Chapter 14: Watering the Wilted Roses of Pieria


BEDLAM

Tuesday Morning

Of Blake's team, Ruby was the last to come down for breakfast. He watched on Neo's scroll and listened to their chatter as they ate. The blonde, Yang, was concerned that Ruby didn't eat much compared to the others.

Probably because she filled up on cookies.

The other team was there, too. Nora complained about being stuck in the house. She had no idea what a real cage was, what confinement really meant. So what that she'd had to sit in the nice house for a few weeks? Adam and his people had endured so much worse. Nobody was keeping her there. She chose this for herself.

He returned his attention to his work at the crafting station. Possibly his finest work to date, his scroll was securely in the handle of Wilt and the weight wasn't too wonky. From the way Blake had lounged around for the past few days he felt like he would have plenty more time to adjust it if needed.

Qrow, Ruby's huntsman uncle, came down the stairs.

"Oh look, he's finally woken up." Nora muttered to the Schnee, the pair of them having busied themselves cleaning their weapons near the camera's hiding spot so that their whispers were clearly audible.

"Shhh, don't start like that around Ruby!" Weiss snapped back under her breath.

"You promised that we'd be able to leave the house soon, but that was days ago." Nora spoke up, directing the question at the house's physically eldest resident. Bedlam watched the screen again, intrigued by the older human huntsman's relative sobriety. He was walking without wobbling – a good day for him. Nora folded up her weapon and put it into its case. Jaune polished his sword while sitting in a chair, and Blake leaned against the wall by the stairs.

"Hey, you're welcome to walk out those doors into the streets any time you want, just remember what I said about the lower levels..." Qrow slurred loudly without looking at the girl, then stopped himself and groaned, massaging his head before continuing, "sorry... but yeah, we've got a plan in the works but it's taking a while because he was recovering." Qrow said to the assembly as he slumped down into the unoccupied couch. Bedlam turned up the volume on the scroll a bit. "Knowledge has to be taken to somewhere safe, and Mistral no longer can provide that. It's probably not the worst idea for you all if you decide to go back to your families or whatever lives you want to lead. You could hang on here for Haven or head back to what's left of Vale... Oz and I can manage it from here. Nobody can say that you kids haven't put in enough-"

"No. I'm coming with you." Ruby said instantly, without hesitation.

"Me too," Jaune seconded, his voice filled with a morose determination, looking at the golden cross guard of his sword.

"I'm not leaving Ruby," Yang added, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back on the other couch sitting beside Nora and Jaune's other male teammate. "If she hangs out with you too much she'll spend all her time playing video games and eating cookies while you chase skirts."

"What's wrong with video games and cookies?" Ruby said in the background.

Weiss piped up, "neither am I."

"Also, don't diss the combat-skirt, sis." Ruby continued, but Bedlam was certain only he paid her words any attention.

"Renny and I have nowhere else to go, and we want to see this through." Said the voice of Nora.

"I'm done running away from people who need me," Blake said from the background.

Sounds like you're fine with running away from me, though, Bedlam thought. At least it represented what might be considered a positive development in his darling's character if he didn't know her better than that. Things would take a turn for the worse soon enough for Blake, and then she'd be back to her old habits. Would the humans have the strength to keep loving her after she left them again, would she manage to earn her place at their feet back by coming to their rescue like she had at Haven? Bedlam didn't think so. Eventually she would realize he was the only one who could deal with her weakness. Only he was able to take her constant disappointments. Only he could take care of her. Eventually she would find her way back to his side, and if she was smart she would do it sooner rather than after he'd had to carry through on his promise to destroy every thing she held precious in her heart besides him. If she thought dismembering was the worst he had in store for her little friends, she was sorely mistaken, but if she came back to him now he could renege on his promise to ruin her little world.

Qrow nodded in a resigned way, as if he had expected the unanimous response but had felt like he had to offer them the chance to get away from Blake anyways. "Alright then. I'll go arrange travel for us at the train station."

"Can't we just fly there like we did to get here?" Nora asked.

"With dust at a premium and the military on full alert in Mistral, fuel is getting hard to come by. Air travel is restricted to military ops only." Qrow explained. "The balance of power is adjusting to the vacuum left by Haven's decommission, so the local's aren't lending out their toys right now."

"We don't count as an important op?" Ruby asked.

"None of us are ranking Mistral military... most of you weren't even born or lived in Mistral." The boy Nora identified as Renny admitted. "Where are we taking it?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, there's only one Kingdom still standing that has the power to protect it from Salem's forces." Qrow said, "only one Kingdom that still has the dust and weaponry to stand up to the grimm in a fight."

"So, we need to take the relic to Atlas?" Ruby responded, almost eagerly. Like she actually wanted to go to Solitas.

All eyes turned to look at Bedlam's spy camera, or so he thought until he heard Weiss complain, "you've got to be joking?" Apparently the Schnee didn't feel like going home. Maybe she was concerned that her father would throw her capable, strong allies into a pit to scrounge for dust crystals; it was sort of his style.

