Massive storms and flooding over here. Fun times. I think it's genuinely been raining for about 30+ hours straight right now. Fields are flooded, roads are closed, garden is mushy. I had a green tea delivery (kind of a hobby of mine to collect and try them – boring, I know) got delivered and put in my post box, and the mailman decided to "signal" the delivery by placing the lid OPEN. This despite it being raining so ofc I'm not going outside to check and ofc it filled with water that, over the course of the day, turned the cardboard packaging to mush.

Went out this morning to find my mailbox is now basically a reservoir of expensive green tea.

Thanks, Royal Mail. Thanks a bunch.

Chapter 5

Mistral had a huge competition scene, and it was a much bigger deal than the ones in the other kingdoms. There was probably some deep cultural nuance as to why that was, but even at forty Qrow hadn't been the kind of guy to think much on that. He guessed it was a patriotism thing, something about wanting to be the best, or maybe Mistralians just liked fighting. He could relate to that one. Drinking was his preferred past-time, but it was remarkably hard for an orphaned boy to get a pint.

Who could have known?

The tournament scenes were broken up into professional and amateur, and then into age brackets. The professionals were akin to athletes and superstars and had included that Nikos chick that died at Beacon in their roster. He and Raven obviously weren't getting into that on their first appearance, and the worst part was there was a better-than-average chance he'd have been beaten if he did. Humiliating, sure, but being a forty-year-old man in a child's body didn't mean he could fight like his old self. He knew the moves, he had the experience, but he was short, weak, and had neither his preferred weapon, nor the aura control he was used to. It was coming back through practice, but this body – this physical body he was in – had less than half a year of aura training, and all of it came from him. It just wasn't ready to compete against some kid his age who'd been training for this since they were ten.

It was still a bitter pill to swallow. No one would know, and it wasn't like he was going to tell, but if he went and lost to some acne-riddled sprog then he was going to have to find some method to getting booze because it'd have to be burned out his memory. The things I do for my team and my nieces, thought Qrow. Yang and Ruby would laugh themselves sick if they could see me now.

"Are you nervous?" asked Athena. The huntress was such a warm soul that it made him feel uneasy. She reminded him of Summer, which was a comparison he didn't need right now. It didn't help that she was hot as all hell.

Qrow may have been a young child, but he was still an old man deep inside. He'd caught his nieces watching a cartoon once about a guy going into a fantasy world into a child's body, and he'd personally thought it was creepy how the kid got into romances with other kids. Sure, he was physically a child, but he was still mentally an adult. It was the same as how when Oz went into Oscar's head, the old man had been downright horrified at the thought that Oscar might have had a crush on Ruby. While Qrow had laughed at the time, he too had done his best to ward it off. Oscar might have been a good kid, but no one wanted to see Ozpin making out with Ruby, least of all Ozpin! The same went for here, where Qrow was all too aware one or two girls in the orphanage liked him. No way. Not happening. Now, an older woman like Athena, though? Still not happening annoyingly, because she saw him as an underage child.

Which he was. Damn, but it sucked.

"I'm not nervous about the fight," said Qrow. "I'm just thinking."

"Yes? Well, be careful not to overthink things or you'll make it even worse."

Ugh. Good advice, but delivered… well, it wasn't patronising because he was a child in her eyes and needed the advice, but it sure as hell felt it. He was a good ten or fifteen years older than the woman trying to help him out. "I'll keep that in mind. You doing okay, Ray?"

Raven was shaking beside him, though predictably not out of fear. "I can't wait! I want to fight!"

"Don't get knocked out in the first round." He couldn't afford that when they both needed to draw the attention of talent scouts from the academies. It was no good if he got in without Raven because she had to meet and get knocked up by Taiyang, or Yang would never be born.

Tai better appreciate me being his wingman before he's ever met me…

Or Raven. Yet again, it felt so wrong to be planning procreation for his sister. He wasn't letting Yang slip out of existence, however. He shook his head to throw such thoughts away. Taiyang and Raven had gotten together on their own, so it wasn't like he'd have to work hard. The only thing he needed to do was make sure they both went to Beacon when they were seventeen. The rest would take care of itself.

