"Damn it!"

Jaune huffed as he set down his tools, his failed creation falling apart in pieces onto the hide mat he'd laid out in front of him. It was a sad attempt to make an arrow out of bone, but he'd applied too much pressure at the wrong angle while carving the tip and cracked the entire thing down the middle.

On the other side of the campfire, Kalé let out a small chuckle. "I know you wanted to try making arrows, but at this point it might be more cost effective for you to buy them from me."

"With what? I have no Runes. Already you've given me meat and this crafting kit for no cost, but I do not intend to take advantage of your kindness. Nor do I believe you would even let me." Jaune sighed, setting the splintered bone to the side to reuse later. Taking out another bone from his pouch, he set to work at another try. "Besides, I'm eventually going to have to venture out on my own. Look for clues about… myself, I suppose. I know I'm Tarnished, but… I can't help but feel there's something else I'm meant to be doing here."

Kalé hummed, his fingers plucking at his instrument absentmindedly. It was their dynamic, so to speak. The nomadic merchant wasn't one to initiate conversation without purpose, but he was an attentive listener and sound of mind. His advice over the past two weeks had been more than helpful, it was grounding to say the least.

For instance, Kalé had been the one to point out that Jaune's mind can't entirely be lost; if that were true, he wouldn't be able to speak or comprehend time. It was more that his identity had been wiped, a blank slate. As to how that helped him find his memories, it didn't, but it was comforting to know that things could have been worse.

And it wasn't as if the past two weeks had been harrowing. Limgrave, the name of this area of the Lands Between, was ripe with food. Wildlife was abundant, and vegetation was plentiful. Granted, he had no idea how to hunt, but Kalé once again had proven reliable. It was he who'd thought of the idea of hunting boar. Deer were too fast and skittish to hunt without a bow, which also crossed off rabbits. Boar, however, were aggressive and prone to standing their ground, making them easier to kill. They were certainly numerous, and with Jaune's armor, shield, and sword, it shouldn't prove too difficult.

Or at least, that was the idea.

In practice, Jaune realized just how foreign the sword and shield were in his hands. The first boar he'd tried to hunt had bowled him over and gored him over its tusks, resulting in a rather embarrassing second death. His second attempt had been little better, but at the very least he'd been successful in killing the boar; though he'd nearly lost his arm to the bastard's gnashing maw in the process.

Thankfully, injuries weren't much of an issue.

Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out two flasks enwreathed in ornate golden patterning with each colored either red or blue. He very clearly remembered not having these when first woke up in the church on the peninsula, and it was only a few days ago that he'd realized they were even in his pouch to begin with. Taking a sip from the crimson flask, the sweet taste of the liquid within elicited a small hum of delight from his throat, and he immediately felt warmth rush through him. The ache in his back from being hunched over all day was washed away as if it never existed.

And, strangely enough, these flasks never emptied! To an extent, at least. Swirling the liquid around in the flasks, he brought them over to the Site of Grace and set the flask down to in the middle of the light. Almost as if it were a tangible thing, the light from the Grace began to swirl above the flasks' openings, before a glowing liquid slowly dripped into them.

They did different things, depending on which one he drank. The red one was a sort of miracle medicine–able to heal his wounds near-instantaneously and revitalize his body–whereas the blue one was a stimulant of some kind. It was almost as if his mind was cleared with each sip, allowing him to focus a lot better on the task at hand. That didn't quite do the sensation justice, but it was difficult to explain with words.

They truly were miraculous, these flasks. That being said, apparently they were standard fair among the Tarnished. Kalé told him as much, saying each Tarnished he'd met had them as well.

Sitting back down at his little spot, he let out a sigh. His mind was rambling, jumping from place to place with no discernible destination. Even as he picked up the bone and tried to make another arrow, he knew that this in itself was a distraction. Preparation, he tried to justify, but it rang hollow even in his own mind. Truth is, put simply he was terrified. Could anyone blame him? He was a man with no memories, cursed to wander the Lands Between and all its harsh glory in search of demigods, all so that he might kill them and claim their powers.

It was a cruel joke, in his opinion.

