Underneath a broken moon, up on a melancholy hill, a blond teenager dug a grave.

His grunts and groans lined up with each shovelful of soil out of the pit. He picked away at hardened loam and roots beside an oak tree. After an hour at a steady pace, he was down to his shoulders in Remnant's interior.

The echo of a dead man nonchalantly watched on. This far outside the city limits, the ghastly companion knew no one would disturb them. When the kid was at the point where only the top of his head showed above ground, the spirit stopped him.

"That's deep enough." Said Roman Torchwick using the boy's mouth.

Jaune Arc pulled himself out of the hole. Or tried. So tired was he that his grip slipped, and he nearly fell back in.

Just before that happened, a dainty hand reached down to grab his own. With a lightning quick pull, he was launched from the subterranean depth. This unexpected assistance sent him on another tumble into the grass.

Standing astride and looking down on him was Neopolitan. The pink and brown coloring of each iris swapped back and forth with each flutter of her lashes. Roman snorted and Jaune laughed.

"Thanks Neo."

Back on his feet, the lad picked up the bundled, man-sized mass they had brought with them. His face twitched at the smell. The ice that had once masked the odor had melted. Water dripped from the cloth as he reapproached the grave.

Lowering himself, but not actually getting back in, he held the remains over the chasm. Jaune tried to be as gentle as possible, but there was no tender way to drop a corpse into a chasm. It hit the bottom with a wet slap.

He winced. "Sorry."

"Didn't feel a thing."

Jaune next proceeded to fill the dirt back in. This action did not take nearly as long. To speed things along, Neo pitched in. A novel concept, but maybe the tiny woman was tired of standing guard and wanted to head home.

Eventually, all the displaced soil was returned from whence it came. Together, the fossors stomped on the slight, leftover hump to pack the dirt in. With their work completed, they walked over to sit under the tree that now served as a tombstone.

As Jaune cooled off, Roman spoke to them. "We're not done yet. Neo, if you would."

She grimly nodded. From her inside jacket, she pulled out two cigars. One for herself and the other for Jaune. A fitting tribute to a fallen mentor and friend.

The boy groaned, clearly not seeing it that way. "Do I have to?"

"You lost the bet. Now pay the wager."

Jaune grimaced as he set the hand-rolled tobacco tube on his teeth. Neo, having already lit hers up, tossed him a beat-up silver lighter. After a few tries, he got a small flame going under the already cut cigar end.

"That's right. Keep going."

When the tip became red, Jaune puffed in earnest. This was a rookie mistake. Smoke mushroomed out of the corners of his mouth. Neo reached over to pat his back as he hacked up a lung.

"This is 'orrible."

"Cheer up! Only twenty-four left to go!"

A drawn-out whine left Jaune's lips. Neo gave another tap of solidarity. And then she mimed a boisterous howl of laughter.

This moonlight wake had been devised to tie up a loose end. Their surprise visitors a week earlier had come close to discovering Roman's corpse. If that had happened, the ruse of Jaune pretending to be the gentleman thief would have been difficult to maintain.

Although Leroy and Tommy now nominally worked for them, Roman still did not trust the pair with the big secrets. It was common sense. The fewer who knew, the less likely it was to get out. That number was limited to the people currently present.

Of those, none would dare talk. Jaune, for fear of being arrested, and Neo, for being physically incapable. Roman had no interest in seeing that list grow. Thus, the hasty sendoff.

Personally, he did not care about getting a proper burial. The dearly departed thief would have just as soon discarded the freezer burned carcass like last year's fashion trend. But Jaune and Neo had overruled him.

They were disgustingly — and, in Neo's case, surprisingly — sentimental.

With this vulnerability taken care of, they could move on to other pressing concerns. Namely, the school-shaped elephant in the room. There was no point in avoiding the topic anymore.

"So, we're going to Beacon tomorrow." Roman said suddenly between drags on the cigar. "Ready to make your dreams come true?"

"You're not going to talk me out of it?" The teen got out through the coughs.

"We made a deal. If there is one thing I am known for, it is honoring my commitments."

Neo laughed again, thinking he was full of it. In this case, Roman was completely sincere. He would not do anything overt to deny Jaune this opportunity.

"In that case, not yet. I still need to pick up my equipment from Mr. Ferrous."

The weapon smith had been taking his time modifying the armor. Last they saw, he was making last-minute adjustments to integrate the sword into the overall design. Roman would admit that even he was curious about how it was going to work in the field.

