the furthest left corner, the air itself flickered, illusion slowly giving way to reality, revealing a woman comfortably sitting on a chair in the corner, grinning.
"I guess we knew from Amber already, but even you Maidens aren't immune to this, I guess." - Emerald tilted her head, her fingers pointing at her brain.
"Grow up, Emerald."
"You first." - Emerald chuckled as she spoke, clapping her hands together. - "So, what you gonna do now that your fairy godmother turned your back on you?"
Emerald's newfound bravery in her presence made her blood boil, as did her flippancy.
But part of Cinder respected that - only weaklings grovel.
"Take Mercury and us go to our hideout in Vale. I need you two to acquire a particular item I left there."
Cinder turned away and strode towards the window - she gazed outside, the landscape reflected in her eyes.
"Seems like a detour is needed to get what we want. Emerald." - Cinder said, her hand brushing against the glass panel separating them from what was outside. - "I trust you know this must be done with utmost secrecy or else…"
Cinder composed herself - patience always was her biggest virtue, or so her subordinates afraid of her would say.
Even if Salem were to get in the way, she would get him to answer her.
No matter what it would take.
January 18th, 797 E.A
City of Argus, Kingdom of Mistral Territory
The cries of children, the people shouting from behind their market stalls, the crowd around her melting into a sea of white noise - this experience was familiar to Yang.
She had heard those sounds before, seen these sights, just not here, not in this place.
If she were to close her eyes, the landscape around her would shift into a more familiar one. Vale's central city square was filled with similar market stalls - smiths, bakers, butchers, and tailors all offering their services, haggling with early customers.
But this was no Vale where an open square would greet the citizens with the vendors lined up in neat circles.
Instead, the Old Market in Argus Commercial District predated most of the city itself - situated in the parts built just after the fishing village had disappeared.
Buildings that sometimes looked as if they were ready to fall apart - alleys and pathways dyed in yellow and brown like rust.
A claustrophobic maze nest of cramped streets - all circling back on each other, swarming with people.
As she looked up above, she would see the washing lines stretched out between the buildings and neighbors conversing in the balconies above all the noise.
Below her - cold gray hues of crude stone blocks, the passersby swarming around her through the streets. She could not see the end of the street because the dust and the damp morning air both obscured its path.
Delivering a parcel to the smithy, bringing a list of necessary hotel repairs to the local workers, convincing the local cook to moonlight in the Sunspot's restaurant - Odd jobs concerning her mother's establishment, day by day, had become her routine.
Raven, a huntress on the run, attempting to run a hotel in the middle of a city on another continent was an extreme task, and Clair had insisted that this was also part of Yang's training - navigating and getting used to everyday routines.
At first, the noise and the seas of people terrified her, evoking memories she tried so hard to avoid.
She knew this feeling inside would never disappear, but little by little, Yang started to become more aware of which kinds of experiences - sights, sounds, smells, and so on - were the most likely to elicit a response from her. With each small step, Yang had started to manage her fears - at least enough to carry out simple tasks.
She couldn't hide for her entire life - that certainly wasn't in her nature!
After a week of following a similar routine, she had grown used to navigating Sunspot Hotel's surroundings.
Her mother's hideout lay in a peculiar spot, crammed at the intersection of three very different areas of Argus.
Behind it, lay the vast and complex high-rise buildings of one of Argus business districts - creatively named Business District B.
The back wall of the hotel led to a dark alley separating it from a monolithic mall built within the last five years.
To the side of it, the hotel lay a small cozy park as part of Residential District B - the windows of Yang's room had let her gaze in this direction, letting her see the skyscrapers of Business District A as well as the tall three skyscrapers atop the Panoptes Hill - the central area of the city - the Argus cultural, municipal and religious center.
And in front? In front lay the labyrinth of the commercial district, one of the oldest parts of the city, which Yang had found herself navigating now.
The street names, the buildings, the shortcuts - the outline of a small part of this city had become akin to muscle memory to Yang now.
Every day after breakfast and a training session, she would run through the side entrance, cross the street straight through the park, and through the net of alleyways, find herself in the middle parts of the commercial district where the Old Market lay.
While, at first, the hotel's location baffled her, as she navigated the city, it did less and less. The City of Argus was like a deep and vast sea - waves of civilization crashing in all directions - a perfect place for a person to disappear.
Even for a person like Yang in this case, whose face was etched into the memory of the entirety of Remnant as that vagrant on TV who broke some poor boy's leg - she'd still her looks sometimes, but the majority of Argus was too busy to care about another droplet of water, a part of the larger wave rushing through the streets.
Still, paranoia, or maybe guilt, inside had caused Yang to make sure she could minimize the possibility of a sudden and violent encounter - a slight hairstyle change, tying it into a ponytail behind her back not only helped to make her a bit less recognizable, but also made her hair (or as the lady at hair salon said "mane") more manageable.
She couldn't risk wearing her usual clothes because of how iconic they had become with the recordings of her at the tournament. Not that she wanted to. Orange and yellow - the fiery flames she had coated herself in for years - now felt distant, crass, and chilly. She couldn't overcome seeing the reflection of that blade in these colors.
Clair had shown her some local clothing stores, and Yang had ended up with something practical, once again, rather than flashy. As far as pants go - at first, the shopkeep and Clair had insisted on something loose - Yang stubbornly had settled on black military-style pants - something easy to move and fight in, especially considering her footing and balance was a work in progress.
As Yang walked through the crowd - a parcel in her hand - she approached a peculiar clockmaker's workshop - busted stone stairs leading into a basement.
Ticking noises and a musty smell not unlike the attic of their house at Patch greeted her - clocks, clocks everywhere.
From the experiences back then when her mother had dropped her into the middle of this city, weirdos with spears chasing after them, Yang already knew that there was more to this workshop than meets the eye - for example, a secret passage in the back that allowed them to escape those guys undetected back then.
"Hi there." - She said, placing the parcel on the counter. - "More trouble from the Sunspot Hotel here."
The old clockmaker nodded as he hurried to stuff the parcel deep below the counter, coughing.