Not wanting to go back to Solitas, either? If I wasn't so concerned about Blake, I'd probably feel dirty for having anything in common with a Schnee.

"I mean, bright side: we finally get out of this house!"

Weiss sighed dramatically and slouched forward.

Even Qrow, having proposed the idea, didn't seem enthusiastic. "Well trust me, I'm not crazy about it either. And without the Spring Maiden here to seal the relic back in its vault it's our best option."

Relic.

Relic?

Relic!

They had said relic, and Bedlam sprung into motion as he realized what that meant. He fumbled with his augmented weapon, unfurled his scroll and pressed the record function. Brazen would want to hear this for himself since, while Bedlam had no doubts about his ability to faithfully convey the gist of what Blake and her companions were talking about, his twin would want as much raw unbiased data as he could get.

Renny and Qrow were discussing the closed borders of Atlas, and the possibility of getting through via the northern city of Argus. I remember Argus. So many humans willing to look the other way when bandits brought 'criminal' faunus to be sent to Atlas mines on work-release programs. Their entire city was founded on the ties between the humans of Atlas and Mistral, but it was built on the backs and bones of my people.

Blake suddenly slid forward, "I mean, we do have the missing heiress to the Schnee Dust Company." For a moment, Bedlam's heart lit up with hope that maybe Blake was somehow planning the long-con to get close to the Schnees, or to use Weiss as leverage over her father.

"'Ex-heiress', actually." Weiss corrected.

"True, true, but if there's a chance of reward money I say we go for it." Yang said with a grin at the Schnee.

Blake's partner probably could use the lien, too, by the look of that expensive prosthetic. Bedlam considered. Clearly Atlesian tech, which was more irksome considering how many faunus slaves Adam had seen working in the mines with missing limbs after brutal industrial accidents. Where were the golden arms and legs for the faunus? Blake, how can you stand there beside your partner and ignore the injustice tacitly expressed on the stump I gave her for you?

I'll hurt them all for you, my love.

"Hopefully the first option will suffice." A young boy wearing orange suspenders, leaning on a familiar cane, hobbled into the scene. That cane... Bedlam racked his mind for where he had seen it before while the boy continued to speak.

Blake spoke up, drawing back his attention to what was being said. "Great. As long as that thing's out in the open its power could fall into the wrong hands."

Or, onto my hand? Bedlam joked silently to himself, then realized where he had seen that cane before. He had seen that cane right before he had found the Relic of Choice under Beacon. It had been on the corpse of the dead headmaster; he'd messed with it and it had done some mechanical thing. The boy must be some relative of the headmaster of Beacon, which would explain why he would be travelling with the rest of them.

Jaune then asked the boy what the relic did. Bedlam made sure his scroll was recording everything clearly.

"Of course," said the boy, "the Relic of Knowledge has a wonderful and incredibly dangerous ability: its user can ask any question, and the lamp will provide an answer." The statement was met with impressed astonishment from the other children in the room, including Blake.

Blake is intrigued by the Relic of Knowledge. Maybe I can use that to my advantage?

"However, it's not without drawbacks. The lamp cannot tell you of events that have yet to happen, and it will only ever answer three questions... every one hundred years."

He recorded the rest of the plot exposition dumped on Blake and her friends until their dispersal upstairs to pack and prepare to leave. He left the weapon shop and began his swift hustle back to TorchQuik while his mind swirled with half-formed ideas and schemes to use what he had learned to his advantage. Even if the Relic of Knowledge's power had already been used up for the century, the fact that Blake wanted to protect it was reason enough for him to want it – if only to spite her, bait her into a trap, or force her compliance. Once he took it he could figure out the best way to use it for the advancement of his purpose. In the end, the glowing lamp was just another of her many weaknesses, begging to be exploited in order to bring her crawling back to him. More urgently, at the end of their discussion Qrow had gone to arrange for their travel in a couple days on a train to Argus. Bedlam used his scroll to check departure plans from the station, noting with no concern that Dominic's incoming ship was still out of contact range, and determined that the earliest Blake's teams could get transport on a train would be the day after tomorrow aboard the Argus Limited. He had a feeling that they'd be on that train, so that meant he'd have to be on it, too. The next train for Argus wasn't due to leave for another week; it was a long, dangerous trip along the coastline.

Silly Blake, he thought, don't you remember that trains have a terrible track record when we're involved?


BRAZEN

As much fun as caring for the involuntarily invalid Neopolitan might be, Brazen had other things to do, too. During one of his latest acquisition's frequent naps, he sent Hazel a text message asking to meet; no longer concerned about his aura or missing copy, now was the time to revisit his conversation with the human about his organization's plans and next steps. Maybe Hazel knew about Cinder's likely locations if she had to find a hole to crawl into to lick her wounds. Maybe he'd heard from Cinder directly already since last they'd spoken!