"Well then, a quick stop there and then onward to glory! Or a messy death. Having experienced the latter, I would not recommend it."

Jaune smiled faintly. "Thanks."

"Hold on to that. You have not passed yet."

Just because Roman would not do anything overt did not mean he would not do something subtle. There was already a small test that he had set up. A paperwork mishap he had managed to engineer thanks to a well-timed possessed hand and a trash can.

In his own way, this act would be helpful. A little adversity never harmed anyone. They all soon would see how committed the boy really was to this foolish endeavor of becoming a huntsman.


I. New Beginnings


The rising sun signaled a new day.

People roamed Vale's midtown district to execute their morning rituals. There were representatives from all walks of life, from the suits who ran the city to the tattered wretches fighting for scraps. Among the latter group was Rufus.

The former second-in-command of the High Fly Flows lurked about a side street in these early hours with bleary eyes and stale breath. There was a crick in his back from having slept on a metal grate. He shifted about nervously, coiled and ready to pounce.

Rufus had so far evaded arrest. A mighty feat, considering what had happened. While he escaped the inferno and the immediate police response, he could not escape his notoriety. Within days of the incident, coppers had visited his rented house.

Slipping out the back, he once again narrowly avoided the flabby arm of the law. This time, though, he was in worse shape. There had not been time to grab any of the resources necessary for going on the lam, such as a fake ID.

Similar fates were befalling the rest of the gang. The cops were rounding up everyone they could get their hands on. This left Rufus with nowhere to go.

Roughing it on the streets was not a life event he had ever hoped to experience. Even at his lowest, he had never resorted to eating out of a trash can. Yet, he had done so yesterday. His prospects for avoiding doing so again were limited.

Shaw was gone. Either dead or captured. The Flows were through. They had caused too much of a stink and now the hammer was coming down on them.

Leaving the city was now Rufus' priority. Any other would do. Vacuo. Mistral. Mantle. Argus. He would even take Atlas at this point. All of them had their downsides, but they were better than where he was.

Getting out of Vale was the trick. VPD had no doubt sent his description to every border checkpoint. If Rufus so much as approached the Wall or a Bullhead, he would be arrested. Unless he could afford a bribe or a smuggler, he was stuck.

That was what led him to the midtown alleyway. There was only one way he knew to make money fast: stickups.

In his waistband was a low-caliber pistol. This weapon was his sole possession. With a single cartridge to his name, he was not going to survive any shootouts.

Luckily, he was not robbing a bank. Even a convenience store would be too risky. His ambitions were set lower. One fat wallet was all he needed. A decent shakedown and he would be out of the city by sunset.

Up the street from him was a lien vendor. Foreigners would go there to exchange their paper monies for the Vale standard. Rufus was hoping to hit someone walking to or from that direction. It was still early enough that no one would be expecting a mugging.

At least, that was what he hoped. So far, the few who had passed before him had been in groups of three or four. He craved an easy mark that would not give him trouble.

His prayers were answered when a raven-haired woman came down the same backstreet he occupied. Her attention was held by a map in her hands. It was the kind handed out at stations to help visitors navigate the city.

This broad was an elegant type. Lithe and youthful. Her clothing was a mixture of black and white that popped on the pale skin beneath. As if to signal her as a gift, she sported a sable bow on the top of her head.

Determined to seize this golden moment, he drew his gun. As she passed, he stepped out behind her. Before she could turn, he looped an arm around her neck and pulled toward him. The cool metal of his pistol was set on her exposed midriff.

His stomach bucked against a contraption strapped to her waist. There was a handle. A sword? Not ideal, as it meant she likely knew how to use it, but he was locked in now. Besides, the blade would not do her much good at short range.

After a deep sigh, she spoke in a cool, even voice. "How careless. You caught me unaware."

"Nobody's perfect." He snickered into her hair. "Be still now. I want your money, not your life. But if you make a move I won't think twice."

"I know the drill."

"Smart girl."

The arm hooking her slid down. Her pants were form fitting, allowing him to pat her down for valuables. A rectangular bulge on the outside thigh was a Scroll.

His hands moved around to check the back pockets as well. He gasped while cupping her rear end. She was a fit bird. That, or the girl was smuggling hams past customs down there.

Noticing this reaction, she hissed. "Find what you were looking for?"

He had not. But this was a fine substitute. Rufus was in the mood for some stress relief.

