What a weird day I have today. My nephew came over because he has a girl he likes, and she likes writing so he wanted to show me off in order for him to win her over. Like, what…? Are you trying to date her or am I…? I was also in a lesson when he arrived, which didn't help. No warning, no explanation, just him showing his prospective gf around my house for some unexplained reason.

Confusion.

Cover Art: Aristeo Storm

Chapter 28

Their last year of Signal quickly ramped things up in terms of difficulty. Exams hit harder, combat tests were more brutal, and the repeated fitness tests were designed to weed out those who hadn't made it after so many years. Ideally, those would have happened sooner and saved kids the pain of finding out they'd wasted five to six years, but then the school also had to give them time to improve.

And anyone who had stuck to the training programs would have been at the level to pass them.

There had already been eleven people who dropped out in their last year, realising at last that being a huntsman wasn't for them. They were sent to career advisors to help them explore new opportunities with their limited skills. Not that the students had been told that, but Qrow knew how it worked, having to go through this every single year as a teacher with a new batch of final years.

This was the point at which Signal had to start preparing people to be sent to one of the academies – and it wasn't a simple process. Technically, the kids had their own say, but teachers were meant to make sure they went where they would be accepted, and sometimes that meant pushing them in one direction or another.

Each academy could only take so many students but would "accept" many more than that limit, knowing their initiation programs would cut the numbers back down. However, even accepting as many as they did, it wasn't enough for every pre-academy. Your grades and combat scores had to be good enough to meet the minimum requirements – and those fluctuated.

Take this year, with Atlas having won the Vytal Festival. That academy's grade requirements had bumped up a whole level because they knew they'd be getting that many more applicants and they had to scare some away. Atlas, Mistral, and Beacon were often the most popular – which wasn't to say Shade Academy was a shithole or anything. Qrow had seen the oasis school once and it was gorgeous. It also created some stupid-resilient huntsman.

The problem was the rest of Vacuo. The desert, the sand, the heat, the hedonistic inequality – Vacuo was the destination for a stag-do but not a place that was great to live. A lot of locals from their pre-academy wanted transfers to the other schools, which flooded their applications – and they quite often won them, too. Something about growing up in Vacuo and wanting out made their students a lot harder workers than those born in gentler places.

Some stayed, of course, but not enough. Shade therefore became the "last resort" for many students – or the first resort for those whose grades weren't good enough. The school would whip them into shape just fine, however. This year, in the past, the rankings seemed to be Atlas over Beacon over Haven over Shade. It often switched around based on famous students and Vytal performances.

Point was, Beacon was contested this year. Not as hotly as Atlas, but still contested. It was just after halfway through the year when they had to send off their mid-year exam results and combat scores to their chosen schools. They were just mock exams, but it was still terrifying for a lot of people. This was the point at which the schools could write back and gently inform you that they didn't have room for you.

You were told to list all four major academies in preference order.

For Qrow, that was easy. Beacon, Haven, Atlas, Shade. He made sure Summer and Raven put the same and checked in with Taiyang to check with him as well. Three weeks later, a pall fell over Signal as the letters came back.

Raven tore hers open.

"Conditional!?" she cried. "Qrow! Qrow! What did I do wrong!?"

"Nothing," he replied, showing her his own with a wild grin. "Conditional is acceptance. It's just their way of saying you have a place so long as your final grades match or are better than your mock ones. You're in, Ray. We're both in."

Yeah, it could have been clearer, but they'd been told of this all week. Naturally, Raven had ignored the teachers and bulled on practicing her swordplay. None of this really mattered anyway since Ozpin had his eyes on them. He'd shunted someone out to move Ruby up two years and the old man definitely wasn't going to pass up on him and Raven if they scuffed their written exams.

But he didn't tell his sister that. Raven really needed to learn this stuff.

Summer and Taiyang reported their own conditional acceptances as well – and Rosebud had, too. He made a huge fuss of thanking Qrow for the extra lessons and told him his parents wanted to have him over to thank him for it all.

Funny how parents were grateful to another child for teaching theirs but often turned into entitled pricks when you were a teacher. Qrow hoped he succeeded, though the fact he'd applied to Beacon was worrying.

I don't remember a Rosebud… but maybe history has changed. Maybe he never applied to Beacon before and only did now because of me and Raven being his friend. They'd never existed in Signal before after all, and it made sense friendship circles would want to stick together. Even if not a lot has changed, I've still made small alterations like this. The fact Ray and I went to Signal this time around will subtly alter the lives of people in Signal.

