Jaune walked down the looming pathways that once belonged to people of forgotten ages. The stone walls around him were cracked, but were worn by time and not by weapons or beasts. Elaborate designs were carved into the walls, and there were even some on the floor. Animals thought Jaune, for what he deduced from the carved scribbles were what he saw on the farms. A boar, a bull, and snakes that climbed trees. However, one snake appeared different than the others, this one had three heads and its skull was armored by a pointed mask of bone with fangs as long as spears. Jaune's steps slowed till his feet came to a complete stop.

"You shouldn't stop moving," Samantha said scornfully.

It had taken Jaune much effort to receive a name from the girl who guided him, but even an innocent boy like him held the doubt that the name she'd given him was a fabrication. Nonetheless, the boy's attention was focused on the wall nearest to him, and eventually earned Samantha's curiosity as well.

"Why does this snake look different from the rest?" Jaune asked.

"Because it does." Samantha replied. The girl had sought refuge in the ruins for years, but archeology and history were never traits that she bothered with. She already had so much on her plate, that drowning herself with more unknowns put a knot in her stomach.

"Are there snakes with more than one head? I haven't read any stories about beasts like that." Jaune said but his question was ignored and he was forced to resume his pace.

"Some things are better off not being known, I don't look at a dusty skull and wonder why its there, I'm more worried about what killed its flesh and blood." Samantha said this while looking forward.

"She's kinda mean...", Jaune thought while his eyes watched Samantha's fingers twitch on a pouch strapped to her hip.

Jaune watched the leather pouch swing slightly with Samantha's steps and curled a brow as he spotted a tuft of green leaves peek out for but a moment.

"Pao?" Funkfreed tapped Jaune's shoulder with his trunk. The boy jolted and knocked his forehead at the promise he'd made prior for some apples. Unfortunately, Jaune had no succulent or crispy fruit to offer and told Funkfreed that he could carry him if the elephant grew weary. Funkfreed took Jaune on his offer and transformed into his saber form for easy transportation.

Samantha watched the scene unfold, and the more she thought about it, her suspicions about her former academy grew larger. Samantha could remember the days during her schooling all too well, Theodore was the first to notice Samantha's potential, and her mentality of preservation did well to conserve her aura for optimal combat. Thus, Shade Academy's headmaster saw to it that Samantha was properly supported so she could reach the peak of her potential.

However, when the headmaster approached her with the preposition of caring for the innocent and her fellow hunters and huntresses, Samantha felt the only reasonable response at the time was to accept Theodore's preposition. Before Samantha knew it, she was standing in front of two massive metal doors, and behind the daunting metal frames, was a small black fruit with plush green leaves and swirls all over.

"Eat this, Samantha," Theodore said with confidence and rested a hand on his student's shoulder. "You will obtain the powers of a maiden and the strength of a hundred men once you've eaten this fruit. All I ask is that you uphold the peace of Vacuo, and aid those who are worthy of forgiveness..."

Samantha shuddered as another memory blindsided her. On the night Samantha was to receive her new maiden powers, the original owner was an old and frail woman who barely had the strength to lift a finger. This current maiden also happened to be Shade Academy's librarian, a kind woman by the name of Cabriel, and not once did it ever occur to Samantha that this old woman held a power that could shake the earth, wrench the winds, and make the wild ocean bend to her whims.

The idea of holding such power was intoxicating, and Samantha eagerly accepted the conditions. She'd never known what it was like to have a family or a blood-related one for that matter, and if she could remain with Theodore as her father figure; Samantha could not have asked for anything more. Yet, when Samantha witnessed the expression of pity Ms. Rumpole wore when the girl was blessed with her new abilities, it planted a seed of doubt in Samantha's mind that eventually grew into a twisted tree of lies and deceit.

The history that was uncovered about the real reasons for the ancient war and the repercussions that followed, was overwhelming, to say the least, and the torch that Samantha had decided to take soon lost its warmth and its brightness flickered as the shadows of doubt consumed her ambitions and spirit. No longer did Samantha revel in the podium she'd been elevated to, as she realized that taking the maiden's powers was a burden instead of a blessing.

She realized the mistake, Samantha knew this, but it was too late to give back as the only way for a maiden to remove her curse was to die and have its powers move onto another host. However, Samantha did not want to die, nor did she want to face a foe that she knew was unkillable. Thus, she took the cowardly route and abandoned her duties at Shade Academy for a secluded life.