But at this point it was the only direction he had, the only semblance of purpose he knew for sure. He wanted to know himself, who he was, why he'd lost his memories, but where would he even begin? He who could scarcely swing a blade, let alone kill the guards who manned the gates leading to Stormveil Castle?

As he continued to think on it, he felt his mood sink more and more, and eventually his hands stopped working; simply sat there in silence.

Kalé cleared his throat, catching Jaune's attention. "I can hardly stand to look at you, depressed as you are. What… What troubles you?"

Jaune blinked in surprise. Kalé wasn't one to initiate idle chat, and yet… no, it wasn't idle chat. The merchant looked distinctly disquieted, his brow scrunched beneath his hat and mask. Jaune's heart warmed at the concern that the other man displayed; it was sad, but his was the only kindness that Jaune had known his entire time here.

"It's not anything in particular, simply a myriad of things building upon each other," Jaune assured, albeit tiredly. "Everything feels… overwhelming, I suppose would be the best word for it. I know I said I feel as if I'm meant to be doing something, but… I don't even know where I'd start."

Kalé hummed. "You won't get anywhere soon as you are. I would say to find a maiden, but it's impossible to say whether that'll be possible anytime soon. It's no substitute for the strength provided by runes, but there is someone who may be able to help you get stronger; that is, if he's still around."

Jaune perked up at that. Getting stronger sounded as good a start as any, and Kalé was right; in the past two weeks since he'd stayed at the Church of Elleh, no other person had passed through the area. If he was going to find a maiden, it wouldn't be here, and chancing his success on pure chance seemed ill-advised.

"Who do I ask?"

Kalé took out a map and beckoned Jaune over. Using the feather quill from his cap, he dipped it in a pot of ink he procured from his cloak and circled a certain part of the paper. He then pointed at a small square mark west of the circle. "This is the Church. If you travel to the East, you'll soon find the Mistwood Forest. It's… not a friendly place, but a week or so before you came to me another Tarnished told me that there was a simulacra of a wolf's howl amidst the trees. The man I speak of is a little on the beastly side, but he's a good egg. I won't say anything more, but treat him with respect and tell him I sent you. He's bound to lend you his guidance if you do."

Handing over the map, Kalé then handed over another bundle of meat.

"Oh no, I couldn't," Jaune tried to refuse, but the merchant merely shoved it into his arms with a grunt.

"If you decide to come back, I expect you to have also learned to cook worth a damn," Kalé snarked. "That slop you made a few days ago was a travesty."

Jaune looked down at the bundle of dried meat with a smile, then tucked it away in his pouch. "Thanks, Kalé. I won't forget this kindness."

Walking through the halls of the Elda Apothecon's Infirmus, Jaune's feet quickly carried him to Godfrey's room, taking him past all manner of patients and Apothecaries. Quick glances told him that the recovery efforts were proceeding well, at least so far. The Apothecaries, he knew, worked around the clock to reverse the effects of centuries of bodily neglect in thousands of citizens. Emaciation was the norm, but slowly and surely the people were starting to look better; through means either magical or physical. Occasionally, a Perfumer–a true Perfumer, not the depraved ones lining the likes of the Shaded Castle–could be seen roaming the halls, tending to the sick with their elixirs and aromatics, eager to purge the black mark upon their reputation.

The chaos of the Apothecon was sobering, to say the least; but it represented change, and more importantly, progress. The people were healing however slowly, and that was a good thing.

He made it to Godfrey's room within a few minutes, and upon walking through the door he was greeted to the site of Godfrey, the First Elden Lord…

…fallen over the edge of his bed.

"Jaune," the gargantuan man muttered awkwardly. "...tis good to see thee."

Looking the other man over quickly, Jaune let out a hum. "You seem better," he tittered, not even bothering to hide the smile. His words rang true, though. Godfrey was now free of his bandages, his wounds all of them closed, and despite the perplexing position Jaune found him in, Godfrey seemed in better spirits. As opposed to their first meeting post-battle, the other man's expression wasn't nearly as guarded, merely embarrassed at the situation he found himself in.

Godfrey grumbled as he tried to maneuver his body into a sitting position, haphazardly untangling his limbs from his bedsheets. Jaune rushed over to help. A few uttered curses later, Godfrey sat on the floor of his room, free of his sheets but disgruntled all the same. Jaune laughed openly and helped the man to his feet.