It would also mean saved lives from those that would have died to Balmung and the tribe, which was a pleasant thought. Around about this time, he and Raven would have been bested by a huntsman and sulking in the tribe, asking themselves how they could ever get strong enough to challenge them and coming up with a truly harebrained scheme.

Jaune Arc levels of dumb, honestly. Maybe history really did repeat itself. Ruby had become Summer, Yang had become Raven, and the Arc kid had taken on his role – except with less sex appeal and awesomeness.

Taiyang's role…?

Hard to say, because if anyone had touched Ruby he would have killed them.

Alas, for everyone who got conditional offers there were many, many rejections. Some politely worded and implying their chosen school had too many applicants, and some a little sterner saying they had not made the cut. Teachers were on hand to help push toward other academies, and some were on hand to steer people away from a suicidal career they weren't ready for.

In the midst of it all, those that remained prepared for their last six months of Signal.

Or, as Qrow and the other teachers called it, the weening.

/-/

"FASTER! FASTER, YOU LAZY BASTARD!"

Qrow cursed and flipped their teacher the bird as he vaulted through the assault course. He had the second-best score behind Raven – because decades of experience couldn't match up to physical prowess and Raven was an agile bitch. Even still, he was doing great on the course, but that didn't matter.

This was "character building" and Qrow had been in the instructor's shoes.

And he'd enjoyed it.

"DID I SAY YOU COULD STOP? GIVE ME ANOTHER LAP!"

One lap later, Qrow thew up on the grass, and only then did the teacher let him stop. Students were crying, others were vomiting, and no one quite knew how to react to their longtime teachers becoming demons.

That was the point, though. They had six months before they'd be cast to Grimm. The student body may not have known about the existence of initiations, but the teachers sure as hell did, and they didn't want to hear about kids they'd known and taught dying. It happened, and Qrow could personally attest to the gnawing sense of guilt in your gut.

Was it your fault? Could you have taught them better? Did you neglect them in favour of others?

Often, the answer was just bad luck and shock – but that didn't matter. You blamed yourself and the deceased's parents blamed you as well for not preparing their beloved children more. Hence, the weening. A constant period of brutal training, harsh exams and live-fire survival exercises designed as a bootcamp of sorts to prepare you for life as a huntsman.

It was even more necessary for those who wouldn't be entering the academies at all. Some didn't make it but refused to give up, becoming freelance huntsmen or apprentices to others. While they would study in peace, those people would be fighting Grimm straight away and living or dying based on how quickly they adapted.

Less than 10% of those people would survive to reach thirty, but those that did often became the strongest huntsmen of their generation.

"I hate this," Summer panted, on her knees beside Raven holding her gut. "I can't feel, I can't move, I think I'm going to be sick.

"I warned you – hah – not to eat those cookies," Raven groaned.

"B—But they were right there. Ooooh. Someone had to – ulp – eat… BWAHHHHH!"

Qrow turned away as Summer expelled breakfast onto the grass. The weening was… well, he'd have said it wasn't for the fainthearted, but the truth was that it wasn't for anyone. The teachers pushed everyone equally regardless of skill, hence why even Raven at the top of the class got reduced to a mess. The point was to teach you your limits, and since everyone's limits was subjective that meant driving everyone to the breaking point.

"That was barely acceptable!" shouted their coach. He ignored the many death glares. "You think the Grimm will stop because you feel tired? Think again. Now, while you're all quiet and paying attention we have an announcement to make. There will be a live overnight camping training exercise one week from now. Two people to a team, working together to reach a destination, camp there, and then return."

Ugh, great. This.

"You're free to pick your partners but we have a rule of no mixed teams. You're all below age and we really don't need your parents on our backs about that. And yes, Branwens, I'm aware that rule makes no sense for siblings, but we're stuck abiding by it. Pick other partners."

"Shotgun." Raven said, grabbing Summer's arm.

"Like I could have claimed her when I'm not allowed to partner with a girl," Qrow groaned. "Rosebud…?"

"Yeah." The huge man waved a hand from where he was laid flat on his back. "I'll partner."

Others were doing the same and making teams, not that it'd matter much. This was still the stage of the weening where Grimm were being culled by the teachers. That'd stop soon. Before everyone graduated, they were expected to be able to kill at least one Grimm. The rule was there more for children of non-huntsmen parents like Rosebud's since every child of a huntsman or huntress had absolutely killed a Grimm already at this point. The only one on future Team STRQ who hadn't was Summer, and only because her huntsman parents had died, and her grandfather had been too old for it.