The professional fights had just wrapped up and the audience had thinned a little, losing about 40% of its attendance. That included some of the television crews recording it. There was a vast difference in appeal between the sponsored fights and a bunch of kids smacking heads, but there was interest enough that most stayed. Entertainment was entertainment after all, and sometimes fights professionals could get a little stale.

Qrow's name was drawn first out the hat.

Raven swore angrily.

"Good luck," said Athena, chuckling.

/-/

Ozpin hummed faintly as he noticed Leonardo lean forward in his seat, showing interest in the amateur rounds in a way he rarely had in the past. He, himself, was only here because Headmaster Browne of Beacon wanted him to take care of some of the details surrounding the Vytal Festival in Mistral. Browne was the nominal head of Beacon, and he did the job well, but he was also an ally of Ozpin's and knew the truth.

Truth or not, however, he couldn't abdicate his position to a relatively new teacher without appearing suspicious, so they had agreed that Browne should keep to the position while Ozpin worked his way up the old-fashioned way. In truth, it was nice to have a break from all the heavy work and teach for a change. Being combat professor was much more exciting than sitting in his office working all day, and he got to have a hand in shaping the next generation as well. He'd take that for another eight or so years before Browne retired and nominated him for headmaster. Salem had been quiet anyway.

"Something catch your eye, old friend?" asked Ozpin.

"A student of mine recently came and asked for me to sponsor two children into the amateur rounds." He nodded downward, and Ozpin followed his gaze. "That's one of them. I suppose I'm curious to see what caught her eye."

Ozpin hummed and watched the boy in question. The commentator introduced him as Qrow Branwen and labelled him as coming from a local orphanage. It was their job to hype up the combatants and build some degree of excitement, and the angle they went for today was of an up-and-coming underdog down on his luck. It certainly seemed to resonate, and Ozpin found himself clapping as well.

In terms of looks the boy wasn't too striking. Black hair, pale skin, smooth-faced as children his age usually were. He was lanky and thin, but more like someone having his head kicked in by puberty then from malnutrition. He'd likely fill out a little in the coming years. He carried with him a sword that was, to Ozpin's experienced eye, woefully standard. Low-quality standard as well. It was obvious it was loaned to him by the venue or bought cheap from somewhere, and it would never do as a huntsman's weapon.

"You said two?"

"The boy's sister as well. Athena and her team found them in the wilds. By the sounds of it they escaped when their family were killed by Grimm, but they refuse to talk about it as you might expect. Poor kids." Leonardo shook his head. "They brought the pair to Mistral and left them at an orphanage, but Athena – bleeding heart that she is – keeps checking in on them."

"Such care ought to be celebrated."

"Oh, it is, and I'm sure they appreciate it, but I've always said if you take every case of a hurt or bereft person to heart in our line of work then you won't have any time to breathe. We huntsman can't be everywhere. You know that better than any of us, Ozpin."

"True. True. Well, at least they're safe now."

The boy's opponent was the textbook definition of an amateur tournament fighter. He was bigger than Qrow, better equipped, but cocksure and showboating. He held out his arms and basked in the attention, and sure enough the commentator explained how Riegel Fieldings had competed in several tournaments and had come second in one. He obviously wasn't good enough to break out the amateur leagues and into the professional scene, but he was trying.

By all accounts the match was a foregone conclusion, and yet Ozpin trusted the instincts of a huntress more than he did pundits and tournament officials. He let his chin rest on his hand and smiled. Let's see what you're capable of, young man.

The fight began and Riegel rushed in with his sword and shield. He was quick on his feet, aggressive too, which was often enough when you were facing inexperienced opponents. He who struck first quite often won, or gained momentum that could be translated into a win. Qrow stood his ground, sword tilted down and not even in a guard position. It might have looked amateur to some, but to Ozpin and Leonardo it spoke of someone mocking their opponent. The stance was open, lazy, but it was too lazy. Too provoking.