Under normal circumstances, he would have gone to Sweety's to solve this problem. Now, though, he was on a tight schedule. That did not mean he could not fit into something else that was equally tight if the chance presented itself.

"Lucky day for you, hun." He growled with lust. "I'll let you keep your possessions if you're down for a little fun. What do you say?"

There was no choice in the matter. The gun was firm against her spine. She knew how this was going down.

He marched her deeper into the alley. There was a cozy space beneath a fire escape and between two dumpsters where no one would see them. To discourage any fanciful ideas, he stripped the sword from her and kicked it aside.

"Up on the wall." He commanded.

Clearly knowing what he wanted, she reached out and touched the brick. Her back arched pleasantly as she propped her hips up. He stepped back to admire the view.

She was leagues better than any of Sweety's girls. By the time Rufus usually got his turn with them, they all looked like they had been through the ringer. This was going to be an enjoyable time for him indeed.

"Drop 'em."

She did not move. In fact, she went deathly still. Rufus wondered if fear paralysis had set in.

"You've been smart so far. Don't stop now. Do as I say, and I'll try to make this quick."

No reply was given as she maintained the position.

Rufus hated it when women got this way. Unlike Shaw and the others, he did not like beating on them. But he would if pushed. As such, he went to give her a love tap from the butt of his gun.

Instead of making contact, he went right through her. Like a hologram display. Not expecting this, he stumbled. Rufus watched as the image of her faded away.

"What the-"

Something then wrapped around his legs, pulling them together. He cried out in shock as he toppled over. His head bounced off the ground as he was lifted vertically. The gun flew out of his hand and into the dumpster.

Upside down, he looked at his feet. A dark, cloth-like material was wrapped around his ankles. His eyes followed the ribbon. It had been threaded through the fire escape ladder's bottom rung to make a pulley.

He slowly spun around. The girl was waiting there. In her left hand was that strange sword. The ribbon holding him up was connected to the sheath. She supported his weight comfortably while glaring with furious yellow orbs.

"Drop them? No. I prefer to hang them."

Frightened, he shot his hand out at her head. He had aimed to surprise her enough to let go of the system holding him up. She caught him easily by the wrist and squeezed. His spasming fingers closed around fabric. When she yanked his hand away, her bow came along.

In place of the knotted lace were distinct cat ears. Their fur matched the dark coloration of their owner's mane. These newly freed appendages twitched back and forth.

His mind overloaded at the revelation. The strange sword. Those powers. The disguise meant to hide faunus traits. Even her color scheme.

It all added up to one thing.

"White Fang." Rufus breathed.

She glanced away briefly before coming back to him. "Name. Now."

"R-rufus." He answered before thinking better of it.

"Do this often, Rufus? You were quite practiced."

"No."

"Liar." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "No more. You are through."

"Please-" A curved edge pressed against the apple in his throat.

"If I were not trying to keep a low profile, I would deal with you myself. However, I am willing to settle. You will turn yourself into the authorities and accept your punishment. Want to know how I know you will do that?"

He gulped. "How?"

Out came her Scroll. "Smile."

There was a flash. The bright light combined with the blood rushing to his head made it difficult to see for a long moment. When his vision cleared up, a screen was before his face. On it was his terrified mug.

"Wha-"

"I know your name. I know your face. No matter where you go, I can find you."

His blood chilled. Then it lurched. He screamed as he fell to the ground. Groaning, he sat up. The ribbon around his legs was gone.

And so was she.

"Better hurry." Her voice echoed around him. "Before I change my mind."

Heart thumping like a jackhammer, he got to his feet and ran. His plans for leaving the city were long forgotten as he sprinted down the street. From the corner of his eye, on the rooftops above, he saw a dark blur keeping pace.

The White Fang were a tenacious bunch with a wide reach. Avenging one of their own would be very motivating. With the information she had on him, nowhere would be safe.

Nowhere, but the one place Rufus had been trying to avoid.

As he turned the corner, a police station came into view. The blur broke off in the opposite direction. Still not feeling secure, he burst into the front atrium. An officer approached from the side, wary of the panting figure.

"Sir? Are you feeling well?"

Rufus explained who he was and surrendered.

/ / /

On the island of Patch, a blond man bent over a vegetable garden behind his family cabin. A row of weeds had shot up after a light morning rain. His well-callused hands ran along the soil to inspect the unwanted additions.

