"Jaune, where are you going?" Trifa grumbled as she trailed the boy's crawling pace.
Stuck in the backyard the spider Faunus had the duty of keeping track of the blonde's whereabouts, so in short, she was Jaune's babysitter until Sam, Carla, or Hawkins returned from their daily activities.
Though at least Sam had reinforced the fencing to make it harder for Jaune to escape.
"Ababa!~" The boy laughed as he plopped himself beneath the branches of the apple tree. Eyeing the glossy red fruit above, he raised his hands towards them, then whined when all he grabbed was air.
Trifa giggled. "What, you want an apple?"
"Aba!~" The boy grinned, hoping the older girl could give him what he wanted.
Closing one eye, Trifa raised an open palm and shot a silky projectile at the higher branches. Her aim successful, she pulled on her webbing but underestimated the thin branch's connections.
With a snap and a yelp, a rain of apples bombarded the spider Faunus leaving only her head to poke out of the fruit pile. Blowing her bangs away from her face, her cobalt eyes landed on a blonde tyke who was happily munching his sweet bounty.
"Haha, not bad, but I'd recommend going for the low-hanging fruit next time, Trifa." Called a jolly dog Faunus from the other side of the fence.
Max, a long friend of Sam, adjusted his overalls and chuckled at Trifa's angry pout. Before she could utter a word, Max fled the scene while swinging an iron shovel over his shoulder.
"Abapmh?" Jaune tilted his head at his caretaker's strife. His cheeks stuffed with apple bits.
Wiggling through the fruit pile, Trifa broke free and ushered the boy back to his spot beneath the tree's shade.
"Aba?" Jaune held up a half-bitten apple for his friend.
She could have easily gotten one herself, but due to her embarrassing slump, she snagged the fruit from his hand and took a bite on a spot he hadn't left any drool on.
Handing back the half-eaten morsel, Trifa furrowed her brows at Jaune's contemplative expression aimed directly at her.
"Twi... Twi..."
Ever curious, the girl leaned in with open ears.
"Twiba?~"
Trifa blinked. Was Jaune... Was Jaune trying to say her name?!
Excited panic taking hold of her heart, the young Faunus did her best to keep a straight face and correct the boy's pronunciation.
"Trifa~" She said.
"Twiba!~"
"No, Jaune, you have to roll the R."
Pursing his lips, Jaune dropped his apple and squinted.
"Twiii..."
"Oi, Max, did you check on the horses? If they're giving you any trouble just give 'em a big old slap on the butt!" Yelled Larry a few feet down the dusty road.
Shaking her head, Trifa wiped the annoyed expression off her visage and slapped on an endearing smile that she presented to Jaune. Though it quickly transformed to one of concern at the blonde's blank features.
A few seconds passed and he blinked many times, but what he said next made Trifa's mood drop so fast that if you blinked you would've missed it.
"Twibutts!~" Jaune cheered with a goofy smile and waved his arms toward his friend.
"N-No! Bad Jaune! It's Trifa!" She wailed.
"Twibutts!~ Twibutts!~" He sang.
"It's TRIFA!" She screamed.
/-/
As the lessons of naming erupted at the Acre household, the stoic magician found himself in alien territory.
"Why am I here?" Hawkins muttered under his breath.
"It's to change that mundane attire of yours. I will not be seen with an unpresentable partner, even if he's only temporary." Glynda replied haughtily.
Standing in the middle of a fancy shop littered with all sorts of fancy accessories and things Hawkins could barely wrap his head around, he was shortly pulled from his position by a purple hue and ushered between a section of frivolous dresses and hand-knitted gloves.
The magician could only sigh as his attempts to interact with the woman responsible for his ire were promptly ignored. Deciding to allow his eyes to wander, a crucial fact registered in the stoic blonde's mind.
Bar some of the staff who folded clothes and offered advice to customers, the majority of the gender percentage veered toward the female spectrum. Which meant, to put it simply, Hawkins was like a fish out of water.
"Here we are, how do these gloves look?" Glynda held up a set of carefully cut cotton with the emblem of Vale stitched on its leather exterior.