Samantha wondered what Theodore thought of her, and his expression when he realized he'd lost the devil fruit that his academy had sworn to protect. Then again, it was his fault for keeping Samantha in the dark and only lifting the veil over her eyes when she'd committed herself past the point of no return.

"Hah..." Samantha laughed weakly and blinked out a bitter tear. Yet, Samantha's powers were not that of the summer maiden, it was that of the spring. Odd wasn't it? To possess the maiden's powers of Mistral instead of those of Vacuo... Perhaps there was still more to Theodore's ruse than he'd let on, for the supposed blessing that Cabriel bestowed upon Samantha was indeed that of the spring maiden without a doubt.

Yet, despite Theodore's meticulous nature, he'd often spoken of the summer maiden as someone he greatly respected and did say that she lived within Vacuo's territories. Did the headmaster know? Was he aware that someone as strong as the summer maiden was in his midst? To this day, Samantha contemplated whether Leo of Haven Academy had also plotted to have his kingdom's respective maiden swapped with that of Vacuo's.

"There are too many possibilities to consider..." Samantha yawned as a headache had begun to form.

"Yeah, choosing which path to go down is tough." Jaune nodded in agreement as he cupped his chin and used his other hand to hold Funkfreed's hilt. Though the sword dragged behind him due to the lad's small stature and lack of a sheath and sash.

"...What?" Samantha blinked as she noticed her surroundings had changed drastically. There were no patterns on the walls around her, and the hallway she'd entered was a few feet taller than the previous areas where thick pillars supported the roofs.

"Where are we?" Samantha's voice trembled as her hands instinctively went to her sheathed weapons.

"Um..." Jaune scratched his head. "I don't know, I was following you."

"Let's retrace our steps," Samantha snapped and led the boy back from where they came. Unfortunately, the hallway led to a four-way cross, and Jaune's memory and awareness were not up to par to remember the routes he had taken.

"We're lost..." Samantha cursed under her breath.

"U-Um, Samantha?" Jaune tugged the girl's sleeve and pointed to a pair of bright red dots at the end of the left hallway. Guttural growls and the sound of gnashing teeth echoing from the darkness, Jaune felt his blood freeze and took a heavy gulp.

"Get behind me and stay put." Samantha withdrew her weapons and checked their ammunition. She had enough to repel a pack of Grimm, and she always had her maiden powers to get out of a bind. All she had to do was-

"LET USSS FEASSSST!"

/-/

"...I've been meaning to ask, how exactly do you and Qrow transform into birds?" Hawkins asked as he felt an elbow dig into his thigh which made him wince.

"You're really pushing it with these questions aren't you?" Raven scowled as she felt Hawkins' hands go limp. She felt his breathing waver, but he was quick to correct himself and soon his heartbeat was under control.

"I've been told that small talk is a good way to break the ice, Hawkins replied, "especially when it comes to difficult people."

"...If I could move properly, I'd already have left you to rot in these abandoned ruins..." Raven sulked as a deep sigh left her lips. The adrenaline had long left her, and the soreness in her muscles had taken a toll on her mobility and stamina. As things stood, she had no choice but to stay put unless she wanted to risk long-term injury.

"That's a possibility," Hawkins nodded and rested his chin atop Raven's head. He felt the bandit shiver as he made contact, but whether this was due to discomfort was up in the air. Thus, Hawkins simply let the awkward situation proceed, as he felt he'd finally broken into a more comfortable atmosphere that would give him the answers he sought.

"Then wouldn't it be better to get up and leave?" Raven quipped.

"I am, if not more, injured than you are. If it wasn't for your generosity, then I would probably be in the land of the dead with the rest of my comrades. Though, whether that destination is heaven or hell is still yet to be determined. So, back to the initial topic, how does turning into a bird work? Did you achieve this power of your own accord? Or did you obtain it through outside means?"

"Outside means?" Raven huffed. "The ability to transform is a gift that is bestowed only to the most promising and trustworthy tribe members. I don't know how it's done, but when Qrow and I were ten years old, we were asked to bring back an animal of our choosing. Neither of us could capture or kill a reasonably large beast, so we decided on prey that we were already accustomed to catching."