Brazen left Neo in the care of Dominic, who promised to try not to let her expire. His lack of enthusiasm for the task notwithstanding, Brazen rushed off in his original clothes to his rendezvous with Hazel. They chose to meet in a public park at noon. Open enough to allow for a variety of escape routes should either one betray the other, public enough to make each hesitate to create a commotion, but private enough to have a conversation without being overheard by the locals. When Brazen made it to the park, he quickly spotted Hazel sitting on a bench. He had put on a shawl and a grey wig that gave him the appearance of a down-on-his luck vagabond, but even hunched over he was still a large man. The various human mothers kept their distance from the stranger, and kept shooting wary glances at him whilst their children frolicked on the colourful play structures. A flock of gulls and pigeons surrounded him, devoid of the concerns held by the human parents, cawing out greedily for crumbs of bread that he occasionally tossed onto the ground. Brazen wound his way through the birds and sat down beside his contact.

"Did anyone follow you?"

"I don't think anyone knows I'm still here. The law was focused mainly on the Fang's headquarters last time I checked. I wasn't followed here."

"Good."

They sat in silence for a moment, Hazel throwing out another handful of bread to the shrieking avians.

"Have you heard from Cinder?"

"No. I wouldn't hold out hope for her and think you're wasting your time." Hazel replied testily. He clearly still had some hangups about his feminine associate's poor planning that had led to their rout at the school; hangups which all Adams could relate to. "If she is still alive, then I'll let her sort out her own messes. I've my own issues at hand. I made contact with a local criminal information broker named Lil' Miss Malachite. She has a bunch of pseudo-huntsmen and similar rogues that operate a spy ring and mercenary outfit in Mistral. Since Tyrian and I wiped out the majority of local licensed huntsmen working for the school, they want to fill that niche. She charged me a hefty fee to get me information on where Oz and Qrow's children had gone after the battle ended and what sort of defences they have."

Brazen, with great personal restraint, managed not to snort derisively at that. I could have told you that for free, he thought. Then again, Hazel was less stealthy than Adam Taurus. He couldn't exactly go up to spy on their house himself. Hopefully Salem paid her minions' expenses."If my sources are correct, their house is guarded by Belladonna's faunus militia at all hours, making another attack on them pointless. Especially without Emerald or Cinder. Why do you care about them?"

"I have reasons, but the only one I will tell you is that I have a personal stake in making sure Oz dies horribly." Hazel turned to Brazen and leaned towards the bull faunus, "I'll tell you his dirty little secret, and, unlike Malachite, I'll do so free-of-charge. Better for all of us aligned against him to know the truth. I might not have agreed with your bloody coup, but I wouldn't stop such methods from being used against Oz."

"So what, I'm your attack animal now? What is the truth and who is Oz?"

"He's not human. He's a soul parasite, leaping from host to host over the centuries, treating human and faunus as pawns. Pieces in his grand game. That's why we used the black queen chess piece as our logo for the attack on Beacon. To show that we're more than his pawns. Salem was cursed by the gods; her mission is to stop Ozma and bring peace to this world. He made my sister believe that she was fighting for humanity, when the truth was that he was just training her to be a meat shield between his host body and Salem's quest. Just like he's done to all of those kids, including the Belladonna girl you obsess over. I pity them, but I can't let him use my pity for his pawns against me or my dream for the future."

Brazen listened quietly and thought about what Hazel had said. After a while, he decided to ask a single question. "How do you plan to stop him?"

Hazel sighed, "I can't. Whenever his host dies, he just leaps to a new one some time later. Cinder killed his host at Beacon, who you would know as Headmaster Ozpin."

Brazen remembered the corpse in the bowels of Beacon, right before he had stumbled onto finding the vending machine that would change his life so suddenly.

"He's found a new one remarkably fast this time, from what I know. Salem has never been able to determine how his soul finds a new host, since he's not keen on sharing that with anyone, so we haven't been able to devise a device to inhibit his inevitable recoveries. It's always a male, and tends to end up in a position of power in human society. Maybe there is a way to use the speed with which he found his latest, young host against him. I'm not sure if he has ever inhabited a host as young as the current boy before. He's even younger than my sister was when Ozpin sent her to her death..."

Brazen gave the man a moment to wallow in his dark thoughts about his dead sibling. His mind wandered dangerously near to empathy, and he found himself remembering how he felt when his aura shattered. That sudden, unexpected concern that one of his newly created siblings was hurt, possibly killed. To have someone so closely related to oneself suddenly risked, harmed. Adam had thought that he had known that feeling each time he witnessed the suffering of other faunus, but never having known true family it seemed Adam's sympathetic pain that had drawn him into the White Fang had been dim in comparison to that which Hazel bore.

Soul parasites and old grudges aside, I still have more pressing business that occupies my thoughts. "Do you think this Malachite woman would be able to help me track down Cinder?"