"Mmh, yes." - He jumped back up, a letter in his hands. - "Can you please deliver this to that crone and tell her that there's news? She'll know what that means. This is of utmost urgency."
He handed her a letter envelope - red wax seal on its back - no address anywhere.
Yang wasn't an idiot - there was more to her mother's little business than just running a hotel or, as Clair had put it, "helping people". She had seen shady individuals enter and leave the hotel at suspicious hours of the day. Some of the hotel's staff moved and transported boxes at night.
And the hotel stood empty most of the time - one or two visitors at best. Just another reason why she had ended up staying - there was something her mother wasn't saying, and Yang was going to find out what, one way or the other.
Yang hid it inside her jacket, pulling the zipper up.
A red leather jacket with an adaptive design - another piece of wardrobe she had recently acquired to help her blend in.
"I will be sure to deliver this to her." - Yang said, turning around. - "Well, time's ticking, gotta go."
She waltzed out of the workshop, again wiggling through the alleyways, going around the entire District, taking twice as long as she needed to.
There was a reason she'd take so many detours through the alleys and whatnot - for the last few days, she couldn't shake the feeling that somebody was watching her, and it wasn't just paranoia or her trauma kicking in.
She strode leisurely through the crowded street, whistling.
Sure enough, on the edge of her vision, she could see figures changing directions, moving after her, matching her pace and maintaining the distance.
Yang dove through the crowd, turning and dodging oncoming people, until she took a hard turn into the alley, entering the butcher's shop. She waved at the butcher, shrugging, as she dove out through the other entrance back into the old market's crowds.
As she moved, she managed to catch a glimpse of their outfits - casual clothes as befit your average citizen, but the awkwardness of their movement suggested they weren't local.
She increased her pace as she darted north straight into the Residential District B, entering one of the three-story apartment buildings. She checked the basement door. Even many locals hadn't known that some of the apartment buildings, having been built at the same time, have connecting basements here. According to Clair, dozens of architects got involved in the construction and planning of this town over the years - all with their ideas, some of which ended up being quite eccentric. The apartment complexes around this area contained an interconnected basement dedicated to the heating systems.
The sound of dripping water greeted her - Raven and Clair had used these basements to move the night Yang had been dragged into Argus by her mother, so Yang had spent her free time wandering around a bit to get a feel of the place in case something unexpected were to happen.
Or maybe you, like always, were looking for trouble, Yang? Does your fist itch to hit someone to make things simpler?
Those weird guys likely still thrashed around the streets, bumping into people, annoyed - Yang laughed.
In around two weeks she had been here, Yang had been chased or tailed by two different groups of people now.
Her mother, Raven, was certainly involved in way more than she had told her.
January 18th, 797 E.A
City of Argus, Kingdom of Mistral Territory
His people braved the tallest mountain and brought light and fire to the coldest darkness - there was no room for error, no sympathy for mistakes. The Observer repeated this to himself every day.
He had heard that it took days for the bastard at the SDC to convince the Old Professor to go through with this. Understandable. Their purpose here - the mission they had ventured out to accomplish - might as well spark a war if they were to fail.
The Old Professor relented eventually, his moral quandaries quashed - the reason for that a mystery.
Out of all the ART's officers The Observer was chosen because of his flawless service record and unprecedented loyalty - the Council of Atlas and the Atlas Military both vouched for his reliability.
The Observer had a name, but the conditioning machinery had erased it from his mind for the mission's duration, leaving only the title.
No documents left behind, no uniforms, and all information compartmentalized - the rules established for the Research and Recon Operation number two hundred fifty-two.
Or, as his men had started calling it now - the mission of some gods' damn mess.
"Sir." - The soldier saluted him, the salute clashing with generic baggy pants and a shirt he wore.
"At ease, soldier." - The Observer waved his hand dismissively. - "She escaped, sir."
"The Incident on the ninth of January, the increased pressure from Harmony freaks, and this girl running errands for that damn woman." - The Observer muttered to himself, nervously tapping his fingers on the shoddy wooden desk. - "We still nowhere at where the information came from?"
"From previous observations, sir, the blondie runs errands all over town, we simply lack the manpower to check every single establishment or house she enters."
"Yes, that's fine - those Harmony freaks would be all over us if we tried." - The Observer said.
He took a glance at his surroundings. Torn wallpapers, mold, broken tables - an abandoned office of some sorry stupid little establishment this city had swallowed up way before they had arrived here.
The Atlas Research Taskforce they called themselves - ART.
Under the Professor's guidance, they had to ensure the continued experiment was a success, even with the significant damage the events at Vale had caused them.
Rich damn businessmen, prominent military figures, and the brightest scientists all have put way too much effort into this to let even something like towers going down halt it.
The first part of the mission seemed damn simple when they had arrived.
With the agreement of both governments, they had to travel to the Kingdom of Mistral, specifically Argus - there the mooks from the Council of Harmony had to hand over a specific piece of technology that the Kingdom of Mistral had been guarding.
Such a damn generic job.
Nobody damn expected a third party to swoop in and steal the damn thing from beneath their damn noses. A well-planned mission descended into a mess - a sour cocktail of complications, detours, and failure.
Uncertainty was their worst enemy, and the whole unit has been nearly damn swimming in it for weeks now.
Council of Harmony's idiots were damn obnoxious in their accusations, threatening diplomatic action against the Kingdom of Atlas, and nobody knew what in the gods' name had happened - how did something this important just up and got stolen?
From what they could track down, the shady hotel in the center of the Argus old city districts was at the heart of the heist.
But the damn mooks at Harmony kept stonewalling them from acting upon it and refused to act.
Military secrets of the two greatest Kingdoms threatened to leak, and those damn idiots were still mistrustful.
The War was damn centuries ago, and the folks still acted stupid when it came to their Kingdoms doing anything together.
The Observer did not know what kind of damn game those damn Mistral idiots were playing and did not care. Most of Harmony's idiots would likely freeze to death had they even attempted to brave Mount Atlas. They couldn't have known what it was to live - they merely existed in comfort and naivety!
These idiots built this whole damn city with other Kingdoms precious wealth, and yet they remained damn idiots.