"You and Mr. Branwen ate crows?" Hawkins asked.

"When you're hungry every moving beast looks edible," Raven growled, "and crows and corvids are pretty easy to catch once you pick up on their habits. Then, after all was said and done, we brought back the corpses of two birds which our tribe leader took and used in some sort of weird ritual that I never got the grasp of..."

"Ritual? So your tribe practiced magic?" Hawkins was most intrigued, as Qrow's definition of his past was far and in between, but then again, as was that of the magician so he couldn't really complain or ask for more.

"Apparently, before the first sunrise, the earth was nothing but a dead rock that the gods decided to carve into their ideal world, but that's nothing but a children's tale that the old tribesmen used to tell the kids at night. At least when the old cranks were in a good mood..."

"Most ancient stories have a hint of truth to them, but I cannot deny that some facts are exaggerated or dismissed depending on the source. Back in my homeland, there was a tale of a notorious liar who stole from his king's riches to launch an expedition that led to a city of gold, but when the king arrived at the island, all he found was a remote island of trees and sand." Hawkins took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

How many years had it been since he recounted his past memories in such a lax manner? Usually, whenever the magician brought up his history, he often got nightmares that led to sleepless nights. Yet, perhaps it was because he was on the verge of death that his brain prioritized repairing his wounded organs instead of mourning past losses.

Nowadays, the magician's life revolved around keeping his son and his friends in check, along with managing his teammates under Summer's guidance. Then again... having his days filled with responsibility provided a purpose, and served as a great distraction so that he wouldn't wallow in depression.

"What, did I say something funny?" Raven grit her teeth at the slight upturn of Hawkins' lips. Yet, when she lifted her head and met Hawkins' eyes, he said something that made her pause.

"Your eyes, they're a darker shade than mine. Still, are they the shade of crimson? No, I think blood-red is a better description." The magician removed his chin from Raven's scalp so he could lean down and analyze.

"W-What's with you?" Raven huffed and eased back. "Just a moment ago you were willing to kill me and all those affiliated with the Branwen tribe, but now you're like a curious child..."

"I suppose my son's habit of boldly asking about the unknown has started to rub off on me, either that or the constant pestering of Ms. Rose has also worn me down to the point that I can no longer deny her pushy demands at my leisure."

Raven clicked her tongue and Hawkins realized that his tongue had slipped. Summer was more than a sore spot for the bandit, and this was emphasized when the magician felt a sharp elbow dig into his cracked ribs.

"Summer shouldn't have been chosen to be our team leader, she's too soft..." Raven said in a quiet but harsh tone.

"...To that, I agree."

Raven blinked. Of all people, for Hawkins to denounce, it had to be his partner, the same person whose adopted child he was willing to defend with his life.

"You shouldn't lie if you want to stay on my good side," Raven hissed.

"Oh, am I finally on the good side? My bruised ribcage would say otherwise..." Hawkins mused with a smirk. "However, my statement still holds complete truth. In earnest, throughout my interactions with my teammates, I've deduced that Mr. Long would be the best candidate for leadership."

"Tai? That idiot?" Raven's toes curled and her fingers dug into her palms.

"I've seen him in the field," Hawkins said, "and while Mr. Long does have an easy-going nature; it's only present when he knows there is no chance of danger. While on missions or hunting Grimm, he rivals Mr. Branwen in terms of seriousness and his relaxed nature dissolves for one of a veteran huntsman."

"You're sure giving Tai a lot of praise..." Raven grumbled.

"There is no reason for me to deny his calculative nature. While not as meticulous as I, Mr. Long possesses a good balance of action and patience, which is rare for someone whose fighting style revolves around brute force. To be honest, it's him I often consult before Mr. Branwen in regards to strategy when Ms. Rose is not around."

"...He did at least think before he acted, that's one positive trait I can give him." Raven conceded, and felt the lids over her eyes grow heavy.

"H-Hey, Hawkins, what are you doing?"

The soft hums of slumber drifting slowly past her ears, Raven felt a soft thud land on her shoulder accompanied by a slumped torso. Peeking over her shoulder, Raven witnessed the emotionless face of the magician as he drifted off to a deep slumber. She tried to protest and lift the extra weight off her, but in doing so she accidentally knocked over Hawkins, and with his arms still wrapped around her torso, she fell with him.

