A little short today. It's my birthday next week but we're doing something today for it since not much point doing it Tuesday. I just slapped together what I could before going out.

Cover Art: Solace O'Autumn

Chapter 49

The feeling was like catching a scroll as it fell from your hands, except that the scroll was made of the slipperiest material alive, was on fire, was vibrating, and was also inside your own body. Aura control was possibly the hardest thing Jaune had ever attempted, and he yelped as the rush burning inside his body snapped like an elastic band pulled too tightly.

"I can't!" Jaune groaned and dropped to his knees. "I can't hold it."

Pyrrha nodded as his newly awakened aura flickered out of existence.

"That's normal," she said. "No one is able to use their aura properly on the day they unlock it. Control takes months to learn and years to master."

"Years!?"

"You don't need to master it. Mastery is… that's important when you have to fight Grimm and control your aura at the same time. For a musician looking to have a little ace up his sleeve in case things get violent, even basic control is good."

"Right." That sounded more manageable. "Anything is better than nothing."

He felt a little better knowing his lapse in control wasn't anything too unusual. It also served as a reminder hat not everyone had a Semblance which just handed them things. His skills from levelling up never needed any practice. It made him feel a little bad to have all that for nothing when Pyrrha had slaved away training herself for year after year.

But there wasn't much point complaining about it.

"You should keep practicing with holding it," she said. "But I'm curious. Was there any change in your Semblance when you use your aura? Most Semblances use aura as fuel, so they should be stronger with it unlocked."

"You said most. Not all?"

"Not all," she agreed. "It's down to whether a Semblance is active or passive." Pyrrha used hers, making her sword float around her raised hand. "My polarity requires me to use it and drain aura to do so, but I've heard of some people who have passive Semblances that are always active. If theirs used aura, they'd run out and die within days. Your Semblance probably counts as that since you unlocked it before your aura and it's always running, but it's worth checking."

"Right. And is a passive Semblance rarer or…?"

"I don't know." Pyrrha deactivated her own and caught her sword as it fell. "They're certainly less flashy, and I expect that means those Semblances are less memorable. If someone had a passive Semblance enhancing their strength, you could easily mistake it as extreme training or conditioning. But you'll never mistake the person shooting lasers from their eyes as normal."

"Is that a thing…?"

"Maybe. Huntsmen and huntresses prefer active Semblances because they add to your toolkit. Technically, passives enhance your toolkit – which is also good, but it only lets you win the fights you were already winning faster. Having a special move you can pull out when everything else fails is usually better. I say usually because there are always exceptions. Like yours. Yours might be both passive and active."

"Because my stats last all the time but my skills are active, I assume."

"Yes. So even if your aura doesn't improve your stats, it may add something to your skills."

It was worth a shot.

"I'll try it now. Give me a second."

Pyrrha nodded and let him gather his breath and, after that, make the attempt at taking hold of his aura once more. It was flickering and clumsy, but he checked his status the second he got it, before he could lose control.

.

Jaune Arc

Lvl 15

Title: Bard

HP: 870/870 (+80)

MP: 110/110

Str: 9 (+8)

Con: 51

Dex: 6

Wis: 8

Cha: 182 (183) (+8)

Aura: Unlocked (Basic Control)

Semblance: The Game

Perks:

Speak with Animals.

Bardic Skills.

Jaune-dor Calls for Aid!

Razor Wit

You have 5 points to spend.

.

"Ah!" Jaune's surprised gasp heralded a loss of control, and the numbers snapped back to normal. "Something changed! Also, lost it. Damn it. I don't think I have the control needed to keep my aura up and play music at the same time. I can't split my concentration like that."

"That'll come. What did you see? What changed?"

"It was my health, my strength and my charisma. They had boosts beside them, similar to the stat increase I got from this scarf."

Jaune pulled at the only stat-boosting item he had ever found. It honestly felt a little ridiculous that he hadn't gotten more, but then he'd avoided fights like the plague. The only combat he'd really seen to the end was Jax, and he'd been a little too shellshocked to want to touch anything the man owned. For all he knew, looting the man might have given him a lot, but there was a big difference between taking money from a pixellated monster in a videogame and a human body.

"Write them down for me," Pyrrha said, rushing for a notepad. "All of them."

Jaune did so, scribbling his status and even his skills, before letting Pyrrha see. The two of them analysed the numbers together.

"It's your wisdom stat," she eventually said. "That's the only one that corresponds to the numbers. Your aura must be tied to wisdom, with a one-to-one boost given to your strength and charisma, and a one-to-ten boost to your health."

