"What was taken by force can only be restored by force."
-
Gamal Abdel Nasser


"You heard him as well as I did Adam, it's over — we can stop!"

"The humans don't get to decide when it's over, Blake! Pretty words and false promises aren't enough."

"Then what will be enough? There are equality laws everywhere on Remnant, and Menagerie's even a kingdom of its own! The humans recognize us now, Adam. All of them. If that doesn't mean it's over, what does?"

"When they've paid. They can say what they want, but humanity still thrives off of faunus labor. They heat their homes, they fuel their war machines, and they fund their hedonism with the blood and sweat that have been taken from our people for the last thousand years."

"Is that all it is now, then? Revenge?"

"That's what it's always been, Blake. That's always been the goal; to let humanity taste the suffering we've been put through at their hands. It won't be over until we have our rightful place in the sun and it is the humans exiled to the edges of Remnant, consigned to grimm bait and labor."

"Do you even hear yourself Adam? What you're saying is madness. This isn't what Sienna would have wanted."

"Sienna is dead. I lead the White Fang now. Now that we're no longer busy bleeding for his ends, we can decide our own course."

"So decide the course of peace! You're free to now that the human isn't commanding us, you said it yourself."

"There will be no peace until the humans bow before us. That is the goal of the White Fang. I won't debate it anymore — do as you're told, Blake."

"Blake!"

Blake started as she felt a hand grab her shoulder, shoving it off and turning to see who had grabbed her.

"Illia." Blake brothe a sigh of relief. "Sorry, just… lost in thought."

"I'll say." her friend muttered, taking a long stride to stand next to her. Blake turned back to where she'd been looking before, watching from atop a train car as White Fang bustled about the large warehouse offloading cargo and distributing supplies. Weapons, armor, ammo, dust, food, water, even scrolls for everyone who wasn't a grunt.

"Everyone's getting an upgrade." Illia commented, "Guess that human bastard paid well for our help in Vacuo. I've gotta be honest, I was wrong on this one. Who'd have thought, a human keeping a promise they weren't forced to."

"Watch it." Blake hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard her.

Illia shot her a weird look. "What's up with you today? It's not like he's here. He's probably in Mistral, lounging with the Schnee. He'd never be caught dead in a place like this."

"He has more ears than you can know." Blake muttered carefully, scanning the warehouse with narrowed eyes. "Watch what you say about him."

Illia rolled her eyes. "Relax a bit, everyone here is faunus, Blake. They wouldn't sell out their own kind."

"You'd be surprised." Blake sighed, finally letting her shoulders fall. "Adam won't whisper a word about him with anyone within twenty feet of us, even the commanders. He's not someone you should treat so lightly."

Illia scowled. "I've been told what to do by enough humans, I'll talk about him however I like. He might act better than the rest, but they're all the same. Hateful. Cruel. Don't let him paying us to do his dirty work distract you from the fact he's buddy-buddy with all those people in high society like the Schnees."

Blake bit her lip. If he was so friendly with the Schnee, why had he funded the White Fang to attack them for so many years? Why had he helped Sienna take power, and why had he gone to war with Atlas? Why had he dissolved the SDC? It didn't add up. Speaking of which…

"I don't get it." Blake whispered softly, ever conscious of the enhanced hearing many faunus possessed. "The SDC is gone, the work camps are abolished, equality's been written in stone everywhere on Remnant, Menagerie is a kingdom — why are we in Vale?"

Her childhood friend shrugged. "Probably because it's the only kingdom the human doesn't have his claws in. I'm sure he wants us to fight a war for him here, just like the last one."

Blake bit her tongue, feeling the lien chips in her pocket she hadn't had a chance to spend yet. She knew that wasn't true, but she knew better than to say so. She'd have thought the same thing a couple weeks ago, but now…

We can finally decide our own course.

For so long Blake had thought that Adam's 'course' would be a peaceful one, and that they only had to resort to violence because of his manipulations.

Now, watching as crates of dust explosives were offloaded into a peaceful kingdom that had had faunus equality laws before any other, she wasn't as sure. This seemed dangerously close to actual terrorism, rather than fighting a war for justice.