"They seem fine to me," Hawkins grunted.
With a curt nod, the huntress went back to her affairs in an instant. However, she did appear to be in a more talkative mood.
"I'm... sorry for bullying you into this predicament you know." She said so softly the man would've missed it if he wasn't leaning in.
"Isn't it a tad too early to be letting out personal sentiments?" The magician hummed disinterestedly.
Glynda frowned. "I hold a high standard when conducting my duties as a huntress, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of offering appreciation."
"I expected as much, you are human after all." Her fellow blonde quipped.
"Which beckons the question," he added, "why are you so insistent on having your partner be a complete stranger? I understand the idea of not wishing to attend the celebration with a pervert, but surely the majority of your former classmates don't fall into that category."
Pushing a stray hair behind her ear, the witch put on a mask the magician struggled to comprehend.
"It's not that I'm against a relationship," she began slowly as if carefully selecting her words, "it's just that specific topic isn't on my priority list. I still have ambitions to push my team to new heights, but as it stands my team's dynamic could use some work."
Though her mask held strong, Hawkins could see a few tiny cracks along the edges.
"Is it because you feel threatened for your position?" The question seemed plausible, as Summer had stated that Glynda was a competitive person.
"It does seem that way doesn't it?" The huntress sighed. "I merely wish to set the standard that upholds the morals my academy stands for and have others follow that direction. I've heard enough stories of great leaders falling from grace, and refuse to meet a similar fate."
"Hmph, that's rather naive." The magician tilted his head toward the upper shelves of scarfs but felt a chill run down his spine and veered his stoic gaze back to the woman beside him.
"Are you really this much of a bore? Or has Summer been feeding me lies about your actual character?" The witch shot back. Sorting aggressively through the scarfs as she did so.
"Words can only be matched with memory and action. With no proof of the event, how can anyone judge another's a statement for falsehoods?"
After a slight pause, Hawkins frowned at his cohort's thoughtful expression, but it quickly dropped as she plucked another piece of fabric off the shelf.
"I wouldn't pick that one if I were you."
Now he'd gotten her attention. Raising a single brow in Hawkins' direction, the huntress slowed her fingers and held up the scarf.
"And what's so wrong about this one? I think it suits me just fine."
"Indeed it does," Hawkins drawled, "but it contradicts the gloves you selected."
Glynda opened her mouth to protest but blinked as she realized the man's sudden contribution actually had some merit.
"Hm, so you're not as uninteresting as I first assumed..."
/-/
"Hey, who is that creepy-looking man?" Whispered a woman with bright amber hair. "Doesn't he know this isn't the kind of store for him? If he's hoping to sneak a few perverted glances in any of the changerooms, I'll make sure the staff get on his case real quick." Replied her friend with round eyeglasses.
It didn't take long for Hawkins' presence to be registered among the gossiping ladies in the establishment. In fact, it was a miracle he managed to stay off the radar for so long, but he assumed it was because he kept his hair long.
Still, the witty comments did nothing to chip his stoic armor. For the most part, he regarded the chatter around him to be useless noise, however, his attention shifted at the cough of his fellow blonde.
"Enjoying the view?" She snarked rather rudely.
Hawkins remained mute and focused his crimson pupils elsewhere. On the walls were a myriad of fashion-related posters, but one stood out and the magician decided to inspect it.
Maneuvering his way through the crowds of gossip and jeers, he snagged a poster off the wall and felt his curiosity spike. Its title 'Fashion of the Arcs' was already an eye-catcher, but the real hook was the picture of the woman who held the surname.
Tall with honey-colored locks that curled around her shoulders, the blue dress she wore emphasized her curves and generous bust as her cerulean eyes pierced through the camera that had taken the photo.
Desperate for a name, Hawkins sighed in relief at the bold letters at the bottom of the flyer. Carmel Tottoland Arc, a brave huntress who fights for the lost and weeping.
The title sounded overly sweet, but the magician paid it no mind as his eyes scoured for more answers. Unfortunately, his efforts bore no fruit as all the flyer had to offer was this month's selection of perfumes and makeup.
