Yo! Welcome to the first chapter of part 2 of WYAN! Hope you guys like this one. We've got another everyone-chapter today, with all our MC's getting a chance to have a POV segment!
Start Part 2
Start Chapter 19
Ruby Rose, leader of both Team RWBY and Team RAR, takes a breath as she allows Crescent Rose to sag in her grasp.
All around her, the world practically explodes.
"James Gatz has been defeated by aura loss!" Ms. Goodwitch shouts out. "The winner is Team Rarity!"
Shouts of disbelief, of sorrow, and even some of rage echo out from the stands around them, where students from all years of Beacon Academy have come to watch the match. She imagines that the latter two types of shouts are mostly those who've bet with friends on the outcome of this very match.
Almost all of them, Ruby imagines, will have chosen the far more experienced Team GTSE, but then, a couple of people among Beacon's students have started to see the truth behind the rumors.
That the upstart first-year team looking to make it to the Vytal Festival is as legit as they say.
"Team Rarity, you have won Beacon's mock tournament," Ms. Goodwitch herself sounds like she can't quite believe what she's saying, but it's the truth. A first-year team – one comprised of only three members – has beaten all comers, including fourth year teams with an extra person on them, to take the prize. "And thusly, you shall be the final team representing Beacon Academy in this year's Vytal Festival."
Behind her, Ruby hears both Amber and Roman cheer. The former is a lot more understated than the latter, but it's a present emotion nonetheless. Even Ruby can't help but smile as she wipes the sweat from her brow.
It had not been easy to be chosen. They'd been lucky in their first year – Team RWBY had been lucky, that is – with the Vytal Festival being held in Beacon itself. Nearly every team from Beacon had had the chance to compete. After all, no one had been about to complain about bloat to the roster of competitors among the sponsors of the Vytal Festival, who had been more than willing to allow a few first-year teams to get their butts kicked if it meant they could advertise their products for another few hours.
It's down to the price of sending so many students overseas, in truth, that causes foreign rosters to be much smaller. A collection of five or so teams, mainly third and fourth years, can fit on a single long-range bullhead. The thirty-two teams that Beacon has in its entirety would have filled even the transport ship that had ferried them from Vale to Beacon, and would have still likely needed a copy of that vessel on top of that.
It just isn't feasible.
Which is why Beacon, and the other academies who aren't hosting the festival this year – Mistral and Vacuo – will be selecting a few of their best teams, and sending only them.
Beacon had also offered a final slot to a team chosen by a tournament style bracket. Any team could enter, with the only price of failure being shame.
Which, as team GTSE is currently figuring out, is not nothing, judging by the utter hazing they're currently getting from the other teams about losing to some 'cocky first-years'.
Ruby can't help feeling a bit bad about that, given she's a fully-fledged Huntress, who has fought against people a helluva lot better than even the fourth-year teams here in Beacon. On her own, she could've maybe stood a chance against some of the second- and third-year teams, and with Amber and Roman at her back, well, it had been a bit one-sided, honestly.
"We did it!" Roman tackles Ruby from behind, lifting her up in the air and swinging her back and forth. "We actually did it!"
"Put her down!" Amber groans. "You're embarrassing us!"
Ruby isn't all that worried about how they appear, especially not at a time like this. They've just won a trip to the Vytal Festival, after all, where they'll have all their reasonable expenses covered by Beacon themselves.
It is not at all an unfortunate arrangement, so Roman's excitement is appropriate.
Ruby can tell that Amber is just as excited; she's just a lot better at hiding it. They have, after all, spent the last eight or so months grinding their butts off to make it here.
And now they've arrived.
That doesn't feel half bad.
"Lighten up, milady," Roman mocks Amber with the name he'd come up with for her… two or three months back? Ruby's kind of blanking on it at the moment. "You gotta' celebrate things like this. Why don't we go down to Jimmy's or Mick's?"
"What is it with you and fried food?" Amber scoffs, and Ruby prepares to listen to her teammates bicker with one another for what will likely be thirty minutes for perhaps the thousandth time.
And she had thought Weiss and Blake bad…
…Actually, Roman and Amber really only ever argue. They never run away from the team, blow up sections of the docks or Vale's major highways, or get themselves involved with the business of any terrorist organizations.
So, actually, maybe Amber and Roman are better.
It just doesn't feel like it at the moment.
"I actually agree with Roman." Ruby smiles back at her teammates, causing them to halt their argument. "Maybe we could go somewhere else, though, Roman."
"Uh… y'wanna go to Mike's, maybe?"
"How are Mike's and Mick's different places?" Amber wonders aloud.
"I'll forgive your blasphemous words against the gods of food this singular time." Roman fires back.