"Possibly. If anyone could, it would be her." Hazel harrumphed, "she might not help you, though. I'm a known outlaw, which she accepts as a typical sort of customer. You're something else. Terrorist, revolutionary, and faunus on top of that. She wouldn't take kindly to your kind, and I'm not even sure which of those labels she would discriminate against first. She'd abhor the first because as a criminal she doesn't like the competition. The second since if anyone is going to change the status quo, she'd want it to be herself and for her benefit. To top it all off, her business is one of the few I've seen in the city that still has a sign refusing service to faunus."

Brazen growled with unabashed anger, "you're not really selling me on her, by reputation." Adam Taurus tended to avoid dealing with overt human racists with lien when his blade was at hand.

"She'd hate your guts and charge you an obscene amount, but if anyone can track down Cinder it would be her, so you might have to accept the stain of associating with one such as her. Now that the school is shut down, her gang is one of the biggest players in the city. What a way for a constitutional monarchy to crumble..." Hazel replied coolly, "but since you seem determined to find Cinder, I think you'll bend your moral stance enough to work with her for a while, at least until you get what you want. The real question is why do you care?"

That nagging question again.

Why Cinder? What was it about finding her that had made him, him? Suddenly an Adam distinct from the original, created by the magical power of the Relic of Choice?

It was because she was more approachable than Salem. It was because he admired her for the power she wielded as much as he was intrigued by its potential. It was because she owed him for what he had lost after they were defeated at Haven.

"You're the one we need. Your skill. Your ability to lead those beneath you. You're an exceptionally valuable man, Adam." It was because she had realized in him the strength he had always known was there. Vindication. He was special.

Where Sienna had faltered, Cinder had followed through. Violence was the answer, but Sienna just hadn't thought big enough.

"We could have gone to anyone for help, but we chose you, Adam Taurus." She'd needed him. She'd chosen him as her partner to destroy the wretched edifices of human civilization.

Where Blake had turned and fled, Cinder had returned and led him to a great victory.

"I made an agreement to work with Cinder." Brazen said, "I believe in keeping promises. If she's still alive I want to be first in line to claim what I deserve - and I will, because she still needs me. My White Fang might be in tatters, but our revolution is far from finished."

Hazel grunted.

"I will see whatever power Cinder has used for the benefit of my fight, or I will see proof of her demise. Unless you can do anything near the level she is capable of..." Brazen stared down Hazel, waiting. Hazel didn't meet the stare, instead tossing several more handfuls of crumbs at the birds on the ground. Hazel looked like he was struggling internally, his lips pinched tightly against one another; as if he wanted desperately to say something pertinent but was inclined not to say. Brazen wouldn't hold such secret-keeping against his burly human ally, though. The new information about Blake's headmaster was progress enough to warrant his explanation of his interest in Cinder.

"No, my abilities are not anything on par with what Cinder is capable of," Hazel admitted. Not too proud to say that, Brazen admired the man for knowing what he was and what he was capable of. "Though she is still far from reaching her full potential, both in terms of power and planning."

The two of them looked at the flock of birds at their feet for a minute in silence.

"So what will you do now?"

"Now I have to find out what Oz's next move is. Right now he seems to be content to stay put. If I'm going to redeem myself to Salem, I have to give her actionable information on her foe's agenda. So I've paid Malachite for that information, too. She told me to visit her again next Monday, since she hadn't heard anything yesterday about Oz's plans. He's not going to stay in Mistral forever." Hazel said, "I'm going to head back out to the ship to let the kids know the timeline is going to depend on that information, then I might hang out outside of the city. If you need to contact me, I'll be back in Mistral for next Monday to meet Malachite."

"I like that you trust me not to betray your plans," Brazen said.

"Who would you betray me to?" Hazel said, his tone almost approaching a bit of a jovial chuckle, "the faunus have cast you aside after you lost against the Belladonnas, the humans see you as a symbol of terror and fear. My faction is the only home you have left, really. I'll say it again: you should just come with me. I won't press the matter, but if you change your mind you know where our airship is hidden."

"When you put it like that, you make me feel unpopular," Brazen complained. The man was brutal, but at least honest, in his critiques. It was a somewhat likeable trait. At least Hazel tells me straight what he thinks. Brazen thought of Neo. She'd been pretty direct with what she wanted, too, even if what she wanted and what Brazen needed were more difficult to compromise.

Hazel stood up, causing the birds to shuffle backwards with concern at the rising giant figure. "Try to stay out of harm's way, Taurus. We'll meet again, I imagine."

Brazen nodded. "I'll contact you on Monday of next week, then."


The vertical city of Mistral is serviced by a set of large freight elevators, used to carry goods and people from one level of the city to another. They tended to be crowded, even in the darkening twilight as Brazen rode it back down from the nicer upper levels (which had amenities such as parks) to the shadowy lower level.