"Given constitution gives me that same rate, it's closer to a one-to-one between wisdom and constitution as well," Jaune said. Pyrrha agreed with a hum. "Typical! I unlock a new ability and it's tied to the stat I've been ignoring the most."

"Well, that'd be dexterity but I get your point. It's a shame."

"I have some points left over," he said. "Should I put those in wisdom…? They'll go further than any other attribute."

"Only when you're using your aura, which you don't have that good a control of yet. I think it'd be best to invest them in something more reliable. Or keep them in your back pocket like you have been. You never know, you might desperately need to be faster one day – and being able to dump five or ten points into dexterity could make the difference."

"That's what I was thinking."

Jaune smiled, and Pyrrha smiled back. Honestly, it was great having someone he could talk to about this, something he could be serious with his Semblance about. It reminded him of times spent on gaming forums online discussing (arguing) about meta builds and theory crafting optimal progression routes.

He hadn't done much of that with his Semblance but, again, putting theory into practice was a lot easier in a zero-risk videogame than it was in real life. He didn't have time to theory craft when blows from terrorists had nearly killed him. It was invest points into Constitution or die. And he might not have survived being thrown into the ocean without it.

"Really," she said, "I'm most excited for when you unlock another skill. You'll save choosing and let me have a look, right? I want to see what the options are!"

"Ha. Yeah, I will. Unless I need it to survive, I'll let you have a say. Most have been dependent on attribute scaling, though." He could see she didn't understand the gaming terminology. "I mean they are stronger or weaker based on how high or low my corresponding stat is."

"Oh. So, charisma-based skills hit harder?"

"Exactly."

"I see." Pyrrha giggled. "I've been playing some videogames to try and get an idea, but I'm not really that far into them."

Or into them at all from what he could tell, but he appreciated the effort. He'd always been a bit of a nerd, whereas Pyrrha was, by definition, an athlete. All the time he'd spent arguing with people online, she'd spent honing her craft in a training arena – which really put to mind how much of his life he'd wasted away.

"It's fine. My other stats are improving now – or constitution is at any rate – so there might be an actually meaningful choice when I next get a skill."

"Good. You should keep practicing aura control as well. If you can master it, then wisdom will become your best attribute by far. Who knows, maybe you'll even be less oblivious," she added with a wry smile.

"Oblivious to what…?"

"Exactly."

Jaune tilted his head.

The buzzing of his scroll interrupted the moment. Jaune picked it up and looked at the number, then scowled.

"Damn it…"

/-/

A sleek car picked Jaune up outside the hotel he was staying at later that evening. Inside, Lil Miss Malachite took up two seats, forcing Jaune to squash into the corner with his guitar between them as a shield.

"So," she said. "Care to share what you were doing at Haven?"

The warning was clear; he was being monitored. It wasn't a big surprise and Pyrrha had as good as guessed it before, but it still sucked to know it was happening. If he needed it, it was further proof that he couldn't afford to try and escape Mistral. Not if they could track him back to his family and take their vengeance on them. Dad would murder them if they tried when he was around, but he often wasn't. He had to work full-time as a huntsman to support so many children, leaving the family defenceless.

"I was meeting up with some old friends who are students there. I didn't leave Mistral."

"Curious that a drug trafficker would have huntsmen as friends."

He didn't rise to the bait. There was really no point letting her get under his skin. Cinder knew where he was, as did Pyrrha, and he had his guitar with him. If things got dangerous, he'd be able to defend himself.

Better yet, he now had aura.

Albeit very little control over it…

"I didn't tell the headmaster about you."

"I'm not sure that would matter anymore," she said, with a chuckle. He looked over, confused, and she paused. "You haven't heard?" It was her turn to be surprised. "The Headmaster of Haven is dead. He died yesterday."

Jaune's jaw dropped. "What!? He was fine when I met him!"

"The news has it as a stroke."

"But he was so lively…"

"Probably why it wasn't caught and diagnosed," Lil Miss Malachite said with a shrug. "Huntsmen are always so fit and resilient that they don't catch illnesses often but, when they do, they can be some of the worst people in the world about going to a hospital over it. They're too used to fighting on with wounds and trusting their aura to deal with it. When your threshold for pain is that high, you can end up dismissing something that should be a warning."

Jaune leaned back, stunned. It wasn't that he knew the man or had cared about him, but knowing someone so active and friendly was alive one moment and dead the next was shocking. It was one of those things that made you realise just how mortal you were.

"Put it out your mind," she said. "No one lives forever. Focus on your job instead."

"R—Right. And my job tonight is to play music…?"

