Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There are many a tale from the dawn of humankind that have long since been forgotten.

Such things make sense, of course. Humankind has been wiped from the face of Remnant twice, the first by the brother Gods, and the second by the twin immortals, whom fought against one another numerous times, yet whose wrath once shook the very world to pieces.

A tale from before either of those cataclysms, a tale from before the Brothers’ departure, from before the union of Salem and Ozma, however? No such tales exist within the world of Remnant any longer.

But there is one, perhaps, that is worth reviving here. One which has been long forgotten, even by those who participated within its creation. A tale that, while not entirely true, for no tall tales are, is still worth hearing.

The tale of the Mad King, Jaune D’Arc; uncle to Salem D’Arc.

/

This tale begins rather simply; a set of brothers are born to a King and Queen, more than a decade apart. The first is of little import in this tale, and his name has been long forgotten to time, forgotten even by his daughter, who yet draws breath to this day.

The second brother, however, is the villain of our story. Jaune D’Arc is born the runt of the proverbial litter. An accident, one not even meant to exist.

Where his brother is big, and strong, and powerful, he is lanky, and weak, and pathetic. Where his brother is heroic and beloved, he is dark, and oft forgotten. Where his brother’s magics are fearsome and powerful, his are underwhelming; only a shadow of what his line is supposedly capable of.

Such things are not lost on Jaune. Of course they aren’t. The second son to a minor lord of the Land of Light, the domain of the God of Light, one of the brothers. Their kingdom, if it can truly be called that, contains only a few thousand people.

Of course, to the average peasant of the time, such is still monumental. And for Jaune D’Arc, it is everything.

As a boy who exists in the shadow of his brother, and then as a man who does the same, Jaune D’Arc relishes in the royal blood flowing through his veins. He relishes in the fact that he is second in line to be king, for he has nothing else. His brother has already said that he wishes not to rule their kingdom for his entire life once their father eventually abdicates the throne.

And then… it will be Jaune’s turn.

Or at least, that had been the expectation.

Yet when the throne is abdicated, when Jaune’s brother takes the throne, he takes a wife as well. A wondrously kind woman, with whom he sires an heiress.

Her name is Salem.

And suddenly, Jaune’s brother’s attention shifts.

Raising his daughter takes priority, especially after Salem’s mother passes away of plague. The two are nigh-on inseparable, and though Jaune initially suspects nothing to be awry, when it comes time for his brother to abdicate the throne…

It is Salem’s name that is brought up to fill it.

Jaune is furious; terribly so. He argues with his brother for hours on end, reminding him of where they’d always stood on such an issue.

But Jaune’s brother had not been blind.

He had, in the time he’d spent alongside him, seen what kind of man Jaune had been fast becoming. He had seen the darkness in his heart. If he were to be king, then he would most certainly abuse his position.

He shall not be king. That is his brother’s decree.

Jaune attacks his brother in a fit of blind rage, and is, for his efforts, banished from the kingdom of D’Arc.

He is thrown from the gates by his brother’s guards, and told never to return.

A mercy that Jaune D’Arc likely wouldn’t have given out himself.

Licking both his wounded body and pride, Jaune D’Arc flees the Kingdom. He moves out to the countryside, and recovers over the course of many moons.

His hate festers, however. Unable to accept what has happened.

And then, an idea strikes him.

Jaune D’Arc begins to spread rumors in the peasant village he’s ended up in. He tells them of the evil king and princess who have risen up in his Kingdom, and stolen it away from him. He tells them of his own birthright, how he had been meant to be the one true king of the D’Arc Kingdom.

And though he has never been quite so strong, or heroic, Jaune D’Arc has always been quite clever.

The people of the countryside believe him, and Jaune D’Arc promises each riches beyond their wildest dreams if they will but help him reclaim his kingdom. Many agree, but Jaune is not yet confident in his chances. No, he will need a veritable army to finally claim that which is rightfully his.

So, he goes and collects one.

For two whole years he scours the countryside, spinning greater and greater falsehoods about the King of the land of D’Arc, about his own claim to the throne, and about the evil princess who has stolen it away from him.

And eventually, when he’s gathered a strong enough force, Jaune D’Arc returns.

He sweeps the D’Arc kingdom’s feet out from under it, and slays his brother within his old throne room. He’d planned to do the same to Salem, to slay her as well, and then take his rightful place on the throne…

Only for the dying words of his brother to convince him otherwise.

“Please… spare Salem… spare my daughter!”

Jaune D’Arc does just that. He will not have her in his kingdom, but just as his brother had long ago done to him, he sends Salem away. He will not give her the same opportunity to spread information about the countryside, to rise up against him, however. Instead, he sequesters her into a tiny tower, and locks her away there.

And that perhaps should be the end of this tale. The Evil King Jaune D’Arc takes his throne via lies and deceit, and rules with an iron fist until his eventual death. But that is not the case.

For there is a young knight of a neighboring land, one whom wields modest magics, but possesses a stalwart soul, alongside a brave, kind heart.

His name is Ozma.

And this section of the tale, you likely know.

Ozma frees Salem from her tower, and the two of them fall madly in love. But as they attempt to make their getaway, King Jaune D’Arc orders them to be captured, and, his earlier mercy betrayed, executed.

But Salem and Ozma join as one, and together, they defeated the Tyrannical King Jaune D’Arc.

That, likely, should’ve been the end. But Jaune D’Arc has something up his sleeve; something none of them had expected.

For he has been researching magic, and its varying uses. And from it, he has discovered something that he is determined to utilize.

A type of magic that will allow him to become something more than human.

He activates this transformation, and his form changes. Horns sprout from his skull. Great wings erupted from his back. His teeth grow longer, his eyes sharper. The sclera of his eyes turn black as night, and his ears sharpen at the ends.

He has become a creature of the dark.

Inevitably, he has grown far more powerful. But Salem and Ozma, their powers combined, are still more than his match. Where he tries to overwhelm them with pure, brute strength – something he’s always lacked, and something he’s always thought a necessity – Ozma and Salem fight back with careful cunning, and sure planning, something Jaune had once commanded.

And the dark king is defeated.

His powers, however, begin to run wildly out of control once his body has been weakened; the cost of his transformation now evident. When Ozma attempts to strike the finishing blow, to end the life of Jaune D’Arc, the man’s wounds instead close.

He has become something stranger; almost alien.

Something outside the laws of the Brother Gods

And so, the Brothers come, their arrival heralded by a grand light, and a yawning darkness. They bring about a terrible punishment upon Jaune D’Arc. They take up a mirror that had long hung within Salem’s tower, and trap the Dread King within it, locking him away for what is meant to be all eternity.

Jaune D’Arc screams that he will have his vengeance, that they cannot hope to contain his fury. And perhaps he is right, over a long enough period of time. Perhaps, one day, he will go free from his prison.

But in that moment, none listen to him. Not even the gods, supposedly omniscient, pay him any heed.

He has been defeated, and soundly so.

A hex is placed upon that mirror, putting the trapped being within into a deep slumber, and then that mirror is itself placed inside a box, locked tight. It is flung into the farthest reaches of the world, into a land of snowy peaks, and frozen tundra.

And there, it lays, entirely forgotten.

A mirror, which holds within an entity from the dawn of time.

Eons pass without a single thought spared towards the Dread King, and perhaps rightly so. It will be only a few years before Salem herself will disobey the Brothers’ laws, and be cursed. It will be only a few centuries before she raises an army, and attempts to dethrone the Brothers.

It will be only a millennia before Ozma and Salem join, hand in hand, and attempt to bring order to the kingdoms of man.

And yet, lurking within the cold confines of the land that will, one day, come to be known as Solitas, deep within the frigid icebergs, and wedged inside a great vein of Dust, sits the mirror of the Dread King, long forgotten.

And it is here, over a hundred thousand years after his initial confinement, that our story truly begins.

Because a drill pierces through the rocks around that vein of Dust. Pickaxes come up and down around it, and pull it from out of the crust of that which remains, the realm now known as Remnant.

And when the foreman who looks at it, his long coat emblazoned with the sigil of the SDC, notices that their drill had connected directly with that very mirror, and yet left not a scratch…

He thinks that perhaps he might send the item higher up the chain of command.

This item, it seemed, is worth noting.

It takes a few months for it to eventually find its way into the hands of Jacques Schnee himself, who seems perfectly content to place the object within his study, perhaps on his bookshelf, and forget about it entirely.

And yet…

Instead, the SDC’s false patriarch decides that he can use this newfound item in a different way.

A gift for his upstart daughter, whom he’s only just reclaimed. A way to remind her of her imperfections; of the marring upon her face – the scar down her left eye. A subtle way to bring her ballooning ego back in line.

Yes.

He will give the mirror containing the Dread King to one Weiss Schnee.

And the rest, as they say…

Is history.

/

Weiss Schnee had gone through in the last month or so what most people would agree was a bad time.

The place she’d come to think of as a second home, Beacon Academy, had been attacked and nearly destroyed. Her closest friends, those she’d loved more than near anyone in the world, had been beaten and scattered. And then, just when she’d thought she might be able to assist in picking up the pieces…

Her older sister, whom she’d trusted, had dragged her back to Atlas; back to the Schnee manor.