"How about," Ruby prevents the argument from even starting. "We go to somewhere I want to for once?"
Amber and Roman both seem rather interested about that. Ruby has done her best to be friendly with them, but in the end, Roman and Amber… they aren't really her team. She's come across a bit more mysterious than she really intends to.
And that has had the unintended side effect of the two of them reading into just about every suggestion that Ruby actually posits herself.
"Sure, I'm down." Roman shrugs. "Where would you want to go?"
/
They end up traveling quite a ways away from Beacon in the end. The place Ruby's going had, after all, been a place she'd gone to when she'd been a kid, visiting Vale for the first time. They'd had to enter from the front gate, which is directly opposite Beacon in terms of position on a map.
And a few blocks past that front gate lies…
"This…" Amber shakes her head minutely. "This is just a Mistralian place. This is literally the exact same as what Roman was suggesting."
"No," Ruby turns back around, smiling at Amber's annoyance. "This is a place I suggested, which means it's different."
"Do they serve pizza?" Roman asks.
"Yes, they very much do."
Amber groans.
So it is that thirty minutes later, they're sat around a half-pepperoni pie, sipping sodas, and talking about completely inane things.
"There's no way that you unironically think pineapple belongs on pizza." Roman shoots at Amber, who rolls her eyes.
"Of course you'd have such a reductive view. It adds a certain sweetness that a pizza can greatly benefit from. I find it goes quite well with ham."
"I'm sorry, a ham and pineapple pizza?"
"Indeed."
"That's… I'm pretty sure that's a crime, Amber. Like if you're arrested in the near future, at least I know why."
Ruby's gotten quite used to her teammates bickering at this point. It's an almost comfortable thing for her. She's already finished her three slices, and is sipping at her drink when her teammates remember that a world exists outside their arguments.
"Oh, right," Roman clears his throat. "So, we're going to Atlas, yeah?"
"You would know these things if you paid any attention." Amber rolls her eyes. "Yes. We'll be going to Atlas next week. We'll be staying there for a week before the tournament begins. Apparently, General Hawthorne has instituted some kind of quarantine procedure? Ozpin didn't sound too terribly happy when he announced that."
"Why do you always call the Headmaster just 'Ozpin'," Roman shoots her a look. "You do realize that's weird as hell, right?"
Amber coughs into one hand, slightly red. "I've no clue what you're referring to."
"Riiiight." Roman looks to Ruby, raises an eyebrow as if to say 'can you believe this?' – Ruby breathes out a silent laugh – and then changes the subject. "So, what are we doing while we're there?"
"Other than competing in the tournament?"
"Well, yeah, I kind of figured that was a given." Roman shrugs. "I mean, c'mon, we're good, but we're probably not winning the whole thing, right?"
Ruby has something to say about that, but she decides to hold her tongue.
"And I doubt we're going to want to watch the entire time, so what are we doing during our downtime?"
"Ah, so that is what you meant." Amber rolls her eyes. "Always about slacking off with you."
"Oh, sure, says the woman who gets a massage once a week."
"I-I'll have you know that massages are great for–"
Ruby zones her team out yet again, smiling despite how annoying it might seem to anyone else. For Ruby, however, it only serves to remind her of home; of Team RWBY, of Weiss, and Yang, and Blake.
…She wonders where they all are, and if they're here like she is.
Hopefully, during the Vytal Festival, she'll be able to put her name out there, and really attract some attention.
That way…
They'll find each other again.
/
"Excellent, we'll stop there for the day."
Both Sienna and Eve pant as they allow their stances to slip. The former does so far more efficiently than the latter, but then, she's also been training as a combatant for a good ten years already.
Eve, on the other hand, only has around eight months to her name.
Blake pats both on the backs as she hands them bottles of water. Sienna takes hers with a nod of thanks. Eve practically lunges for it, before taking greedy gulps. Sienna chastises her for that, letting her know that she might throw up if she takes in too much liquid so soon after working out so hard.
Blake isn't sure if that's actual knowledge, or a personal anecdote, given she's never dealt with such herself, but then, she supposes that it doesn't really matter. Eve takes smaller sips after that, and she and Sienna briefly discuss what they'd learned that day.
That has Blake smiling – an expression that many can't notice at all. The fact that Eve is doing as well as she is given that she's only been at this for eight months is staggering. She isn't quite at the level of Jaune, who'd gone from a complete novice to the level of the average huntsman-in-training in the same time, but Blake feels that Eve would do done just fine if placed into some of the early-year classes at Signal, for example.
Blake is proud of her, even putting aside the fact that Eve's her student.