A sword thrust at Qrow's face finally promoted movement. To Ozpin's surprise, the boy's left arm swept under and over Riegel's sword arm to pin it, extended, against Qrow's side. He trapped it there, locked the arm in place, then swept up and over the shield with the pommel of his borrowed sword to strike it between Riegel's eyes. He let go of the arm as he did, and the boy staggered back, shield up. Qrow struck low, however, ducking in such a way that Riegel's own shield left him unable to keep track, and swiped at his ankles. The sword bounced off armoured greaves but made Riegel stumble and fall to one knee.

Qrow capitalised by leaping forward and planting a foot on the raised shield, then kicking as hard as he could. The shield snapped back, pressed tight against Riegel to trap his arm. He tried to stab over the top, but Qrow tapped it away with his sword, then, while they were still touching, twisted and jabbed over the top of the pinned shield. Riegel's aura took a solid hit and dropped over 20%.

The blow would have taken far less off an experienced huntsman, and probably less than 5% off a student of Beacon, but children this age with weak aura control often bled off more than they needed. Plus, they were yet to fully develop their reserves. It was still an impressive showing even as the buzzer sounded and Qrow separated from his opponent.

Amateur scenes for children like this consisted of "rounds" with each good hit signalling both to back off. An understandable safety precaution when dealing with children. A flag went up to signal Qrow's point – and three would be enough for victory.

"Impressive, eh?" said Leonardo, stroking his beard. "Nothing overly shocking but the boy has good instincts for his age. Most would shake a little being charged down by a larger opponent."

"Most wouldn't think to use more than just their weapon," commented Ozpin. "I still have students in Beacon who look scandalised when I tell them their weapon is just one small tool of a larger arsenal."

"Oh right. You're the combat instructor for now. Aren't you? How is that going."

"It's fun. Surprisingly fun."

"Not going to take the headmaster's throne? You know it belongs to you."

Ozpin waved that off. "I'll let Browne keep it for now and enjoy a small holiday. Looks like round two is starting. Let's see if the young man can keep it up."

He could. The second round went as quick as the first, and the third after. The boy was clever in his movements, neither faster nor stronger than the other but far more economical. He drew Riegel into traps, baited him into over-extending, and always punished. Ozpin knew instantly that the boy's parents, however they had died, had experience in combat. They might have been retired huntsmen or simple militia trying to protect their family, but it was clear the boy had not grown up uneducated. The crowd predictably loved the upset, much to the shame and embarrassment of poor Riegel, whose only crime was to be better equipped and less skilled.

"Well, well, well," said Leonardo. "It looks like my dear student is quite the talent scout, eh?"

"You sound entirely too pleased."

"I may have made a wager on the boy."

"Really? I notice you didn't see fit to inform me of this little bit of insider knowledge," said Ozpin, playfully. "And here I thought we were friends."

"We are, Ozpin. That's why I could never see it in myself to lure you into gambling so irresponsibly."

"Ah. Of course. You have my best interests at heart. How could I not have seen that?" Chuckling, they clapped with the audience, and then awaited the second round. Be it luck, design, or alphabetical order of surnames, Raven Branwen – the boy's sister – was called up next. Ozpin was curious to see if she would fight in the same way, and rather surprised at the result.

Raven Branwen was not a technical fighter like her brother. Instead, she was a rampaging animal. He did not mean that as an insult, either. Aggression could win fights on its own, and it was better to attack than defend, but goodness he'd never seen someone encapsulate that philosophy so drastically. The young lady delivered every blow with all her might, sweeping across the mats and driving a larger boy back under the force of her assault.

Her first point came when he just couldn't keep up with her quick and powerful movements. His second came after they parted when he tried to take the initiative from her, only to be met head on – wild assault into wild assault – and have her natural agility and speed make her the victor. On the third, the boy went for an unpopular but no less valid tactic of catching the girl's long, black hair when she rushed past him, catching his weapon on hers. Her hair, reaching down to her waist, flipped up behind her and the boy caught it in his fist.