Rolling a specimen in his hands, he frowned. The stem was ridged with a triangular shape. They had not flowered yet, but he was sure these were nutsedges.

Their appearance was not a good sign. Nutsedges, also known as nutgrass, were tough pests. They competed with other plants for resources and added nothing back to the soil. Literal parasites. Left unchecked, the weeds would smother his sweet potatoes and hybrid tomatoes.

Problem was, Nutsedge was hard to kill. They were rhizomatous plants. Their tube-shaped root ran deep underground. Pulling the stem out would only treat the topical problem. He needed to get at the tuber.

There were no good options for doing so. Pesticides might harm the insect biome he was purposefully cultivating. Digging up the soil would likewise hurt the crops. The best he could hope for was that he caught the nutgrass before it had laid down roots.

His fingers got to work. Pulling on the stems, he ripped the nutsedge clusters out. Each precise tug was followed by a chuck over his shoulder.

On the last toss, there was a yip. The man turned in time to see a small black and white corgi running around in excitement. In its jaws was the nutgrass.

"Zwei. Here boy." Tai said with slight exacerbation.

The canine circled back and plopped down before the man. After a wag of the finger, Zwei released the plant matter. Tai patted him on the head.

"That's no good for you. Let's get you a bone to chew on instead."

The word 'bone' sent Zwei into a frenzy. He returned to all fours and dashed to the front of the homestead. Tai wondered if he had been tricked into giving out a treat.

Laughing heartily, he took off his orange t-shirt to wipe his hands. It was going to be washed later anyway. A few extra streaks alongside some sweat stains would not matter. He then began his slow pursuit of the runaway corgi.

A breeze picked up. It felt good on his sun-kissed skin. He stretched and hummed, enjoying the peaceful saunter.

Nearing the front, Tai heard barking. Thinking it was a plea to hurry up, he increased his gait. Contrary to expectations, Zwei was not on the porch scratching impatiently at the door. He was instead down the gravel pathway leading to the woodlands.

Wondering what was going on, Tai made to join the dog at the tree line. Zwei paced in circles. He continued yapping away even as his human arrived.

"What's got you worked up?"

The answer came in the sound of hooves on loose stone.

Down the road, steering around the thicket, came a pale horse. Riding atop was a familiar caped man. He lazily waved to Tai as the mount brought them all together.

"Yo." Qrow Branwen stated blandly.

"Quite the entrance." Tai responded with a similar level of disinterest. "I'll admit it. Seeing you ride in like a harlequin novel cover model was not on my list of likely events for the day."

"You're one to talk there, topless wonder." The man on horseback leered.

Tai looked down on his own bronzed torso. There was barely an ounce of fat with plenty of corded and sinewy connections. He shrugged his well-defined shoulders.

"If you got it, flaunt it. Oh wait. You don't."

"Sorry Mr. Show Muscle." Qrow grunted while swinging out of the saddle. "But I don't have three-to-four hours to waste working out every day. This huntsman gig I got is full time. Remember what that was like? To be something more than a busybody?"

"My recollection is top notch. Can you even recall last week? Or has all that day drinking finally shredded what remained of your short-term memory?"

"Maybe I'm not as sharp as I used to be, but anything important will naturally be kept on top of mind. That said," He squinted at Tai. "Who are you again?"

They were nearly nose to nose. The glares between them were fierce. Zwei sat off to the side with his head tilted.

Then they were both laughing.

Tai pulled his longtime friend in for a fierce hug. Qrow reciprocated the embrace with just as much force. Despite his rail-thin appearance, the Branwen could exude some real strength when he wanted to.

"Glad you're here." Tai whispered.

"Yeash." Qrow pushed him off. "You act like I've been gone for months."

"You have been gone for months."

Qrow gasped in faux astonishment. He grabbed the reins of the horse and led them all back to the cabin. Zwei circled around, clearly curious but not wanting to get too close to the much larger animal. Tai had no such compulsion.

"Where did you get this gorgeous creature?" He asked while gently petting the snout.

"Got him in a poker game."

"Poker game?" Tai raised an eyebrow. "With your luck?"

"Who said I won?"

"Fair enough. Does he have a name?"

"Been calling him Buddy." His red eyes went to the stallion. "What do you think? Like it? One clop for 'yes.' Two clops, 'no.'"

There was an immediate singular tap of the hoof. Tai's other eyebrow rose to meet the other. There was no mistaking the show of intelligence.

"Buddy has Aura?"