"That's the beginning of it. You'll be loaned out tonight to business partners of mine – the syndicate that the drugs you failed to deliver were destined to go to. Since I now owe them an apology, you will serve as it and do whatever they ask of you."

How likely were they to just kill him…? He'd have liked to say "not very" on account of it earning them nothing, but he didn't know how these types of people operated. They might just be vicious monsters who wanted to take the loss out on him, at which point he would respond by playing a Discordant Note as loud as he could and making a run for it.

The rest of the journey was made in silence, and soon the car was pulling into a fancy-looking restaurant. There were statues of golden lions and dragons on the outside, and the building itself was a combination of dark wood and emerald-green plaster. The serving staff were wrapped in traditional Mistral robes and moved slowly with their eyes to the ground. They might even have been afraid of them.

And of me, Jaune thought, since they must assume I'm a hardened criminal as well.

Their coats were taken and they were ushered inside. Jaune walked with Lil Miss Malachite's people, knowing he wasn't seen as "equal" to her in any way. She strolled ahead, confidently smiling at those around her. They were led to an inner room where several men and a few women sat around a low table. Upon their entry, the people within stood in a gesture of respect.

Their clothing was varied between suits and more traditional wear, but they were all in black, green or gold, which appeared to be some kind of visual uniform colours for them. Gang tags, maybe. Did organised criminals have gang tags? He wasn't sure, but they certainly had a colour theme. Jaune stayed silent as one of the men approached Lil Miss Malachite and offered his hand. Jaune could have checked his name and status but kept his eyes down, not wanting to draw attention by staring too hard.

"I've brought us entertainment tonight," Lil Miss Malachite said. "Since you're providing the venue and refreshments. Is there somewhere for him to play?"

"Off to the side," the man gestured to a corner, and Jaune moved over.

They expected him to stand as he played, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd had to. As the various criminals sat, without once introducing themselves to him, he drew out his guitar and started testing the strings. They would be eating and talking, so loud music was out the question. He'd give them something soft to serve as background music. There was no way he was buffing them either, so it'd just be his normal fare.

As the starters were brought out, Jaune began to play.

/-/

At least two hours went by.

He couldn't hear what was said because of his own music, but it was obvious there was some tension in the meeting. Not enough to spill over into violence, but enough to make it clear the relations between the two groups weren't so hot. Lil Miss Malachite had lost a shipment meant for these people and they were holding it over her head.

The fact she – a criminal – had to put up with that suggested this other gang was powerful. Or maybe it was one of those scenarios seen in predators where they avoided conflict not because they couldn't win, but because it wasn't worth taking even small injuries if it meant someone else could capitalise on their weakness.

In the wild, there was always a younger competitor.

In Mistral, there was always a rival organisation eager to pounce.

Occasionally, people would look his way, usually when Lil Miss gestured. One or two of them shot him irritated looks that made him gulp, but most were passive or only vaguely interested at best. Once or twice, he caught people nodding along to his music, but did a criminal empire really have nee for a musician? If it wasn't for his fingers on the strings of what was a deadly weapon in his hands, he would have been shaking with fear.

My Semblance would probably warn me if I was about to die. It'd give me a quest to escape with my life on the line.

Hopefully, anyway. If nothing else, it had said there was a route to success by doing as they wanted, the criminal route, so that suggested he wouldn't be killed here and now. How could he fulfil that objective if they decided to off him right away? Of course, his Semblance could be wrong. It wasn't like he had proof that it knew everything.

Not exactly relaxing thoughts.

They managed to make a deal of some sort before the dinner ended. Lil Miss and one man with a bald head shook hands across the table and the various hired muscle relaxed. What tension there was didn't necessarily drain away, but it became a little less cold. A bottle of wine was brought out, uncorked, and shared between the two in some ritualistic exchange, before it was shared out among the other guests. Then, they were raised as one and downed.

It was less than fifteen minutes later that Lil Miss Malachite rose and spoke with her people, then up and walked out, leaving Jaune behind. He cursed her in his head but didn't stop playing, having expected about this bad a time from her. He continued strumming his guitar until the other group finished their meal, at which point a younger man – not the one in charge, but someone who had been seated beside him – was pointed in Jaune's direction.

The man bowed his head to what must have been his superior but may also have been a relation. He stood, bowed his head again, and took three steps backwards before turning his back on the man and walking purposefully toward him. Jaune let his music slowly fade off rather than stop it, and he waited for the man to speak. It felt like saying anything would be a faux pas in this kind of situation.

"With me," said the man, walking past Jaune. He scrambled for his guitar case and followed out the room, into a hallway. The suited man was waiting for him. "I am Bon-hwa. I shall serve as your minder. Your name?"