She's planning on packing up for the day; calling it and heading back to the apartment that she's been staying in for the last few months.
Except instead, she hears someone clear their voice on the edge of the clearing, and turns to see…
Well, her father.
Ghira Belladonna is probably, to anyone else, quite an intimidating figure. He's a veritable giant, standing an easy 7 feet tall, with a brooding expression almost permanently etched into his visage. He's stood there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, in a way that might make anyone else think that he's some terrifying figure.
Nope. Complete and total teddy bear.
Well, he's definitely a former fighter, but in terms of personality, he's a softie.
"Hello, Mr. Belladonna." She bows her head, doing her best to give away absolutely nothing about the fact that this is her father. "May I help you?"
"Ah, I was actually here for Sienna, but now that I've arrived, perhaps you can, Ms. Blake."
That has her intrigued, honestly. It's not the first time that Ghira's come to her with requests; She's helped around the village with a few tasks, whether that's sawing down trees out in the jungles beyond Kuo Kuana, building houses in and around the city, or even going along with fishing boats to act as security.
It's been paid work every time – and well paying, in comparison to how much she might expect to make elsewhere for the same gigs – so Blake's definitely not opposed to more.
"I'm sure you've heard about some of the recent… shifts happening in Atlas, correct?"
Blake… she's heard about it, and she's been concerned. She had, as much as she might like to pretend, not been the worldliest eight-year-old when she'd been younger. Thusly, she can't say that what's happening right now hadn't happened in her own time, when she'd been younger.
But she thinks she remembers hearing about a General Hawthorne being ousted around this time. Being blamed for racist treatment towards the faunus. He'd been treated as a scapegoat by both the Atlas Council, and the SDC as more and more abuses came out of the woodwork.
And yet, it seems that such had not occurred.
And Blake doesn't know what to make of it.
It's not like she likes General Ironwood. Even before he'd gone against them in Atlas, he'd allowed the abuses of the faunus to continue under his watch during the first few years of his time as General. Now, of course, a rookie General fresh into his position likely doesn't have the pull necessary to completely alter policy, but still, he'd never been especially outspoken about faunus rights.
But she's getting distracted.
"I've heard."
"Then you might know that there are several policies in the works right now in Atlas that, if put into place, will likely only make things worse for our brothers and sisters on Solitas."
Blake hasn't heard as much as he probably thinks she has. She's been focused on training Eve and Sienna, enjoying allowing herself to have some simple days for once in her life.
Of course, she had known that such wouldn't last forever. She'd just been content to let it last for a bit. It seems it's come to an end, now. It had been nice while it lasted.
But now she has work to do.
"Tell me about them."
"Simply put, proposals that were being put in place to up the wages of faunus workers, and had received generally positive support from the people of Atlas, are now being halted in Atlesian courts." Ghira begins, clearing his throat. "Hawthorne is not entirely to blame, as much as I'd like to put it all on him. The SDC had been moving to kill these bills for well over a year now, and it was their refusal to allow them to pass that stalled it for so long in the first place."
Blake shook her head. "I don't entirely understand; if Hawthorne was going to allow the bill to pass a year or two ago, why isn't he doing so now?"
"Because he's taken a platform." Ghira sighs. "He's thrown his bag in with the racists and the bigots of Atlas, who make up, I'm afraid, a rather sizeable portion of Atlas' population. It's empowering the very dregs of society to say things that have been on their minds for years, but that they didn't have the courage to say when such was frowned upon. Now, they're calling faunus rabid animals again, just like they did after the war. Hawthorne is, by not saying anything, saying everything. He supports these people, even if he can't admit it."
"I don't mean to demonize the entire people, of course. Only thirty-seven percent of people in Atlas support the bill being shot down, but among that number are some of the wealthiest people on Solitas. Without significant pushback from the sixty-seven percent, which he has so far not received, nothing will change. Or, worse, things will change, but only backwards, setting faunus rights back years."
Blake nods her head slowly, feeling a disgust building within her chest. "What do we plan to do?"
"We're going to go and protest in the streets of Atlas." Ghira explains, clearing his throat. "We will show up as the White Fang, and do what we've always done; give voice to those faunus who do not have one."
Blake can't help but doubt how effective a protest is going to be on this issue. She'd grown up during a more accepting time, but even then, they'd been generally scoffed at.
"That…"
"To clarify, I've no illusions such will in any way convince Hawthorne, or those who've already made up their minds to hate us on principle." Ghira states, and Blake's brow furrows. "But we can, at the very least, show the people of Atlas that we are reasonable. That we are not rabid animals. We are people, just like they are. Hopefully, that will cause further bills like this one being shot down to be met with more fervor from that sixty-seven percent, putting pressure on those in government to look towards the future, and not the past."
