August 2nd, 1889

I am reading a report on my latest case, the murder of a man by the name of Sir Edwich Brown. His body was found dead in a large estate by the river Thames. Judging by the size and shape of several stab wounds on his person, it is evident to see that he was stabbed to death by a kitchen knife. I have already discovered the knife used, it was thrown by the killer into the river Thames after the murder. By sheer coincidence, one of my men had seen the knife in the river by Greenwich and had recovered it. Unfortunately, however, there were no traces of fingerprints left on the knife, but the knife had still played a critical role in the discovery of the culprit. I discovered that it was a rather expensive knife, custom-made by the company Sheffield Knives. I had then tracked the buyer of said knife, not to Sir Edwich Brown, however, but to an aristocrat by the name of Charles Cauldwell. After doing some investigating, I discovered that Sir Edwich and this Cauldwell fellow had been jovially good friends and had been seen leaving a bar together on the 29th of July and inferring from the fact that he was found dead in his bedroom the next day, I am exceedingly sure that he was the killer. 'I will probably report my findings to Inspector Lestrade the next day' thought I, 'First, however, I shall get some rest'.

I never got to report my findings, however, as immediately after I stood up, ready to take some rest, I felt a sudden sharp pain in my head. My vision blurred as I fell to my knees, howling in pain. My arms and legs were numb and my stomach was clenched as my body writhed in pain, after what felt like an aeon I collapsed and lost consciousness.

When I came to, I found myself lying in the middle of a large, barren desert. I lay there for a while, just trying to comprehend what had just happened. After, who knows how long, I finally got up and surveyed my surroundings, there were no signs of moisture nearby, and judging by the condition of the vegetation in the area, it had not precipitated for a few months. The sun was still low in the morning so it wasn't too hot, however, I should get into some shade as it is rising fast. There were a few shrubs and large boulders scattered about, which I could take shade in. I decided to continue contemplating the events that had previously taken place after I got into some shade. Once I reached the boulder I had decided to take shade behind, and my thoughts continued for a while. 'That pain, what was it? Was I currently in a coma of some sort? Is this a fever dream?' all these thoughts and more filled my head. My thought process, however, was interrupted when a large bear-like creature lunged towards me. It had pitch-black fur and large, bony spikes on its back and arms, as well as a bone-like mask on its face and glowing red eyes with black smoke emanating from its body. I briskly rolled to the side and avoided its claws, took out my revolver, and proceeded to start shooting at the beast, but it seemed to do nothing but further its rage. It pounced once more, this time, however, I was prepared for the attack and leaped to the side, then fired several more shots at where the liver of a bear should be, still nothing. It turned swiftly and lunged my way, flabbergasting me with its speed. I tried to move out of the way, but I knew it was no use. The angle of the attack was perfect and I was not fast enough to get away in time, so the attack would connect no matter what I did. Just as I prepared for my demise, a majestic silver great sword slammed into the side of the beast, propelling it back. The wielder of said weapon, a pale white man with shaggy grey hair who looked to be in his late thirties., and who seemed to be exceptionally drunk, grunted in annoyance. He rushed forward and proceeded to slash at the beast several more times before decapitating it with one final slash.