Of the rest of the class, a good 60% of those who had kept in the program were of huntsman stock, and therefore "blooded" as the teachers called it. They wouldn't have problems with just one Grimm, so the class would be separated subtly. Those who needed bigger tests would be forced to deal with two or three Grimm. Those who didn't got the one.

Was it unfair? Probably. One side got more experience. But it was also unfair to punish those more advanced children by wasting their time when they only had a few months left to prove themselves worthy of their chosen school. Lives depended on the quality of the education they received, so notions of "fairness" went out the window.

Those capable of more got more. Remnant needed its huntsmen.

Nothing else mattered.

But he did have a little work to do.

/-/

"I managed to get what you asked for," said Ozpin, settling a large bag down on the workstation. "Some of these materials were rather hard to come by. I'll consider it an investment in the future in your case, however. I'm interested in seeing what you create."

Qrow already had the forge nice and hot.

"Thanks for coming through, old man."

"I'm hardly old…"

"You are compared to me."

"How vexing." Ozpin let it go. He was only really playing the part anyway. An existence as ancient as his wasn't going to feel upset at being called an old man. "I must admit, I expected you to make your own weapon soon after your sister's. It's a surprise you've waited this long."

"Hm?" Qrow made an inquisitive sound as he collected the materials from Ozpin. "You'll have to wait a little longer, then. This isn't for me. This is for Summer."

"Oh?"

"Combat tests are getting harder and she's still using a training weapon. If she wants to get used to a proper one before Beacon, she should start practicing with it now."

"Doesn't that logic hold true for you as well?"

"I'll make mine soon." He'd been in no rush. "But I'd rather those two have good weapons that will last them."

"You're a very selfless young man, aren't you?"

"Is that how you see this?" asked Qrow, snorting. "If I were selfless, I'd make weapons for everyone and give up my own training knowing I can do more outfitting huntsmen than fighting as one. I'm making weapons for Raven and Summer because I'm selfish and want to keep them safe."

"That's hardly a bad thing."

"Never said it was." Qrow worked the metal. "You can be selfish and good, same as how you can be selfless and evil. They're only considered bad traits when you're doing something that impacts another person negatively."

"Hmmm. You're not wrong there. An axe, then?"

"Yeah." Qrow sighed. "I hate axes."

"Not cool enough?"

"It's more that they're a bitch to get the balance right – and to sharpen. It needs to be solid enough to bite into Grimm, so there's a lot of weight. But it also has to be light enough to be capable of mechashift. Swords are easy because you just have the blade bend out the way and the centre of balance is usually near the hilt anyway, but you can't just shift the head of an axe. It's most of the weight of the damn weapon."

"I think I see the problem. To deliver power, the weight must be at the head of the weapon. Will the firing mechanism be in the butt, then?"

"I considered it." Peter Port had a musket not unlike that. "But when you use an axe, you use the haft to parry attacks. It might not warp in a training fight, but a barrel needs to be hollow and good luck keeping that undamaged against the might of an Ursa."

Port's musket navigated that by acting more like a blunderbuss. The haft was mostly solid, fanning out at the end for the musket and therefore not requiring a longer rifle-style barrel. It was a simple solution to the problem, not elegant or convenient for the user in terms of everyday usage, but a quick and rough work around of how to make an axe into a gun.

"What is your idea, then?"

"I'm thinking a dust propelled singular shell in the tip – but not fired like a gun. More like… well, are you familiar with potato cannons?"

"In theory, yes. A dust charge to generate explosive force, then? Not unlike the single-shot attachment on Miss Schnee's weapon."

"Exactly."

"That'll become your style soon."

"I hope not. It's not a great solution honestly. It'd be better if it could fire multiple shots but that means hollowing out some component of this to be a barrel. She needs the haft solid, and she obviously needs the axe head itself to be solid. There just isn't any room to work with. Compare that to a sword – it doesn't really matter if the hilt and the first few inches of it are hollow. That's where the metal of the blade is strongest to compensate for it, and the force distributes evenly. On an axe, the force goes into the head and then rattles down the haft after."

"Not a fan of axes, then?"

"Isn't the whole point of it as a weapon that it was convenient in ancient times? Less metal used, easier to make, and everyone needed one to cut firewood – so you had a weapon to hand if you needed a militia raised quickly."

Ozpin smiled, no doubt lost down memory lane. "That's right. Spears were used for similar reasons but also for the ease of teaching people. Bows were prized but very hard to learn, which is why crossbows and later guns replaced them. But everyone owned two weapons in those times – a knife and an axe. Both used for cutting meat, food, lumber, or defending yourself and your family."