He thought about Hazel's words: looking through the bustling human city on his own for Cinder was getting him nowhere. This Malachite person seemed like the ideal candidate to hasten his success. Adam Taurus had grown accustomed to having his followers at hand to perform information-gathering such as this; with the Fang having deserted him, he would have to pay for the information he needed to move forward. Hazel's warning about the information broker's racism was probably well-founded, but altogether unwarranted. He would simply have his multicoloured companion ask for information in his stead, once her cold cleared up and loyalty was assured (or at least, enough to convince him that she wouldn't kill him until after they caught up with Cinder). If nothing else, she could at least be trusted to follow up on the lead. He stepped off the dimly-lit elevator and began walking towards the warehouse, when suddenly his nose picked up a scent.

Like scorched earth. Like the smell of fresh charcoal in the tundra.

Cinder.

He spun around and scanned the nearby crowd as they shuffled off of the elevator. Doubts crept into his mind, slowly eroding his certainty that he had actually detected the scent at all. Maybe he had just been thinking so much about Cinder, the scent-memory had paired itself with his thoughts. The elevator sealed its gates and the massive gears and pulleys began groaning as it began its ascent back up the mountain's core. Maybe he had just smelled a nearby cooking pot. He began to shrug it off as his mind having just been so occupied with finding Cinder that he had imagined it. He closed his eyes to clear his mind and inadvertently the aura-sense, that Bedlam had recently honed by being blindfolded, activated.

There.

On the elevator, going up. Fuck. Of course he smelled her getting on; if she had gotten off with him he would have smelled her on the way down.

How could he have been so stupid?

It was definitely her standing behind a grumpy-looking androgynous human in overalls. A light-brown cloak with a sash that revealed her figure, dark brown hood over her head, but most importantly a black hand that passerby might dismiss as a glove in the low-light. His keen senses recognized the grimm augmentation his ally had sported after her victory at Beacon. He remembered how she smelled the day that she had laid waste to his wilderness camp. It had to be her, but to his mounting fury he had no way of discreetly reaching her. Having to operate in the shadows, being discreet... it wasn't supposed to have to be like this anymore, but here he was. Sure, he could climb up the elevator's cord and grapple his way up to the rising platform or parkour his way up to her, but there were a lot of people – armed guards watching over the critical city infrastructure – that would see him do it . He'd reveal his identity, the authorities would get involved, and Cinder would probably either flee or kill him for ruining both of their disguises. His bet was on flee, which would leave him alone against whatever the humans of Mistral had on hand to throw at him to kill or subdue a wanted terrorist.

Nothing Mistral had was anything that he was afraid of, but also nothing that would be productive to waste his time with. Why should I waste time killing humans one by one, when by finding Cinder I can get her powers to aid me in breaking them in one fell stroke?

So, like a civilian, he had to wait for the other elevator to make it down so that he could board it instead. While he waited, he tried to determine where she would go. Some new hideout? A stash for weapons, dust, lien? Maybe she would head to the school, or maybe she'd go straight after team RWBY? He sent a text to Cinder's scroll, but that was as useful as it had been for the past few days. Either she'd lost her scroll in the fight at Haven, or she was ignoring him. Since the text listed itself as being undelivered, he'd assume the former. He sent Hazel a text, asking him if he knew of where Cinder had been staying in Mistral. After an infuriating delay the response came that Hazel had already destroyed the place where Cinder and her assistants had holed up in the city so as to better prevent any evidence they'd left there from falling into Ozpin's hands.

By the time he got to the upper level, the fresh mountain breeze had dispersed any lingering scent she may have left in her wake. He would have to rely on his wits to track her.

Hazel didn't know where RWBY was without paying the information dealer, so it is unlikely that she went there, he thought. Of course, maybe that was a bad assumption? Bedlam is over there anyways, so maybe he might catch Cinder if she goes there. Or maybe Bedlam had just put the spy camera in place and headed back to the warehouse like he was supposed to. Cinder is a bit hot-headed at times, would she let her desire to kill Ruby get in the way of common sense like it did for her plan to attack Haven?

Probably, Brazen concluded upon reflection. Despite that, he still felt confident that Cinder wouldn't know where her enemies were. So that just left him with the school or a place that Hazel had burned down.

If Hazel burnt down her hideout upon first doubling back into the city, that would have been something akin to a week ago. Surely Cinder would have realized by now that the place was destroyed, Brazen reasoned. The only way that she'd go there would be if she was if she'd been living under a rock since her defeat. So chances are she doesn't know where RWBY is, and knows her previous holdout is lost, which just leaves...

He went to Haven Academy, where he was impressed by the state of the campus: they had made full repairs. Sure, there hadn't been that much damage to the grounds, but they had put in the effort and now the campus looked like it had the afternoon before the battle. Brazen was not impressed by the lack of his quarry. No sign or scent of her anywhere. Eventually he was herded away from the school by a group of security guards, who told him that unless he was a prospective student looking to join the second semester for non-huntsmen students – such as for people who merely wanted to study grimm, design weaponry, or fill other non-combat specializations – he would have to leave the premises.