The Observer scoffed - Kingdom Atlas remained Remnant's bright, shining example of progress.
Here they were - cut off from their chain of command and facing exponentially worse damn complications. Still, the damn goal remained unchanging.
"Keep watch upon that garbage hole." - The Observer coughed, reaching for a glass of whiskey. - "I want to know every damn person, no, scratch that every damn rat that enters or leaves that stupid place!"
The soldier saluted once again.
"Yeah, yeah, go. Relay the damn orders. " - The Observer gulped down the glass of whiskey in one swing. - "Also, tell the damn mediator to come over here."
The soldier turned around and marched out of the torn-down office.
The Observer sighed, coughing - his throat burned, and his head rang.
They needed to get the damn mooks at Harmony to give them the green light.
A single damn word is all they needed - neat and tidy, written on a damn sheet of paper - all official, of course.
ART was a research organization, and this was a research unit, too - seven damn scientists and around twenty or so of the damn finest Atlas soldiers. That would still have been enough to turn that garbage dump of a hotel inside out to get the stolen item back.
And the fragile piece would remain intact.
The Observer forced himself off the chair, knocking a stack of papers from the desk.
All they needed was a green light, a go, and they would have it - a perfect chance to fulfill the second step of their mission.
He walked over a steel pod resting against the wall in front - three damn dust generators connected to it, buzzing.
Those things had always creeped him out - even when the project started. The Observer was sure only the Professor had no doubts about what they were doing there, deep inside Mount Atlas.
Using something to reverse engineer from that gods' forsaken technology to retrieve something sharing the same origin - the irony in his mission did not escape him.
The Observer brushed the palm of his hand against the cold metal sarcophagus.
They were running out of time - they couldn't allow themselves the luxury to.
The bastard running the SDC wanted results - all he saw was profit. The Professor wanted to fulfill his life's goal - all he saw was his dream coming true.
Pressure from all sides - the Observer had to make hard choices.
IF Mistral folks wouldn't give them the green light within days The Observer's men will do whatever they want anyway.
With the thing in this box at their side, it would be over in minutes.
After? Maybe a Dust leak and the garbage Hotel went into flames? Maybe electrical failure? Maybe - a sudden Grimm incursion? Who knew?
The Observer had many ideas - all kinds of accidents that could have befallen their targets to cover ART involvement.
January 18th, 797 E.A
City of Argus, Kingdom of Mistral Territory
Pain on her left side beneath the ribs, another impact to her leg below the knee, and a sudden push to her right shoulder - Yang's face greeted the padded ground with a thump.
She looked up, the same ceiling fan still spinning as always, as Clair lounged further away already.
A walking, talking, fighting mystery. Could someone this strong just casually live in the middle of a city like this? What had brought her here, to Raven?
First impressions were mixed - running through the streets and then, the next day, getting punched in the face during the first sparring match.
But the more spoke with her, the more this person fascinated her - especially with how much of a constant Clair's nonchalant snarky mood was - this was a woman who was in control of herself and of her surroundings, always knowing who she was and never falling prey to outside factors - a commanding, yet calm and gentle presence.
How would have Clair handled that situation back at Beacon? Would it have been different?
Yet a week of sparring sessions and training later, the woman in white still refused to budge. And Yang wasn't getting any better at this, still ending up on the ground. What good did these sessions bring for Yang?
Every training match would go the same way - Yang would come in ready to win, Clair would drop some snarky remark, and Yang would lose her cool rushing forward- Yang would end up on the ground, breathless.
"This is pointless." - Yang smashed her fist into the ground.
"Oui? Why do you think so?"
"I've been doing this for what, seven days now?" - Yang said. - "It's like I am stuck in a loop."
"How many times have you, after waking up from that tragedy, would wake up and say "today will be different "? How many times did you succumb to the same patterns instead?" - Clair continued as she walked closer. -"You said you would take walks through your home village but I think you never truly escaped your room even then."
Yang couldn't deny that.
The burning hall, the flashing blade - even now a part of her was stuck in that moment and sometimes everything around her felt like a fleeting dream she'd have as that blade descended upon her.
"What if I can't do this?" - Yang pushed herself back up.
"A terrifying aspect about putting yourself back together is the conflict between the part of you that says "you can do this" and the part that says "you aren't good enough, you will be here forever" - as they clash, you often might find yourself not moving forward at all."
Yang stood still for a second.
It is in your nature to self-sabotage yourself, isn't it, Yang?
She clenched her fist. Enough of self-depreciation.
Yang swung her fist upward, resuming the fight without a warning.
"Your mom, Raven, whether intentionally or unintentionally, broke that loop, that cycle." - Claire jumped back, unflinching. - "Selfishly, suddenly, and brutally - you got thrown into the dark. Most people would fall apart, but I am genuinely happy and surprised to see you pick yourself back up."
Yang took steps to the right as she attempted a feint while closing the distance.
She kicked Clair in the leg as she rolled through the ground behind her, swinging upward.
"You think about giving up right now, you talk about how you haven't made any progress, but that's not what I see" - Clair effortlessly turned around, redirecting her attack, gripping her arm by the wrist, twisting it. - "Every day you move through your errands more efficiently, you get around the hotel faster - everything that you do is part of that process, that training"
"So what?"
"Think back to a week ago. You claim you haven't progressed, but you from back then fought your sense of balance more than she fought me, little bird." Yang pulled Clair's grip downward, connecting her hands with her knee to break free.
"Not fast enough." - Yang said.
"Oh, I'd say the opposite, actually, dear." - Clair said. - "If I had to guess, right now, you fight just a little bit worse than you did before your trauma. It will take you a few months to get a hang of where you are now."
A sweeping leg flying at her face took Yang's words out of her mouth as she stumbled down, barely dodging the kick.
"That's normal. You can't just be expected to "stop mopping around" and get back to it as if it was normal - You have to relearn so many things and fight inner battles. You also are learning to fight in a way where your anger can't be used as your weakness."
Clair hopped up and down on her feet, movements reminiscent of a kickboxer.
The woman in front was adept at changing fighting styles on the fly.