"Truly though," Jaune commented merrily, "you do look a lot better. Your powers really helped, as I thought."

Godfrey shook his head, instead gesturing vaguely with a wave of his hand. "Nay, thee shouldst look toward thine Apothecaries. Twas their effort that aided in my recovery."

"True enough. Bishop Miriel does good work; the Apothecon was well worth the effort."

"Miriel?" Godfrey uttered, brow raised in surprise. "The old turtle yet liveth still?"

Jaune nodded. "Aye. Within the old Church of Vows to boot."

And hadn't that been an endeavor? Jaune himself had seen to the chapel's repair, and its expansion. Nowadays, it served as the Capitol Apothecarion, the headquarters and hub of the Elda Apothecon's activities. From it, Apothecaries spread far and wide across the entire Lands Between, providing healing and aid to those who required it. Unsurprisingly, Miriel had been the first to proposition to the Elda Apothecon, citing the need for compassion and comfort during a time of recovery, something that Jaune agreed with and personally sanctioned the development of.

And thus, the Apothecon was born.

"Proud as I may be of the Apothecon," Jaune drawled, trying to get back on topic, "I've come to talk about you. More specifically, what it is you intend to do. You never did give me your answer."

At that, Godfrey fell into silence. He seemed contemplative, at least from Jaune's view, though it was understandable. Godfrey was the first Elden Lord. Much of his tenure in the position consisted of warfare, far from Leyndell, at the farthest reaches of the Lands Between. He was not responsible for the prejudice that befell those outside of the Golden Order, instead fighting the Fire Giants to the North and eliminating their Fell God.

The fact remained that he was a symbol of the old age; an age that, for many, brought only despair. What Godfrey's presence would mean for this new order, in this age of healing, even Jaune had no idea; but he wanted to believe in Godfrey's capacity to be better.

With a rumble, Godfrey sighed a deep, weary sound. "I shall remaineth here. To whatever end thou may require, mine hand I giveth to thee."

Slowly, Jaune nodded. "Good. Then let's begin post-haste. Foremost, I need you to support the Administratum and the Apothecon. Miriel and Diallos–my second–are both well-versed in the vision I have in mind regarding our course forward. This will be an Age of Recovery, a time of healing, to undo the pain caused by the age before."

Jaune beckoned Godfrey over to the balcony, and urged him to look below at Leyndell. The city was alive, filled with people of all kinds. Omenkin now walked amongst the crowds freely, with the only evidence of their former curse being a pair of horns that regally crowned their heads. Albinaurics manned stalls along the streets, their forms sitting atop wheelchairs to allow them mobility. Merchants, formally Nomadic, now ran their own shops in the Capitol, no longer needing to roam in solitude.

Gesturing proudly at the city below, Jaune smiled grandly. "This is the age I envisioned, when I was abandoned within the Erdtree. An age where no-one would have to feel alone in this world." With a sigh, he turned to Godfrey. "Which is why I need your help. You know I intend to confront the Outer Gods directly, yes?"

Godfrey nodded. "Indeed, Marika did shareth thine ambition with me. Though, tis a fool's errand, surely?"

"Not necessarily," Jaune assured. "I do not hail from the Lands Between, as you know. The realm I was born in, Remnant, was also touched by Outer Gods; different ones, vastly unlike those we know here, but similar enough in nature and power that their essence can be used. In my world they left behind relics, vestiges of their power. I would use them to drive my blade into the hearts of these parasites, and secure freedom for all of humanity. But it comes at a price."

"Thou may not remaineth here," Godfrey surmised, hand scratching his beard in thought. "Thou must goeth unto thine own realm, to fetch these relics."

"Aye, and time is warped between the two realms." Jaune admitted. "Every day I spend in Remnant is 26 days that pass here in the Lands Between, and I have yet to figure out a way to rectify that. I do not intend to abandon my post as Elden Lord, but for the sake of our future I must take leave for weeks at a time. Already, I have been gone for a few weeks, despite only being in Remnant for less than two days."