Folding the paper and shoving it in his pant pocket, Hawkins turned to search for Glynda, but she was nowhere to be found. Lost without his only guide, the former pirate bit back a snarl and strolled down the isles of flashy clothing. Though he decided to pick up a basket and withdrew his tarot cards, just in case a certain item piqued his interest.
"There you are!" Glynda hissed as she marched toward the magician.
His visage set in its regular stone, he replied nonchalantly with a humble apology. This sent the witch for a loop and shut whatever remark she had come up with. As for Hawkins, he was simply too tired to care, his mind elsewhere as the name of Arc had decided to appear a second time that day.
They left the store in eager fashion, one out of laziness, the other out of duty as she had a scheduled meeting with Port that she could not afford to miss.
"Make sure you keep your promise, Hawkins. Because if you decide to stand me up I'll make sure the rest of your life is a living hell." Glynda huffed and spun on her heels.
However, a tap on her shoulder made her turn back, and she was met with the sight of two large paper bags.
"Are these for me?" The witch asked in shock.
"If you are discontent with the selections you made earlier, I've deducted a reasonable outfit that should meet your fashion standards. There is no need to repay me, as I've kept the receipts if you wish to return the items."
Hawkins said that with such a straight face Glynda couldn't decipher whether he was being sarcastic or not.
Her green pupils delving into the bags, it was clear that Hawkins was spitting nothing but the truth. Though she couldn't clearly see the contents, the price tags that stuck out were anything but a humble sum.
Doing her best to accept the bags without brushing against the card reader's hands, Glynda left with a polite thank you leaving the magician to his personal endeavors.
/-/
Peering up at the blackening sky, it was far past regular hours as many shops in the district had pulled down their curtains. Though he wished to return home where a hearty meal from Carla would be waiting, Hawkins refused to indulge in his stomach's pleas for nourishment, as his mind was set on a different goal.
He returned to the beige building prior to the clothing store and was relieved to see the iron gates were still open. With the time of the essence, Hawkins rushed down the cobblestone paths and put himself in front of the mighty stone statue.
Minutes ticking by, a lonely street lamp was the only comfort the park had to offer as the magician sat himself down beside the bronze plaque alongside the fountain's edge.
He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but if this statue of history could shed any light on the mysteries of the Arcs, then his time here would be well spent.
"55% chance this statue is related to Jaune." Hawkins pursed his lips.
This sum didn't add up, but despite repeated tarot readings, the numbers remained the same. Why would a statue that was built in the Arc's honor have such a feeble connection to his adopted son? It literally had the name Arc written on it!
His focus lost to the percentages of his cards, it took a while for him to notice the warm imprint that fizzled through his pale skin. The crescent moons boldly displayed, Hawkins lowered his cards and narrowed his eyes.
"Huh, this isn't where I expected to meet you next. How goes it, Hawkins? Are you happy with your new home?"
The voice he'd grown to appreciatively hate, the former pirate rubbed his temples but offered his ear.
"Bastion, didn't I say that I didn't want to speak to you anymore?"
With an awkward cough, the spirit cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, that approach lacked tact. I know this won't raise your opinion on me, but I am sorry for my actions all those days ago. I let my personal thoughts cloud my judgment, and in the grand scheme of things, I cannot allow the bond between us to slip."
"Then I'd say you already failed in that regard," Hawkins grumbled.
He expected the spirit to depart, but as time had proven over and over again, Bastion was a persistent sort.
"Please, hear me out. I'm on borrowed time as it is, and I'm not sure how much longer I can stray from their surveillance." Bastion's tone of caution earned a genuine interest from his stoic blonde.
"If you want to earn my trust, then tell me the history of this statue." The magician jabbed a thumb at the structure behind him.
"Oh, that old thing? It was built over one hundred years ago, on the 4th of August in the year 1462 RT."
Hawkins lowered his cards. "Wait, didn't the great war occur eighty years ago? The date today is June 2nd, 2001 RT. Glynda also stated the fountain was built to honor the fallen generals during the great war."
"Hm, Glynda? That's a new name." Bastion mumbled.
"She's an acquaintance and my date for a grad reunion this Friday." The blonde said bluntly.