He then turned his eyes towards myself, before howling out the words, "Are you trying yourself killed out here, kid!" Suddenly I notice something, my limbs are shorter than they previously were and my frame seems to be more petite than that of a fully grown man should be, then realisation settles in 'I have become a child, how did I not come to this conclusion earlier!' I berate myself. 'Of course I have become less in age, my strut has become shorter, my limbs feel less stiff than is usual and I feel considerably more lively…'. "You deaf, kid?" a hoarse voice asks, breaking me out of my trance. I look up into the oculus of the man whom the words had belonged to, before examining him closely. Overall he was a fairly attractive man. He was tall, a metre eighty, perhaps? He had shaggy, greying black hair, which looked not dissimilar to a pile of feathers. Judging by the rough yet even edges, it was cut rather recently. His skin was pale yet not unnaturally so, making me suppose that he doesn't spend much time outdoors, however, from his physique and his not being very affected by the heat alongside with the fact that he just occurred to be roaming around the desert, I speculate that he does spend much time outdoors, so I had quite a hard time deciding on a concise conclusion. Eventually, I got frustrated and just decided to continue my examination. He had large eyes with red irises, whose colour almost appeared to be fading, yet this was impossible, so I quickly threw away this assumption. He had dry lips, demonstrating the fact that he was slightly dehydrated. His clothing was rather peculiar for venturing into a desert, being attired in a tattered red cloak with a grey dress shirt over it. He is also wearing black dress pants and dress shoes. Judging by his choice of clothing, I am fairly certain that he is at least somewhat wealthy, yet I don't seem to be familiar with the brands he's wearing. A thought suddenly ingrains itself into my head 'Perhaps I somehow got into a different country?' That would explain all the differences, although I'm not quite sure that would've happened. Anyways, I continue my observations. I can easily tell that he is drunk by the way he stands slightly slouched and the hoarseness in his voice. The way he beholds his weapon shows off his overconfidence, cockiness, and experience, however, before I was able to continue with my analysis of the man he interrupted me and said "Hello, kid, that Ursa give you brain damage or some shit?". 'So that's what that demon was called?' thought I. 'The name sounds Latin, however, I do not recall any nation that currently still has Latin as a tongue, could I perhaps have been transferred back to a different era? But if that were true, how would I explain this man's greatsword? I do not recognize its appearance from any of the many history textbooks I have browsed through…'. "I'm still here ya know!", the man abruptly snapped, I inwardly winced at his tone, realising how long I'd taken to answer him. "My apologies, sir. To answer your queries, no, I am not trying to get myself slain, no, I am not deaf, at least I don't think I am, nor do I have brain damage," I responded, however, this answer only seemed to further his irritation. The man quipped back "I know what you're doing, kid." he annoyedly said "Stop it, and what's with that stupid accent of yours? It's fucking annoying!" he wails, outrage apparent. "Gonna answer the question, kid!" the man shouted once more, his American accent evident. I blink a few times, all the shock just too baroque, even for myself. How had I not noticed? I guess it is not that noticeable, but still, even so, I should have paid more attention. Seriously though, what the hell is wrong with me today?

On a different note, all of these perplexing and contradicting facts about this… this place, I guess, have led me to two theories on what is currently occurring, the first is that I have somehow been conveyed into a different world or planet entirely, which is highly improbable, the more likely explanation is that I am experiencing hallucinations from exhaustion, however, that does not explain why everything here feels so palpable…, and this theory, while more feasible, is still quite far fetched, as I do not believe my imagination can create something as chaotic as this… this whatever this is. "Hey uhh, you good, kid?" the man asked in a perturbed tone, all his anger seemingly replaced with concern, "And can you stop staring at me so lifelessly?" he muttered seemingly to himself. Keeping a placid facade, I reply plainly, "I'm fine, sir." This was most certainly incorrect, however, there was no need for him to know that. The man asked once more, distress even more apparent, "Kid, don't lie to me, I can hear it all in your voice, you don't have to lie, you know" he said, clearly trying to soothe me, however, failing spectacularly. Observing that it clearly had not worked, he sighed, "Just my luck." he mumbles defeatedly, The words, however, go into one ear and straight out the other and I take a look at my surroundings to find any form of a distinguishable landmark, none appear. At this point I start to panic marginally, however, I quickly suppress it. What use is panic in a situation like the one I'm currently in? I carry on with attempting to find any semblance of a clue that can point to where I am, yet, still nothing… However, an idea takes formation in my head. Perhaps if I audit the sky, I might be able to find where on the globe I stand. I look up into the never-ending abyss above, and so far nothing I perceive…wait, what is that black mass in the sk-.