"Racism still exists, Blake." Illia said sympathetically, grabbing her hand. "Just because it's been written down on paper doesn't mean equality is actually enforced. There are still racists in positions of power, humans still discriminate against us, and they won't stop just because of some words."

Blake wanted to scream. Did they really think that hurting people would actually solve anything? Sure wounds were still fresh, and there were still racists, but with time...

She kept her mouth shut, holding back a laugh at even suggesting the idea. Illia would ask her if she was feeling alright, and Adam just might hit her.

'It takes time? You want us to wait? For what, the humans to change their minds when they feel like it? No, we need to make them.'

You can't make someone change their mind. Blake wanted to say. The more people that died by the hands of faunus, the more humans would begin to ostracize them, and the more humans would begin to treat them worse until every human on Remnant saw the faunus as the enemy. What then, kill every human?

As if.

Glancing at Illia, Blake shook her head and turned away. Adam hadn't listened to her, but she'd hoped Illia…

No, she was alone in this. Always alone.

Bitterly, Blake accepted that the White Fang might not be the same one she'd joined — the same one she'd left her family for.

She was suddenly reminded of all of the times Adam had used unnecessary violence, executing prisoners, burning settlements, razing villages. She'd taken those bitter pills with the excuse that the crime lord was forcing their hands, that he was pulling the strings. Yet now that she'd been witness to one of their meetings, he was the one arguing for peace while Adam plotted violence. If it turned out he wasn't forcing the White Fang to do all of the horrible things she'd been forced to bear because it was the only option…

What did that mean for what the White Fang had become?

What did that say about what Adam had become?

If the White Fang — if Adam — was going to repeat the crimes of Vacuo in Vale without the orders of the criminal-turned-emperor forcing his hand, Blake knew she couldn't be a part of it.

No, she'd give him the benefit of the doubt, at least. She owed him that, at a bare minimum — the chance to prove that he was better than Perseus had forced him to be.

Until the day she was proven wrong, Blake would do what she could to improve the White Fang from the inside, to keep it fighting for justice.

But now she found herself wondering…

If they were fighting for justice, who was there left to fight?


"Everything in life is about sex. Except sex. Sex is about power."

- Oscar Wilde

Percy held up his glass for a refill, humming his thanks when Cinder topped him off and taking a long draw from it. Red wine still wasn't his go-to, but he was beginning to warm up to it. Or maybe that was the alcohol talking.

Not that it mattered.

Filling her own glass, Percy's eyes followed Cinder as she set the bottle aside and curled up on the other end of the couch. They sat together in front of a crackling fireplace, Percy sitting in only his jeans while Cinder had redressed with just a pair of denim shorts.

"How'd you know where to find this place?" Percy asked, his gaze breaking away from her and looking around the room.

"I asked." Ciner sipped her wine. "The Schnee had to have somewhere in the city they'd bought to stay at whenever they didn't feel like taking the trip down to their manor, if not multiple somewheres. As it so happens, this is their smallest and most out of the way. I'd heard it was used for more discreet guests."

Percy chuckled, looking at the banner of the Schnee emblem that lay crumpled on the floor from where it'd been torn off the wall. "Quite some information you can get just by asking."

She smirked. "What can I say? I'm a people person."

Percy scoffed playfully, rolling his eyes. At least she respected him enough to not even try putting up the innocent act anymore.

"Not to interrupt the fun." Cinder drawled. "But we'd be remiss if we went the entire day without discussing our plans for the future."

Percy let out a loud groan as he stretched, but wasn't actually bothered. He couldn't agree more, really. But that didn't stop his body from protesting as he sat his glass aside with a final swig and stood up to begin dressing.

"What time is it?" he groaned, glancing out the window. It was dark out, but other than that he had no clue.

He occupied himself by pulling on a sock and searching briefly for the other.

"Twelve thirty." she told him, setting down her scroll.

Percy let out a low whistle. "Didn't we get here at noon?"

The hint of a smile played at Cinder's lips. "Just after it, yes."