Brazen cursed his luck, having been so close to Cinder without realizing it. He wondered if she had gone to her ruined base, or to see team RWBY. Maybe Bedlam would run into her if he was still spying on them in person; he could at least count on himself to report such an encounter faithfully. Or maybe Cinder had gone to some other, fourth location, that he had not considered. If only he had some clue as to where she had gone, what she had been doing since the battle. "Well, at least I have something solid to report to Salem." He muttered to himself. He didn't particularly relish the thought of going back down into the rank lair he had left the seer grimm in. He bought a few extra bars of soap on his way there, knowing that he would have to use at least one full bar to clean the stink off of himself afterwards. He needed to relocate the seer to somewhere less loathsome, for his own sake.

"Salem." He called out as he casually dropped down into the sewer with his weaponry drawn. He sensed the tendrils of the creature stutter, then retreat back into its floating mass where it hovered near the ceiling of the cesspool. He wondered if the creature would have tried to strangle him if he hadn't called out its mistress' name. With Wilt in hand, he was confident that it would have had a much more difficult time in getting its tentacles wrapped around him like their previous encounter.

Her voice echoed in the sewer tunnel, "Adam Taurus. You have returned. What news from Mistral?" Her tone sounded languid, perhaps bored. For a moment he hoped that he had not taxed her patience in taking so long in returning to face her and her wretchedly-limbed mouthpiece.

"I detected Cinder, though I was not able to reach her. I am ... certain that she lives, and is in the city still."

Salem narrowed her eyes at him, then turned to her side. Strange lights flared beyond the scope of what he could see through the grimm orb, though he could see her mumbling to herself and concentrating. The lights faded and she turned back to regard Brazen with her full attention. "Excellent. If Cinder is still in play then our plans may still succeed. I was able to ascertain that she lives on my own, but I still need a deeper understanding of her current state. What was she doing when you interacted with her?"

"As I am, she was in disguise to hide from the human authorities who have returned to the city after sweeping through the White Fang headquarters. Her scent is unmistakable, and her grimm hand was visible." He wondered if her grimm hand was how Salem knew that Cinder was still alive. It made sense. "She went into the upper reaches of the city on the elevator. I attempted to follow her, but lost her trail. I searched the repaired school for any sign of her, but found none. I didn't think she would know of Blake's team's location, though if she did travel there I may know about it via my own informants once I return to my current base."

"Keep an eye on the school and the huntresses. For the latter, keep your eye open for any strange or unusual objects that they seem to be overly protective of."

Brazen nodded, "Hazel continues to linger in town while Mercury tends to Emerald's wounds at their airship. He has recommended a local information broker that may prove useful in tracking down Cinder."

"Be wary of such a person. You are not the only one seeking Cinder in Mistral, Adam. The humans have tasted the sweetness of victory after Haven stayed standing, and are hungry for more. Both dear Cinder and yourself will attract a full response from their highest authorities if detected now."

"True, but as long as I'm offering lien to the broker to know when she has been found then I'll at least be in position to ensure that she is not captured by the military – or at least that she does not spend enough time in their prison to develop an opinion on the dining options there." Brazen half-smiled, not yet confident of her approval for the jest." As for my own safety, I am taking pains to ensure that my dealings with the humans can be done through a reliable intermediary."

Neo would be reliable, after some training and convincing.

"Can you shrink this creature again for transportation? I've recently changed my preference of hideout; walking across the city is a hassle. Especially with the law getting thicker." With Kuchinashi safe and the White Fang headquarters dealt with, he had noticed a marked increase in the local police presence. Especially in the lower areas. Coming to the sewer, he had seen more police in the faunus slums than ever before, than in any other neighbourhood. It slightly bothered him that the faunus didn't even have the good sense to feel concerned about it. No, they seem to be overjoyed to have the armed human presence increase around them. It would probably bother Dominic more, but between the two of them they would both see where it would inevitably lead. When Ghira left, when things were safe and good for humanity again, their police forces would be perfectly positioned to crack down on the faunus to 'teach them their place'. There was a reason why the faunus neighbourhood was at the bottom of the city, and that reason was human design.

Salem closed her eyes in concentration and the creature began to wrinkle, the tendrils retracting into its orb-like head.

"Hazel offered me passage with him and the children to you, if I was so inclined."

"Unless you have Cinder with you, continue to search and stay with her for the time being. Her importance is vital to our plans to overthrow the human kingdoms." The creature's body continued to shrink, and so Salem spoke one last time before the orb crumpled flat; "I hope to hear more from you soon. Your loyalty and resourcefulness continues to please me." Her praise caused Brazen's chest to swell and his mind to relax; so long as she saw him as an asset, he would have her support. With everything he had to offer, it wouldn't be too difficult to stay on her good side.