With haste, I leap to the side. Somewhere behind me, I can hear the man angrily shrieking, "Fucking Nevermore!" I ignored him however and rolled away in a futile attempt to create distance from the creature now dubbed as 'Nevermore', I then proceeded to nab my revolver and shot it in the wing, however, it did not seem to do much and now its attention was all on me. It launched from where it was brawling with the greatsword-wielding man in an attempt to pierce through me with its razor-sharp beak. I ducked under and launched another shot at its back. It cawed annoyedly before swiftly turning around for another strike. "Nice shot their kid!" the man quipped sarcastically, before springing forward and slicing through its wing, as if it were butter, making it let out a loud caw. I decided to use its brief disorientation to my advantage and leapt through the air, using the blunt end of my revolver to whack it in the eyes. It desperately tries to get up but the man rushes forward finishing it off with one last blow.

Looking down at the boy I couldn't help but be curious. He was nothing like anyone I've ever seen, and that was saying something. The boy didn't seem to have an aura, yet when he was attacked, he fought back. If not for him I might not have gotten that Nevermore killed so fast. His quick thinking bought me just enough time to land the killing blow. What's more, he kept spacing out for some reason. The way he spoke was off too, at first I thought he was trying to piss me off, but I think that's just how he speaks. Even his accent is weird, I've never heard one quite like it, but the closest thing was a Vale accent, yet Vale was nowhere near here, he should know, it took him 2 weeks to get here. I could also tell that the kid was playing a facade and although it was a pretty good one, there were cracks in it. I should try to help his mental state recover as he seemed pretty shaken up and looked on the edge of a mental breakdown. Overall though, the boy hugely impressed me, if I had the right to I might have just offered him a place at Beacon for his courage alone... it's not like Ozpin would give me that amount of power though. I should really check on the kid though, after all, fighting off a Nevermore isn't an easy feat. This kid's got some good self-preservation skills to only get a few scratches on him, unlike a certain blondie I know of. I should still ask him though, after all, I didn't see the beginning of his scuffle with the Ursa from earlier and his injuries could be under his cloak, actually, why would anyone wear a cloak in Vacuo… nevermind that, checking on the kid has higher priority. "Kid you good there" I yelled, after a few seconds the kid responded, "Yes all good sir", eyes still staring distantly at where the Nevermore used to be, it's almost like he'd never seen a flying Grimm before, heck he looked like he'd never seen a Grimm until now! No use dwelling on that though, I rushed towards the kid to make an attempt to check on his injuries, which seemed to return him back to reality. "Sir, there is no need for you to evaluate my well-being, it just gave me a scratch on the arm, nothing more." the kid responded, huh didn't expect the kid to notice my intentions, but in hindsight, the kid seemed a lot more intelligent then he looks. I responded, "Doesn't matter, that still doesn't explain why you're in the middle of nowhere, and if I hadn't fle…I mean walked over here to head to the nearest town, you would have been dead by now." Shit, I almost slipped up and said I was capable of flight, no need for a random ass kid knowing that I can turn into a crow. He didn't respond, still staring at the ground in front of him. I sighed, then proceeded to ask again, "Answer me, kid." This time the kid seemed to hear. He turned around and asked, "My apologies sir, what would your question be?" trying to be polite, yet somehow coming off as irritated. I repeated my question and the kid answered vaguely, "I was paraphrasing something, however as you can see, I no longer seem to be." That response puzzled me even more, but I decided not to ask. I sighed, before exclaiming, "Right, let's get you to a settlement shall we." To this, the child merely nodded…

This is going to be a long journey…

'I just wanted to laugh. I didn't know why, I just wanted to laugh so badly in that moment."."Umm kid, did you lose a few screws in that head of yours?". My head jerked up at the abrupt noise. Internally I berate myself, 'I need to get myself together. This is shocking information and all, but I'm a detective, I need to be able to handle this without acting like a primary schooler who's just been told hoe he came into existence...', "Kid, what the hell are you thinking about right now!", the man just about screeches out. I steady the rate of my breaths before proceeding to reply, "Nothing sir", trying to keep my voice steady. He sighs defeatedly before proceeding to query, "Alright, can I know your name at least?". I briefly contemplate whether or not to tell him my truthful name, eventually I decide that no harm may come of it, and reply, "Sherlock Holmes, sir." He stretches his arm out to shake mine, which I accept, before responding with his own name, "The name's Qrow." He then pulls back, before gesturing for me to follow him. I take a few deep breaths, and then proceed to follow as requested.