Lifting a wad of drapes from where they lay on the floor and looking under them to no avail, Percy huffed frustratedly. "Where the Hades did you throw my belt?"

Cinder shrugged helplessly. Giving up, Percy grabbed his shirt and put it on, only to find it stretched hopelessly large for him. Sighing, Percy pulled it off and tossed it into a corner, flopping down on the couch where he'd been a minute ago. Lifting an arm and sniffing, he recoiled. He'd need to shower anyways.

"Are you ready to talk now that you have your socks?" she poked, amusement dripping from every word.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." he rolled his eyes. "You gonna tell me the plan you thought up weeks ago or not."

Cinder rolled her own eyes faintly. "Yes, I am. While I don't know where the spring or winter maidens are, and the summer maiden is… uncooperative, I have a good relationship with the fall maiden."

Percy perked up, adjusting himself on the couch. "Oh?"

Cinder nodded. "We're in a unique situation. We have control over all the vaults but one — whether you realize it or not — while we control one maiden. However, maidens can only unlock the vault to which they belong. The fall maiden can only unlock the vault of choice, in Vale, the only one we don't have access to. The vaults under our control — creation, knowledge, and destruction — can only be unlocked by their own maidens. This is… unfortunate, but what it does mean is that the moment we have access to Vale's vault or know where one of the remaining maidens are, we will possess a relic."

Percy nodded, doing his best not to think about the two relics he already possessed. "So we try to find Vale's vault, while searching for the summer, spring, and winter maidens."

Cinder hummed. "Yes. Though, with all the commotion in Atlas you can be sure the Winter maiden will be laying low for now. It will be near impossible to find them, especially as you don't directly own the land — I wouldn't waste your time. Summer is a known quantity, but… hostile. If you can find her, she will kill whoever you send and then disappear into the desert."

Percy raised an eyebrow. That didn't quite sound like Samara — Summer, whatever — but he recalled that she'd talked about being harrowed by factions trying to gain her for themselves. It wasn't unlikely that Cinder's employer was one of those factions.

"So that leaves the spring maiden, and the vault of choice. Since your base of power is in Mistral, with any luck it won't take long at all to find the spring maiden when you direct your people to look for her. Which leaves the vault of choice as the best objective for us to focus on now."

Percy hummed. He knew it had more than nothing to do with the fact that Cinder apparently controlled the fall maiden — and wasn't that a revelation — and she needed to control either the maiden or the vault to have leverage over him, but all the same knowing where the last vault was was not an unattractive prospect. It was his sole blind spot. Even if he couldn't get the relic, he knew where the vault of creation was and could now protect it. He knew where the relics of knowledge and destruction were. But if someone went after choice in Vale, he'd be helpless to stop them.

"Okay." Percy granted, "Let's say we go with that — how do I go about finding the vault?"

Cinder's finger circled the rim of her wine glass carefully. "It's almost certainly within Beacon somewhere, but we haven't been able to locate it. He watches that one carefully."

"The disgraced king." Percy caught himself, nearly calling Ozma by name before remembering that Cinder hadn't actually told him their names.

"Yes." Cinder confirmed. "You're quite familiar with him already. The name he currently wears is Ozpin."

He'd never been great at acting, so he just kept a straight face as though he were concealing his surprise. "While that's certainly a revelation, this doesn't answer my question; if Ozpin is the disgraced king watching over Beacon, how do you propose sneaking in?"

"This is where you come in handy." Cinder smirked. "No sneaking. Unite Remnant under one flag. March on Vale, and secure the vault of choice."

"No." he denied flat out. "I'm not going to invade Vale just to find their vault, not until Vale attacks first or there's a reason to think Ozpin's about to use it. Since you have the fall maiden, that's obviously not any time soon. I won't start a war where one can be avoided."

Cinder scowled slightly, a shift in her posture screaming frustration. "Fine, then. Peace it is — simply state your intentions to be involved with this year of Beacon initiates. There are enough interesting candidates to validate your interest, after all."