Good, logical reasons. Economic, logistical.

"We're not in ancient times now," Qrow grumbled. "We can afford to equip everyone with top-tier weapons, and they can have years to master them rather than have to join a ragtag army to defend their village. It really doesn't make sense for people to use them still."

"I expect personal taste plays into it."

Of course it did. Qrow respected it, he really did, and he'd acted the same way with Ruby over her scythe. Yes, technically he – Qrow Branwen - used a scythe, but he was as critical of himself as he was of everyone else, and he knew with 100% honesty that the reason he'd picked a scythe wasn't because he was adept in it or thought it was a good choice.

It was because he'd wanted to stand out in the tribe and be cool.

And he couldn't do that with a sword when Raven was stronger than him in every way and used one. He'd have fell into her shadow. So, like a stupid kid, he'd dedicated himself to a dumb weapon. And sure, he'd made it work – same as how Ruby had – but that didn't mean his reasons hadn't been stupid.

Raven and Summer were going to give him shit this time around, too.

He'd deserve it.

"The tip will fire off from a small barrel that doesn't reach below the blade," he said, commentating as he worked. "The force won't be high, so I'll compensate by making her exchangeable tips. If I make those hollow then they can act as funnels for dust reactions, basically channelling the reactive dust out the tip into the wound."

"Like a tranquiliser?"

"Yeah, that's not a bad comparison. Except less putting someone to sleep and more firing reacting dust into their body to rip them apart from the inside out."

"I trust Miss Rose will keep that out of spars."

"Eheh. Yeah, this'll be an anti-Grimm weapon."

Or a nasty surprise for Salem's minions when they underestimated her. Not that Qrow would be letting her go on that fateful mission without the whole team at her back. Preferably after he'd hunted them down first.

It took another few hours to complete the weapon's various parts and then fix them together. Luckily. Signal was equipped with some advanced machines that could take away a lot of the finer details from him and work those from a computer program into cutting machine. Ozpin helped there, not afraid to get his hands dirty if it meant furthering his own chances of success later.

And that was fine. Qrow didn't intend for Summer to not become his agent, his silver-eyed warrior. He just intended her to be safe and sound as she did, with him and Ray and Taiyang at her back.

Once it was all done, Qrow handed it to Ozpin to inspect.

"Heavier than I'm used to." He gave it a few swings. "In all honesty, I don't really know how to rate it. I've always preferred canes and swords. It feels so different to use that I'm rather lost with it all."

Qrow snorted. "Tell me about it. Like I said, it's a strange weapon to pick, especially for someone as small as Summer. But it'll bite into whatever is on the receiving end of it. It'll also shatter bone armour."

"I don't doubt that. It's a very hefty weapon." Ozpin handed it back, and Qrow laid it in the velvet and oak case, tying it closed. "Summer is fortunate to have a friend such as you. I didn't think you would ever meet, but I am glad you all did. Especially after her grandfather passed away."

"We're lucky to have Summer as our friend as well. We're planning to become a team together in Beacon as you know."

Hint-Hint. Qrow wouldn't be opposed if Ozpin put his meddling gloves on and cheated to ensure that happened. Not bothered at all. He didn't know if the old man had with Ruby and Yang's team in the future, but it would have been criminally easy to program the launch pads to pick and choose who landed next to one another. Not enough to guarantee a partnership, but enough to stack the odds in its favour.

As always, Ozpin had just smiled and pulled his typical mysterious bullshit when Qrow asked.

"I'm sure you'll be an exceptional team. I was glad to receive your applications – and Mr Taiyang's as well. Your work, I assume?"

"I want him as our fourth member. He's cool."

"That isn't the word your sister uses…"

"Eh." Qrow shrugged. "He'll win her over."

"Confident, are we?"

"Let's just say Taiyang has the makings of greatness in him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go make sure Summer knows just how lucky she is to have me."

Ozpin laughed. "Selfish indeed. Go on, then. Make her week."

/-/

Summer's excited squeals almost burst his eardrums.

And the way she leapt on and hugged him reminded him so much of Ruby.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she cried, shaking him around like a doll. "You're the best! The bestest! The most awesome! You're my best friend—"

"What was that, bitch!?" demanded Raven.

"—even better than Ray—"

"Fuck you too! Whoring yourself out for a weapon!"

"And it's even cooler than Raven's shitty, shitty sword!"

"Oh, that's it!" Raven howled. "You. Me. Training ring. Right now!"

They both ended up in the infirmary.

Next Chapter: 4th May

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