"And you want me to come along?"
"I do." Ghira sighs. "Because as much as I'd like to pretend otherwise; there's always the chance that things will go badly. The only reason I want you to come is to protect the people going to protest. Not to attack anyone or cause a scene."
Blake knows what he means. Don't shoot anyone, basically, which is a fair warning given that, as far as he knows, she's shot a lot of people.
She doesn't like this. Again, there's just… a hint of something on the air. A hint that something's not as it should be.
And yet, what can she really do?
The answer to that question is rather obvious.
Go along, and do the best she can to prevent anything untoward happening.
"Alright." She looks up, and meets Ghira's eyes.
"When do we leave?"
/
Yang wipes the sweat from her face as she finishes killing the last of the Nevermore hanging about the skies of Patch.
To call it a thankless job is false, given that the entire island counts on its Hunters to come out and cull the migratory Grimm populations every once in a while, but it's also a job that Yang knows many people on the island don't even know exists.
That's down to just how well they do it, to be fair. A Grimm hasn't broken through to the actual settlement of Patch in thirty-three years, and even a decade from now, in Yang's time, that hadn't changed.
Still, she's being paid, and paid work as a Huntress on Patch is hard to come by, so she's not going to complain too much.
Her father's lucky he's a teacher, and can thusly make a steady income. Mom – er… Summer – doesn't quite have the same luck, but then, it seems like she earns a little stipend from Ozpin to help support the family.
Yang supposes that makes sense, given she's one of the world's foremost weapons against the Grimm, and, at this point, perhaps even the world's foremost. Keeping her happy means keeping her willing to take on work.
She doesn't blame Ozpin for what happened to her mom. That would be foolish. But… she does blame Salem, and her people. Ruby had been the one to say it.
The Hound, back in Atlas…
…
It doesn't matter, that's not happening this time.
She puts such macabre thoughts out of mind, and focuses back in on finishing up for the day.
The purge of the islands Grimm is a monthly event. It could, likely, be done bimonthly, or even less often than that with no real issues, but then, the island likes to keep things one-hundred percent secure.
And monthly cleanups do that, whether they're a little excessive or not.
Yang heads back to Patch proper, and gets her paycheck. It's not a ton, but it's a lot more than she's earning sitting around on her ass wasting the days away, and frankly, she could use the chance to keep her skills from rusting – outside of sparring with Raven every once in a while.
She makes her way towards the Xiao-Long cabin in no real hurry. Her 'house' – it's really more of a small apartment that she'd had her dad help her build – is around fifty or so meters from it.
She steps in, changes into something reasonable, and takes a shower. It never does get as hot as she'd like it to, but then, she can't really complain given that she's not actually paying a water bill.
She makes her way over to her parents' house, walks into the front door, and is met with what looks like a meeting between the adults of the household.
Taiyang, Summer, and Raven are all sat around the coffee table in the center of the room. They don't seem nervous, or otherwise upset, so Yang thinks that whatever they're looking at can't be that big of a deal.
"Ah," Raven sees her first. "Yang."
"Who's–" Summer looks up, sees her, and smiles. "Ah, other Yang."
They've taken to calling her that – Summer and Taiyang – given that she shares a name with their daughter. She can't help feeling a bit salty about that, given that Yang's been called Yang for an awful lot longer than Yang's been called Yang!
…Oh, gods, none of this makes any sense.
"Ah, come in." Her father is always polite, even with strangers. It's funny, she's seeing a new side of Summer – her mom – now that she's not her daughter.
She's actually a somewhat suspicious person, and while she's kind, she's also fiercely protective. She's the slowest of any of them to fully trust her, whereas young Yang and Ruby – which is weird, it's really weird – have taken to her quite easily.
"We've been invited to the Vytal Festival." Raven wastes no time. "By Ozpin."
Clearly, the latter part is what matters more to her mother, albeit Yang finds herself interested as to the Vytal Festival portion as well.
"You do realize you're staying here on Oz' lien, right?" Summer gives her teammate/lover a deadpan stare. "Like, he's paying you a wage for existing."
"Hah, right. Like that's a totally altruistic thing for him to do, with no ulterior motives at all."
They get into a quick verbal spat, which Taiyang smiles through with the patience of a saint. Had… this been what Summer had been like before Raven had left?
Yang's not really sure she can meld the mental image of Summer from her childhood around this one.
"Anyways," Taiyang eventually continues, seeing as the other two aren't. "Ozpin has invited all of us to come and attend the festival alongside him. I believe he's also hoping that Summer will be able to inspect that student he was interested in, so as per usual, Oz does have an ulterior motive."