Percy tensed at the implication, but Cinder waved it off as she reached for her scroll. "Don't be so tense, I make it my business to know what's going on at Beacon — that's all." Tapping the screen a few times, she handed it to him. Percy scrolled through a list of applicants for the upcoming initiation in a few weeks — the ones that had applied already, at least. "The heiress to the Schnee fortune — what remains of it — the most prodigal fighter Remnant's seen in living memory, the nieces of Qrow Branwen, and three of your own agents."

Percy glanced up curiously. "Three?" Assuming she was talking about Ren and Nora, he was at a loss for who the third could be. Maybe Yang, but Cinder had already mentioned her as Qrow's niece.

"The boy with the pink-tipped hair, the red-haired hammer-wielding girl, and the blonde with the sword and shield."

Scrolling until he found who she was talking about, he shook his head, handing her scroll back. "The blonde's not mine."

She frowned, studying the kid smiling haphazardly at the camera. "Your agents provided fake transcripts for all three. I did the due diligence myself — none of their records match up, and they're all officiated by the same assessment board."

Percy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Someone else's agent?"

Cinder looked at the picture carefully. "Perhaps… You could have him intercepted and questioned. Discreetly, of course."

Percy shook his head slowly. "Whoever he is, he used my network to forge his transcripts. If his interests run counter to ours, he wouldn't have used my network to get in."

"Which means…" Cinder urged him to continue.

"Either he's after something I don't care about and isn't afraid of me knowing he's there, he's an amateur and not something to be worried about, or he is there for something that has to do with me, and wants me to know he's there."

Cinder smiled cruelly. "Good thing I noticed. Otherwise, your own people would have forged the transcripts for a potential assassin to gain access to your protege and you'd never have known."

Percy scowled. The Malachites.

Low on patience when it came to the Malachites was what he'd been weeks ago. Now, he was done. How long had things like this been happening and he just hadn't been aware? Had the Malachites been the one to provide Pyrrha's assassin with a fake passport? What else was only allowed due to the Malachite's newfound streak of negligence?

"So, Beacon…" Cinder trailed off, bringing them back on topic.

Percy's scowl deepened. "I'll consider it," he told her. "But at the least, I'll have some of my agents with access to Beacon do some poking around — the ones you know about included. But I have an empire to run, I can't drop that to play spy on a whim."

Cinder frowned deeply, back to running a finger around the rim of her wine glass. "I'm not sure you understand the significance of these relics, Perseus. A single relic in the hands of someone who knows how to use it will render your armies next to useless."

"And who does know how to use them?" he asked, trying to make sure his suddenly peaked interest didn't come off too obvious.

When Cinder remained silent, he sighed and pushed himself off the couch. "That's what I feared. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go hop in the shower, I reek."

As Percy washed himself under the warm relaxing stream of water, he thought about everything that had happened that day. He'd make sure to visit Beacon at some point, but he didn't think he could dedicate all that much time to it. Pyrrha and Winter's sister being there was convenient, don't get him wrong, but so long as they were safe he had other priorities.

Speaking of which, Cinder was officially important enough to him that he knew he wouldn't put his hormones before business, as evidenced by the last dozen hours, apparently. But she knew about the relics and maidens, as he'd suspected she might, and she had a boss who wanted to meet him.

Who that boss was, Percy could only guess. It had definitely occurred to him that it could be Salem, but after what Cinder had told him he didn't find he'd mind that all too much.

Don't get him wrong, she was still responsible for the grimm, still driven mad with power and grief, and would still likely have to die, but even though every previous experience had taught him the world wasn't black and white, he still hadn't thought to look for the gray in the seemingly black and white battle between Salem and Ozma.

So yes, if Cinder's story was as true as he feared then Salem would still have to be stopped, but so would Ozma. He had worked with Ozma, he could work with Salem — he could use her. Just until he knew what 'RWBY' was that was so important to Remnant, and had all the information — or at least wasn't stumbling around in the dark. He didn't want to take the fight to Salem only to find out that 'RWBY' somehow meant the answer to solving all the world's problems was helping Salem redeem herself.