Stuck atop the magician's chest, Raven's face was pressed against Hawkins' pectorals with her black hair disheveled around her like an unruly curtain, but she could still hear his steady heartbeats, and soon the calm rhythm began to tempt her to rest.

"I shouldn't..." Raven scowled as a faint tear streaked down her face. But as the seconds ticked by, she found her breaths matching Hawkins' heartbeat, and followed him to the land of dreams. However, when she closed her eyes, neither she nor Hawkins noticed the Arc symbol that glowed warmly on the magician's chest.

/-/

"Urgh... it's too soon for another journey in this mysterious plane..." Hawkins groaned as he awoke on a field of white flowers. Yet, when his mind stopped swimming and his eyes regained their focus, he realized that something was immediately amiss.

When he stood and walked along the grass, the earth beneath his feet blurred and shifted to a more rugged appearance and soon the sight of buildings caught his interest.

"This place..." Hawkins scratched his head. "It has to be the agricultural district of Vale..."

This was confirmed at the sight of Hawkins' current home, at least it was. Instead of the two-storied home which had been rebuilt in place of the one that had burned down in the fires, what Hawkins saw was the old Acre household that was still only one story and with a much smaller backyard.

"I helped change the fences too," Hawkins surmised as he inspected the white fence that surrounded his home. "Sam painted the new woodwork a dark brown..."

"Bastion!" Hawkins yelled. "Giova!"

"W-What?" Bastion's spirit manifested in a palm-sized puff of white smoke that appeared beside the magician. "Whoa, Hawkins, where the heck did you take us this time?"

Hawkins curled a brow. "Did you or Giova not have a role in this?"

Bastion shrugged, or at least that's what Hawkins assumed the white cloud did.

"Can't say I did. Also, if Giova played a part in this, I would know. But it looks like you're in Vale, right?"

"Yes," Hawkins sighed, "but I feel that I'm-"

"Sam! Come on in and get some breakfast! I'm not going to reheat your food if it gets cold!"

"That voice," Hawkins nodded as there was only one cow faunus who possessed such a caring, yet bossy, tone. Bastion followed suit, and also took a look around at his leisure.

"Carla?" Hawkins called to a white-haired woman with large cow ears who tapped her foot on the front porch while waiting for her husband. Yet she did not respond to the magician's voice, and simply went back inside when another familiar voice answered her.

"Coming, Carla, the boys, and I just had a little trouble loading the haybales!" Sam panted as his signature straw hat and unforgettable antlers came into view.

"Sam!" Hawkins moved to intercept his friend, but when he got close enough to recognize the deer faunus' face, he was taken aback... by how young Sam looked.

The farmer still had wrinkles, but they weren't as prominent and his overalls lacked the holes around the knees. Not only that, there were no wisps of gray hair that marked his thick brown locks, and he appeared to have finished a shift in the field.

"Phew, I hope Carla made some boiled eggs, and some buttered potatoes sound really good about now too." Sam paid Hawkins no mind, despite the blonde standing right in front of him, and passed through him as if he were nothing more than air.

"It happened again," Hawkins mused as he tried to interact with the front door of his home. His fingers slipped through the knob, and instead, Hawkins was able to walk through the walls as if he were a ghost.

"Wait..." Hawkins' mind grew frantic as he remembered his first encounter with the strange being when he was brought into this plane as a phantom.

"Whoa, easy, Hawkins!" Bastion's said firmly. "I don't think this is the same as when Giova had guidance over you. Besides, I'd be able to detect if a malevolent spirit was afoot, and I can say that this place is clean of them. At least, for now, that is."

"Then can you bring me back to the world of the living?" Hawkins asked impatiently. "I still have a son to save."

"Well... here's the thing," Bastion hummed. "I wasn't the one who brought you here, in fact, I don't even know how you arrived. That being said, you usually manage to cross the bridge after a certain amount of time, so why not explore and find some clues?"

"You sound like a naive child who's going on a field trip," Hawkins sighed, "why do I even depend on you..."

"Because I'm you're guardian spirit, for better or for worse! That's what an Arc does after all!" Bastion replied proudly.

"Though oftentimes, the way you find your way back to the world of the living is by having someone link you back, or something along those lines, right? So all we need to do is find the important person you had an interaction with. Well, does anyone come to mind?"