"See, Tai agrees with me," Raven shoots at Summer.
"Oh, right, because Tai agreeing with you is for purely altruistic reasons, and not just because he wants to eat your a–."
"Guys." Tai hisses out, and Summer and Raven both grumble under their breath as Yang and Ruby – little versions – look over cluelessly.
Yang raises an eyebrow at her father, and he just chuckles below his breath.
"They're uh… feisty?"
Eventually, Summer and Raven both stop arguing about nothing at all, and the four of them start discussing how they're going to get to Atlas.
"We'd be going aboard Ozpin's personal shuttle." Summer explains. "Taking that to Atlas, the six of us, presuming that you want to go, Yang."
She nods her head. "I'd like to. I've nothing else to be doing, certainly."
Summer hums out in acknowledgement. "Then we'd go, watch the festivities, take some time for me to investigate this new student that Ozpin's got his eye on, and then come on back."
"Sounds good to me." She shrugs, then looks to Raven. "You?"
"Eh." She seems to want to complain for complaining's sake, and Summer rolls her eyes with a groan. "I've never been a fan of the tournaments. Kids suck at fighting, too. It's infuriating to watch them get cheered on for the most basic shit."
"The tournaments aren't really for the hunter populations, Raven." Summer glares. "They're for civilians. It's a show. Makes them confident that we'll be able to protect them from the Grimm, nurtures international relations; hell, you'd know all of this if you'd ever paid attention in world history!"
"Oh, we're getting back on my case about world history, now?" Raven scoffs. "I told you before, and I'll tell you again–"
The two start going off on another rant, and Taiyang, sensing that he's not going to be able to get a word in edgewise, stands from the couch, smiles over at Yang, and gestures towards the door outside.
Yang follows him, and the two of them step out.
"It's been great having Rae back," Taiyang says, and despite what had just happened, she can tell he means it. "Summer's been over the moon about it, though you'd never be able to tell with how much they're at each other's throats. I think Summer feels like Rae has to prove herself, and I think Raven's a little angry that Summer won't just… trust her, y'know?"
Yang nods her head. "Sounds complicated."
Her father laughs. "You don't know the half of it. Still, I was thinking; you've never met Raven's brother before, have you?"
Her eyes widen as the topic of conversation suddenly shifts towards uncle Qrow. Obviously, no, she's never met him in this time…
And she can't give away how badly she wants to see him, either.
"Nah, can't say I have." It's difficult to reign in her emotions, but she's had practice with it these last eight or so months. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, he's been on an extended mission in Mistral for a while, hasn't even answered his scroll. I don't even know if he's had time to check it. For all I know, he doesn't even know Rae's back."
That… actually, yeah, that sounds like Uncle Qrow. He'd probably broken his scroll, had to get a new number, and then totally forgot to tell people about it.
That had happened three times in Yang's life. Each time her dad had freaked out and assumed he'd died, only to be relieved when he'd call into Ozpin and learn that he'd just tripped, and his scroll had flown out of his pocket and into a sewage drain or something.
Having bad luck as a semblance is, from what her uncle tells her, pretty much just like that sometimes.
"Well, I'll tell Oz to contact him, let him know about Rae and to come to the Vytal Festival. Hopefully he's finished up matters over there with Lionheart."
That name… brings back memories.
"What's going on with Lionheart?"
"Oh, one of his bodyguards was assassinated." He father sighs out. "Bit of an ugly business, but Qrow's one of the best at tracking things like that. Hopefully they got the guy, but I don't really know."
Yang nods along, looking out at the forest beyond the Xiao-Long cabin. She can see her tiny little house a way away.
"When are we leaving?"
"Sometime within the next few days. Maybe I'll just call Oz now, see if he can't patch me through to Qrow."
Yang nods her head. "I'll leave you to it, then."
The man nods, and brings his scroll out. Yang begins the trek back towards her abode, and thinks about their upcoming journey.
There're a few things on her mind, but chief among them…
This is a chance to search for the others. And…
Maybe, she should try and make a scene when she gets there. Get on video, be obvious. Attract attention.
Yeah…
She thinks that might just work.
/
Weiss isn't really sure what it is, but there's something… off about Qrow when she sees him next, after she's finished preparing for the morning's activities.
"You look like you've seen a ghost." She greets, and the man jumps in place, before shaking his head.
"Ah, well…" He ran a hand down his face. "Just uh… got some news."
He runs her through what he's learned. It's… well, admittedly, it's an awful lot of information to have suddenly thrust upon her. Raven has returned to Team STRQ? She's gone back to Summer and Tai?
And she's been with them nearly eight months now!?