From what Yang could gather, Clair was an ex-Huntress, but most of the details of her life still eluded Yang.
"Whether you choose to get a prosthetic or not will also decide on what kind of fighting style you need to shift towards too. But right now? For a woman that went through what you did? It's a miracle you are progressing so well."
"I didn't say I'd give up, you know!" - Yang shouted, darting forward. - "I'm not giving up."
"It felt good to actually say that, didn't it? Is this the first time you said that out loud to yourself since what happened?"
At times, Yang still instinctively wanted to swing with the other arm or burst into rage.
Both were a no-go.
She stopped in her tracks.
"You said your Semblance amplifies and returns the damage inflicted to you, turning it into power." - Clair said as if sensing her hesitation. - "You were just about to attempt to use it here. What damage were you going to return to me? How long does it take to charge? Because you haven't really let me land much of a hit against you yet. Also, you told me about how it would flare up at night even though there was no physical damage being inflicted upon you right then. So, did your Semblance just store up a bunch from when the trauma happened, or what? Don't you think it's strange?"
"Never really thought about how it works. My dad's Semblance works similarly." - Yang took a step back. - "As for it acting up, even if the arm is not there, I still can feel the pain, so I assumed that's normal."
"Semblances aren't completely influenced by genetics, you know. They are still a representation of yourself." - Clair shrugged. - "And, yes, pain, but you said it redirects damage inflicted. There's a lot of inconsistencies with how your Semblance works, there are."
Clair strode closer.
"So, why didn't you?"
"I am not sure I can control it." - Yang looked at the palm of her hand. - "Sometimes, when I do, the emotions take control of me, and I lash out like some wild beast."
"Oui, that makes sense. That's Branwen family legacy part in you - Branwen semblances, while all different, have manifested as something tied to intense emotions. Must be pretty hard with your temper but that's also likely why that part of the legacy manifested in your Semblance."
"Even Raven's?"
"Yes. Even Raven's. Especially Raven's." - Clair nodded.
Clair turned around.
"I am still not convinced your Semblance is as you say." - Clair said. - "Even if it was at some point, Semblances can evolve and change with personal trauma and growth. There's no guarantee that your Semblance works the same as before. It could have changed at any point in your life without you having noticed."
"Either way, I am just not ready to try it yet, Sorry." - Yang said. - "I was just frustrated, you know. Felt like going in circles."
Yang looked her in the eyes.
"Do you know anything about you-know-what?"
"You can say the word, dear - it's not some secret code."
"The Monomyth. You know about it?"
"Oui. There are very few people here who do. It's usually a sign that Raven trusts you if you know."
Could her mother trust someone? An Incomprehensible thought.
Yang's thoughts carried her to what her mother had revealed back then.
The Monomyth - the theory shared by one immortal atop his emerald tower - a tale about the laws governing reality, upon which the technology in the ages Once Upon A Time had been based and which even gave birth to Semblances and even Dust.
Her mother's words, back at the ruins of that cabin, rang in Yang's head:
"What do you know about The Monomyth? At the core, it's an idea of how the two forces that make up our reality interact, Yang. Of how they grow and how they affect each other and themselves. There are some studies in the world dealing with it, but that arrogant fool, let's just say unique, perspective had allowed him to comprehend it beyond what a human lifespan lets us."
The idea that reality functioned on the interaction of two opposite forces wasn't new to Yang. A butterfly flaps its wings, and a tsunami hits the other side of Remnant - an example to illustrate the philosophy of cause and effect.
Even Ozpin's predictive theories that Raven had talked about hinged upon this idea - everything in this world was either a cause or a consequence - no exceptions.
So, where did it start? What was the first that set reality in motion? Literature and fiction were often obsessed with this idea - they gave it many different names like karma or deus ex machina.
With how uncertain she had found herself about everything in her life after she had discovered Summer was not her biological mother, Yang always gravitated towards ideas like that back then.
Raven had called it Life Itself and Death Itself but stressed that it was an overtly simplified way to describe it. There were many ways to name those concepts - Progression and Regression, Matter and Antimatter, Beginning and End. Everything in this reality was a result of the interaction between those two forces - the reality could only exist when they were out of balance in the first place. Because coming in contact with each other, they'd cancel out, leaving Nothing.
The Grimm all around Remnant were one of the more obvious manifestations of how Death Itself as a concept interacted with reality comprised of its opposite - not a natural occurrence, but the one caused by the events in the past.
"What do you think about the whole thing?" - Yang sat on the ground. - "The Monomyth and the whole thing about the fairytales?"
"I think the idea that this ageless person is controlling and guiding every moment of our lives is terrifying, little bird." - Clair shrugged as she turned around, clapping her hands. - "I'd rather believe in the worth of free will and humanity being able to make the right choices themselves."
"But if Raven is correct and a lot of it is cyclical? That's just too cruel."
"Have you ever thought about the whole Faunus Rebellion thing, Yang?"
"Honestly, I never gave it much thought before. My mom, the other mom, died, and then I had a little sister to protect and all. Never got time for the whole ideals thing, you know." - Yang stared at the stump where her other hand used to be. - "Until I met someone. A friend, maybe, I don't know how to describe what it was. Everything we went through together made me question things, even myself."
"And what do you think now?"
"Now I partly feel ashamed for being so oblivious to it all before I actually met someone affected by it. Not just the Faunus stuff." - Yang looked up at the ceiling fan, turning round and round. - "I used to play knights and princesses and read fairytales to Ruby, you know? Yet there's a lot of malice and injustice in this world. Way more than I was willing to believe back then."
Yang laid down on the padded sparring area floor.
"Like, we used to gossip and talk about bullies being racist to Faunus students, but it didn't even cross my mind to do anything about it. - Yang's eyes followed the spinning fan. - "I am sure others did at least think about it, but I am not a hero like my sister or that…friend."
Clair exhaled, her palm resting against her forehead.
"That's ignorance, and ignorance is dangerous, little bird. But it's also synonymous with childhood. The fact that you are actually thinking about those things or second-guessing your own past choices means you are growing."