"Jaune Arc."

"Your skills?"

"I'm a musician."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly what one would expect Lil Miss Malachite to hire for a drug run."

"She didn't hire me. I just hitched a ride on that ship out of Vacuo, and now I'm being blamed for a Grimm attacking it." The words slipped out before Jaune could think better of them. Luckily, the man smirked.

"Is that so? Then she's seeking to push the blame elsewhere. Interesting." He became serious again. "It matters little in the grand scheme of things. You will be serving the family. We shall find a use for you no matter your skills." He looked Jaune up and down. "Have you played professionally before now?"

"Yes. I've played in casinos and bars."

The man sighed. "I mean publicly. Shows or… what is it called? Concerts."

"I've played at a concert in Vacuo and I also played backup guitar to a live performance by Weiss Schnee if those count."

"Hmmm. Really?" The man rubbed his chin. He seemed pleased. "Good. That's better than expected. It might just be enough. I think there may be something fitting your… capabilities. I hope so at any rate, or you shall not like the alternative."

Jaune swallowed.

"Follow me."

Bon-hwa led him to the back of the restaurant. There were even more armed men and women around, and the restaurant backed onto an entire walled compound. There were large ornate gardens and multiple buildings with slatted wooden rooftops. Twice, Jaune was checked over for weapons, and then stopped a third time where even Bon-hwa was searched. The security was getting to the point that Jaune started to wonder where he was being taken.

And then they reached a large building at the back of the compound.

"Your task rests in here. Beware, should you cause problems here or cause offence, your life will be forfeit. You will not leave this building alive."

Jaune swallowed. His body tensed as the doors were pushed open.

And he almost shrieked when something blurred out of them and attacked.

Bon-hwa grunted and stumbled back as something hit him.

Fuzzy black hair, green eyes, pale skin. The girl, who couldn't have been older than eleven, was dressed in a formal green and gold robe, but it looked like she'd either hiked or up or outright cut off the bottom to let her legs beneath the knee be free. And she had on jeans underneath, as well as a hefty pair of boots. She was short, under five feet, but the way she pushed off Bon-hwa, crossed her arms and stamped her feet made it clear she didn't consider that a problem.

"Where is he!?" she demanded, in a petulant voice. "Daddy promised me!"

Bon-hwa laughed awkwardly and bowed. "Lady Chae-young, your honourable father is still meeting with guests and—"

The girl stuck out her bottom lip. Her eyes began to water. "Hnghhhhhhhh!"

The hardened criminal panicked. "I bring gifts!"

"Haa—?" The tears vanished in an instant. Several armed men nearby breathed out in relief. "Where? What? Gimme!"

"Ahem." Bon-hwa cleared his throat. "Lady Chae-young, I present to you Jaune Arc, a famous musician who has played at concerts in both Atlas and in Vacuo. He has performed live with the famous Weiss Schnee—"

The girl scoffed. "Lame. Has he played with Guitar Cutie?"

"My lady, no one has played with the one you speak of. We have searched, we truly have. The family has done its best to find this… Guitar Cutie."

Bon-hwa stumbled over the name out of sheer embarrassment. Jaune was feeling his own at the same moment, along with a little panic.

"It is to no avail. But, in the meantime, your honourable father has seen fit to provide you with someone of comparable skill—" He ignored the young girl's doubtful snort. "—and he has been gifted to the family to pay off a great debt. Your honourable father gifts him to you now, to serve as your music tutor."

"I'm sorry, but what?" Jaune asked. "This is my job…? Music tutor…?"

"Yeah. Why?" The girl crossed her arms and pouted. "Got a problem with that?"

Several men drew guns.

"No!" Jaune yelped. "No, of course not! I just… well…" He glanced at Bon-hwa. "I expected something a little more… criminal. Couldn't you just hire her a tutor?"

Bon-hwa cleared his throat. "We have. Multiple times. They quit. Often in tears."

The girl crossed her arms, pouted, and looked aside. "Meh. Not my fault."

The expressions on Bon-hwa's face, along with every other person's there, suggested that it was very much the fault of the girl in front of him, and that they didn't expect him to last much longer. That might be a problem since his options were to succeed at this or have to serve the criminals in another, probably more dangerous, manner.

"Well…" Jaune smiled awkwardly. "I'll do my best…"

How hard could teaching an entitled brat the guitar honestly be…?

"Good luck," said Bon-hwa, turning away. Jaune barely caught his whisper. "You'll need it…"

Next Chapter: 24th November

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