That…
Weiss doesn't know everything about Ruby and Yang's childhood, but she's fairly certain that hadn't ever happened. After all, Yang had said she hadn't met her mother until she'd gone and found the Branwen's camp.
It did have one question on the tip of Weiss' tongue, however.
"How did you not know your sister had returned to your family until now if this happened eight months ago?"
Qrow seems rather angry about that as well. "I got a new scroll! The last one got EMP'd by Marcus Black while you were busy being blown up! I chased his ass down that stairwell, and he fuckin' threw a smorgasbord of random bullshit at me! And of course, people just happened to forget to give Summer or Tai my new number, so they've been textin' my burnt-out scroll for months, thinking I had gone dark for a mission or somethin'." He growls. "Fuckin' semblance."
"So… your sister, Raven… she's back?"
"From what they're saying, and they're not really the types to bullshit this."
"How is that possible?"
It's an accidental thing; Weiss hadn't at all meant to say it. Yet it slips out, and Qrow responds by barking out a laugh. "Look at you; asking the right questions. I don't know. Ain't got a clue."
He sighs, before heading down to the hotel lobby, and then walking outside. She's pretty sure he just wants to take the conversation elsewhere, and so doesn't complain.
They end up continuing their conversation at a bakery nearby, which has croissants that Weiss is quite taken with.
"I don't know," Qrow speaks around bites of a glazed chocolate donut. "Whole thing's just weird to me. It's not like I hate my sister or somethin', I mean, we're siblings, I can think she's a fucking idiot and still love her, y'know?"
Unfortunately, yes, Weiss does know. She'd felt her father had been an evil man, corrupt and unscrupulous, and yet, even so, she'd never stopped loving him in some distant, far-off corner of her heart.
How cruel such bonds can be.
"But…" Qrow shakes his head. "I don't get it. She was a recluse for a good seven years, and then just… shows up one day, like nothing happened? I guess I just don't think this happened because she suddenly grew a conscience. That or a spine."
He groans, before taking a mighty swig of coffee, and then exhaling.
"Alright. Second order of business," He points to her with his pinky. "I got an invite to the Vytal Festival, apparently Oz wants Summer to investigate a student."
"Hm. Is there a reason?"
"I mean, there's always a reason, but if you're wondering if I know what it is, then no. He didn't say. Which is pretty much the usual with him." Qrow rolls his eyes. "I wish he would put a little more faith in people, but eh, that's just Oz. You get used to it."
"Alright. When will you be leaving?"
"You mean when will we be leaving?" Qrow cocks an eyebrow at her.
"Wait, I'm going?"
"You are indeed."
"Because…?"
"Because I think you're more than good enough to join our little peace-keeping force." Qrow states, and before Weiss can get a word in, "And as for why you'll give it a chance, it's because you owe me about fifty for covering your ass over the course of the last eight months. You do realize you've been on Beacon's insurance for all our jobs, yeah?"
Weiss breathes out in a huff, but she can't actually argue against what Qrow is saying, despite very much wanting to.
"And I take it that means I'm meeting with Ozpin?"
"You are indeed." The man smiles, and Weiss groans in response. "C'mon, think of it like a vacation. We've been slumming it up in Mistral doing boring ass reconnaissance work without finding a single thing."
"That and failing to save a child from her abusive parents…" Weiss mumbles glumly.
Qrow winces. "Don't… don't blame yourself, kid. Those cases aren't… ugh."
It's clear the man isn't really sure how to phrase this.
"It doesn't help that the child's mute. She can't speak for herself, and while she can write notes, she can't properly respond to people's statements in real time. It means that her parents can spin the entire narrative on us blowing something minor out of proportion. I called in the best people I could, but they haven't been able to turn up much of anything on those guys so far. It's a suspiciously low amount, to be honest."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that they might have criminal connections."
That makes Weiss even less happy, knowing she has to leave Neo – or Trivia Vanille, as they'd learned during their very brief, very one-sided court appearance – with a pair of abusive, potentially criminal parents.
"I'm not giving up on her. Especially not after hearing that."
"I'm not going to ask you to." Qrow smiled back, but it was a weak thing. "I've got some people working behind the scenes to find some more dirt on those two, but especially with them being as guarded as they are, it's not going to be a quick process."
"Nothing ever seems to be." She groans, running her hands down her face, and then looking up at Qrow. "Fine. Maybe I could use a break."
"Hey, that's the spirit." Qrow smirks. "Alright, we'll be heading out sometime in the next few days. In the meantime, though, we've got cleanup on the Jensen and Bjergsen cases…"
Weiss and Qrow become lost in their own conversation, and gradually, the day seems to start filtering by. Eventually, they pay, and leave the bakery.