"Yup." Qrow popped the 'p.' "Knows how to use it, too. Original owner was a huntress."

Tai nodded along while checking over the equine. His family had specialized in breeding huntsman caliber dogs, but they had a couple of foals as well. Very reliable creatures, when raised with care. Beautiful as well.

This one was no exception. Powerful legs. Sturdy body. Good teeth. The coat and mane were a bit dirty, but that was nothing a decent brushing could not solve.

There was one thing that Tai did notice right away. Not necessarily a problem. Just something that did not match what he was being told by his former teammate.

"Uh, Qrow?"

"Yeah?"

"This is a mare."

"Huh." The current huntsman gave an appraising look between the equine's back legs. "Well, they give off a stud-like energy. You could understand the confusion."

Buddy whinnied. Tai rolled his eyes but smiled good naturedly. Missing the obvious was one of Qrow's specialties.

They separated briefly so that Tai could enter his house to put on a fresh shirt. Outside again, he found Qrow sitting on the edge of the porch. Joining him, the blond passed the darker haired man one of the two brown bottles he had brought from the kitchen.

Zwei had gotten over his initial wariness of Buddy. The two had struck up a fast friendship and were now racing each other across the meadow. Given their enhanced stamina, they would be at it for hours.

The men watched them go. Qrow took a gulp from his drink. Bringing the bottle up to eye level, he made a face.

"What is this?"

"Kombucha tea." Tai said proudly before sipping from his own. "Drink. It's good for you."

Fermenting the yeast culture that made up the base of the refreshment was difficult but oddly rewarding. It had taken two months, but he finally had a breakthrough. Now he was experimenting with different additives for taste. This batch used elderberries and lime.

Qrow sniffed the brew. "Hmm. Think it's missing something."

Out came his flask. Unscrewing the top, he poured the contents into his tea before drinking deeply. His face went green at the nasty concoction, but he refused to acknowledge the mistake.

Tai then asked. "What brought you my way? Not that I mind having you around. Just strange seeing you before your teaching term starts."

The bootcamps Qrow taught at Signal occurred every four months and lasted for two weeks. Short but intense. That was the only way he could fit the lessons in between his travels.

"Trouble in the city. Got called in to deal with it in the usual way."

"White Fang?" The extremist faction had been coming up at the local defense force meetings.

"Could be. Oz hasn't given me my marching orders yet."

Tai hid his frown at the mention of Ozpin in another drag of Kombucha. Their relationship had soured over the years. There was a stretch where he hated their former teacher.

The tension had eased slightly. Tai was sure he could be civil if they were in the same room. Possibly. He knew better than to bring that up with Qrow, though.

"How long?"

"Month or two."

"That confident? I heard the White Fang were tough customers."

"We'll see. 'Sides, I doubt I'm going too far. The old man probably wants me to deter them from being so noisy in Vale. A couple of roundups and busted meetings ought to send the right message."

"Knowing you, you'll accidentally end up bringing down the whole organization."

"Don't you put that evil on me, Taiyang Xiao Long! If I do that, those Council chumps will rope me into their dog and pony shows for the rest of the year."

Buddy and Zwei ceased their play to look at the humans. There was a twinge of concern in their stances. Qrow waved them off.

"It was a figure of speech, fellas."

They went back to their frolicking. Tai laughed at both the Aura-infused animals and Qrow's misfortunes. Despite his open derision of Vale's political class, they adored the huntsman. Anytime a Council Member could, they pulled him in for a photo op.

What better way to shore up their approval numbers than taking a picture with a true hero?

For a while longer, the men sat and reminisced. They remained where they were until their bottles were empty. Eventually, Tai stood and collected the glasses.

"I'll make up the guest room. Anything I need to do for Buddy?"

"He, or I guess she, should be fine for the night. They'll wander around until they find somewhere safe to alternate between resting and patrolling for Grimm."

"That shouldn't be necessary."

Patch, thanks to the surrounding waters, did not have as big a Grimm population as the mainland. What monsters that flew over or washed ashore were picked off easily enough. Zwei regularly went out during the day to hunt for the stragglers.

"Don't worry about it. Buddy likes to explore." He paused. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Name it."

"I won't be able to take her into Vale. Even if I could, she wouldn't like it."

Tai crossed his arms and leaned against a pillar. "Need me to mind her?"

"Yeah. Sorry to spring this on you-"

"It's fine, Qrow." Buddy seemed well behaved and Zwei had already taken a shine to her. "Tell me, though. Where did the horse really come from?"