"Is that why you stopped being a Huntress, too? You grew out of being ignorant?"
"I think you will find out that Mistral's Huntsmen can be very unlikeable people." - Clair spoke with a chuckle, stretching her arms upward. - "I just experienced firsthand how awful people can be."
Yang brushed her hand against the padded floor.
"Think about it, little bird." - Clair said as she walked towards the exit. - "People choose to enroll in Huntsman academies for many reasons. Even though most want to become huntsmen because they want to be heroes, some do it for money, no? And some for family or love or animals or food or ghosts, you get me, no? Even in Vale, not all Huntsmen are good people. Lots of people lots of reasons to be there."
"A professor asked us once on a road trip why each of us wanted to be a Huntsman." - Yang reminisced. - "I tried to give a generic answer, but that did not fly. I don't think he was even satisfied with the real one I gave after. Must have heard a lot of answers like that."
"Oui? What did you say to him?"
"I told him I wanted to see the world, a thrilling adventure." - Yang stared at the ceiling, her gaze drifting back to those days. - "I did believe it to be true, I think…I almost bought it myself. Yet now, I am on a whole other continent, and my life has fallen apart, and I feel pretty aimless. Talk about complicated..."
"Your world fell apart, yet a few months later, you are training on another continent to fight monsters. Give yourself some credit where it's due, Yang Xiao Long - you are not as hopeless or as aimless as you tell yourself you are."
Clair sighed.
"For me? I was one of the idealists, yes." - Clair turned her head to the side looking at Yang. - "I wanted to help, to save people, but Huntsmen aren't always heroes from tales. Sometimes, we are just puppets, sacrifices, tools, actors on someone else's stage, following rules we don't understand, established by people we never met. I found myself hurting others more than I could help as I lost everything and gained nothing. I began helping people, actually helping, even if it made me clash with other Huntsmen here."
"You said the Kingdom threw you away before."
"Oui. Crossed paths with a Huntress from one of the noble families. It was easier to smear a nobody than to taint the robes of a noble. I quit. I hope it sates your curiosity."
Yang looked up, toward the doorway where Clair stood.
"Don't feel sad, little bird. I am used to disappointment, and that wasn't the first time I experienced something like that. My blood and my ancestry still sometimes lead to biases against me. It was an easy choice to make. But right now? Helping people like you? I am Huntress no more, yet I am more of a Huntress than I could be back then."
Yang turned her head, staring at the empty gym around her.
Her blood? Yang wanted to ask her, but she knew it wasn't time yet.
What did being a Huntress mean for Yang? If she were to take away doing it for Ruby, if she were to ignore the cheesy one-liner delivered to Professor Oobleck back then, what would she want to do as a Huntress?
Could she ever find her own answer to that?
"You going to sleep here, little bird?"
"Why not - it's comfy."
"We'll see how fast that snark disappears once I turn off the lights."
"Yeah, no. Was joking." - Shiver ran down Yang's spine imagining being in the dark here.
Yang knew there were no rats or mice here, but part of her still could imagine them swarming around. Fear of mice, however, seemed like such an insignificant thing compared to her actual ones.
"So was I, dear." - Clair laughed. - "Don't stay here too long. Raven's might be back today, so if you want to ask something, be ready."
"Yeah, I'll be up in no time, just soaking up in my usual defeat" - Yang said, smiling.
"No need for nihilism, dear. Be proud." - Clair's voice trailed off as she disappeared behind the door, waving her arm at Yang without turning around. - "You are doing well, and don't you ever forget it."
Left alone, Yang grinned to herself -she needed to grow stronger, get back on her feet, and move forward.
She wasn't doing this for Ruby. Sure, she wanted to save her sister, and if Raven was right and powers behind the scenes convened to play games with her sister's life, Yang couldn't ignore it. But she wasn't doing this for her.
She would help Ruby because she wanted to, not because it was her purpose or expected of her - Yang would do it because she could and wanted to. She loved her sister, and Yang would help Ruby if she needed her to, but she couldn't live her sister's life.
Chasing after people, running from people, being lost, deriving her self-worth from how useful she is to others while running blind on rage - Yang had enough.
Living this way had turned her life into a pile of ashes.
Were she to manage to rebuild, Yang wasn't going to throw herself into whatever direction the wind blew.
Would she help Raven or stop her? Would she join Ruby on a journey or force her back to Vale?
Yang would get her answers and, for the first time in her life, she would be in charge of her choices.
She would forge her path, make her own decisions - and gods help them if someone attempted to take that away from her again, no matter who it may be.
Yang Xiao Long will find a way she could live.
January 18th, 797 E.A
Kulhara, Domain of Nemea, Kingdom of Mistral Territory
Forest, grass, tree, forest, ravine, swamp, forest, grass, ravine, swamp, forest - after days of traversing the same-looking scenery Jaune Arc wanted to drop dead.
It wasn't just about the repeating scenery, though - the silence looming between them all was a far bigger mood killer.
After escaping from that cavern, a cave, or whatever they had ended up in, they all had felt joy - cheer, banter, comedic quips, and camaraderie. Nora and Ren had returned to their banter instead of the unease brewing between them, and Ruby seemed to smile, too.
But then all that joy slowly evaporated again, giving way to something dreary.
A recollection of a trope - a calm before the storm - spun inside his head, as Jaune walked.
Nothing good ever follows when everyone gets lost inside themselves.
His back ached - the sensation of Pyrrha pushing him to a wall with her semblance etched into it.
The last half a year of experiences taught him that when people fell silent, and communication stopped - trouble followed.
And sometimes - death.
Sometimes, he still stood in that fallen-apart freeze frame of Beacon, Pyrrha's fate unfolding way beyond his reach.
"You okay there, man?" - Neptune poked him with his weapon. - "You looking kind of pale."
"Just tired, that's all." - Jaune hesitated, keeping his pace.
Oh yeah, the thing with Neptune and healing or reversing his wounds or whatever.
Comprehension of what happened - the nature of his semblance still eluded him.
It shouldn't have been surprising - Semblances were always a representative of a person's heart, their very essence.