Yet on their way out, they happen to miss the figure watching them from afar, listening in on their every word, before disappearing out of sight.
/
Jaune's fingernails are digging into the fabric of his top as he struggled to keep his cool.
Across from him, beaten, bruised, and bloodied, Cinder is being 'tested' for the first time by Tyrian, at Salem's behest.
Calling it anything other than a massacre would be giving Cinder too much credit.
He doesn't mean to diminish his student. She's come damn far in just eight months. But that doesn't mean she's suddenly ready to compete against Tyrian Callows, a man who is already among the strongest Huntsman on the face of Remnant, and someone who has only grown stronger in the last eight months, since Jaune last fought him.
If anything, Jaune would say that he's taken his 'loss' to Jaune as a personal insult, and has been training excruciatingly ever since. It shows in how quick his movements are, how brutal his counters are, how unrelenting his combinations are.
Jaune's not sure he could handle him at this point. He had, of course, been training over the past few months, but he'd been far more focused on doing his best to not die, while also keeping Cinder alive, to worry overly much about his own condition.
Tyrian, clearly, has no other such concerns but strength.
And he's unleashing it on Cinder.
Her weapons have been knocked from her hands, her lunch from her stomach, and her will to keep going from her soul. Jaune's already told himself that damn the consequences, if Tyrian tries anything else, he's jumping in there and protecting her.
Her aura had broken a while ago, but Salem hadn't allowed the battle to conclude.
"Will an enemy combatant stop when her aura is broken?" She had said.
It's a fair thing to say, in theory, but Cinder is fourteen – maybe fifteen, actually, her birthday has never really come up – years old, and Tyrian is at least thirty-something. Maybe even older than that.
To say that she's outmatched based purely on experience is an understatement.
Luckily, before Jaune throws himself at Tyrian – and then does his best to throw Tyrian out a window – Salem steps in, and calls the match.
"We'll stop things there." She speaks, and her voice gives no room for questioning. Tyrian backs away, bows his head, and then, as if he'd done nothing at all, casually exits the room.
Jaune glares daggers into the man's back as he goes. Tyrian, in a bid to further piss him off, turns back and winks at him.
One day. Jaune swears. One day, I'll wipe that smirk off your face.
"Excellent work, Jaune of Arc." Salem turns back to him. "You've done well to train young Cinder. She's rather capable."
"I'm glad." He grits out between his teeth. "I'd like to attend to my student now, if that's fine?"
Salem hums out in amusement at his blatant dislike. He's not really trying to be subtle about it, to be fair.
Salem doesn't need him, but he's pretty sure she's committed to him at this point. He is, after all, just another experiment in her eyes. An errant comment isn't going to get him terminated.
If anything, the fact that he doesn't try to prove himself to her seems to almost have her more interested in him.
This had not been the plan.
"Well, Mr. Arc," Salem steps past him, looking at him out of the corner of her eye as she stands parallel with him. "What's stopping you?"
He bites down on his bottom lip. Salem's essentially saying he's afraid of her, and that's the reason he hadn't just gone over and healed Cinder to begin with.
And damn it, but it's true.
Jaune wishes he could overcome his own self-preservation instincts for Cinder's sake, but the truth of the matter is that instinct is a powerful thing. It's easy to say one's not afraid.
It's a lot harder to actually be not afraid.
Still, he doesn't address her as he steps by her, and kneels down at Cinder's side. His semblance is coursing over her a moment later.
"I'm sorry I hesitated." He tells her, shaking his head. "How are you feeling?"
Cinder just groans, and Jaune feels worse.
He can't keep fearing retribution from Salem every time he makes a decision. He's the Rusted Knight for goodness' sake.
"You'd be better off focusing your semblance on her core."
Jaune practically springs into action, his hand on his blade as he turns on a dime, looking up at Salem, standing above him with an absent expression on her face.
"What are you–"
"The core will heal her extremities in time." Salem speaks. "But if she has sustained any injuries there, her body's function will be far too focused on those to bother with anything else. Tyrian was instructed not to break anything. None of her injuries will persist beyond a few days."
Ah, like that makes it all fine.
"My semblance reinforces her aura." Jaune states. "It's less that I'm healing her, and more that I'm supplying her with the means to heal herself."
"Ah, I see." Salem seems intrigued about this, bending down so that she can see more closely the affect that his semblance is having on Cinder. It makes Jaune supremely uncomfortable. "How interesting. This almost resembles the fortification magics of old."
Jaune's expression falters. "The… the what?"
Salem hums out a note of amusement. "Worry not." She smiles at him, and that does nothing to make him feel better. "Such does not concern you. Don't you have someone to be focusing on?"