"That huntress I mentioned? The previous owner…" He stared into the distance. "She can no longer look after Buddy. Can't just dump them on some rando. That wouldn't be right. They are my responsibility."

The wording confused Tai. Did he mean the horse? Or the huntress? He decided against digging any deeper. Some things were best left alone.

"If this is a long-term stay, I'll need to build her a shelter." Even if Buddy wouldn't sleep in it, she would want someplace dry to wait out the occasional squall. "The trade outpost sells prefabricated stables. Might cost an arm and a leg but it would be better than anything I can rig up."

"Money's not an issue. Have you checked your bank balance?"

"Not recently."

"Trust me. You'll have enough."

There had to be a lot of lien in the account for Qrow to make such a pronouncement without seeing a quote on the structure. What had he done to be so confident? This was another story Tai figured he was best off not knowing.

"Okay. Leaving tomorrow, then?"

"Oz can wait. He'll be busy with initiation anyway. How about I lend a hand with setting up the stable? We could make a family activity out of it for just the three of us." He stood up, a little wobbly from his ill-considered whiskey sour. "Where is the little squirt, anyway? Off sulking because big sis left for Beacon?"

"Oh. Right. You haven't heard."

He blinked. "Heard what?"

/ / /

"Who's a good girl?" Yang Xiao Long cooed over her motorcycle.

Yang waited alone in a parking lot. She passed the time by pampering the two-wheeled machine affectionately named Bumblebee. Microfiber towel in hand, she buffed the yellow and black paint to remove smudges and traveling grime.

The sports bike was her main source of transportation. Its Atlas designed engine and heavy-duty wheels allowed for smooth travel on bumpy country roads. Meanwhile, the sleek paneling would fit in any city.

It was perfect. A glorious marvel. Yang's pride and joy.

It was also a distraction.

As she wiped away at the windshield, she saw her own reflection. A pretty face looked back. There were the lavender eyes and flowing golden locks that she remembered. But something seemed off.

She tried smiling. The strain was evident. Yang stopped. Worry lines appeared on her forehead.

Sitting back in the seat, she looked to the east. There stood Vale General Hospital. A premiere house of healing renowned throughout Remnant. Folks came from all over the kingdom to seek their medical expertise.

Yet Yang hated hospitals.

To her, they were not sanctuaries. They were traps to avoid at all costs. In her head, once you were admitted, you may never leave.

It was not what they did or even the people who worked in them that made her think this way. That would be unreasonable. It was the building itself that was repellent. Some combination of individual characteristics needled her deep-seated fears.

The disinfectant smell. The flickering fluorescent lights. The sniffling and coughing. The beeping of heart monitors. The labyrinthine corridors that concealed death and misery behind every corner.

All these traits together repulsed her. It was the reason that she was out here, with Bumblebee, rather than in there, with her sister. Yang could not work up the nerve to go in with her.

Some big sis she was.

She perked up when she saw Ruby and her distinctive red cape exiting the main building. Yang started up her motorcycle, popped on her goggles, and drove up to her. Silver eyes caught Bumblebee's approach. They met up in the curved driveway.

"Hey Yang." Ruby said glumly.

"Hey yourself." Yang replied and handed her a helmet. "How's your friend?"

"Still in rough shape. I just missed his last period of consciousness."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

Ruby strapped on the head protection and hopped on to ride pillion. She was so much lighter than Yang that the internal gyroscope barely registered her weight. They drove off with only the putter of the motorcycle staving off the quiet.

This should have been a joyous day.

The two of them were going to Beacon. Their hard work and studying had paid off. Doubly so for Ruby, with her being given a chance two years ahead of others in her grade-level.

As they reached a stoplight, Ruby could be seen in the side mirror. She was numbly looking off into space. Yang was determined to cheer her up.

"Hey Rubes. Think we can leave these cars in the dust?"

"Eh?" She squawked. "Leave what where now?"

"These guys." Yang gestured to the boring, monochromatic sedans that surrounded them. "Bet we could out rev them to the speed limit."

"I don't think that's a good idea…"

The light turned green. "Too late."

She twisted the throttle. They zoomed out into the empty intersection. Ruby's cape billowed into a crimson flag of awesomeness.

"Yaaaaang!" The younger girl cried out while laughing.

That was more like it.