His heart, every fiber of his soul has been filled with a single desire - he did not want that for any of his friends.
Jaune wondered whether he couldn't access it before because he genuinely held no conviction or belief that was true - just imaginary goals and dreams of fame, fantasies straight out of an action movie poster.
A few months ago he would have been bummed at a semblance that seemed to have primarily medical application, but not anymore.
He didn't care about being a Hero anymore - he merely walked among them.
The wind picked up more and more as they got further away from the Great Lake, tree branches smashing against each other as it whistled between them.
If he were to continue being a Huntsman, he would dedicate himself to saving lives - making himself worthy of the blind trust Pyrrha had placed upon him.
The old him would have whined about how it was not as cool as, for example, manifesting a flaming sword or controlling metal - something that would draw the spotlight in crucial moments and leave others in awe.
Jaune's hand itched with wanting to slap the younger himself, if he could - even reminiscing of how he would act sent shivers down his spine. Hounding Weiss for weeks over some weird sense of entitlement that she had to give him a chance, the fake bravado and constant stumbling over his own words - goosebumps all over, he couldn't stand his stupidity and how obnoxious he was.
He'd tell tall tales of family heirlooms, dramatic family life tidbits, and other kinds of fantasies intermixed with reality.
He even failed to tell Pyrrha how he felt about her, even though, looking back upon it, he likely could have as early as back then when Cardin had attempted to blackmail him. Yet he had foolishly chased after Weiss, focusing on nothing but her "status" as a princess of sorts in his mind - unlike Pyrrha, he never got to know her or even actually liked her - it just felt natural back then to believe that would be where his story would go.
He had only realized this way too late, with the kiss Pyrrha had initiated - the last time he had seen her - a goodbye kiss.
Since that day, he had spent weeks trying to organize his thoughts.
He did not know what Pyrrha had seen in him, but he hoped to one day live up to that - to the chance she had given him to improve and to stay at Beacon despite him being a cheat.
As they sailed through the sea, he had spent time alone - a goodbye of his own to the foolish dreams and toxic ideas that he harbored that prevented him from telling the woman of his life how he had felt.
A worthless shell he had constructed to prevent himself from feeling or showcasing his emotions had robbed him of his life's joy.
Never again would he wear a mask to hide himself, no matter how imperfect or weak he would seem to others.
Which is why it hurt so much to find himself amidst a damn masquerade right now - none of his friends dared to say what's truly on their minds.
Neptune was the only one carefree, sometimes whistling, sometimes attempting to do tricks by spinning his weapon in his hands, grumbling when others wouldn't react.
Everyone else hid in their worlds.
Ruby's eyes bore conflict he didn't see in them before. Ren would reply, talk, and be open, but Jaune could tell there was more on his mind than it seemed.
And Nora? Nora almost felt too happy - it didn't match the experiences they shared in that cave, but then every person dealt with things differently, so Jaune couldn't just say something about it.
He never noticed the lies others told before - likely because he was so busy keeping up his own going.
But he was done with that - once they reach Nemea and find Pyrrha's family home, he would go back to Vale, to Beacon, and do everything he could to help there, just like Neptune did with Mistral.
Jaune realized that he never really thought about what being a Huntsman meant before.
Now, though, it seemed clear as day for him - saving lives, that's what Huntsmen do.
They reached the woodcutter clearings, indicating the town itself was nearby now, as they could see the walls through the tree line.
No Serpentines in sight, their journey was accompanied by nothing but the wind and their voices - a sheer contrast from how they had arrived at Kulhara the first time.
As the group approached the final frontier, all of them once again gathered together, walking at an even pace.
Nora whistled, Ruby's eyes darted to sides, searching for possible threats, and Ren strode forward, watching the ground.
What else could he call this but a masquerade? Here they plodded forward after a life or death experience, having faced a terrifying beast, and yet it only had taken a few days for them all to shut off once again.
They strode step in step, but each might as well have been on a different continent right now.
"That town sure took a beating." - Neptune broke the ice, scratching his head.
"The difference between life and death is but a single day." - Ren said, stretching his hands.
"Do you think they blame us?" - Ruby chimed in, grasping Crescent Rose in her hands as her eyes remained locked towards the tree line.
Jaune struggled to say something - Nora's tearful confession about the Wanderer back then still weighed heavy upon his chest - a creature of Grimm reacting to someone's presence this way seemed incomprehensible to him. Nora was speculating, of course - they had no way of knowing whether the Wanderer had appeared because of her being there, or not.
"All I know is that a Grimm appeared, and we did our job the best we could." - Ren looked at Nora. - "Trying to assign human reasons, logic, and behavior to a Creature of Grimm does us no good."
"You think any of them are still there?" - Jaune looked at Ren and Nora, his eyes, then shifting towards Neptune. - "How long does it take for help to arrive upon emergencies in Mistral? I got the feeling Huntsmen are not exactly celebrated here."
"It's complicated." - Nora said, waving the storage case around as if it was nothing. - "When me and Ren arrived in Vale, we were surprised at how much people there idolized the Huntsmen. The experience was alien to us."
"I only know how it is in the big cities." - Neptune's voice grew somber. - "People all over the Hearts are obsessed with lineages and legacy of the past. The noble families all claim to have descended from Mistral's kings, for example. Warriors are celebrated, fighting in tournaments all over with many taking great pride in their success there even if they never were to commit to being Huntsmen and Huntresses."
"But, it's different outside the Hearts." - Ren cut Neptune off, waving his hand. - "The status, the fame, the reputation. It tends to go to their heads. And while they behave within the big cities, a lot of Huntsmen treat smaller villages as their playgrounds. It's not unusual for villagers to be suspicious or fearful of Huntsmen, whether they are passing by or assigned to that specific village."
"Is that why those people reacted the way the did to me?" - Ruby turned her head towards Ren. - "That's why they viewed me as a threat?"
Jaune had forgotten the unfortunate experience Ruby supposedly had suffered between them leaving the Old Captain's ship and him deciding to use an excuse of scouting ahead to sort out his thoughts.
Time and time again, he had ended up in the wrong place, even if at the right time.