His Council was holding up well in his absence, and every other spare moment he had in Remnant he spent here in the Lands Between, but it was clear that as time passed and their numbers were stretched, the stress upon their forces would only continue to build. Who better to alleviate the burden than a former Elden Lord?

Just then, a knock at the door drew their attention.

"Come in," Jaune called.

When the door opened, Boggart strode into the room, swiftly followed by Diallos and one Nepheli Loux. Dressed in armor colored in Limgrave regalia, and her long ebony hair braided over her shoulder, she hardly looked like the same warrior woman Jaune first met. But that dastardly smirk was impossible to mistake.

"Nepehli!" Jaune exclaimed. Rushing over he clasped her arm in a firm shake. "It's good to see you. It's been a while!"

Nepheli laughed. "A warrior never rests, and we've both been busy. But you're right, it has been an age… You look well."

"I am well. You?"

"Seen better days, but I've been worse," she joked. "Heavens forbid I ever receive respite from… paper… work…"

Jaune eyed her curiously as she trailed off, only to find her gaze drawn somewhere behind him. Turning, he made a sound of understanding.

"I take it this is your first time meeting?"

Godfrey stepped forth, and Nepheli tensed when he loomed over her.

"Nay, I knoweth this little one well. For she took upon herself mine own namesake, as part of my clan."

Nepheli looked up at him in awe, and she very nearly fell to her knees had Godfrey not held her steady. "Rise, warrior; thy lord hast words for thee."

"Chieftain…" Nepheli whispered reverently.

"We shall converse hereafter, Little Cloud."

Jaune watched this all fondly. Nepheli hardly ever spoke of her time before coming to the Lands Between, and of all of his friends she was among the most stoic. To see her express herself so openly was a sight to behold. Coming up behind her, he clapped his hand over her shoulder with a smile.

"You'll have plenty of time to catch up, Neph," he assured, patting her shoulder one last time before turning to the group as a whole. "It's one of the reasons I've called all of you here today."

"Starting from today, Lord Godfrey will serve on the Court alongside you." Jaune declared, gesturing to his grandfather with a small smile. "Officially, he will be granted the position of Overseer, stationed by my side."

Boggart jumped to his feet immediately. "Hold on mate, you sure tha' a good idea? The man tried 'ta kill ya' not too long ago!"

Jaune raised a hand placatingly. "Peace, Bog. His role isn't critical, but his aid will help immensely in our efforts. In the grand scheme, his role is to support you all in your tasks, expedite processes you need done."

"All while putting pressure on the Fundamentalist remnant faction…" Diallos murmured. Looking Godfrey over with a newfound appreciation, he nodded. "One of their former champions, pushing for this new age of acceptance; it should put quite the dent into their credibility…"

Diallos' eyes then narrowed in suspicion. "You'll still have to forgive me for not being fully convinced he won't use this position against you, my lord."

Jaune chuckled, but he was inwardly touched. Diallos was a good friend, but that often showed itself in his overprotectiveness. Him and Boggart both, the worrywarts. That being said, Jaune could see where Diallos was coming from.

But Diallos didn't know what he knew.

"He will cause you no problems, on that I promise you. My grandfather knows what's at stake, and he will aid as best he can."

Silence dropped in the room as Diallos, Boggart, and Nepheli all gaped at him in shock. Confused, Jaune glanced at each of them with a questioning eye, only to turn when he felt Godfrey lay a hand on his shoulder. Looking up at the other man, his expression was one of exasperation.

"Subtlety alludes thee as surely as the moon begets night."

Pyrrha shoved the covers of her bedroll off her body with a quiet groan. Sleep was impossible with this many bodies around, and many of them were not quiet sleepers. Silently fitting her feet into slippers, she tiptoed around the various sleeping forms carefully and made her way towards the door. A quick glance around showed that she wasn't the only one awake still, a handful of people still on their scrolls or doing something else she couldn't make out in the darkness.

When she made it to the door, she quietly slipped out and breathed a small sigh.

Now what?