They drove for a while longer before reaching their destination. It was the lockup for her bike. When the teens rolled into the garage, Ruby jumped off. Her small fist playfully hit Yang on the arm.

"Ouch. Abuse!"

"Meanie." Ruby puffed.

"What?" Yang shrugged. "We needed to get those juices pumping. Can't have us set to low energy. How will we pass initiation going around like zombies?"

The other girl calmed down. A look of determination crossed her face. One Yang had not seen before. At least, not on Ruby.

"We will pass. I swear it."

The older sibling did not doubt the younger's words. Yang right then made her own internal resolve. She would watch Ruby closely, just to make sure she did not bite off more than she could chew.

Suddenly feeling way too serious, Yang pulled Ruby under her arm. The smaller girl struggled to get away. It was too late for that. She was treated to a rough noogie.

"Let's do this then. But remember, swearing is not allowed!"

/ / /

Jaune swore loudly and plentifully.

He stood in the center of an airport digging through his luggage. Those passing by gave disapproving looks. It was unlike him to make a spectacle of himself, but the boy was too alarmed to care.

Since all he had was a carryall of clothes, his armor backpack, and his family sword, the mad search should not have taken long to find what he needed. Yet it did not yield what he was looking for: A Bullhead pass.

The pass had been mailed to him along with his academy acceptance letter. Now it was nowhere to be found. His literal ticket to Beacon was missing. Of all the important items in his possession, he had picked a splendid one to misplace.

After a third run through, Roman interjected. "We have money. Just buy a new one."

The teen checked his wallet. There was plenty of lien inside. Chuckling to himself over his miniature freakout, he walked over to a purchasing kiosk.

To his growing despair, a 'Sold Out' sticker was slapped over the price for the Bullhead line connecting Vale to Beacon. All the outgoing tickets had been bought up. Likely by the academy to reserve them for huntsman hopefuls.

Checking the departure times, he found that there would not be another shuttle until late into the next day. By then, it would be too late. Initiation would have already taken place. Jaune would miss his chance.

When this fear was communicated to Roman, he got the equivalent of a mental shrug. "Maybe it wasn't meant to be?"

Jaune's heart beat fast. This could not be happening. Not after everything he had done to get this far. He had to come up with another way to get there.

"The Bullhead would fly me to Beacon. Could I walk instead?" Jaune murmured.

"Want to run that by me again, chief?"

He activated the map function on his Scroll. "See? It's not that far. Just a short walk through the Emerald Forest."

"The same Emerald Forest in which you almost had your head crushed by a giant murder hornet?"

"I made it through."

"Barely! Think rationally! Neopolitan and that rabbit chick won't be there to bail us out of trouble again."

Roman was right on that front. Neo was off on her own business, and they could not rely on being rescued by another student. If that did happen, the teachers would rightly question if he belonged. Jaune did not want to hear it though.

"Help me then!" He snapped.

"Don't get snippy with me! This is your foul up. Not mine."

Jaune gritted his teeth. "I know. I… need this! Help."

While putting away the Scroll, Jaune thought he saw red on his palms. He shook them. They went back to normal.

"Cool your jets and let me think." A few agonizing seconds passed. "How badly do you want this? Because I see a way, though it's legally dubious."

"Have you ever had an idea that did not break a law?"

"Good point. Check your six."

Next to the public bathrooms was a push door. There was a placard over the top labeling the area as 'Employees Only.' A woman wearing street clothes went inside. Two men in gray and beige uniforms came out.

"Can I go in there?"

"I don't see anyone guarding the place." On Jaune's hesitation, Roman gave a push. "Act as though you belong and no one will question it. You can go far with a little confidence."

"Confidence." The teen mumbled.

His father had once said something similar. Advice for a hapless son's infatuation with a playground crush. That had not worked very well back then, but the reassurance now did get him to push through the door.

Inside was a standard communal changing room. Gray lockers lined the right-hand walls with benches before them. People were present, but they were all too focused on dressing and undressing to pay him any mind.

To not stick out, Jaune ducked into a lavatory stall to wait. While there, Roman left his body to scout out the room. After a few minutes, the thief called him over.

"Got something!"

Jaune flushed the toilet and exited the stall. The spirit was next to a locker on the far end. This unit had not been closed properly. The teen unlatched the door and swung it open.

On the metal bottom was some clothing. Digging through the pile, Jaune found what he was looking for. He quickly unbuttoned his pants.