Without missing a beat, Raven swept her sword backwards and up through her own hair, cutting it in half. With a borrowed sword like that, it wasn't even cutting. Some of her hair would have been yanked painfully from her scalp, but she didn't care. The boy was left clutching half a foot of black hair when she came flying back in and sweeping the man off his feet. Her sword came up and down, smashing him into the mats and winning both on three-hits, and the louder buzzer that indicated his aura had been taken to red.

"Goodness!" said Leonardo, laughing awkwardly. "That was like watching an Ursa maul a child."

"Physically impressive," agreed Ozpin, "and it speaks of her mentality. That smile reminds me of a few students in my current crop who enjoy fighting all too much."

"I hear she spars against her brother."

"Hardly a surprise. His style seems to counter hers, but then perhaps overwhelming him with speed and force is the counter there as well. They're both quite talented."

"Aren't they just? And you know, part of the reason they're doing this according to Athena is that they want to be accepted into a pre-academy next year. Sanctum by the sounds of it."

Ozpin smiled. "Huntsmen, then?"

It wasn't surprising that they might want to take vengeance on the Grimm for what happened to them; it was a story he'd heard all too often. Most of those children didn't have enough time to learn the foundational skills, however. It took years to learn to fight. You couldn't just segue into a combat school at fourteen and hope to be on the same level as your peers. These two, however, he doubted would have any such trouble.

"I might see about getting them brought into Signal if they were in Patch or Vale," mused Ozpin. "It's a little much to expect them to move so far at this age, especially with no home to speak of."

He wondered if there was anyone he might call on to adopt them. It wasn't possible for him to do that, living and working at Beacon as it were, but it would have been convenient if he had a way to tie them to Vale and himself. It might be a little too hasty for that; let's see how they do for the rest of this. Still, they're talented and determined, and we need as many young people like that as we can get. Salem had been quiet of late but that only made him more concerned. It usually meant she had something in plan, and to combat that he had to constantly think of the next generation of huntsmen and huntresses.

And if he didn't, well, he had a feeling Leonardo would steal them out from under him.

/-/

Qrow couldn't help but feel pleased with his performance – which was a little sad. Again, he was beating on children and feeling good about it. At least he could be proud of Ray, not that he'd thought she might actually lose, but still, she was actually this age and kicking ass. He held up his fist and she bumped hers against it as she came back from dismantling her latest opponent. It felt good for them to be acting as real siblings again and not the passive-aggressive mess they'd been in their later years.

He'd never admit to having missed that before now.

"You two are doing great!" cheered Athena. "As I knew you would. You'll definitely have caught the eyes of some people now."

He thought so as well. It wasn't like it was a high hurdle to clear – Sanctum was a pre-academy – but there was still a difference between a complete nobody asking to join, and a pair of siblings who had proven themselves on the amateur tournament scene. It wasn't a great difference, but it was a difference. The teachers of Sanctum could at least be sure the two knew how to fight.

This is a good start, but I need to make sure we have a way into Beacon after. But not before. Up in the audience, he'd spotted Ozpin sat next to Leonardo and nearly had a heart attack. His old mentor and friend was right there. Younger than he remembered, and not limping, but alive and in the body he'd seen the man in most of his life. He still hadn't gotten fully used to seeing Oscar as Ozpin, even if Ozpin wasn't his real name. It was still the name Team STRQ had known him for.

Seeing him there had Qrow itching to be invited to Signal and then Beacon under his eye, but he had to stamp down such foolish desires. Ozpin would bend rules if he thought he should, up to and including sending Ruby to Beacon two years early. And if he'd bend them for her then why not for the two of them as well? Ozpin could easily decide they should go to Beacon ahead of time, missing out on Taiyang and Summer entirely.