And now, here she was, being made to sing in a charity concert for Beacon Academies’ recovery, in front of several hundred rich donors, while others, likely some of the members of her team, attempted to actually fix problems in Beacon and Vale.

It disgusted her. All of this… this posturing… it disgusted Weiss. Could they not donate without making a show of it? Could they not do the right thing without cajoling?

Yet here she was, with nothing she could do but attend.

There was a knock on her door, and she turned to see Winter, of all people, stood in the doorway.

Things between them had been… for lack of a better word, strained for the last while or so.

Weiss had been firm with her sister during their time training in Beacon for the festival that she wished to remain within Vale until her education had concluded, at the very least. And yet, her sister had gone against her wishes, and taken her back to Atlas without her consent when she’d been unconscious from utilizing her summoning.

She loved Winter; genuinely, without any of the baggage that she felt for the other members of her family, but…

Even so, she was angry with her.

“Weiss.” Winter nodded her head, either uncaring of the awkward air hanging about the space, or simply doing her best to barrel through it. “You look wonderful.”

Weiss had dressed up for the charity concert – not by her own choice, to be clear, but because her father had not given her a choice – in something somewhat fancier than she’d normally wear. It was very similar to her newest combat outfit, with long, sleek sleeves, but it differed in that this had a flowing gown instead of the others much more reasonable combat skirt.

Winter had never been a fan of combat skirts; the reasoning behind which evaded Weiss.

“Thank you, Winter.” She sighed, trying her best not to vent out the anger she was feeling upon her sister, who had evidently come here to wish her well. “I take it you will not be staying to watch my performance?”

“I’ve Specialist business.” Winter spoke, and she was almost certainly telling the truth. She’d only been growing more and more busy as the days following the attack on Vale continued onwards. She’d not told Weiss much, but apparently, her work related to the hacking job done on the Atlesian mechs. “I apologize. If I could stay, I would.”

Weiss didn’t truly mind that much that Winter wouldn’t be around. She’d not be putting her soul into the music either way. This… if she had any choice in the matter, she wouldn’t be singing at all.

She told Winter as much, and her sister did smile; she’d always had the same problems with their family that Weiss had.

“A word of warning; one of the butlers told me something rather interesting as I was passing by the servant’s quarters.”

Weiss arched an eyebrow.

“Apparently, father means to give you a gift this evening.”

Weiss’ eyebrow went far higher on her forehead.

In a normal family, that may not have seemed so terribly odd. Gifts were exchanged for all sorts of reasons, and gifting Weiss something just after she’d finished performing in front of a large audience of rich backers would allow Jacques to perhaps pretend like he was a decent father.

But it was just so… unlike him.

“Thank you for the warning, Winter.” She smiled over at her sister, feeling aggravated and exhausted in equal measure at the fact that someone planning on giving someone else a gift in the Schnee family was worthy of warning. “But I must go on stage. Father will have words with me if I do not.”

Winter nodded her head, and then she departed soon after.

In truth, Weiss didn’t need to take to the stage for another fifteen or so minutes, but…

She just wanted some time to herself.

It was odd how stifling the Schnee manor could feel, despite the fact that it was the size of Beacon Academy, a building which held two to three hundred people – and could likely hold well over double that if it wanted to – quite easily.

She often felt at her least lonely within the manor when she was, paradoxically, alone. At least here, locked away in her room, she could act as herself, and not merely as a pawn in her father’s ever grander schemes. At least here, she could remain silent, instead of performing like a prized songbird in front of hundreds of attendees.

At least here, she could reminisce about her time in Beacon, and not have to worry about anyone seeing the tears that gathered in her eyes; unshed.

/

She sung adequately.

To pretend like the performance had been anything other than that would be a disservice to her own musical career.

Still, the sycophants that she had been performing for did not care for quality; not truly. Oh, they’d pretend to. They’d only see the most expensive shows, and eat at the most expensive restaurants, but Weiss was nearly certain that if she were to have an average singer perform for them while they were blindfolded, they’d have scarcely been able to tell the difference.

It was all a game to these people.

“Thank you, thank you,” Jacques somehow managed to steal the spotlight even from her own performance, stepping on stage and taking up Weiss’ microphone. “Another round of applause for my daughter.”

The crowd applauded again, and Weiss gave a fake smile, and curtsied.

“Now, in recognition of Weiss’ accomplishments this past year, and of course for singing here tonight, I’ve decided to gift her with something truly special. Woodrow, if you would?”

Jacques personal butler, Woodrow – a silver-haired man with a kind face and gentle demeanor – stepped up to Weiss holding an object covered with a silk sheet. He held it out to Weiss, and she took it when she was urged to.

“Well, go on, Weiss.” Her father ordered her to, and so she pulled back the veneer.

And beneath was…

Admittedly, even if Weiss could instantly recognize the purpose of such a thing, she could not help but be wowed by the sight of the mirror in front of her.

It was an incredibly ornate thing; the edges seemed to be lined with some kind of silver, inlaid with gems of various types. All of the gems were bluish in color – likely lapis lazuli, if she had to guess – and seemed to catch the light wonderfully.

She knew her father had gotten her this purely because she had had the mirror in her own room taken down when last she’d been within the mansion. He probably still thought she cared about the scar on her face, like she had when he’d last known her.

This had been, in the eyes of the masses, a wonderful gift. To anyone who knew the Weiss Schnee of a year ago, it would’ve been a grave insult.

That was her father in a nutshell, though.

Still, the Weiss Schnee of the current day did not care about her father’s pettiness, and instead held the mirror so that the others in the room could see it – as she was expected to, given this was all a show to her father. Many ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’, and eventually, Weiss was satisfied with the reaction.

“Please have it brought to my quarters at your earliest convenience, Woodrow.” She told her father’s butler, and the man nodded his head to her.

There was another light round of applause as she was made to hug her father – as dry and ineffectual an affair as it was – before the two separated, and began mingling about the crowd.

And then, of course, Weiss met that infernal man, who disparaged Beacon, and her own career as a Huntress. He disparaged everything the people of Vale had fought and died for.

So yes, Weiss had summoned a Boarbatusk on him, and then promptly had quite the evening as a result.

At the end of that evening, she’d had her title of heiress stripped away from her, and had been left alone in her room to both seethe and sob.

She felt well and truly pathetic, then.

She wished she was still with her team; with Ruby, and Yang, and Blake. She wished she still had her friends, Sun, and Neptune, and Ren, Nora, and Pyrrha.

And yet, instead, here she was. Trapped alone in a manor that she hated, now confined to it under the excuse that she wasn’t feeling mentally stable after the fall of Beacon, and…

And Gods, but she hated it all.

It was that thought that had her standing up from off of her bed, and looking to the opposite wall, where, just as she’d asked, Woodrow had already hung the new mirror for her.

It was far smaller than the full body mirror she’d had before, one which was easily two meters in length. This one was only around half a meter in diameter, but it was gorgeous, well and truly. She could appreciate that, even with how broken she felt.

There was some irony in the fact that she walked over to it, and stared at the person looking back. The Weiss in the mirror had puffy red eyes, makeup streaks down her cheeks, and a wobbling lower lip.

She looked sad, and lost, and broken.

Hah…

“Mirror, mirror, what's behind you?” She sung her very first song, the first song she’d ever released to the public. It felt appropriate. “Save me from the things I see… I can keep it from the world, why won't you let me hide from me?”

She thought back to the person she’d been then. She’d been… fifteen? Sixteen, perhaps? It hadn’t truly been that long, but…

She couldn’t have been more different now to the conceited, haughty girl she’d once been.

Now, she was a confident Huntress in training. Someone who could go toe-to-toe with the evils of the world, and come out the other side on top.

And here she was, being treated like a lunatic, trapped within a gilded cage.

The moment she had that thought, however…

Something happened.

She heard a rumbling, and when she looked up, it was to see the mirror hanging on her wall shaking. It was vibrating hard enough that Weiss briefly feared it might somehow dislodge itself from what was holding it to the wall – likely an adhesive of some kind, given Jacques would never allow anyone to nail anything to the wall in his mansion.

That proved to be true, as a few seconds after, the mirror fell, and hit the floor below. Weiss yelped quietly, and hopped back away, expecting glass to have broken off from the mirror when it broke.

And yet…

There was no glass.

In fact, the mirror seemed to be in perfect shape.

And it had stopped shaking.

Weiss was… hesitant, to say the least, as she reached down towards the mirror, and slowly drew it up into her arms.

And what she saw was…

Rather shocking.

For in the mirror, looking up at her with sharp eyes, and a dark expression, was a man she’d never seen before.

There were a lot of things wrong with that statement, and Weiss decided she’d go over them all. The first, and perhaps most obvious of all, was that there shouldn’t have been someone inside her mirror. That was not what mirrors were for.

The second thing was the man’s appearance. He had flaxen blonde hair and pale blue eyes, and seemed to be around twenty-five years old. That was around where the comparisons to a normal human being ended, in Weiss’ eyes. She had briefly thought he might be a faunus, given that he had obvious horns growing from out of his head, but she soon realized that he had too many irregular features for that to be the case.

He had the horns, surely, but also long, sharp teeth, slit pupils like those of an animal, and, from what little she could make out of his body, he also seemingly had batlike wings jutting from out of his back.

Which was simply too many different things to have going on all at once.