That was one of virtually infinite possibilities, of course, but the point was that he didn't have all the information — or any of it when it came to what was seemingly far more important than the relics, Ozma, Salem, the grimm, and the fou- six kingdoms combined. Now that he had the perspective from Cinder's story, until he found the answer to the question that was RWBY he couldn't dedicate himself to any one course of action.

The problem, among others, was that he had no idea where to begin. Where did he even start looking? The answer could lay anywhere from the heart of the grimmlands to just outside his window.

Washing the last suds out of his hair and shutting off the faucet, Percy knew he had his work cut out for him.


"It is more difficult to rule yourself than to rule a city."

- Jordan Peterson

The sound of wooden cabinet doors opening and shutting echoed through the otherwise silent room, Pyrrha busying herself looking between Percy tearing the small kitchenette in the corner apart looking for who knows what, and the view provided by the ceiling to floor window she sat next to.

Argus seemed bigger than she'd ever really thought of it as, from here. She'd spent a good part of her childhood here, but it always felt smaller than it appeared now at the top of the governor's tower.

"Found it!" Percy exclaimed, and Pyrrha looked back to see what it was he'd been hunting for.

He held a large black — and obviously alcoholic — bottle in the air, slamming the final cabinet door shut before unscrewing the cap and beginning to pour the bottle into a metal thermos.

"Seventeen's the drinking age here, right?" He asked her, which Pyrrha thought was a tad bit weird considering he ran the country. "You want a white russian?" he continued when she nodded.

Pyrrha looked at him strangely, "A what?"

Percy pantomimed hitting himself on his head, which Pyrrha took to mean she wasn't the weird one for having no idea what he was talking about.

"A drink." he explained. "Cream, vodka, kahlua." he held the dark bottle up, giving it a quick shake before slotting it back into the cabinet.

"Uh… sure?" she answered. She'd never had any of those things before, but she was seventeen now. If Percy said it was okay…

He shook the metal thermos-thing up and then poured it into two fancy glasses, walking over to the small table she was sitting at and putting one in front of her before sitting himself. She grabbed her glass, filled to the tip with the white foamy drink, and he held his up to meet hers with a soft clink.

Pyrrha took a sip and waited for the bitter taste she expected from an alcoholic drink, but found it mostly creamy and sweet — like melted ice-cream, with a faint undertone of a tingling burn that flushed through her body a moment later. She looked at it. This is what alcohol tastes like? She'd heard it was a horrible taste, but she didn't get what the fuss was about.

"I didn't know you knew how to make drinks like this." she commented lightly to escape the silence, taking another sip.

He shrugged, taking a sip from his. "When it comes to the kitchen I can scramble eggs, toast bread, and make a white russian. That's about it. My step dad taught me when I was just a little younger than you — it's a really simple mix, but it was a few years before I got a chance to make one so I consider myself lucky for remembering it."

"Your step father?" Pyrrha prodded, curiosity tinging her voice. Wasn't he half god? She supposed it wasn't out of the question to have a step father, but it seemed… a bit too normal, really, for what she imagined his family to be like. Too mundane. Maybe she was overthinking it.

He nodded, "I told you my dad's Neptune, right? Or at least, your image of him is the closest equivalent you guys have. Anyway, my mom married after she had me. Twice, actually. Long story, but the second one was the good one."

"Do you have any siblings?" Pyrrha asked curiously. She had her little sister, but they were distant at the best of times, and since she'd become friends with Yang and started going to Signal full time, they'd only had a handful of conversations more than a few words long. They didn't hate each other or anything, they were just… different people.

Percy snorted, apparently finding the question funny. "More than I could possibly count, or meet. My dad's been around a few eons, and had a lot of time to get it on in that time. Nothing on my mom's side, though. At least, last time I checked." he said wistfully. He glanced out the window at the setting sun, but she got the feeling he wasn't really looking at anything.

"Have you seen them recently?" she asked. "Your family, I mean."

"Nope." he upended his glass, swallowing until only ice was left, "Not in five years. I've been here. How've you been enjoying Mistral? Have a good break?"