Qrow needed the recognition, but he didn't need that much recognition. A couple of years in Haven would royally suck, especially since he'd have to spend them sober, but he'd put up with them if it meant bringing Team STRQ back together. And what if Raven fell in love with someone else? What if Yang was never born because Qrow jumped the gun and got them invited to Beacon early? He'd never forgive himself. Ruby would grow up never known her older sister.

I can't mess this up! I have a new life, but I have to make sure certain things go the same way. I have to!

"What's got you all worked up?" demanded Raven. She never asked – not his sister – but rather made demands and expected them to be followed. "You're tense as shit."

"If your shit is tense then you need to see a doctor."

Raven snorted. "You know what I mean. You're not actually feeling nervous, are you? We're kicking ass. These nobodies can't hold a candle to us."

Which was more impressive on her end than his, seeing as how he was a fully grown huntsman inside. It was hard to remember what he'd been like at this age before, but he'd hazard a guess the answer was "pathetic" and "propped up by his sister." Raven had always been the stronger of them before.

"I'm not worried about the fights," said Qrow. "Just worrying about what comes after. This is for a reason remember."

"Yeah. Yeah. Get into a huntsman academy. Get strong. I didn't forget. We could do this more, though. There's money to be made in these tournaments. Isn't there?"

"Not much on the amateur scene and we'd face much tougher opponents if we went pro."

Raven's teeth shone. "Good."

It was typical Raven. She felt invincible and powerful and wanted to test herself against others, never quite realising that she wasn't as strong as she thought she was. It was part of why she went back to the tribe the first time around. Raven was a strong huntress, but she wasn't the strongest no matter how she acted. Staying in the tribe, however, she was the biggest fish in a tiny pond, and Raven liked that feeling of superiority.

It probably wouldn't do her all that bad to get into a few fights she couldn't win. Maybe. It was hard to tell with how volatile his sister could be. And, of course, this was shaping up to be the two of them in the finals, which suited his goals just fine but wouldn't really get rid of her superiority complex. I guess that's a problem for another day, thought Qrow.

The two of them were called up for the finals.

/-/

The finals were an impressive match by all accounts, and Ozpin was sure the audience were satisfied. The pundits, especially, would be watching those two to see if they came back. He could tell with all his experience that the last match was a familiar spar for the two of them. They obviously did that a lot, and they knew their way around one another. It was a 3-2 victory to Qrow Branwen in the end, though it should have been 3-1. Ozpin was rather certain the young man had let his sister take an extra point so as not to hurt her feelings. A kind gesture.

"Impressive, eh?" asked Leonardo. He was obviously happy since he'd raked in quite a nice bit from bets. "I think I'll be speaking to Sanctum on their behalf. I might even see if they can't be brought into this year's intake."

"In the middle of the year? That's quite a bit of pressure."

"They're living in an orphanage, Ozpin. I doubt they'll balk at a chance to get out of there. As for work, there are ways to catch up and it's not like we over-prioritise theoretical subjects. The hardest thing to learn is to fight and they have that down."

Ozpin rubbed his chin, less put off by Leonardo's comments and more because of how he was being undercut. It would have been nice to approach them at the orphanage before they aware of such offers and make his own. The problem was that he didn't know what that would be since he had few options at the moment. His current most trusted agents were active, and James was still working his way up the military in Atlas.

He was young as well and wouldn't appreciate having two children dropped on his head. Ozpin would take them if he could have, but he really couldn't justify it. Children couldn't live at Beacon, and he couldn't split his time well enough to look after them. Not to mention that his record as a father was tragic at best. They deserved more.

"What orphanage were they at again?"

"Ozpin, no," chided Leonardo. "They're literally in my city. You don't get to poach them."

"I was only thinking of paying the orphanage a visit. If they want to be huntsman and huntress, then wouldn't meeting one be a good learning experience for them?"

"They already have Athena."

"Ah, but as a teacher I am better suited to answering any questions they might have. I might also make a donation to their cause. A pair of proper weapons, I think. Decent equipment can go a long way and the borrowed swords they're using are far too cheap for them."

"And this gift certainly won't be to make them feel indebted to you and draw them to Beacon later."