So yes, that was the second thing.

The third thing was that the man was talking to her.

“Hahaha…. Ah, finally,” He threw his head back and laughed, and in Weiss’ opinion, it was one of those laughs you might hear in a cartoon, so utterly ridiculous that it couldn’t be taken seriously at all. “Finally, I am returned! Girl, the power of thy song has restored me to consciousness! It seemeth the Gods’ prison was not so perfect after all, just as I foresaw!”

Weiss couldn’t help but feel like her response; which was to chuck the mirror into the opposite wall and run to the other side of the room to grab Myrtenaster, was entirely understandable.

What was less understandable was how when the mirror hit the wall, it left a sizable dent in it, and suffered no damage at all.

Was the mirror indestructible or something!?

“What trickery is this!?” The voice of the evil-laugh guy echoed out from Weiss’ carpet, where the mirror had landed face down. “Hello? Hello!? Tis black like the night! I cannot see a thing! Foolish girl! Thou will releaseth me from whatever ocular spell thou hast casted upon me!”

Weiss was panting, even as her rational mind attempted to explain away what had just happened.

A gift from her father that had suddenly started talking and laughing evilly… which was more likely; that he’d found some kind of ancient artifact containing an evil demon guy…

Or that he’d done all of this to scare the crap out of her with some fake, trick mirror.

It annoyed the hell out of her. It didn’t feel at all like something her father would resort to – essentially a mean-spirited prank – and yet she wouldn’t put it past the asshole, either.

“Yes, yes, very funny.” She groaned. “Let’s all have a laugh at Weiss after her academy got blown up and a bunch of people died. Really, super cool.”

“Art thou not going to release me!?”

…Although this mirror certainly seemed awfully talkative for having already spooked her.

“You got me.” She told it, waiting for it – or perhaps the person controlling it? – to laugh, and then stop doing… whatever it was they were doing. “You can stop now.”

“Stop!? Tis thee who must stop! Cease casting this inane magic, or I will have thee executed!”

Maybe it was just the night Weiss was having, but she found herself growling out under her breath. “And just who is it that you think you are!?”

It was as if that was the exact thing the man had wanted to be asked, because his complaints ceased, and he instead released yet another ten-or-so-second-long laugh.

“I am Jaune D’Arc! Ruler of the D’Arc Kingdom; Prime King among the Lords of Light!”

Weiss had to take a moment to just… absorb what she’d just heard.

And then she couldn’t help but ask, “…Who?”

That seemed to take the proverbial wind from Jaune D’Arc’s proverbial sails.

“What!?” He shouted back at her, evidently annoyed.

“I’ve never heard that name, nor that title, before in my life.”

“Thou… what dost thou mean thou hast never heard that name before!?”

Weiss just rolled her eyes. This guy was really keeping the performance going.  

“And I would advise you again to release me from whatever blinding magics you hath casted upon me! Do so, and I shalt forgive thy transgressions!”

Weiss’ ‘blinding magics’ in this case being the mirror lying face down atop her carpet.

She sighed, but ultimately acquiesced to the request, walking over and picking the mirror up off the ground.

When she did, she saw that the man was smiling once again, albeit somewhat dimmed to how positively elated he’d seemed before.

“Ah, good, thou wizened up to the fact that thou could not hope to contain my majesty! Intelligent and beautiful; perhaps I shall take thou on as a concubine once I subjugate this world beneath my heel!”

Weiss arched an eyebrow at him. “I will turn you over and lock you in my closet.”

“Aha…” Jaune D’Arc laughed awkwardly. “But of course, I understand. Thou would prefer the position of queen. Rather bold, if I must say, but I suppose I could make such arrangements.”

Weiss was halfway to her closet by the time the man’s pleading stopped her.

“L-Let us not make any such hasty maneuvers!” He implored her, and Weiss just shook her head, groaning out under her breath. “Thou hath my apologies. I simply assumed thou would wish to wed a prime specimen such as myself.”

Weiss didn’t even have the energy. She simply ignored that comment.

“Okay, fine. Let’s say I take you at your word that you’re some…”

“Lord of Light; ruler of the realm of D’Arc.”

“That,” Weiss hissed out. “Explain to me why you’re in a mirror, exactly?”

“Ah, a fine question, oh angel of freshly fallen snow.” Weiss’ left eye twitched. “The truth is that I was cheated out of what was rightfully mine, and when I fought to reclaim it, I was unjustly ganged up upon, beaten down, and imprisoned in this horrid vessel!”

Weiss sighed. “Explain to me why you are in a mirror with a few more specifics?”

 “Well, I suppose I can acquiesce to thy request. Leaving out some of the more… boring sections, in essence, my older brother refused to grant me the throne when he abdicated it, instead gifting it to his evil daughter. They then had me banished from the Kingdom for so much as kindly explaining why I felt like I should be the King, and not her. Can thou believe their nerve?”

“Next?”

“My, but thou art quite frosty,” Weiss took a deep, steadying breath, and resolved not to chuck the mirror out of the window. “Fine, fine. Anyhow, I assembled a fighting force of peasants and rabble – unfortunate that I had to resort to such paltry allies, but I had little other recourse – and toppled my brother from his seat of power. I then magnanimously allowed the young princess to leave, and even had a mighty tower built that she could live within. She proceeded to repay me for my kindness by coming back with some knight from another kingdom – who she’d likely seduced with her womanly wiles –” Weiss took another breath, really starting to consider the window as an option. “And attacked me. Me! After all I’d done for her, and for my Kingdom! Hah! The absolute nerve!”

Weiss’ eyes were closed. “And then?”

“Well… the specifics of the particular battle itself are unimportant.” Jaune D’Arc gave a fake cough, and Weiss just rolled her eyes. “But in essence, they cheated, and just as I was about to turn things around, and soundly defeat them, the Brother Gods turned on me! They had me confined into this mirror, and then cast some spell upon me to cause me to fall into a deep, deep slumber. After that, I know not what happened. I assume they burned my kingdom to the ground, and completely ruined the entire world. Just a general guess.”

Weiss massaged the bridge of her nose. “I’m sure.”

“Ah, I am gladdened to hear that thou agree with me.”

“That– sure, fine.” She decided that discussion wasn’t worth having. “So, that’s what happened, then? You had your kingdom stolen from you by… an evil princess, her knight, and the actual brother gods?”

“Indeed! Truly diabolical!” Jaune D’Arc made a tutting noise as he shook his head from side to side. “Now, tell me, young woman, have the former two already met their ends, or will I be given the pleasure of bringing them to justice myself!? Oh, and the Gods, where might I find them!? Do they still lurk within their previous lairs, or have they moved to different frontiers!?”

Weiss wasn’t quite sure how to word what she was going to say next.

Eh. Screw it.

“I don’t know who the people you’re talking about are. As for the Brother Gods, they’re just myths.”

Jaune D’Arc’s face was frozen in rather intense consternation.

“That– what–”

“In fact, I have no idea who the Lords of Light are, either, or this Kingdom of D’Arc you’re talking about.”

“What!?” The man laughed, as if she were telling a particularly terrible joke. “Surely, thou jest. The Lords of Light are those trusted to rule the lands by the God of Light! Those who have been chosen to lead the people through divine right! Although of course that utter bastard betrayed me, locked me in this terrible prison for months, perhaps even years! They will have to be punished as well!”

Weiss sat silent for a moment.

And then she said, “I have quite literally never heard of any of the things you’re talking about right now.”

The man in the mirror was silent for quite a while after that. There was this look on his face like he was thinking hard about something.

“…The landmass thou art standing upon in this instance; what is it called?”

“…You mean Atlas? If you are instead referring to the continent, then you must mean Solitas.”

The man’s expression stayed the same.

“And have thou ever heard of Lux-Iris, the capital of all mankind?”

“…I’ve heard of such a place in old fables? Some scholars say that that’s where humanity first lived alongside the brother gods. But that… most people don’t even believe those stories. And even the scholars that do believe in them say that such places would’ve been eons old; existing hundreds of thousands of years ago.”

The Dread King, who had apparently only been bested by two people named Salem and Ozma – whoever the hell they were – pursed his lips rather awkwardly as he placed his hands in front of his mouth, seemingly in deep thought.

“Hm.” He muttered.

“That is not good.”

Chapter Text

Weiss did her best to run Jaune – he insisted that she call him the Dread King, but frankly, she refused – through the last… well, thousand or so years of history, given that records any farther back were rather hard to come by.

It turned out that she knew a lot less about the minute-to-minute intricacies of history than she’d once thought she had when she’d been younger. She’d been tutored by the best of the best in Atlas, and if they could see her now, they’d likely groan, cry, and throw themselves out a window, in that order.

“So, there was a war.” She began.

“Ah, wars. I love wars. Who was fighting, and for what reasons?”

“Well, there was… the old government of Atlas? And for the sake of individuality.”

“I see. And Atlas, tis the place we currently reside within?”

“Indeed.”

“I see. And you say the old government? Who led this government? And assumedly, judging by your saying of the ‘old’ government, they were overthrown in this war?”

“They were… I think?”

“You think?”

“It’s… there’s… history is complicated.”

“…”

“Don’t just stare at me judgmentally!”

“I was simply waiting for thee to elaborate on the meaning of ‘complicated’.”