The spirit coughed. "R-Really now? I'm impressed, Hawkins, for you to break out of your shell and enter the dating scene, I hope this woman will be a kind mother for Jaune."
"Nothing of the sort." The magician snapped. "She's made it clear that this rendezvous is a means of escape. I don't know why she'd go to such lengths to avoid attention, but seeing that I've no history in the world of hunters, I can understand her choice. Also, I'll be getting my hands on a valuable news article after all is said and done."
"To the point of asking a complete stranger to go to the dance with her, huh, this Glynda is rather strange don't you think?"
"Dance?" Hawkins curled a brow.
"Haha, did she not tell you? It's pretty much a standard in the Valesian culture to dance at any celebration. Ah, I remember the days when I swept the ballrooms with my graceful strides. From every range of classical to upbeat tunes, I'd recommend you do some research in your new kingdom's culture if you don't want to look like a fool at the event."
After a pause, the blonde rested his chin against his palm. "If Glynda didn't mention it, then her plans of dancing with me are nonexistent."
"Then take up the challenge!" Bastion boasted. "This is a test, Hawkins, if you can adapt to your surroundings as well as I think you can, a simple dance routine should be child's play. Why I know a handful of songs that can put you on the right track!"
The spirit's enthusiasm reaching its peak, it continued to ramble about proper etiquette and responsibilities that Hawkins would need to follow.
"How about we start with the opening song? This one's called Melody Of Turtle Doves, and was quite popular when I was a young lad..."
Before more minutes were wasted, the magician demanded the two get back on track.
"R-Right, my apologies, so what were we talking about again?"
"This statue and what ties it holds to the Arcs," Hawkins stated dumbly.
"Of course," Bastion replied with a loud gulp. "The great war is a rather recent event, spanning less than a century ago, the first war sparked at the eastern sections of the continent of Sanus, along its peninsulas and islands where settlers of both Vale and Mistral were keen on claiming. The date was the 18th of September 1921 RT."
Taking a deep breath, Bastion continued. "It was here that Julius Arc made his debut. He was in charge of a cavalry unit positioned at the western flanks, but truth be told in the beginning his contributions were subtle and his presence there did little in the grand scheme of things."
The magician nodded.
"Though it should be noted that near the end of the brief scuffle, Julius managed to sneak past his opponents' front line defenses and score a crucial hit on their supply routes. You see, Mistral was, and still is, the crown of transportation when it comes to oceanic travel. So by positioning himself on the hillsides by the shore, Julius could efficiently ravage his enemy's imports then retreat to safe cover at a whim. This strategic play earned him great praise from his king and fellow-subjects, and soon Julius found himself rising through the military ranks at great speeds."
His lengthy dialogue complete, Bastion hummed for his cohort's remarks.
"So Jaune has ties to a long line of noble warriors?"
"Indeed." Bastion confirmed.
"Alright, but why does this statue seem so new? Even stone is susceptible to the sands of time."
The spirit shrugged. "All because the initial fountain was built many years ago, that doesn't mean it hasn't gone through a series of restorations. After all, the people of Vale are quite enthusiastic about history in general."
"If that's the case, then why is there no record of the Arc family's time in their own Kingdom? I didn't find any information in Tukson's store, did the Arcs settle elsewhere? If so, what would urge your descendants to move away?"
"Bastion?"
"Hm? O-Oh, sorry I spaced out for a second there. In regards to your question, I cannot provide a definite reason. The day my coffin was buried was the 3rd of April in 1996."
"And what about Harold's activities? He died very recently, so shouldn't there be an accessible database of information I can learn from?"
The spirit went silent once more.
"Like all the Arcs, our bodies are brought to a respective tomb upon our demise, but where it is I cannot say. After all, I was dead when it was my turn to see it." Bastion chuckled weakly.
"Tombe? What does that have to do with my question?"
To his dismay, the magician's curiosity would not be satisfied that night. The emblem on his chest swiftly fading, he was left to his lonesome as the pitter of rain began to fall.
With a deep sigh, Hawkins rubbed his temples and made his way home, the moon and stars watching over him as he departed.