"There are lots of bad people everywhere, Ruby." - Nora patted Ruby's head, making her hair even more disheveled than usual. - "You shouldn't let the bad ones get you down."
"And! To go back to the question at hand about whether help got to Kulhara yet." - Neptune clacked his teeth. - "It really depends on how important the place is. Sometimes help arrives within days, and sometimes never. Since it's a logistics stop between Argus, Haven, and Nemea, I'd say, it should eventually get there. Don't know if meager three days is enough, though."
Jaune chuckled - Neptune sure loved the spotlight.
As they went past the tree line, the road greeted them, and on the other side of the road - the city walls.
As Jaune stared at the portion of the wall with the gate that the Wanderer had broken through, a surprising sight greeted him - a metallic construction now had covered the hole, melding into the remnants of the stone wall around the hole - an anachronistic contrast between the town that had been there for decades and something new.
The new metallic portion of the wall contained what seemed to be turrets on top, lined up around the gate, manned by figures in dark green outfits Jaune quite couldn't make out.
As they traveled closer to the gate, the guards approached them - ten or so men in dark green uniforms like those above. This time Jaune could get a better look at the outfits - and yet whenever he had attempted to note the details, his mind struggled to organize the information about them.
No matter how much he tried, no matter how close he was - the uniforms the men wore seemed indistinguishable and unclear.
"We are sorry, the entry to the town is currently limited, due to the ongoing matter of Grimm incursion." - One of the guards droned in an almost emotionless even tone.
"Do we have to verify our identities or something?"
"No need. Just state your intended goals of entering the town and be aware that while inside you will be closely monitored."
Before Jaune or anyone could say another word, Neptune slipped in front of them, flashing the temporary permit.
"We are Huntsmen working who fought the creature that attacked the town. Here are my credentials proving that I have been assigned here."
The guard studied the license, scanning it with a device Jaune did not recognize. He turned around shouting something at the people manning the turrets.
The turrets vibrated, powering down.
They brought out the welcoming party for them - Jaune wasn't surprised, considering the threat that hit the town, but how many weapons had been pointed at them still sent shivers down his spine.
"Okay, you are cleared for entry. Please proceed." - The guard uttered as the guardsmen parted the ways toward the gate. - "Please note that Kulhara is currently under martial law, and any misbehavior will be punished accordingly. If you are traveling to Nemea, another evacuation convoy has been scheduled within two days."
Jaune hesitated - something about these guys had made all the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
He looked at his friends, his thoughts begging them to take the first step.
As Ren walked forward, Jaune could breathe now, following with the rest of the group.
Professor Ozpin designating him as Team JNPR leader always felt wrong to him - Jaune never was a leader, never managed to lead his team. What did the old professor see in him?
The younger version of him would likely thrive on the idea, but now, if anything, Jaune wanted to help rather than lead.
Dreams of leading knights into battle, once formed by the shows and books he saw as a child, had long since left his heart.
He did not care for conflict nor dream of thriving as a champion among the chaotic discord - the journey his younger self would have only dreamed of had become a struggle for him.
The Huntsmen relishing in their power that Ren and Neptune had described disgusted him - in part because the vivid paintings his mind had concocted from their words felt more like a chilling reflection of where he had nearly ended up.
His idea of a Huntsman - the one who saves lives - coincided for him with the insatiable wish for serenity and absolute rejection of fame and conflict.
Just one of many reasons why he grew more convinced to return to Beacon afterward - he could only hope Ruby realized where the path she wanted to walk would have led her.
The metal gates buzzed, the automatic systems inside clacking and vibrating as the metal plates sprung open, the steel creaking.
What greeted them was more akin to an anthill rather than a town. The smell of metal and rust, sharp sounds, and flashes of welding torches - dozens of men and women working effortlessly to rebuild the place.
"I guess this answers the question of how important Kulhara is to them, huh" - Neptune chuckled.
As they coursed through what could only be described as a construction site, they reached the center square where the fight had started.
The place was cleaned out, debris all removed and the center of the square held an unexpected out-of-place object now.
An airship - Jaune didn't recognize the model as he wasn't good with this kind of stuff anyway.
"And that, my friends, is Mistral's own patented mass-produced airship design, courtesy of the folks at Dragon Fortress, the project codename Feilong." - Neptune pointed at the thing in front. - "So they finally got them off the ground, huh."
"A Feilong?" - Ren repeated the word. - "How self-absorbed can they be."
Did the word hold any meaning? Cities and places would get named after significant myths of Once Upon a Time, people would bear color in their name, and so on - things usually get named after important stuff, don't they?
"Flying beasts from the age before the cataclysm" - Neptune said. - "Dragons, Sky Beasts. Different legends give the Feilong many names, but one element remains, and that is them being the Kings of the Sky."
A metal construct as tall as a single-story house and as long as at least two of the buses, many of which coursed through Vale. The wings, akin to that of a dragonfly, protruded from the middle, covered in what Jaune could only describe as weirdly reminiscent of silk. The airship's front was a rough square shape of mismatched windows and protruding tubes - after Neptune's description, Jaune couldn't unsee the dragon's head now.
"The fire dust deposits are used to heat the air below the wings and the whole bottom is infused with gravity dust, making it easier to lift off despite its size." - Neptune pointed at different parts of the ship, making poses as he went on. - "A fusion of Atlas shared knowledge of flight systems and Mistral's sense of aesthetics and history of Dust technology that dates a thousand years"
"Sure, looks like the partnership between Atlas and Mistral was going swimmingly. - Ren said. - "The fact that they deployed something like this here speaks miles about the importance this place holds to them."
"They wouldn't likely send it to that village haunted by the Wraith." - Ruby's voice shook as she looked away from the technological marvel.
"They likely wouldn't, yes." - Neptune stood still. - "Honestly, the fact that they are likely at a mass-production scale now and nobody knew is surprising. Sun and I and our team left Mistral a year or so ago to go to Vale and this is the first time I see it complete. Mistral's been ramping up their infrastructure and factory production lately, it seems."
Jaune gritted his teeth - a Kingdom upping its production like this within a year is never a good sign.