Weiss couldn’t fault the man – or, well, annoying magical mirror, which she still didn’t buy, by the way, this was probably just a semblance of some kind – on that front. She was, undeniably, being a lot less helpful than she had assumed she’d be.

“Alright. And these… faunus you speak of… they art human beings with animal parts on them that grant them specialized abilities, including, but not limited to: flight, the ability to breathe underwater, night vision, etcetera?”

“Yes.”

“I see. And I assume they are treated as superior citizens, due to their natural genetic advantages to humans?”

“Er… no. They’re actually racially discriminated against the world over.”

“Hm. That sounds incredibly stupid. Why haven’t they risen up and declared war on the world?”

“Oh, they did. They won.”

“Ah, so they enslaved all of humanity, then?”

“No. Humanity gave them an island that they could have all to themselves.”

“Ah. Where they would be waited upon and treated as nobility?”

“Uh… No. Almost nothing changed. If anything, the racism just got worse.”

The Dread King was silent for quite a while.

“The people of thy time are rather dull.”

“Yes,” Weiss sighed out. “On that, we are in agreement.”

 “Why haven’t the faunus just gone to war again?”

“Because…” Weiss floundered. “…I don’t know.”

“…”

“…”

“Thou are rather dull as well, it seems.”

“I will stuff you in a storage closet, so help me–”

“Aha, I meant droll, droll! Like… like amusing!”

“Sure.” Weiss gritted her teeth. “I completely believe you.”

“Wow, truly?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

There was a knock on Weiss’ door, then, and instantly, she felt a wave of… not quite liberation, but at the very least relief. She could let someone else see this whole… Dread King nonsense, and pass him off to somewhere he wouldn’t cause Weiss an endless number of headaches.

Because she was already starting to feel a rather potent one, and she’d been dealing with him for, maybe, thirty minutes.

Besides, this was assuredly just someone trying to trick her with their semblance. Weiss wasn’t daft enough to believe that the man within that mirror was really some ancient king from days long-gone.

She straightened out her outfit, looked down at the mirror – which showed Jaune D’Arc raising an eyebrow at her – and then turned towards the door.

As she opened it up, she saw just the man she’d been hoping to.

“Ah, Ms. Weiss,” Klein greeted her with a bow. “I heard about what happened at the charity gala. I wished to come and make sure that you were alright.”

“I’m fine, Klein, but thank you for worrying.” Honestly, if he’d come in half an hour ago, she’d probably not have been fine, but she’d been so distracted by the fact that her mirror had started talking to her that she’d forgotten all about the entire debacle of the evening. “If you don’t mind me asking, there’s actually something I’d like to show you, would you come in?”

“Ah, of course, young lady.”

Klein stepped into her room just as she’d asked, and immediately, Weiss steered him towards her dresser, upon which the mirror containing the ‘Dread King’ was located. Then, she made a grand gesture towards it.

“Look!”

In Klein’s defense, he did exactly as Weiss had asked him to. He stepped towards the dresser, upon which the mirror rested, looked down into it, and…

“I see my own reflection, Ms. Weiss. Am… I supposed to see something else?”

Weiss’ brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “What do you mean, there should be–”

And yet, when Weiss, too, stepped forward, she was greeted…

Well, she was greeted with a perfectly normal looking mirror.

Which…

“That’s not possible!” She shouted far louder than she really meant to. “That… there’s…”

She felt anger boiling up inside her at that inane fool that resided within it, using his semblance – or perhaps even some advanced technology – to disguise this mirror as some ordinary object.

“Jaune D’Arc!” She shouted, leaning forward and shoving her finger against the glass. “Show yourself this instant!”

The man did no such thing. In fact, the mirror seemed to grow somehow more normal as the seconds ticked on, and Klein stayed deadly silent, almost as if he was afraid a stray word might land him in a sizable bit of hot water.

…

He thought she was crazy, didn’t he?

“K-Klein,” She turned towards her attendant, who had been by her side for nearly her entire life. “I… you must believe me. There was a figure within the mirror, just moments ago! He was speaking to me, trying to convince me that he was some… some king from before the sundering of Remnant, that he…”

She was sounding even crazier the more she talked, wasn’t she?

“Ms. Schnee,” Klein smiled at her kindly, like he had been asked to handle a particularly fragile flower within her mother’s garden. “I would advise that you go to sleep early this evening. I’m sure you’re just tired, and that your father’s actions have left you feeling emotionally drained. I cannot blame you that. I’ll not tell your father at all about this, alright?”

Weiss felt more humiliated than she had about anything in her entire life, then. Her face was a bright red as she nodded her head towards Klein, and the man made his way out, bowing as he closed the door shut behind him.

And then, again, Weiss was left alone in her room.

“Well, thanks for making me look like some kind of loon!” She shouted as she turned back towards the mirror.

There was no response. In fact, Jaune D’Arc had disappeared from the mirror entirely.

Her brow furrowed.

“Would you just get out here already!? Haven’t you caused enough trouble!?”

Again, nothing.

Weiss’ eye twitched.

“…I’m not going crazy.” She told herself, shaking her head and letting out a rattling breath. “I am perfectly sane. I did not just imagine some… some idiot in my mirror! That happened! I know that happened!”

And yet, when she thought about it, she couldn’t exactly summon up evidence that it had happened, could she?

Had she…

Had she really imagined it?

NO! Weiss shouted inside her own mind loud enough that she now had a headache, which felt impossible. No, I’m not crazy. That happened. He’s just… hiding at the moment. Likely from my wrath.

…But perhaps Klein’s idea of getting some sleep wasn’t a terrible one.

And so, Weiss moved over towards her ensuite bathroom, brushed her teeth, flossed, used those annoying teeth whiteners – because gods forbid a Schnee’s teeth have any normal yellow coloration – and then retired to her bed.

As she did, she checked the mirror one final time, but…

She found nothing.

She growled out under her breath, even as she laid down, threw the covers up over herself, and laid down to rest.

She was asleep not long after.

/

The next morning, Weiss awoke having genuinely thought she’d imagined the whole thing.

That lasted all of thirty seconds before she looked over and saw the rather obvious dent in her wall that the indestructible mirror her father had gifted her had created.

Yes. That had all happened.

The jury was still out on whether or not the crazy talking lunatic in the mirror had been real, however.

Which was a thought that didn’t at all make her feel better.

Ugh.

Weiss got herself out of bed, and realized with no small annoyance that her father had told her rather explicitly that she was not to leave the mansion, as, according to the report he’d fed the media about her little ‘outburst’ the previous night, she was experiencing an episode right now, and thusly was too unstable to be seen by anyone.

AKA, he didn’t want her blabbing about him being a terrible father, and considered her a flight risk.

Double ugh.

Still, when Weiss thought about it, she came to a rather startling realization.

Her title as heiress had been taken away. All of her assets under the Schnee name had been frozen for the time being – and would likely remain frozen unless her father had a miraculous change of heart into a decent human being – and the media already thought she was losing her mind from the trauma of what happened in Beacon.

What, actually, could he take from her at this point?

…

So, it turned out, Weiss didn’t much give a shit about the fact that she’d been told explicitly not to leave the mansion.

She in fact took some sick pleasure in doing exactly that.

Being a Schnee, it was actually frighteningly easy to sneak out. She opened her window, conjured a few glyphs, and was gone before anyone knew anything had happened, hopping along them a good few stories in the air without a care in the world.

Oh, the guards outside the manse would see her, of course, but that was fine by her. They’d tell her father she’d left, he’d get mad, and probably curse her name.

Hah.

She had a destination in mind that day as she landed near Atlas HQ. It was not to enter into the massive building that loomed over the rest of Atlas like a silent reminder of the militaries overwhelming authority, nor the very nice dog park about a block down the road – no matter how much she wanted to go one of these days.

No.

Her destination was the library.

She was going in disguise, to be fair. She had her long white hair pulled up and hidden underneath a beret and a dark pair of shades – which made her look like Coco with about three times less effort put in – alongside a black dress that she’d had to wear to a board member’s funeral some three or so years ago, which was nice enough to be appropriate at the time, but also not quite nice enough to be seen as overdressing to a library.

Her father had, evidently, not cared all that much about that particular board member.

It was tight, and had rather clearly been fitted to the exact size she’d been back then, but she could manage sitting still and reading out of books with it on.

Atlas Public Library was a wonderful place; even Weiss, not at all a reader, could appreciate that. It was five stories tall, with each story dedicated to its own section.

The first floor was mostly nonfiction; science books, documentaries, and other such collections. There were a few students lurking about that area, sitting down at some of the many tables available.

The second floor consisted of fictional stories. Classics, romances, tragedies, comedies, and all sorts of stories from all different time periods. She thought Blake might have liked to peruse the collections here.

The third floor was for poems, and other such literature styles. Haikus, sonnets, and psalms also took their places here, alongside the occasional set of sheet music from classical orchestral pieces. It also featured things like fairytales, and children’s stories.

The fourth floor was filled, wall to wall, with comics, graphic novels, and even more obscure things like adult coloring books – all of which had certainly been colored in by now, Weiss was sure.

And the fifth and final floor was what Weiss was there for.

Books about Remnant’s history; about the cultures of Vacuo, Vale, Atlas, Mistral, Menagerie, and so many other former lands that had all but faded into the collective unconscious.