Soon after, Jaune exited the room dressed as an attendant. His spares were tucked away in his carryall. He grabbed an empty pushcart and laid his baggage on top to make it look like he was shepherding someone else's belongings.

"Now what?"

Roman breezily free floated beside him. "We find you a Bullhead to sneak onto. One that you will not look out of place on."

After scouting the various takeoff stations, they found a ship that fit the bill. A pure white Bullhead with a blue trim was docked towards the center. Others dressed just like him were hanging around. Best of all, the departing gate stated the destination was Beacon.

While promising, Jaune was astonished by how grandiose the Bullhead was. It was three times the size of the other transport vehicles. He asked Roman about these differences.

"Must belong to a very important person. A true VIP. Lucky for us, huh? Just big enough to hop aboard and find a remote crevice to hide away in."

This got a nod from the blond boy. While not enamored with becoming a stowaway, it was significantly less illegal than he had expected. At least he was not pretending to be a cop again.

Someone cleared their throat behind him. He stiffened. Fearing he had been caught, Jaune warily faced them.

An angel stole his breath.

Snow white hair. Cold blue eyes. An angular face and petite body. Soulful music flowed like silk from cherry lips.

Remnant slowly turned around him as he basked in the radiance of this holy presence. He belatedly realized that the picture of perfection before him was of flesh and blood. A pinkish scar graced the skin over her left eye.

Yet this blemish did nothing to subtract from her beauty. It only added. She was real. An attainable idol.

"Are you listening?" Even her voice was majestic.

"Gwah?" Was his witty reply.

"Attend to my bags, Porter."

Beside her were several silver cases. She had been wheeling them along on her own and was now looking at him expectantly. His mouth finally caught up with his brain and rushed out an answer.

"Yes ma'am. Right away ma'am."

"Finally." She harrumphed.

The worldly divinity strutted towards the grand Bullhead, leaving him alone with the cases. Not wanting to disappoint, he began loading them onto his trolley. They were quite heavy, yet his flushed cheeks had little to do with the effort to lift them.

"Well, I'll be." Roman said as he slipped back into the Aura stream. "Didn't expect for you to rub elbows with the rich and famous so soon."

"Who was that?" Jaune asked, still in a fuzzy trance.

"That was Weiss Schnee." The thief noticed the blank look on Jaune's face. "Schnee? As in the Schnee Dust Corporation? SDC? The single largest Dust conglomerate in all of Remnant?"

"She owns a whole company!?"

"Will own. Future tense. Provided she doesn't get disowned like her older sister." Roman chuckled. "Boy, that was a bit of drama. Who would have guessed Jacques Schnee would throw his own flesh and blood to the wolves over her joining the Atlas military. Though, I suppose when you have spares, the eldest becomes expendable."

"Wow. You know a lot about her family."

An uncomfortable amount. That information seemed quite private. Gossip and rumors had always made Jaune uneasy.

"I do my research, just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case I ever get the chance to rob the Schnee Estate. Knowing their interpersonal dynamics could make the difference between getting away or not. For instance, if I need a hostage, I know taking one child will not do me any good."

"That's horrifying." Jaune said after wrestling the last of the cases into place.

"Hey! Think about it from my perspective. I'd be the one forced to live with braining some poor kid because their father cared more about a trivial amount of money than the safety and wellbeing of their child."

"Who says you'd have to do that?"

"Rule number 6: Don't make idle threats. Your credibility is tied to your willingness to follow through on what you promise. If you don't, marks will not take your demands seriously."

Another rule to remember. Jaune wanted to shake his head. Weirdly, this rule was similar to his grandfather's mantra of 'an Arc always keeps his word.' He hoped this was not what the old warrior had meant.

Also, he was reminded of what they had told Leroy and Tommy to force them to join their cause. Specifically, the fish food threat. It was oddly specific.

Had Roman and Neo followed through on that threat before?

These were highly uncomfortable thoughts. Bullhead engines charging up for takeoff took Jaune's mind off them. He could not afford to be late. Cart in tow, he made for the jumbo shuttle.

He was met at the loading zone by other attendants. They admitted him without comment. No one present was paid enough to question his presence.

On board, Jaune spotted Weiss seated near the front. She was busy checking her Scroll. Roman advised him to stand close so as to look like he was serving the VIP. This would prevent anyone from trying to assign him a ship task.

It worked. Everyone gave them a wide berth. He relaxed slightly as they took to the sky. Soon they were over the forest and flying towards a shining castle.

"Beacon, here I come."