Catching the hint, Pyrrha went along with the deflection. "I guess. I've been training a lot, with some of the house huntresses. I think they've gotten rusty, though. They're not as good as they used to be."

Percy poorly hid a grin by lifting his glass and tipping a half-melted ice-cube into his mouth. "They're not worse, Pyr, you're just better." he said, pausing to crush the piece of ice in his mouth. "Huntsmen don't peak until the late middle ages because of aura's effects on aging. Trust me, the younger ones have probably gotten better since you were last there themselves."

Pyrrha shook her head firmly. "I'm telling you, they're letting themselves slip. I could even consistently beat a few of them. I know I'm good for my age, but they're real huntresses. I'm thinking about talking to father about it."

Percy chuckled and reached over to tousle her hair, which she tolerated for a moment but put a stop to rather quickly. "Atta girl. Beating full fledged huntresses at sixteen. You're not just good for your age, Pyr. You're record breaking."

She flushed. "But still, I-"

"I get it, I get it," Percy cut her off, "I'll talk to Heather about sending someone to evaluate them. That being said, it shouldn't be an issue much longer."

Pyrrah shot him a curious look. "How come?"

"It's been officially illegal to privately hire huntsmen for some time," he reminded her. "It's just that the great families could get away with it. Now that I can officially put my foot down, there'll be some changes. Security will still be a thing, but the pseudo private armies the families have had running around since the meeting of the second estate," he winced, and Pyrrha made sure not to outwardly react at the reminder of his coup. "Well, they're done. Same with the huntsmen serving private detail. I'll be upping the pay for huntsmen, though, so they don't need to turn to private work to survive. Gods know it's a drop in the bucket compared to the settlements they'll be saving and something that should've been done decades ago."

"Why wasn't it?" she asked, finding herself doing that a lot this evening.

"Corruption." he summarized. "It was in the nobility's best interest that they could use the huntsmen, low wages would drive huntsmen to seek private work, and who cares if a few settlements go under."

He must have noticed her wince, because he jostled her lightly over the table. "Hey, you gotta take the good with the bad Pyr. Ignoring the worse parts of reality doesn't fix them — it just means you never deal with them."

She nodded wearily, "I know that, I just haven't heard the families talked about like that in a while." she said, thinking back to her last few days at Sanctum. Since the initial outrage, while things hadn't returned to normal per se, nobody had spoken about the great families in such a way with her present.

Percy made a hum of understanding, and swiftly changed the subject. "Speaking of growing up, how'd your lessons with Shiro go?"

Pyrrha shifted uncomfortably. In the month after the conference in Atlas that she'd spent in Mistral, Percy had arranged for Shiro to take her along with him for parts of his day, to teach her various lessons about leadership and statecraft.

What he was teaching her for exactly, she had no idea. She found the entire thing agonizing. She didn't want to be there, Shiro didn't want her to be there, nobody Shiro worked with wanted her to be there, and she really failed to see the point of the whole thing. She was a huntress — she didn't need to get lectured on economics by Perseus' right hand. Really, talk about overkill. She didn't even know how to pay taxes and she was being taught why and how to set them.

As the heiress to a great family she'd been educated on how to manage the house growing up, but the things Percy had Shiro teaching her were on a different level entirely.

"That bad?" He grimaced when she remained silent.

"I'm a huntress." she rushed to explain. "I know what you're trying to teach me is important, I just can't see it ever being useful."

Percy shook his head. "You're not a huntress, Pyr."

She began to object that just because she hadn't made it into an academy yet didn't change her choice of career, but fell silent when he rose a hand. "You're the heiress to a great family of Mistral. Don't get me wrong," he raised his arms in mock surrender when she shot him a look, "Your future is yours to decide — I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm not going to be dragging you to banquets or anything and you will become a great huntress one day — but my point is that while you've been afforded a lot of privileges growing up, you have a responsibility to your people. Remember what I told you all those years ago, on the first bullhead ride out to the grimm forest?"

Pyrrha took an idle sip as she thought back to it, only to find her drink had run empty. It was a long time ago, but those few months had been some of the more memorable of her life — the few trips they'd taken outside the Nikos estate even more so.