Far more relevant to her interests, however, was that there was also a section dedicated to the few discoveries that scholars and scientists all over Remnant had made about their world prior to the event referred to as the Great Sundering.

There were some fossil records that dated humans to being present on Remnant even so far back as a hundred thousand years ago. But then, for a long while after that, human bones grew much, much scarcer. It was considered a major accomplishment to find anything of human or faunus origin from the period that stretched from around 90 to 20 thousand years ago.

Which lead to the idea that some sort of mass extinction event had happened on Remnant, and nearly wiped humanity and the faunus out entirely.

It had taken them seventy-thousand years to recover – and perhaps for them to relearn such things as society and language – give or take. After that, the populations had seemed to recuperate, and mankind, again, flourished. But they never seemed to be able to do so to the same degree that they had been able to before.

In the past, it seemed that humans covered all sections of the globe, but nowadays, they were much more clumped together, due in large part to external threats that prevented them from spreading out safely; the Grimm, put plainly.

Some scholars suggested that the Grimm themselves, who sought only to hunt humans, had not been present before the Sundering. That their appearance on Remnant had been a result of the Sundering itself, and that their newfound predation on humans had impeded their populations from ever truly recovering.

She almost wished that blasted mirror was here now. She would want to ask him about such.

…Not that she believed him, of course! It was preposterous – completely insane (just totally stupid) – to believe that a man(?) could both be sealed inside a mirror for a hundred thousand years, and then just…

Well, wake up like nothing had happened, apparently thinking that he’d been asleep for a few months, tops.

She shook her head, even as she took the elevator to the top floor. She was both delighted and slightly annoyed at how well her disguise was working when a man brushed past her without even apologizing, but she stepped out to see…

Well, a good fifty-thousand books.

And no sign that explicitly stated, with an arrow containing giant bolded letters, ‘HERE IS THE INFORMATION YOU NEED!’.

That felt like an oversight that the library should work to remedy.

Still, there was nothing much else for Weiss to do but to… well…

Start looking.

She decided that she would cast a wide net at the start, and shrink her focus as ideas began to take on a more palpable shape. She had no real idea what she was looking for. Perhaps collections of fairytales, like the Maiden’s had been? No… no, Jaune D’Arc’s name, or perhaps a story about an evil king, would have at least been known to her.

She’d been read fairytales as a child, of course. Not by her parents, obviously, but by Winter, and some of the other servants. She’d heard of the Maidens when she’d been just eight.

Jaune’s story had caught her entirely off guard. It had all been entirely new information.

So, instead, she decided to start at the concrete, and work her way up from there.  

Weiss picked up a book about their moon, and many theories as to its origins, and its odd form.

The prevailing theory about their moon was that something, at some point, had shattered it, something with immense, almost magical power. That was a popular theorem because, by all conventional logic, the moon simply could not retain the shape it did. Gravity itself dictated that the many disparate pieces would either begin to orbit the central ball – which itself would gradually form back into a sphere – as a ring, or set of rings, or be subsumed back into the moon, eventually forming a spheroid that was essentially the same size as the moon had been before the impact.

Neither thing had happened. Instead, the shards of the moon were held in perpetual stillness, always the same distance away from the main body, which itself never collapsed on itself.

It was, in some fashion, being held there by force.

Such a thought disturbed something inside of Weiss. It was the same primal fear as that of the dark, or of the Grimm themselves. Something within her told her that such questions should not be asked, that such truths should not be sought.

Wisely, she decided to put that particular book away for the time being.

She ended up staying in the library for another three hours, but she never found anything that seemed relevant to her current problems. If she was out too long, her father was certain to send someone to retrieve her, and she’d really rather he didn’t make a scene that would prevent her from coming back the next day.

So, she packed up, and she returned back home.

She went in the window yet again.

The rest of the day passed by slowly. Weiss maybe shouldn’t have been shocked, cooped up in the Schnee manor, but… the thing that struck her, truly, was the amount of time she had to just…

Do nothing.

Of course, a good portion of that was the fact that her father was actively pretending like she didn’t exist, and the servants obeyed his whims – because he paid them, which was a fair reason, Weiss felt.

But…

When she thought further on the matter, she realized the reason she felt she had so much time didn’t have to do with her father, or the fact that she was stuck in the Schnee manor…

It was because she didn’t have Team RWBY around her.

It felt odd to admit to such; that she’d grown so used to her teammates’ presence over the course of the last year or so, but being without them felt incorrect.

She almost laughed, because she had a feeling that if they were around, she’d not be singing the same tune. After all, Ruby could be hyperactive and aggravating at the best of times. Blake was a menace, plain and simple, even if Weiss could understand the reasons behind such actions. And Yang was, frankly, insufferable on occasion.

…She missed them. She missed them more than she’d ever missed anything in her life.

She’d have taken them all at their most egregious if she could have them there beside her. Let her have Ruby hyped up on sugar and caffeine, bouncing off the walls and spreading rose petals everywhere. Let her have Blake high on yet another White Fang conspiracy within Atlas, constantly trying to go out alone and get herself killed. Let her have Yang with all of her crappy, crappy puns and stupid jokes and needling comments and hogging the bathroom in the mornings for an hour at a time.

Weiss sighed, and the hours ticked by.

She thought of her team, and where they were. She thought of Beacon Academy, and the other friends she’d made. She thought of Yang, and her now singular arm. She thought of Blake, having disappeared before she’d even been taken away.

She thought of whatever strange event had taken place with Ruby, her partner, atop the main spire of Beacon.

The frozen wyvern that still stood at the peak.

It was that thought that stuck with her, as she shut her eyes later that night, and allowed herself to rest.

/

Weiss had been going to the library for two or three days, and evidently, her father had decided that trying to contain her was a lost cause. He possessed, after all, quite literally nothing to threaten her with to stop her, and seemingly realized that getting one of the security squadrons to bring her back would cause quite the media stir, one he very much wished to avoid.

She might’ve been worried he’d fire Klein if she thought he had any chance of finding someone remotely up to the task of handling all of his responsibilities.

Besides, she’d been going to the library incognito, and the media hadn’t made a peep about her being sighted. He must’ve figured that was fine, then.

Let her go off and play her silly little games. At least she wasn’t bothering him.

Weiss rolled her eyes, but did her best to focus back in on the book she was perusing.

She was not reading it, because if she had truly tried to read any of the many books she had skimmed that day, then she’d have made it through a single tome instead of dozens. No, she’d long since accepted that she might miss something small, insignificant, but overall increase her efficiency by skimming over the books that sounded interesting quickly. Sticking mostly to the glossaries, and only digging deeper if anything jumped out to her.

Her method had, thus far, produced no real successes, but then, the first few books she’d picked up had been on rather lengthy and confounding topics. She’d have been lost attempting to read them anyhow.

She’d been tutored by some of the very best, but a mind for parsing scientific reports she did not have.

So, she instead parsed through far more readable books on the origins of mankind and the faunus.

…Okay, they weren’t that much more readable, but they’d at least been written with the intent of nonscientific people being able to digest them at all, so that was a plus in Weiss’ eyes.

In the end, however, Weiss made no real progress. She was beginning to grow rather annoyed, given that she’d been in the library off and on for half a day out of the last four or so.

So, she decided she’d try something new.

She went down to the third floor, where the poems, haikus, and fairytales were set up, and she grabbed as many as she could of the latter.

She’d dismissed the fairytales initially on the basis that she’d heard many of them when she’d been a kid, and none had been related to anything she’d heard from Jaune. But the moment her eyes connected with one particular book, and she cracked it open, she felt somewhat foolhardy.

Because of course, Winter wouldn’t have been able to read her faunus fairytales, would she have?

The faunus were, in their own way, a separate race from humanity. Of course, they shared characteristics, and their cultures had largely become one in the modern era – whether or not racists decried such as being the ‘fall of civilization’, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

But it seemed certain things never quite made it over into the public consciousness of humanity. The book on faunus myths had quite a bit of juicy information for her.

One particular passage, at the very least, provided her more information than she’d received anywhere else so far.

‘According to legends passed down through generations, there was once a pair of twin Gods. These gods were vengeful, wicked beasts, and they hated the denizens of Remnant for being imperfect creations. So, they cleaved apart the world, shattered the moon, and sundered the land. Then, from the ashes, they gave life to two beings.

They were called the two immortals.

They were powerful, and wise, but still, ultimately, human in their nature. They could not escape the petty squabbling that characterized our races, both human and faunus. So it was that, after the Gods themselves departed, the twin immortals were only able to rule in peace for a short time before warring against one another, leading both to eventually vanish from Remnant without a trace.’

Two gods, and two immortals…

Weiss had never heard of that specific story before. She supposed that that made sense. These were faunus tales, and their cultures had different myths, different fairytales and bedtime stories.

It was all fascinating in a distant way for Weiss, even if she had more immediate concerns.

Namely, trying to confirm if any of what that crazed mirror had said was real.

And so far, well…

She’d found nothing at all.

Hell, the mirror hadn’t even spoken to her since that night! It had been entirely silent, even when Weiss had threatened to store it away in her closet, and then had done that for a full day! He’d not said a thing.

Weiss… was really starting to feel like she was losing it.