He does just that, focusing back in on healing Cinder. He can't help noticing that Salem hasn't left, however, still hovering there at his shoulder.
"What… are you still doing here?" He asks hesitantly. He doesn't want that to sound confrontational. Cinder could pay for it if she takes it as such.
"Because she is someone who has caught my interest, Jaune of Arc. The same as you have." She smiles, then, a look in her eye like she has him all figured out. "A man of magic, from an untold dimension."
His eyes widen, but before he can question Salem's seeming knowledge of him…
"Ah, but I've been distracted. I originally stayed behind to let you know that I have a mission for you."
He nods his head slowly, having long since expected to be doing things like this. He just hopes he's not going to be hunting anyone down.
"What kind of mission?"
"Reconnaissance, and, if such goes well, perhaps even retrieval." Salem speaks. "You see, rather recently, Watts brought something to my attention. It was a video uploaded on some newfangled website… the point of which I still do not grasp, but that is beyond me at the moment. In my day, we had more important things to be doing than wasting away in front of a screen."
Jaune's not really sure what to think about the fact that Salem is, essentially, an old codger yelling at clouds.
Just an exceptionally dangerous, sociopathic old codger.
"But I digress," She summons a scroll seemingly out of thin air – it had to have been on her person somewhere, not that Jaune had been able to tell – and activates it, a video popping up. "This was uploaded by a student at Beacon Academy a few days ago. Apparently, it was an upset where a first-year team managed to defeat all comers, and make it into the Vytal Festival. Have a watch."
Jaune doesn't like… really all of this, but it's not like he has any other choice. He takes the scroll, and presses play on the video.
The person recording – likely a student – is not at all the world's best cameraman. If anything, Jaune would put them bottom five. They barely seem to be able to focus on the action as the fourth-year team – Jaune presumes, based off what Salem had said – is slowly picked apart by the smaller, less experienced first year team.
All of their members are at least passable, but one of their members is dragging. The other two – a three-man team? – are carrying him a little. One has dark brown hair, and darker skin. The other has black hair, and–
A breath catches in Jaune's throat, one he does everything in his power to suppress. He cannot, will not, give anything away with Salem right there.
He's lucky she hadn't been looking at his face. If she had… she'd have seen the look of utmost shock there.
Because as the battle concludes, as the audience erupts into cheers, boos, and shouts of anguish – presumably having lost bets – the camera zooms in on that final member.
It zooms in on the face of Ruby Rose, eighteen or so years old, exactly as Jaune had last seen her.
It's her. No doubt about it.
That confirms it, then.
He's not here alone.
The others had come through.
It fills his heart with hope, even as that hope is dashed against the rocks a second later.
"My mission…" He turns to Salem, handing her back the scroll. "What is it?"
"You will be going to Atlas in the coming days. Tyrian will be accompanying you." She tells him.
"Cinder?"
"Why, she'll be staying here, of course." Salem seems to take some glee in Jaune's grimace, then. "After all, she needs to recover, not be dragged across the world, does she not?"
He doesn't dignify that with a response.
"Once you have arrived in Atlas, the two of you will be attending the Vytal Festival as civilians. While you're there, you'll investigate this new… piece on Ozpin's board. If at all possible, you will retrieve her, and bring her back to me. There are a few things I wish to learn from her."
Immediately, Jaune decides that no, he will not be doing that. He'll need to find some method of protecting Ruby, he'll need to–
"Oh, and don't go failing now, Jaune of Arc."
Salem looks down to Cinder, who's seemingly fallen asleep on the floor, the fight having taken everything out of her, and leans down. She places her hand on the side of Cinder's face, and runs her fingers through the girl's hair.
Cinder mumbles quietly, leaning into the touch.
It sickens Jaune. The way that this monster pretends to care.
The way that Cinder seems almost to believe her.
"It won't be you," Salem says as she meets Jaune's gaze, "That will be paying the price if you do. Am I understood?"
Jaune seethes. It's all he can do to grit out between closed teeth, "You're understood."
Salem takes a sadistic glee in his inability to oppose her, in her total power over him, even as she leaves the two of them behind.
And Jaune is left in the training room with his unconscious student, his hands balling into fists, his knuckles white.
Because he can't succeed. He refuses to succeed.
But if he fails…
He looks down at Cinder's peacefully sleeping form…
And he bites down on the inside of his cheek.
End Chapter 19
Welp, things are going great for two of our main characters (Ruby and Yang), kind of crappy for two of them (Blake and Weiss), and really shitty for the last of them (Jaune). We'll have to see how this arc ends up going! Hope you guys are excited.
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