Admittedly, she left the ballroom more on a whim than anything, a need for space and maybe a breath of fresh air. She was far from tired, or rather, her mind would not quiet despite the lack of energy her body had. A part of her thought of training outside, forcing herself into exhaustion, but she immediately shot that idea down. If she exhausted herself and was late to Initiation, the embarrassment would kill her! That being said, going outside didn't sound nearly as bad an idea…

Nodding to herself, she made her way outside.

Maybe she underestimated Beacon's sheer size.

Even clad in her brown flannel pj's, Pyrrha couldn't help but shiver as she shuffled down the hallway. The map had said this path led to the front courtyard, right? She thought she recognized the other building outside the windows, but it was hard to say at night time. Though the outside pathways were lit up by lamps, the actual buildings were cast in dark shadow.

Up ahead, she saw a windowed door that led outside, and she braced herself for the cold.

It… wasn't nearly as bad.

Beacon just had its A/C put to the max, it seemed.

The night air was pleasantly cool, but the chill wasn't biting. Her sleepwear provided an adequate buffer for her skin, and it wasn't very windy outside save for the rare breeze. She'd stepped out the side of the building, the path she now stood on obscured in the shadow of the adjacent buildings.

She made her way toward open air, and ended up beside a small auxiliary courtyard of some kind, circular in shape and the edges dotted with a handful of benches leaving the middle area entirely open.

And it was occupied.

Standing stock-still in the middle of the courtyard was a person clad in dark armor draped in tattered cloth. A black steel greatsword was clasped in their hands, its point embedded in the ground while their palms rested atop its pommel. A breeze rushed past, causing the figure's cape to float lazily in the wind, making the scene all the more dramatic. Pyrrha almost thought it was some kind of statue, but as soon as the thought entered her mind it left just as quickly when the person turned their head her way, and she felt her chest seize.

It must've been a trick of her imagination, but she swore that behind the darkness of the person's hood and helmet she could see the golden glow of their eyes even across the distance between them. And the presence that fell upon her…

It felt like the heavens themselves were looking upon her.

And then it was gone, washed away with another breeze that ghosted past her cheek.

"Who goes there?"

Pyrrha nearly jumped at the voice, the deeper voice of a man still laced with hints of youth. It was slightly muffled, coming from the confines of his helmet, but not by much. His words carried effortlessly through the air, ringing with an almost regal authority that made her shoulders tense.

It took a moment to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth, but eventually Pyrrha found her words. "Um… I-I'm sorry for disturbing you, sir. I can leave if you'd like."

The man was silent for a brief second before he shook his head. His sword twirled in his hands with an elegant flourish before he went to sheath it at his hip; but rather than sliding into a scabbard, to Pyrrha's amazement the sword began to disappear in motes of golden light.

"That's quite alright, miss," the man said. He turned the other direction, not sparing her another glance. "I hadn't quite realized how much time passed. Have a good night."

Shocked, both at the casual indifference as well as the briskness of the man walking away, she opened her mouth to say something, but the noises that came out were barely words. Just before he reached the corner, she finally managed to let out a strangled, "wait!"

The man turned, his head tilting slightly. It was such an innocent gesture for someone dressed in such drab attire.

"Y-You…" Pyrrha stuttered, "...you don't know who I am?"

She was really asking that, wasn't she? But the idea that someone didn't know of her was almost too convenient. The one thing she wanted, and it suddenly falls in her lap like this?

"My apologies, miss.," the man answered, confusion coloring his voice. "I'm afraid not. Is… that an issue?"

Immediately, Pyrrha backpedaled. "No! N-No, not at all I was just… nevermind."

The man stares at her for a moment, silent. His head tilts again, but he otherwise doesn't move a muscle. Pyrrha can't help but squirm under his gaze, that same otherworldly presence from before pinning her in place. Without another word, the man spins on his heel and turns the corner, disappearing from her sight.

Pyrrha breathed a sigh as the tension left her, her shoulders dropping in relief.

Still, what a weird man.

Her eyes widened as realization rapidly dawned on her.

She forgot to ask his name!

"You knew she would come," Jaune accused aloud, a fair distance away and near the edge of Beacon's main structure.

'Contrary to thy belief, I hadst not foreseen her arrival.' Marika denied, a little contrite judging from the tone. It was a reasonable assumption, she'd done far less-believable stunts before. Precognition seemed more plausible than, say, purging the influence of an Outer God from his body.