By the time she’d hit her daily allotted hours in the library, she’d yet to find anything else of note. She hissed out under her breath, even as she stood, went downstairs to the main desk, and checked out the book on faunus mythology.

At the very least, she could do a bit more reading in the silence of her own room.

She arrived to find everything the same as she’d left it, albeit one of the maids had come in to change her sheets, and make her bed.

Weiss sighed as she sat down on the side of it, and realized that over the last four days, she’d made no real progress at all.

…

She looked over towards the mirror, which sat on her dresser where she’d left it. It had been silent for many days, without a single peep of anything magic – semblance! It was a semblance, not magic! – going on.

Weiss was starting to run out of ideas of how to gather more information.

She would’ve honestly taken just… asking the mirror man about it all.

That was difficult, however, on account of the fact that he seemed to once more be trapped as he’d been before.

…Wait.

‘You, girl, the power of your song has restored me to consciousness!’

…It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

She walked over to the mirror, held it up in front of her, and then, somewhat embarrassed, sung the chorus of ‘Mirror, Mirror’, just as she had before.

And lo and behold…

“Aha!” The face of one Jaune D’Arc appeared within the mirror, and he gave a dramatic pose. “I have been reawakened! Freed once more from my–” He turned to see her. “Oh. Tis thou. I had begun to worry that I slept for another hundred thousand years.”

Weiss sighed. “It’s been four days.”

“Ah, very good.”

“What happened, exactly?” She asked him, suspicion likely evident in her gaze. “You just, what, happened to get pulled back into the curse, or something?”

Jaune D’Arc seemed rather embarrassed. “Well… er… there were extenuating factors–”

“Just tell me!”

“Alright, alright.” The man whistled. “Frosty, much?”

Weiss was starting to wonder why she’d wanted to see this man again at all.

“I must first confess something to thee; I intentionally hid myself away so that your slave would not notice me–”

Weiss was reeling for a moment before she was able to make sense of what the Dread King had just said. “Klein is our family’s butler!”

The man hummed dismissively. “Same thing.”

“It is not at all the same thing! He’s paid quite well!”

“Well, of course. Slaves are always paid.” He stared at her. “Do thine people not pay their slaves? My gods, and they called me tyrannical.”

“We do not have slaves!”

“Oh. Well, that seems dreadfully inefficient.”

“I think I hate you.”

“Thy feelings are both noted and entirely ignored. Now, where was I?”

“You hid yourself away?” Weiss deadpanned out, and Jaune made an ‘Ah!’ noise.

“Yes, so, I hid myself away, for if anyone were to figure out about my wondrous self whilst I was still trapped within this mirror… well, er… that would bode poorly for me, so to speak. Thusly, I intended to simply duck away until his departure. Only… it seems…”

“The curse that originally confined you to the mirror took hold of you again the moment you tried to hide away?”

“…Well, your version makes me sound awfully stupid.”

“Jeez,” Weiss rolled her eyes. “I wonder whose fault that is.”

“I don’t think I like your tone! I’ll have you know I was a great and magnanimous king! I was beloved and beloathed the world over! The Dread King, chief amongst the Lords of Light! I am–”

Weiss turned the mirror upside down.

“Ah! Darkness! Girl! I cannot see a thing! Assist me!”

Weiss took a deep, steadying breath as the reality of the situation struck her.

She was too curious about this idiot to throw him away like she constantly threatened to. She wanted to learn more about this magical – Semblanceical! Or… it was just a semblance, alright! – ‘ancient’ king.

Which meant…

Which meant she was stuck with him, wasn’t she?

…Great.

Juuuuust great.

Chapter Text

Jaune D’Arc, true king amongst the Lords of Light, deserved ruler of the Kingdom of D’Arc, and overall greatest man to ever live, was in somewhat of a pickle.

Actually, no, he was not in a pickle. He was in a mirror. In specific, he was trapped within a mirror that had once belonged to his niece, one Salem D’Arc, that was subsequently enchanted by the Brothers of Light and Darkness to hold him until the end of all things.

Which felt like overkill in Jaune’s opinion, but he was a man, not a god, so what did he know?

This was sarcasm, of course; he knew everything. Obviously.

He wasn’t upset about having been shoved into a mirror for a hundred thousand years. Why would he have been upset? No, he was a great and powerful king, who had no need to worry about being stuck in a mirror for potentially the rest of time itself.

It helped both to remind him of and to distance himself from his – totally nonexistent – worry that it felt like it had only been around a week or so since he’d been imprisoned. Only a week or so since he had been overthrown by Salem and Ozma, and then sealed here. He could still remember their final clash, his decision to accept the experimental magics that he’d had his court wizards testing with and evolve into something greater than Ozma or Salem could ever hope to be.

Hah, Ozma and Salem. Those fools. They were assuredly dead, and frankly, good riddance!

/

Inside of a barn on the northern edge of Mistral, Oscar Pine suddenly sneezed.

/

Half the world away, within the creeping halls of Evernight, Salem did much the same.

“Gesundheit.” Watts nodded her way.

/

Thinking of his once great enemies lying within unmarked graves – because of course neither would have earned any acclaim at all to have been buried in a more formal manner – made him feel somewhat better. It helped him not to focus on what might have happened had he never been awoken by the sound of Weiss’ voice, if instead he’d languished away in a trance, trapped within this mirror, until the universe itself went still.

…Ah, yes, Weiss.

It was not the greatest of topic shifts, but frankly, Jaune hated being existential. He hadn’t been trapped within his mirror for all eternity. Thinking about an alternative reality where that happened was pointless.

Yes. Pointless indeed.

Back to Weiss.

Currently, Weiss was sleeping. He could see her from where his mirror was positioned; atop the woman’s dresser. She was laid on one side with her chest slowly rising and falling. It was likely quite early in the morning at this point, perhaps three or four. The sun would not rise for a little while more.

…Jaune was not certain how he felt about Weiss.

Of course, she’d woken him up, and was beautiful in a way that none Jaune had encountered had ever been, but she was also crass, loud, and quick to anger. She seemed spoilt in the same manner that many of the nobles that Jaune had met were, and she did not treat him with the respect that he deserved.

Which, truly, Jaune could not understand. Did she not see his glory, his perfection? Had she somehow missed the aura of absolute rulership he gave off at all times?

Pah. What a foolish girl.

He looked about the room, trying to find something with which to entertain himself. Nothing really came, which… yes, unfortunately, made sense. It was, after all, a young woman’s room in the middle of the night. There wasn’t actually much to do.

Even so, from the look of things, Weiss Schnee must have been the daughter of some kind of duke. During Jaune’s time as king, which had not gone on nearly as long as it should have, he had seen many a place of residence that could not even measure up to this, owned by powerful marquises or other nobles.

There was a level of craftsmanship within the room that had even Jaune D’Arc, who would be the first to admit that he was a rather difficult person to impress, nodding his head.

She was in some way related to Atlas’ nobility. He harbored no doubts about that.

She could claim that Atlas had some form of… democracy – a method of rulership that Jaune had never so much as heard of – but he could tell by her appearance alone that unless everyone else in Atlas lived just as she did, that this world still held the same faults his own had.

He had not been blind to them. He had lived amongst peasants, after all, for well over a year as he slowly convinced them all to help him overthrow his brother.

He had seen children just born dying of disease and malady. He had seen poor families that could barely make ends meet sell their children into slavery for the chance to keep going. He had seen lesser nobles come and abuse all of those things for their own gain, collecting taxes for the mere allowance to live among their land.

Jaune had once wished to do the same as them, but…

Well, never mind that. It had ultimately been his promise that he would end such conditions that had allowed him to inspire the masses behind him, to march to his – his – castle, and overthrow his brother from the throne.

He’d been far kinder than he should’ve, looking back. He’d left Salem alive instead of having her slain. He’d simply locked her away in a tower, and thought that would be enough.

Kindness, as it had always been, was a weakness to be exploited, and nothing more.

And in that case, it had been he who was exploited.

He breathed out harshly, trying to steer his line of thought back to one that would get him anywhere. Thinking on past failures, while important in a more macro sense, did him no good while he was still trapped within this mirror.

The first order of business he would need to attend to before considering such nonsense was freeing himself. The second order of business was placing the world beneath his heel and taking over, ruling as he was always meant to.

It felt like a natural progression of things, in his opinion. Just a solid 2 step plan.

Step two would be easy; barely an inconvenience. People would see him, know him to be kingly material, and instate him at the head of all governments about the world. Then, he would be treated as the true king he’d always been by all of them, and rule over an endlessly prosperous world for all eternity.

The first part was…

Well, slightly more difficult was perhaps a nice way of putting things.

He had, after all, been trapped within this mirror by two Gods – capital G – who had very much not intended on him getting out.

That sort of suggested he wouldn’t be getting out.

But, and Jaune felt this was worth noting, he had never really given much thought to the opinions of his lessers, and the Gods were certainly that.

And him being trapped in a mirror for all eternity was an opinion, as far as he was concerned.

He smirked, then, and chuckled underneath his breath. Yes. He would not allow those pesky Gods to dictate his life. He was going to free himself from this infernal prison, destroy Salem and Ozma – Oh, wait, never mind, they were already dead, score one for him! – and then the Gods themselves!

It was a foolproof plan!