"Wait... the last I remember, I fell asleep with..." Hawkins cupped his chin as the image of a fussy bandit came to light.

"Eh? Slept with... Oh my Oum! Hawkins did you finally get together with somebody?! Is Jaune finally going to have a mother?! Please, you have to tell me, was it Glynda or Shyalry?!"

"Neither, wait... How do you know about Shyarly?" Hawkins grumbled.

"Well... I kinda get bored in the spirit world to y'know, and watching you trying to calm down a crazed, beautiful shark Faunus who's trying to frantically climb you like a ladder is an excellent way to pass the time..."
"...I'm starting to despise you." Hawkins groaned.

"Come on! I've been dead for Oum knows how many years!" Bastion moped. "You can at least spare me some sympathy every now and then..."

"Enough of this," Hawkins dismissed his cohort's ramblings and started his way toward Beacon Academy. If his instincts were right, then what he was experiencing was a memory, and he needed to find the person responsible for it in order to find his way back to the land of the living.

/-/

Meanwhile, a quick cut to our favorite psychopath...

"Hmm... It would appear that I have fallen into a very deep hole." Tyrion pondered aloud with a hand on his hip and the other on his forehead. He received a little injury from the fall, but a sharp pain nicked his swollen neck from Mad Treasure's chain whips.

"My act of playing a hero is amusing, but I wonder how long I'm supposed to keep tabs on Hawkins until Monet decides to show her false face in Vale again." Tyrion laughed. "If she wasn't pretty, I'm sure most folks would peg her as nothing more than a regular delinquent. I wonder how she managed to weasel her way out of my goddess rath at the meeting too..."

Tyrion shrugged and laughed at the whole situation. There was not a doubt in his mind that he would have to pull the trigger on the green-haired snowbird when she showed her true colors, but then again, if Monet did get her wings cut he would deem her wavering loyalty and sacrifice a necessary demonstration of the consequences of those who lacked resolve.

"Hmm?" Tyrion's ears twitched at the sound of a fallen stone. When he turned around, he squinted to see a struggling figure beneath a pile of debris, and the closer he got, Tyrion realized that this was a golden opportunity that could not be ignored.

"Well, what do we have here? Have the chains of Mad Treasure finally rusted?" Tyrion cackled and gave the wincing redhead a harsh kick to the temple to rouse him.

"Tyrion?" Mad Treasure wheezed as blood dribbled from his bruised lip. "Get me out of this rubble, so I can rip that damn magician's head off his shoulders! I'll do it with my bloody bear hands!"

"I guess it's harder to keep a devil fruit user down than I thought," Tyrion hummed with a hand on his chin. "Then again, with the number of beatings that Hawkins has taken, I can say for certain that individuals who have eaten such a mystical fruit do have an advantage when it comes to combat. At least if the devil fruit is combat-related..."

"Will you shut up and dig me out of this rubble?!" Mad Treasure roared hoarsely. "That magician is as good as dead once I see him!"

"Such coarse speech, and this is why I enjoy speaking with humble intellectuals. Unlike that mustache-twirling Watts, Hawkins speaks in a way where he's only rude if you interpret it that way." Tyrion said without a care in the world and made a small jump so that he could sit atop the stones that were piled over Mad Treasure.

"But I digress, while you are no more than a blind, angry dog, I suppose I should assist you considering our secret alliance. Though I am upset that you didn't try to tone down your punches. I still have a few bruises from our last fight you know."

Tyrion turned and started to walk in another direction, and away from Mad Treasure.

"Oi!" Mad Treasure roared. "Where the hell are you going?!"

Tyrion shrugged. "To be honest, I can't say I enjoy your company, despite our shared love of combat. That, and you were ready to kill me where I stood during our duel, isn't that right? I do, after all, have a very good sense when it comes to detecting blood lust."

"You bastard!" Mad Treasure coughed and blood dribbled out his mouth and nose. "When I get out of here, that pale witch will have one less subordinate!"

"Yes..." Tyrion smiled wickedly and felt his fingers linger for the blade compartments of his leather gauntlets. "I suppose we will need to find someone to replace you once you're gone."

"What?" Mad Treasure's bloody eyes widened at the sight of Tyrion's menacing visage.

"Don't worry, this will be over before you can properly suffer..."