Brazen caught the creature, now like a deflated balloon, in his hand. It felt odd to be holding the monster in his palm like this. A mix of power and disgust. He folded it up and stuffed it in the zippered pocket on the chest of his jacket, since he never really kept anything in there. Despite the risks, he would have to take it to Torchquik. Without water, it wasn't much of a threat. If it could collect data for Salem even while dehydrated, he could overcome that risk by putting it in one of the offices. A door and a wall between him and the creature should ensure his privacy. Once he needed to contact Salem again, he'd simply resuscitate it in the bathroom. It was a solid setup, allowing easy communication with Salem if needed while also keeping her in the dark regarding his location and company. Best that she didn't know where his hideout was, or who he was with. That applied to both his clones and Neopolitan; just like the seer, he wanted to keep those secrets close to his chest until he knew more about Salem.

Is the enemy of my enemy my friend, my ally, or my rival?


DOMINIC

"So how was your day? What did you do?"

He'd spent the day alternating between checking the local news on his scroll, exercising in the warehouse, and making sure Neo wasn't dead.

The news was completely focused on Kuchinashi: the return of Rothy and that caravan, the pride the people there took in surviving such a large grimm assault with so few casualties – because they were after my relic – which brought up the humans' spirits, the efforts underway to repair and rebuild better than before. Thankfully there didn't seem to be any more interest about the mysterious benefactor who protected the train of escapees. No more articles confusing him with the bandit woman; whether or not the mistake worked in his favour or not, it still emasculated him to see.

He'd tried to make an effort to stay in peak physical form by doing some acrobatics in the warehouse rafters, some cardio, and practising with Wilt. That last bit was far less effective without a decent sparring partner.

Neo might have been able to fill that role, if she were either A) Trustworthy or B) Mobile. To his irritation she was still content to just lie there wrapped up in bed like a sponge, happy to be fed with pudding and fruit when he went in to check on her. He kept his visits into her chamber brief and silent, hoping that his disguise and the sheer impossibility of his situation would let her believe him to be a faunus ally of Adam Taurus. He tried not to think of it as demeaning to his self-esteem.

"Nothing much," Dominic responded, noting Bedlam's drawn weapon as he entered the warehouse and made his query. Right, he's still suspicious about the human's illusions. "Luro was first in the throne room."

Bedlam sighed with relief and stowed his sword.

"Actually, you may as well keep it drawn: I could use a sparring partner and it's not like the human's been up for that." Dominic said, drawing his own sword quickly, "how was your day?"

Bedlam moved to the desk, leaving his sword in Blush, where he took out Neo's scroll and set it up so that he could keep an eye on it while they sparred. "I got the camera in position and learned some very important stuff about... everything that the two of you need to hear. I guess if you need me for sparring practice that Brazen is still out and about?" Dominic nodded to confirm that. "After I set up the camera – which was ridiculously easy, I'll add – I went to a weapon-smithing place and made an upgrade to Wilt so that my scroll fits in the handle. I could use some sparring practice to get used to the different weight."

"Aw, are you asking me to go easy on you?"

Bedlam grinned in defiance of the verbal jab, drawing his sword back out, "I'm just warning you that fighting me with this is going to be a bit different than your fights with Brazen. Our weapons aren't the same anymore."

Neither are we, went unspoken. Funny what a rough week running ragged, harrowed by loss, will do to a man.

"So what was it that you learned?" Dominic asked, his curiosity piqued.

"It would seem," Bedlam said before grunting as he blocked an overhead swing, "that team RWBY has a relic of their own."

"Aw, so what, us and Blake have matching rings?" Dominic grimaced as he countered the riposte with a block of his own, leaping backwards and landing vertically on the wall like a coiled spring. "That's romantic", he jeered.

"It's a lamp or something."

"So what does it do? Attract moths instead of grimm?" Dominic sprung forward from the wall, shooting forward at Bedlam who chose to dive out of the way, rolling on the floor. "Does it have its own glowing green woman?"

"Not sure!" Bedlam said, then spat out a glob of dust he had eaten during his dive, "but I did get the rundown of it from the youngest human boy, Oz, that they're with. He's got that cane we saw on the dead headmaster in the bowels of Beacon." Bedlam leapt up to his feet in time to parry Dominic's aggressive approach, which arrived a moment too late to take advantage of his prone opponent.

"Wasn't the headmaster of Beacon named Ozpin, too?" What a strange coincidence, he thought. "What's all this mean for us?"

"First of all, it means I'm going to be heading north to Argus," Bedlam informed while their blades became a whirl of red streaks between their bodies. "The girls think they have to get their relic to the safety of Atlas."

"Hah, now THAT'S a joke."

"I know, right?" Bedlam laughed, "as if Atlas is safe. I can't stop them from going, and it'll be easier to get a clear shot at Blake while she's on the move, out of the city!" Their swords pressed against one another, as each faunus' muscles strained to overpower the other's. In that regard, at least, they remained evenly matched. "I think the Ozes are related; the young boy Oscar seemed to have Ozpin's cane, so maybe it is a family naming convention like the humans' colour bit. From what I've overheard from them before, his aura isn't much yet. A weak link in their herd..."