"Yes, it's concerning." - Ren noted as if having read his mind. - "Last time a Kingdom upped their production capacity like this…"
The Great War unfolded - Mantle launching attacks upon Vacuo and Vale, Mistral growing involved, the scarring of Vacuo - everything progressed at an alarming rate.
Jaune had seen many movies about the Great War, about the terrifying and heroic struggles that followed - one of many reasons why he had never wanted to be a soldier and instead idolized being a Huntsman.
There was, of course, no reason why anyone would have wanted to renew hostilities now, though. - just a lot of uncertainty - but who knows where a year or two without direct communications and with the situation at Vale would lead.
"Explains why Department of Harmony goons now guard the town at least." - Neptune said. - "Can't leave the new toys unguarded."
"Depa of who?" - Ruby said.
"As one of the two main government forces in Mistral, the Department of Harmony is akin to unified peacekeepers that prevent public unrest. They can often be identified by their weapons as all of them use black lances, and their uniforms function as a dust camouflage to hide their real identities." - Ren turned away from the feilong as he spoke. - "Their counterpart, the Department of Unity, the military, would likely be behind the production of this thing."
Great. Military now too - totally no need to panic, Jaune.
As the moments from the fight just three days ago played in his mind, he took in the sights, now bathed in the golden evening glow.
The only way he could recognize destruction here was via holes in the ground all around the place - the places where the houses crumbled and, after the rubble got removed, the now open basements remained.
The well still stood there, destroyed and untouched - likely not a priority - Ren had already moved there to retrieve the belongings they had hidden there.
Jaune stared in the direction of the tavern that they had not stayed at - no sight of it anymore either - if not for Nora and Ren's quick thinking when the attack started, all their belongings would have been lost, including Pyrrha's weapons and armor they had intended to return to her family.
Had they not grabbed their belongings or defied their training as Huntsmen and unpacked - all of that would have been gone. Now, thankfully, all they had lost were a couple of days' worth of rations and a few sets of spare clothes.
Ren came back to them, dragging four backpacks.
Back in Beacon, lessons about efficient packing and relocating during conflict seemed dull to him - he wanted action, adventure, and fighting. Once again, he wanted to slap the past him.
"Need some help there?" - Nora, having put the case on the ground, hopped towards Ren, giggling. - "Looks pretty heavy."
"I see you and the food gremlin had survived."
A sound interrupted the team hijinks - The Town Elder approached them - and he hugged surprised Ren in a tight embrace.
The Town Elder coughed twice before letting go as if embarrassed. Without looking, he stretched out his hand, patting Nora's head.
"Glad you two are okay."
"More than okay." - Nora giggled. - "You can cross off The Wanderer from your list of worries."
"Oh? How did you do what fifty men couldn't?"
"She dropped a cave on it."
The Town Elder froze.
Jaune wasn't surprised - even now, that absurd sentence gave him a pause.
"You sure? Back then, his old man blasted most of that thing's body off, and it still came back." - The elder scratched his. - "Countless huntsmen, warriors, civilians, soldiers fought that thing in Arcadia, and no matter the damage done, it moved until none were left in its way. And then it just left for a decade. If it had reappeared now…"
"We can't be sure of any-"
"Trust me. It won't be a problem no more." - Nora interrupted Ren. - "Shriveled horse guy is history."
"Wish it was this easy to believe that, kids." - The Elder chuckled as he slapped them both on the shoulders. - "Either way, this isn't what I came here to talk about."
He turned towards them all.
"Ren, you all kids, you have chosen the worst possible timing to return here." - Elder handed Ruby a laminated paper page. - "The only reason I am giving you this is because I refuse to believe Ren's child would be in bad company. And because you guys are likely the reason all of us are still alive."
A paper sheet with something written on it - Jaune couldn't quite make it out from where he was standing, but he could see Ruby's face drop.
She turned towards him and stretched out her hand, giving him the page.
His hands sweating and head pounding, he took it, reading it.
The Council of Nemea, Domain of City State of Nemea, Kingdom of Mistral Territory.
ARREST WARRANT To all law enforcement and government authorities regarding an issued warrant.
The suspect is thereby wanted for multiple known cases of murders within the territory of Nemea's judicial authority.
The suspect is considered armed and extremely dangerous. Apprehend with caution.
Further provided is the collective witness sketch of the suspect in question.
The suspect is to be apprehended alive and delivered to the City of Nemea to stand trial.
A paper page coated in a substance that makes it indestructible by usual means - a default kind of arrest warrant that would get delivered to authorities in major towns - he remembered some of the huntsman jobs at Beacon involving guarding Kingdom officials delivering them. Back then, with the towers still functioning, that always seemed like such an antiquated procedure to him.
On the second half of the page, a giant picture of himself looked back at Jaune.
"What." - A single word escaped his lips before a lump in his throat blocked off whatever thoughts came next from being vocalized.
"If you guys entered through the gate, then there are only minutes before bureaucracy does its job, and they come to you." - The Elder said, his eyes locked with Jaune's. - "I want to believe you aren't the man this implies you are, so I hoped to give you guys a heads-up. The evidence is extremely convincing, however."
Jaune's head spun, his mind blank, face as pale as the sheet of paper he held in his hand. His knees grew weak as the ground beckoned him to embrace it as thousands of proverbial needles pierced his face.
"Guys." - Ruby uttered, drawing Crimson Rose in its more compact form.
Jaune looked around to realize twenty or so people, all wearing the same green nondescript uniforms and holding black lances had surrounded them.
"Stop." - Ren promptly placed his hand on Ruby's weapon. - "Let's not add on more trouble."
Jaune realized that even Nora, usually a hothead, had decided to wait this out this time.
It made sense - they were in the middle of a town now crawling with secret agents and military, turrets mounted on the walls and who knows what else there.
These people arrived here to defend a town from a seemingly unbeatable threat that could have destroyed it - and Jaune and everyone, in comparison, Jaune had just spent three days trudging through the forest after a tense fight. Getting thrown at all these walls still hurt.
Anything they'd do would make the situation worse.
He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat -at least they would get to Nemea faster.