"That it wasn't my responsibility to worry about the people of Mistral yet because I was still a kid, but that it would be when I was older."

He nodded happily, and Pyrrha smiled. "I'm glad you remember. I think you know what I'm about to say next, Pyrrha."

She frowned. "Now that I'm an adult, I need to help take care of the commoners. I get it, and I want to help them — I really do! — it's just… dad still handles everything as head of the family. There's not really anything I can do from my position as heiress."

Percy hummed, slamming back the drink and letting the last few tiny ice-cubes fall past his lips. "Now this isn't public yet so I need you to keep this to yourself, but today I've announced a few changes regarding the nobility. One of them is what we talked about earlier, with using private huntsmen. Another is property reform — the old system is archaic, and really not working as it should. Nobility won't be the only ones that can own property anymore." he told her.

Pyrrha stared back at him with wide eyes. She was far from politically savvy, but even she knew how big of a change that was — that would be a huge hit to the families. Right to own land was, at its core, the difference between the nobility and commoners.

"Effectively each family will be granted their estates and the few other personal properties they can genuinely lay claim to, but otherwise every bit of land in Mistral goes to the state to be auctioned off. There're a lot of details, but that's the gist of it."

Pyrrha's eyebrows drew together in concentrated thought. "Between the land reform, removing the nobility's ability to employ huntsmen and private forces, and the political non-interference established after you were made a great family… what power does the nobility have?"

Percy shot her a pleased grin. "Exactly. See? You do have a penchant for this stuff. The nobility will be a very rich group of defunct plutocrats. They still have certain rights commoners don't, but I'll be sorting that out over the next couple weeks. That being said, the one privilege I don't intend to remove from nobility is the right to own entire settlements or even regions. Personally, that's the only way I can see the nobility sticking around, like the Belladonnas and Asturias'. Which reminds me," he snapped his fingers as if suddenly remembering something, slapping the small table and rattling both of their empty glasses. "I haven't given you your gift yet."

Pyrrha tried not to perk up. Don't get her wrong, spending most of the day with Percy's undivided attention had made for a great birthday by itself and she would've been happy without a present — truly — but she knew to expect one from him all the same.

He'd gotten her a gift every birthday since he'd started teaching her, and his were always the best. Milo and Akouo, a great set of armor she still wore today — even if it had to be reforged over the years — the tiara she wore even now, and a couple other unique gifts over the years. She'd say he outdid himself every year, but if she were honest Milo and Akouo were still her favorite by far.

Still, she felt some excitement as she waited for him to show her what he'd gotten her this year.

"Have you figured out why I flew you out here, Pyr?" he asked.

She blinked, suddenly reminded she'd been flown out to Argus to meet him today, and they were currently sitting in the empty governor's tower. As far as she knew, the building hadn't seen any use in the year since Atlas' first invasion.

Since Percy tricked them into invading her mind whispered.

But either way, Percy was eccentric enough at times that she'd just gone with the flow. "Because you were coming from Atlas and wanted to meet me half way?" she guessed.

He barked out a laugh. "Fair enough, but no. I brought you here to show you your gift."

Pyrrha's features scrunched in confusion. "Should I have seen it by now?"

Percy shot her a knowing smile. "Trust me, you've seen it."

She frowned, glancing around the room. "Am I missing something?" she asked, bringing her attention back to him.

He just smiled softly and waved at the window. "Happy birthday, Pyr."

Her frown deepened, looking out the window. Had he gotten her a bullhead or an airship or something she wasn't noticing? That'd be overboard enough she considered it was actually feasible, but she balked at the thought of anyone spending that much on her.

If anyone would, though, she knew it'd be Percy.

Thankfully, after nearly a full minute of searching the horizon she still couldn't find an airship waiting for her in the clouds. Huffing frustratedly, she turned to him and gave him her best pout. "Can you stop messing with me and tell me already?"

He laughed, but gestured out the window again. "I figured showing you your gift was better than telling you."

Pyrrha's eyes combed over the scenery, all the way from the city square beneath them to the hills just past the city walls in the distance. "I don't get it, what's out there that you're giving me?"