"So what does their relic do? How do we take it?"

"He called it the Relic of Knowledge. Apparently it can answer three questions once every one-" he blocked a side-swing, the force knocking his tongue to the side so that he sputtered. He glared at Dominic, who shrugged innocently. "Can answer three questions every one-hundred years, can't see the future because Choice is a thing I guess, and apparently the questions were already used up this century."

The two of them were silent for a minute as their blades rang out against one another, each one of them focused on the task of keeping at bay an opponent who was more perfectly matched to their skills than anyone they had ever fought before.

"So that's what Cinder wanted from Haven."

Another couple minutes passed silently, save for the clanging of Wilt on Wilt. Each Adam was now covered with a sheen of sweat as they anticipated each blow, each counter and parry, with perfect precision. It was like fighting a living mirror.

"I suspect so."

"Brazen will want to-" Dominic began, only to have his sentence broken as Bedlam suddenly and unexpectedly sheathed Dominic's Wilt in Bedlam's version of Blush and whacked Dom in the side of the head with the blunt side of his Wilt once Dom's sword was caught; unable to be brought over to parry the attack. Dominic's grip on Wilt faltered as his aura absorbed the blow but left him momentarily dazed, leaving Bedlam with both swords and advantage.

"I think that's my point," Bedlam smiled, stretching his arms up in a silent cheer of self-congratulatory victory.

Dominic pulled his own Blush out and aimed it at Bedlam's triumphant face, "is it?" His voice was laden with anger, making Bedlam balk and take a step back in confusion.

"It is unless you want to waste ammunition and alert the whole neighbourhood to our presence." Bedlam let Dom's Wilt slide out of Blush, offering it as a concession to the loser.

Dominic seethed, snatching his weapon back and sheathing. How had Bedlam gotten the better of him? He began trying to formulate some excuse for his loss: he'd been training all day and was tired, Bedlam had used a trick to win, and so forth. Nothing that would hold up for long, but he was willing to try.

Before he could begin to make such an argument in defence of his self-humiliation, Bedlam spoke, "hey, don't take it so hard. No matter what happens these days, an Adam always wins right? And it's not like we're really fighting against one another here. One for all and all for me, right?"

Dominic breathed in a long, deep breath. He's right, which means I'm right. Nothing to get worked up over. It's just training. He was better than this, better than losing his head at some petty error. Next time he'd be expecting it, next time he would be better. A trick he could use in the future. That was how he grew, how he improved. It was a lesson, maybe, about how expectations could be wrong and how he should always be working to get better. He stood up, readied his stance, and they began a second round of their spar.

They didn't stop until Brazen showed up, their match still standing at 1-0.

"I see I've not been missed," the white-cloaked clone called from the entrance. "Don't stop on my account. I'm just going to get out of my clothes to relax." Brazen seemed to give the sparring pair a wide berth, perhaps wary of the dance of their blades, and went into the office with the MARKETING sign.

When he re-emerged, now clad only in his undershorts, gloves, shoes, and the grimm mask he had put on while changing out of his disguise, Bedlam signalled to cease the spar. "I've got something you need to see." He pressed the handle of his sword, letting his scroll screen pop out. He pressed it a couple times, then offered the blade to the latest arrival. "Have a watch." Bedlam then went over to the desk, where he checked out what was happening in the live video of team RWBY's house.

"What is it?"

"You'll have to watch and see-ee," Bedlam replied in a sing-song voice. Dominic sat down with Brazen to watch it together, since while he had been given the summation of it he figured he may as well watch the actual recording his clone had produced. Bedlam, bereft of his sword, sat away from them with Neo's scroll to immerse himself in a new level of stalking Blake; Dominic smirked as he heard the sound of his forsaken student presently eating a salmon casserole with her human masters. "The one who is speaking at the start is a human boy who has the Beacon headmaster's cane; I started recording just after they began talking about means of getting to Atlas via Argus."

"Hopefully the first option will suffice," Oscar's voice came out of the handle-scroll. Brazen leaned in close to listen while Dom sprawled out on the floor, exhausted from his day of training and sparring. They observed as the voice continued to give an overview of the Relic of Knowledge, with the skill of an academic lecturer capable of putting an entire room of students into a state of drowsy compliance were the topic not so captivating. Once the conversation dwindled down to the group talking about train seating arrangements, Brazen looked up.

"So now seems like a good time to share what I learned today," he said, recalling Hazel's ambit in remaining in Mistral. "I know who that boy is, thanks to our friend Hazel..."


AN: In my defence, the show never really said when Cinder woke up after getting put on ice. The only timeframe I have to work with there is that she didn't have her meeting with LMM until a month afterwards, because she walked by that poster that said they were last seen a month prior. My headcannon has her lying low for a bit like the Adams are.

Do you think this story would be better off if I toned down the violence/sexual references/darker themes? A Clean Chapter, you could say?