Ozpin smiled. "You say such terrible things."

"Because I know what you're like, Ozpin. Because I know what you're like."

/-/

Raven was in a fine mood despite losing to him in the finals. It was odd seeing as how his sister before would have never accepted being second best, but here she took it as a point of pride, as if they were a unit. She hadn't lost; they had won. And, of course, everyone at the orphanage had been watching and the kids cheered their triumphant return as if they were heroes returning from war. Naturally, Raven ate it all up as if it were both expected and deserved. Her clique closed around her, telling her how great she was and how cool she'd looked.

"Your brother was cool as well," said Cathy, not even subtle about her interest anymore.

"Well of course he was," scoffed Raven. "He's my brother."

"What are you gonna do with the money?"

"We'll be donating it to the orphanage," said Qrow, before Raven could get a word in.

His sister shrugged anyway. Money to her wasn't as important as glory, not at this age anyway. The real prize was the attention they'd get and the chance of being shipped into Sanctum early. The prize money would have been more useful to him. The real downside of being de-aged that no one talked about, other than beer or women, was money. A person adapted their lifestyle to their earnings and kids were used to getting by on limited funds. Once you started wok however, it was hard to understand how you'd ever managed.

It wasn't just bills but having the freedom to buy what you wanted. Qrow had never been rich, but he hadn't been poor either; not as a huntsman. He'd been well-off enough to buy whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and still have enough to spoil Yang and Ruby rotten and put some away in a trust fund for them as well. Realising he didn't even have a bank account here, let alone cash inside it, was fundamentally upsetting. It wasn't even that he had stuff he wanted to buy, but just knowing he had no backup money was painful.

But the orphanage needed this where he didn't, and the matrons had taken him and Raven in, clothed, and fed them. A child might accept that kind of charity because they needed it, but he was a forty-year-old man, and it pained him to be so in their debt. Or to be taking advantage of them this much. There were kids who needed this so much more than he did, and he'd be damned if he was going to be a burden to good people like them. Or anyone.

The matrons would probably refuse but he'd force the money down their throats if he had to.

He and Raven were shipped off for a bath and then a big meal – it turned out the matrons had organised a celebratory feast to mark their victory. It was nothing special compared to what most kids got. They had hamburgers, fries, and chicken nuggets, along with ice-cream and sorbet. A real treat to orphans. There were balloons too, and more than a few cases of the matrons having to convince kids to put down sticks and stop trying to mimic him and Raven before they poked each other's eyes out.

It was fun, he supposed, but kind of embarrassing on his part. Again, a forty-year-old man wasn't going to feel quite right sat surrounded by kids with a party hat on his head and a balloon in hand. No one could see him like this. No one! It was even worse when a cake was brought out and all the kids squealed and clapped, and he had to be the one to cut it while the matrons watched on supportively.

His ego was taking a battering…

"Qrow. Raven." The head matron called out to them before bedtime. Another stickling point to him. Qrow Branwen did not go to bed at eight. Not unless he'd been out drinking. "There's someone here who wants to talk to the two of you."

Already? Qrow's excitement bubbled but he stamped it down quickly. He suspected the headmaster of Sanctum, or even Leonardo Lionheart himself, but it could honestly be anyone. He wouldn't put it past some greedy adults to want to adopt them after the tournament win either, if only to cash in on what they must have thought was about to be a lucrative career.

There was always unconscious bias toward popular people, even if the people doing the adopting didn't realise they were acting that way. Two orphaned kids was a shame; two orphaned kids who beat the odds to compete and beat luckier children was an underdog story, and everyone loved underdogs.

He was on guard either way. Parents might be what most orphans wanted but they'd be a major thorn in his side, especially if they tried to control their upbringing. He had plans, and those plans couldn't fall to the wayside because some well-meaning parents wanted the best for them. The last thing he expected was to see a familiar, if younger, man stood in the entranceway with the head matron.

"Good day," said Ozpin, all smiles. "Might I have a moment of your time?"

Next Chapter: 28th October

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