He drew back and let out a great laugh, his wings spreading out from his back, his tail flicking about at his feet.

And then a pillow struck his mirror, and sent him hurtling to the floor some few feet below.

“Shut up!” He heard his icy savior hiss out. “I am trying to sleep!”

Ah, but beauty is so very cold, is it not?

“I know you’re thinking something stupid!”

Jaune coughed into one hand. “Most certainly not. Now free me from this abhorrent darkness!”

/

Weiss felt the fact that she woke up cranky the next morning was more than fair.

She had, after all, been woken up by the idiotic man within her new mirror in the middle of the night, thrown a pillow at him, and then had to get out of bed to pick him back up so that he would stop complaining about being trapped in darkness.

All in all, she was rather cross with Jaune as she set about her morning routine. She was still, and would likely stay for the time being, confined to the mansion, and thusly she hadn’t been able to leave without sneaking out in well over a week now.

Although in all fairness, calling her actions ‘sneaking’ was probably overselling it, given that she wasn’t trying to hide what she was doing from her father even remotely.

Regardless, she hadn’t expected the fact that she was officially confined to the mansion to be getting to her. After all, until the last week or so, she hadn’t actually left her home in well over a month, perhaps two.

But it was the concept of the matter, she felt, that was causing this. The idea that, even if she wanted to leave, which she hadn’t for quite some time, she couldn’t.

That was beginning to result in her going somewhat stir crazy.

It was that which caused her to push her way out of her window, and make her way again to the library.

She was determined to learn as much as she could, after all, about what Jaune was saying. Even if she tried desperately to pretend like she didn’t believe him.

The unfortunate truth of the matter was that she was very much starting to.

Weiss wasn’t really sure how she was supposed to feel about that.

She stayed within the quiet halls of the Atlas Public Library for three or four hours. She simply sat at one of the tables on the fifth floor, and read.

And while she had been hoping that reading would be a welcome distraction from her feelings of claustrophobia, it was in the end a fruitless endeavor. She was too frustrated to really sit still and try and absorb information; everything beginning to overwhelm her, bit by bit.

Weiss ended up leaving only an hour and a half later, having made no real progress towards understanding what it was Jaune even was; how he was still around, and whether or not this was really just some prank with a semblance.

She entered into her room through the window to find everything as she’d left it, except, of course, for Jaune, who half-bowed to her within his mirror and then said, “Ah, you hath returned. Excellent. I was growing rather fitful in your absence, I fear.”

“You were bored?” Weiss asked with a bit more venom than she meant to inject into her words.

“Indeed, I was.” Jaune didn’t pick up on her acerbic tone. “As thou might imagine, existing within a mirror is not the most active of existences. Without someone to speak to, I find myself growing rather frustrated. Not to mention being trapped within this… cage. I admit that I find myself more prone to irritation than I might otherwise be.”

Weiss… yes, she could understand that.

She could more than understand it; she was practically going through the exact same thing.

That… she wasn’t really sure what to think about the fact that, in a manor that contained three members of her immediate family, the one of them she most closely related to was the Dread King from the dawn of time.  

She decided, in fact, not to think of it at all. Perhaps if she ignored the problem altogether, it would go away?

Well, she could hope.

She sighed, ran a hand down the back of her neck, and then walked over towards her dresser. She took up the mirror and held it in her right arm as she made for the door.

“Oh? Art thou walking us somewhere?”

“Yes.” Weiss sighed out. “I’m going to work out my frustrations. I figured that given you’re in a similar situation, I might as well bring you along.”

“Ah, how magnanimous thou art, oh lady of freshly fallen snow!”

“I am going to politely ask you stop calling me that.”

“Ah, but your countenance is so very aptly described by such a verse, is it not?”

She glared down at the mirror held underneath her right arm.

“Oh, alright.” Jaune rolled his eyes. “I will silence my opinions on thy beauty.”

“Thank you.” Weiss sighed out.

And with that, she made for the Schnee Manor’s training area.

One might’ve thought that Weiss wasn’t going very far, given that the training ground was still within the manse itself, but then, the land that the Schnee Family’s Manse sat upon was more than twenty acres across. Traversing it from one end to the other still took a good ten minutes.

It annoyed Weiss somewhat that she could not actually speak to the mirror she was carrying along with her. She’d look exactly like the loon her father was currently claiming her to be if she were caught attempting to talk with an inanimate object, and frankly, the man had enough ammunition already when everyone in the manor knew that he was only making things up.

Best not to give anyone any evidence to the contrary.

Finally, she arrived where she’d intended to. The space was open, with great columns holding the room up. There was a set of windows along the upper sections of the four walls, and against the very back wall of the room, which let in natural light. On the ground level, there were many different doors that opened into storage rooms, and also a plethora of racks that were filled with equipment, ranging from wooden swords, fencing equipment, and weights.

But more than any of that, Weiss eyes simply combed the room, taking it all in.

This was where she’d fought the Arma Gigas; where she’d earned the scar on her left eye.

It was not a pleasant memory, but it was one that had her squaring her shoulders, standing just a bit straighter. She’d won that battle, where her father had expected her to fail. She’d claimed victory, and seized control over her own destiny.

It had been that very battle that earned her the freedom to travel to Beacon; to live her own life.

And that was worth smiling about, despite everything else wrong with the day.

“Ah, a training area?” Jaune’s voice echoed out from the mirror.

She nodded her head, before realizing Jaune couldn’t see that. “Yes. It is.”

“Spacious, and quite a bit more advanced than any of the ones we had at D’Arc Castle.” Jaune commented, sounding distant. “Normally they were located outdoors so as to not track the smell inside the halls, but I suppose your people might not be quite so advanced to worry about such things.” He made a somewhat helpless expression. “Then again, I exist within a mirror. Rather obviously, I cannot smell.”

Weiss glowered. “I will have you know I bathe quite regularly.”

“Hm. I did as well. Many of my peers would bathe only once every six or so months, but I felt anything more than a month between bathing was–”

“A month!?” Weiss rounded on the mirror. “You… your people regularly waited months without bathing!?”

“Well, it was a rather difficult thing to prepare for.” Jaune’s brow furrowed. “Either I would have to retire to a river to disrobe, needing to be flanked by guards so that I was not accosted, or servants would be required to ride down to a river, collect enough water for myself to bathe, and return with it in tow. It was quite an ordeal.”

Weiss… supposed that made sense, actually. Jaune wouldn’t have had the same niceties that Weiss was used to. He wouldn’t have had running water, or electricity, or any of the numerous other things that made bathing so easy in the modern world.

“Well, we have showers.”

She explained the basics of those to Jaune, and the man hummed with interest.

“And you say this water can be any temperature you wish?”

“We alter the heat of it using fire or ice dust.”

“Fascinating, truly.”

Weiss felt she might have laughed at that at any other time; the fact that something she took for granted seemed impossible to the man.

“And… Dust, what is that, exactly?”

That… that had Weiss’ eyes widening. She turned back towards the mirror to see if the man was pulling her leg; expecting him to be, even, but…

No. Jaune was looking at her with genuine intrigue.

“You… you don’t know what Dust is?”

“Should I?” Jaune raised an eyebrow.

“How…” Weiss shook her head, this entire conversation striking her as impossible. “Dust is the lifeblood of Remnant; it is the thing that nearly singlehandedly saved us from extinction itself.”

“Hm. Well, I have never heard of it.”

“…It’s a stone, or… more a mineral, I suppose. It’s found deep underground, mined out of the earth. It… it’s common knowledge that humans have been using dust for as long as anyone can remember.”

“And yet, I do not know of it.” Jaune D’Arc seemed to notice how uncomfortable this line of conversation was making her. “Hm. Troubling indeed.”

“You must have seen it,” Weiss shook her head, unwilling to humor this. “You simply would have called it something else. A moment, please.”

She took up Myrtenaster, and unlatched one of the Dust phials from within one of its revolving chambers. It was Fire Dust that laid within.

“Here,” She showed it off to him. “This is refined dust. It’s been broken down to allow for more convenient use.”

Jaune leaned forward. “Hm…”

“You’ve seen it, then?”

“No.” He spoke once more, and Weiss felt her stomach rolling into knots inside her abdomen at that. “I have not. Perhaps during my time dust was simply undiscovered. Thou sayest it lay deep within the crust of this world, correct? In what realms is it found?”

“Well, it’s most common in Atlas, definitely, but smaller pockets of it are found all throughout the world, uncovered just about everywhere.”

“Hm. Troubling indeed. There existed no shortage of people in my time digging deep within the earth for hidden riches of gold or silver. If what thou sayest is true, they would have certainly discovered this dust as well.”

Weiss hadn’t really come down to the training arena to have a mental crisis. In fact, she’d explicitly come down here to avoid one. But the idea that dust had somehow not existed on Remnant during Jaune’s time, the idea that perhaps something had happened that–

No! She forced herself to discard those thoughts. This is a waste of time!

She wasn’t going to think about this any longer. This… it was all just a prank, or… or a semblance, or…

There was no way she was actually talking to some crazy king from a hundred thousand years ago! There was no way that dust had suddenly just… appeared on Remnant one day! There was no way that there had ever been two figures named Salem and Ozma who had overthrown Jaune, and gotten help from the Brother Gods to cast him away inside a mirror!