"All of it."

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"What do you mean 'all of it'?" she managed eventually.

"All of it." he repeated. "I'm giving you Argus."

She looked for signs of amusement or hints that this was some weird joke he was playing on her, but found nothing more than a sincere smile.

"What-" she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "What does that mean exactly?"

"I told you everything was being redistributed — as a member of nobility, I'm granting you the settlement of Argus and everything inside it. Your word is law here, and barring me you're the ultimate authority on everything that happens within Argus' walls."

She gaped at him. "I've had a month of lessons, I can't run an entire settlement, much less one as large as Argus! That's what- almost half a million people whose lives I might ruin!"

"Relax, Pyrrha." he told her, reaching over to rest a hand on her shoulder. Slowly, she controlled her breathing. "If you'd like, you can leave everything up to the settlement's council and local government and it'll all run without a hitch. The only difference is that I'm expecting for you to take a cut of the taxes for whatever you might want to do in the future, so I've lowered your expected tax burden accordingly. If you don't do anything, all that'll happen is that Argus' citizens get a nice tax break."

"Tax?" she asked incredulously. "I have to pay you taxes for Argus? I don't even know how I'd collect the money in the first place, much less give it to you!"

He laughed. He laughed! The nerve!

"It's called a tax bureau, Pyr, and you already have one. I'm not expecting you to run the place by yourself — far, far from it. The settlement's government exists solely to help you keep the place running. You paying tax to me is the same as Mistral collecting tax from Argus. You are Argus, in the same way that I'm Mistral. The taxes, the police, the courts, everything — is all yours. But like I said, you don't need to do anything. Trust me, the local government won't make a fuss if their new teenage overlord doesn't hop to ordering them around."

She let out a deep breath, feeling much of her tension disappear.

"Okay." she nodded to herself. "Okay, so… pretend this is all just a joke and carry on with my life."

Percy snickered. "If that's the plan you wanna go with, go for it. Let's see how long that holds up. Either way, the chairman of the council will be in touch to get you up to speed with the settlement's situation."

Pyrrha groaned, burying her face in her hands.

He laughed lightly at her expense, but reached a hand over to rub her back. "Come on now, cheer up. Seriously, nobody expects you to be some prodigal governess. You can relax. Everyone will be very patient. Listen to the council, let them run themselves for a bit, and you'll do just fine. I promise."

She removed her face from her hands but stayed slouched. "Beacon's initiation is on Monday! How am I supposed to focus on initiation and the start of the semester with this thrown on top of everything?"

He patted her on the back, shooting her a grin. "I know you can handle it, Pyr. Have some faith in yourself. No student of mine breaks that easily."

She straightened minutely, instantly drawing the comparison to training. What was she moping about? If this was a physical challenge instead of a mental one she'd have kept going like nothing was wrong, even if she knew success was impossible. But instead because it was something less physical it was suddenly okay to complain?

Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her posture. If he wanted to give her Argus, she would do her utmost to live up to his faith in her.

"Thank you, Percy." she said sincerely. "You know I'm fond of Argus, and the gesture is appreciated."

"No it's not." he snorted, shoving his chair back and standing from the table. "Well, the gesture might be but the gift certainly isn't. I'm not that dumb. Give it a little bit, I'm sure you'll come to appreciate the gift itself."

She nodded obediently, and Percy reached over to grab her empty glass.

"Now that that's over with, it's still your birthday and we've got some time to kill. How about I make another drink and find some snacks while you pick a movie?"

Perking up a little, a wide smile snuck its way onto her face. "That sounds lovely."


Hope you enjoyed :) yall are gettin the chapter so early because i dont know what an time management is and am now stuck getting ready to go to the gym at 3am. kill me.

discord and pat-reon are on my profile. I appreciated all the reviews, and it was an interesting experience forcing myself to reply to all of em.

I'll try n do the same this chapter, so leave a review (with an account, damn you) and I'll get back to ya :)

I think you guys will enjoy the next few chapters coming up. See you then.

Next Chapter Feb 14