That girl though…

'Thou hath felt it?'

Jaune hummed affirmatively. "Aye. Magic clings to her, albeit faintly. It's even weaker than the magic enshrouding Ruby Rose, barely a thread. But it doesn't come from her… it's drawn to her."

"You still have yet to explain the significance behind Ms. Rose," he pointed out. He didn't forget how Marika urged him to approach her and her family, though seeing them had initially been a coincidence. "She may have magic, but given the pattern so far, that doesn't seem to be particularly alarming."

It was starting to become a concern, seeing magic so frequently. Granted, it had been only in three people so far out of the few hundred or so. Still, those odds were far higher than he initially expected. And one thing that he was quickly beginning to learn was that magic was everywhere, at least around Beacon. His little meditation in the courtyard had served a dual purpose: one of them was to allow Marika to reach out for clues. It was better to leave it to her rather than do it himself; despite his proficiency with magic, Marika's incorporeal nature afforded her an extensive ability to detect and see intangible energies in the environment. In comparison to her, his senses were duller than hers by ten-fold. The other purpose was to acquaint himself with the magic presence he first felt upon taking his first steps into Beacon, mostly out of curiosity.

It didn't take long for him to realize just how vast the ambient magic surrounding the academy was, even with his limited detection skills. It was no Raya Lucaria, where the cosmic energies were so thick it was tangibly visible in the very air, but Beacon was rife with magic particles that prickled at Jaune's senses.

Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised, given the abundance of Glintstone–or rather, Dust–here. But that didn't explain the lack of magic presence in Vale proper, where Dust was surely more abundant. Something was in Beacon… he just didn't know what.

'Her magic…' Marika began after a moment. 'I doubtest thou couldst feel it, but twas divine in nature."

Jaune stopped in his tracks. Divine? As in the gods? "You think she may be here to keep an eye on us?"

It should have occurred to him earlier that Remnant's gods may have taken notice of him already, but admittedly the thought had entirely slipped his mind. But there was also little reason for them to keep an eye on him so long as his cloak was working. With his power hidden, the magical footprint he left behind was so minimal it may as well not exist, but that might have been too careless of him.

'Nay. Gods may not hideth from me, nor their fodder. I sensed neither.' Marika proclaimed smugly. Then, with a sound akin to a sigh, she continued. 'Yet, her power may proveth useful to our cause.'

Jaune scoffed. "I'll thank you for not assuming I'll follow in your footsteps. I will not make her some kind of pawn."

He felt Marika bristle at that, a shiver running up his spine at her irritation. 'I implieth no such thing. Stem thy contempt, for thy aimless vitriol leaves much to be desired.'

A biting retort nearly left his lips before Jaune caught himself. "You're right." Taking a breath, Jaune calmed himself. He was being needlessly venomous, that much was true. It was habit at this point to question everything Marika said, but he knew it cost him nothing to reign in his temper. "I'm sorry. I see what you mean, but I'm not intent on dragging innocents into our war against the Gods."

'Where Gods are concerned, thou hath not the luxury of choice. Casualties art inevitable.'

"I will make the effort all the same," he muttered. He was no saint, and his hands were not clean of blood, but he would not throw innocent lives into the flames for the sake of their crusade.

'Then continue. Dwelleth here no longer. The presence I sensed earlier cameth from the cliffs.'

Sighing, he proceeded to Beacon Cliffs, skirting the edge of the Emerald Forest. It was a short walk, done in silence as Marika continued to observe their surroundings.

'Halt, here.'

'Here' was a hundred or so paces from the edge of the cliff, upon which was a line of metal plates embedded into the ground, each of them marked by a red cautionary symbol.

"I don't suppose it's underneath these conveniently placed metal squares?" Jaune mused, crouching down to observe them more closely. It was some kind of mechanism, a smaller square inset into a larger hole. A lift, perhaps? But why so many of them? There were about a dozen of them in total, give or take. Surely just one would have sufficed.

'Though pleasing it would be, tis not to be. This was the source, I am certain. I senseth a vague presence here, yet it flees from mine own grasp, akin to flowing water.'