Later in the day, sometime during the evening, we set up camp by a small boulder to get rested. The camp itself was nothing fancy, afterall, neither of us were prepared for this trip. If I was in the right mindset, I likely would've immediately been suspicious of the fact that this 'Qrow' fellow was unequipped with camping supplies, due to the fact that he had previously stated that he was walking to the nearest town. So far I had not spotted any signs of a town nearby, likely implicating that it would be a few days before we reached one. If he had been planning on making the trip there, he seemingly should know that he would have to camp several days, would he not? However, as previously made apparent, I was certainly not in the right mindset, so I did not notice at the time. I only realised after later analysing what had happened at a later date. Anyhow, where was I? Setting up camp, Qrow had asked me to try and start a fire. This task was relatively simple as we had encountered quite a number of flint pebbles during the day. As I was currently pondering on it, I noticed that my luck seemed excruciatingly good that day. Sure, there could be an argument against such with my collapsed and transport into unfamiliar domain, however, I had been lucky enough to be attacked twice, yet not injured severely even once, and I had just so happened to be in an area which had a numerous amounts of flint, which, I may remark, is not necessarily common sight in a dessert. Could that have been a coincidence, perchance? I sighed, deciding to continue my contemplation once I was in a better mindset. Looking up I hoped for the familiar sight of the crescent moon, shining dimly in the sky. What I instead saw, not only was absolutely nothing like what I hoped for, but was absolutely outrageous.

In that second, I would've expected to feel flabbergasted, perplexed, utterly bamboozled even. Yet none of those emotions came, all that came was a certain sense of defeat. I don't know why I felt that way, yet in that moment all my years of detective work felt like nothing, and quite frankly this was an emotion that I adn't felt often before. 'Of course the moon couldn't be normal, because why would it be' was all I had the spirit to think. I just couldn't believe it. I was prepared for there to be several moons, I was prepared for there to be misshaped moons, but who for the love of god expects the moon to be shattered. "Whoa, kid, you alright there.", a voice interrupts my thoughts. I look to face the speaker. Qrow looks back, concern evident in his eyes. I sigh, before answering, "Yes, I'm fine sir." I then proceed to seat myself firmly on the ground, by the fire. Qrow proceeds to do the same on the other side, his cloak catching on fire as he does so, yet I barely notice, staring into the fire.

All I could think right now was, "Why me?"

I sighed heavily. We've been sitting here for half an hour now, the boy should have calmed down already, but still… I don't really want to interrogate the kid, especially after he's been through… Still, I have no choice, the boy has been acting really suspicious and it's better to be safe than sorry. The way he looked angrily at the moon earlier though… No! Snap out of it Qrow, just get this over with quick and easy. I sighed again, jeez, I sound like an emo now. "Kid, can I ask you some questions?", I spurt out before I can convince myself otherwise. The kid looked up and responded, "Sure.", if not hesitantly. "Where ya from kid?" The kid takes a while before answering, "Where are you from?" I understand that he is trying to dodge the questions so I move on in a rapid paste, "Why are you in the middle of nowhere by yourself?". The kid tenses up before levelling his expression and responding, "Why am I not?". Giving the kid no breathing room I hurl questions at the kid.

"How old are you?

"Old enough"

"Why were so surprised by that Grimm"

"Why was I not?"

…

And so it continued that way for about 10 minutes before I reached the final question I wanted to ask. I paused awkwardly, before slowly asking, "Do you know where your parents are?". At the sincerity of the question, the kid answered, "They are no longer with me." I smile at the kid and then proceed to apologise. "Sorry bout that, kid, had to make sure you were trustworthy." The kid just nods to that. Welp, I guess I should try and lighten the mood a bit.

"Well, Sherlock was it? What's your favourite fairytale…"