Humming, Jaune tried to reach out for the presence Marika spoke of, but nothing stood out to him as remotely interesting. The ambient magic that surrounded all of Beacon may have been messing with his senses, but it was all he could detect. Letting out a sigh, he shook his head. "I feel nothing. I don't know what you feel, but there's nothing here for me."

'...that may be the truth of it,' Marika whispered after a brief moment.

"You mean there's really nothing here?" Jaune questioned. A part of him felt irritated that he'd been led on what amounted to a wild goose chase, but once again he reigned himself in and allowed Marika to explain herself.

'Mayhaps not here, yet it dwelleth nearby. Whispers of a call, carried along the wind… yet from where?'

"A call… You said that earlier…" Jaune murmured. "What kind of call?"

'The call of a maiden.'

A/N: So...

It's been approximately a month since the last update, and I do apologize for that. Unfortunately, back to school season is upon us and that has been a major pain in my ass. Because of that, going forward I can't promise that the next update will be any faster given how busy life is about to become for me, but I'll try my best to release the next chapter as soon as possible.

In other news, I finally finished the DLC!

A few of you drew parallels to Miquella at the end of last chapter, and while I would love to claim credit for some kind of genius tie-in, unfortunately that was not the case. By the time I posted chapter 5, I'd only just bought the DLC, and I actually was inspired by another mod I found on Nexus, specifically the Ranni's Promised Consort mod. Basically, it makes Ranni hang onto your shoulders much like the final boss of SOTE.

However, at the time I didn't know the significance of why the mod was made-I just really liked Ranni being on my shoulders, though I eventually got sick of her stupid-ass hair-and I really only added that last tidbit to show that Ruby's eyes give her a little more importance in this story.

So no; no Miquella business yet. Some reviews asked me whether or not I would be including the DLC in this story, and now that I've finally completed it the only thing I can say is... maybe?

I'm not entirely sure how I'm gonna tie the events of the DLC into the events of the story, but as far as early ideas go, it'll probably occur in the present. I know I said I would wait to complete SOTE before I committed to any world-building, but a lot of the DLC stuff really blew a lot of my ideas out of the water, so SOTE definitely can't have already happened.

Oh well. I'll have to do some more brainstorming, but it's likely SOTE will end up in the story, just not until later.

Now, regarding the story...

Firstly, time dilation. Er... at least, I think I'm using that term correctly.

The ratio of time is 1:26, as Jaune said above. Any unit measurement of time in Remnant is equivalent 26 units in the Lands Between. Every second equals 26 seconds, every hour equals 26 hours, etc. And then the reverse is true, too. Every 26 seconds he spends in the Lands Between, only 1 second passes in Remnant. If you remember, he spent approximately 13 years in the Lands Between, and in Remnant only 6 months passed.

If you're curious about the backwoods math that I did to get this ratio, here you go:

13yrs = 4,745d

6mo = 180d

Solve for X

180/4745 = 1/X

180X = 4745

X = 4745/180

X = 26.361...

X ~ 26

1/26 = 1:26

Didn't expect to see math in a fanfic, did ya'?

It's all approximate, and it definitely doesn't take into account the exact amount of time Jaune was actually gone, using 13 years as a nice number, but I'm sticking to it. More so to make it easier for myself. Tim dilation definitely doesn't work like that either, but eh.

Secondly, Pyrrha!

She's here, and already she's more relevant to the plot than simply being a walking death flag. I intend for her to an important role later on, but not explicitly to be the main heroine. I don't think I've said this before, but pairings are still undecided. If you're curious though, it's a toss up between three different girls, Pyrrha being one of them. I'll leave the other two to your imagination, though it probably won't be hard to tell.

That said, don't expect a decision or any sort of confirmation of the pairing soon. I'm gonna be trying this whole "slow burn" thing, at least for a little while. Remember, Jaune's been burned fairly recently: abandoned by Ranni, who is not related to him, by the way; thanks to that one comment who pointed that out. I know the whole "Radagon is Marika" business, but I'm taking some creative liberties here already, so trust me when I say that's going to be addressed at some point.

Anyway, I appreciate y'all for sticking around. Thanks for checkin' in.

Until next time!