It was… it was simply preposterous!

Yes. That was the truth of the matter. Thinking any further on it was only going to serve to frustrate Weiss more than she already was.

So, instead, she put the dust vial back inside of Myrtenaster, and primed her weapon. She would stick with basic stances for the time being, working on her form. Then, later, she could utilize one of the training bots that her father had purchased from the Atlas Military some few years ago.

They were heavily outdated; unable to even measure up against Atlas’ newer, fully mobile humanoid machines. And Penny would have…

Her heart lurched inside of her chest. She… she hadn’t thought about Penny in a long time. It had to have been months since she’d last even considered the girl.

She could still remember seeing her bisected by her own wires, the machinery within her laid out on display.

No. She was trying to calm down.

This was, again, not helping.

She drew up Myrtenaster, and went through some simple sword forms. After that, she moved on to striking the Atlesian mechs – not hard enough to break them, of course, although with their age that was easier said than done.

It didn’t help that she was still quite frustrated. More than she would have liked to admit. Everything about her father, and her lack of sleep, and her being disinherited, and this new information, and the thought that maybe, just maybe, it was all real, it…

It was just… a lot.

She was growling under her breath by the time she’d finished her routine; sweat running down her brow, which she idly reached up to wipe away. She expected Jaune to watch silently, and yet, as she went through a few of the more complicated maneuvers, he responded by clapping his hands together, and nodding his head.

“You are surprisingly adept with your blade.”

Weiss wasn’t expecting the compliment, even with the hint of sarcasm. It caught her off guard. “…Thank you. I have had the very best to teach me what I know.”

Jaune nodded his head. “I suppose thou would, given thou art ostensibly a noble. Thou were likely able to call for the land’s greatest knights to assist in thine upbringing as a warrior.”

Although the language was olden, the general sentiment was one that Weiss agreed with.

Jaune barked out a laugh, then, but it was a sudden thing, and seemed tinged with some complicated feelings.

“In my time, it was considered foolish for a woman to ever attempt to raise a weapon.”

Weiss’ eyes widened, but if Jaune was about to hit her with some misogyny, then she wasn’t just going to sit there and take it.

“There are some people like that even today.” She swept some of her hair back behind her head. “But they’re routinely mocked for their idiotic beliefs.”

“Hah. Good.” She was honestly surprised to hear that from the man, and said as much. “Ah, well, I must confess to the fact that I once thought the same as them. It was difficult to not grow to think that way when surrounded by others who thought the same during my entire childhood; those who treated women like lesser beings and gave them no opportunities to disprove their claims. And yet, when I was banished to the countryside, I saw men and women alike doing the same tasks, working side by side. Men and women alike hauling grain, or raising cattle, and dividing duties so as to work alongside one another. It made me realize how foolish a concept such a consideration was. Many of the other nobles about my circle, once I claimed my birthright, seemed to think women incapable of anything at all. How idiotic they were. Many of the finest knights, mages, and assassi– er… warriors of the D’Arc Kingdom were women during my reign.”

She… wasn’t really sure how she was meant to feel about that.

“But regardless of such frivolities, as I said, thou art skilled. I will admit I had not expected as such from someone seemingly so spoilt.”

Weiss bit back on the insult that threatened to come pouring out of her. It was, after all, not the first time she’d heard such a sentiment, and even if it was obviously coming from someone who was in the exact same boat as her, well…

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time.

Instead, she focused, stabbed her sword into the ground, and did her best to summon forth an old enemy.

A moment later, the Arma Gigas, the very first Grimm she’d ever slain, arose from out of her rapidly spinning glyph.

It bowed to her, and she bowed back. It was a meaningless little flare, given that Weiss controlled the beast, but it was one she utilized all the same.

“Ah, you have an enslaved Grimm?”

Weiss debated correcting him on that, but… she just didn’t have the energy. “Yes.”

“I see. I see. Well, then, if you’re going to face off against it, do not tarry on my account. They make for excellent target practice, if little else.”

Weiss sensed something wrong with that statement, but did her best to ignore it as she ostensibly set her summoned Grimm free – which was to say she gave it orders to attack her how it saw fit. After that, she surged forward, and allowed her higher thoughts to fade away in the heat of combat.

Unfortunately, that heat lasted all of thirty seconds before Weiss had defeated her summon. The unfortunate truth of the matter was that her created Grimm were nowhere near their real Grimm counterparts in terms of toughness. They could hit hard, but all it took was an errant blow to send them back from whence they came.

And so, even after having sparred against it, Weiss was still softly broiling.

“I must say, the Grimm of this day and age are even weaker than they were during my time.” Jaune D’Arc laughed from inside his mirror. “I suppose that makes sense. Without the God of Darkness around they don’t exactly have a master to turn to for orders, or to make them stronger.”

Weiss’ brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Ah, I was referring to the creatures of Grimm.”

“I know that. I meant… what do you mean that… the God of Darkness, he used to control the Grimm?”

“He did indeed. He was their progenitor and their master. They only truly existed in and around the realms of darkness, and even then, they mostly kept to orbiting their God’s domain itself.”

Weiss was thrown for yet another loop. She was really getting tired of that. The world had already seemed so very complicated a week or so ago, before she’d gotten gifted Jaune’s mirror, and now…

Now it only seemed a thousand times more so.

“The Grimm are not weak.” She decided to say, shaking her head as she sat down on the same bench that she’d propped Jaune’s mirror upon. “They are the foremost threat to all of humanity; the monsters that keep us from truly evolving as a species. It is because of them that my career, that of a Huntress, even exists.”

Weiss tried not to let the fury get to her as Jaune guffawed; as if the very concept of the Grimm being humanity’s natural enemy was ridiculous.

“The Grimm? Surely, thou art not serious? The Grimm are barely a threat at all, even when one does enter into their territory. They can be defeated with long ranged magic before they so much as notice one normally, and even if they get close, all it takes is a few swings to bring them down. Are the people of thy time truly so pathetic as to not be able to handle them?”

Weiss tried to keep herself under control. She really did. But maybe it was the talks of how the Grimm were nothing, of how they weren’t capable of doing anything at all, when Weiss had seen them utterly decimate the population of Vale, bring Beacon to its knees, only a few months ago, but…

It had Weiss’ jaw tightening; her teeth grinding together. It had her snarling as she rounded on the man in the mirror, and yelled, “Shut up!”

Jaune D’Arc’s expression was one of abject surprise, then, but before he could say anything – and it was clear he wanted to – Weiss kept going.

“You talk an awful lot of crap for someone who knows nothing of our world! For someone who got themselves locked away in a damned mirror!”

Jaune visibly bristled. “I’ll beg thy pardon; I was ganged up upon by two Gods! What is the excuse of humanity? That they find themselves struggling with an enemy as pitiful as the Grimm–”

“Is that all you can say!? Put downs!?” Weiss snarled. “That’s all you seem capable of; making other people feel like shit, huh!?”

“I would have no reason to if humanity was capable of facing an enemy such as the Grimm!”

“You–” Weiss hissed out underneath her breath. “No. There’s no point arguing with someone as stuck up as you, is there? I can see now why the Gods sealed you away instead of bothering to deal with you; I’d have done the exact same in their place.”

Jaune’s eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open. Weiss felt an ugliness inside of her chest, though whether or not that was guilt for her own comments, or lividity at the man who had caused them, she was uncertain.

“Thou… fine, then.” Jaune D’Arc spat out under his breath, standing up a little straighter from what little she could see in the mirror. “Very well. It is clear that thou art too dull to understand my genius. I’ve no need to continue aiding and abetting someone who clearly wants no help at all.”

“Aiding and– the only thing you’ve done is prattle on about how the world was so much better when you were king! How all of our problems are stupid, and idiotic, when I’m damned sure the problems of your era were far worse!”

“Pah.” Jaune spat. “I’ve nothing more to say to thee. I see now that attempting to converse with one such as thee were foolhardy. Perhaps the next person to find my mirror will be capable of intellectual thought.”

“What, just going to run away!?”

And then, Jaune D’Arc disappeared from the mirror entirely, fading back into the prison he’d been locked within.

And Weiss was left standing there, still hot, with Myrtenaster gripped so hard in her right hand that she could see her knuckles turning white.

“Fine!” She shouted, even knowing the man couldn’t hear her any longer. “Go! Lock yourself away for another hundred thousand years, see if I care! See if anyone else bothers to help you out of there!”

Weiss snarled, walked over to the mirror, and took it up. She stomped her way over to a storage closet, which contained many different weights and exercising paraphernalia, and practically threw the mirror in along with them.

“Have fun in there,” Weiss hissed. “I hope you enjoy it.”

And then she slammed the door behind her.

Chapter Text

Weiss was still running hot later that evening, sitting alone in her room. The argument with Jaune was one thing, but to say that she was tired of the Schnee Manor, that she was tired of her tyrannical father and her sycophant brother who was fast becoming him…

Well, it was an understatement, to put things lightly.

She ran a hand down her face, before taking a breath. She exhaled over the course of three or so seconds, but it barely helped at all with her mood.

She was on her last legs here at the manor.

She decided to go for a walk around the perimeter, lacking anything else to do, and made her way out to wander the halls. She wasn’t doing so with any real meaning or intent, just moving for moving’s sake. As she walked, she briefly passed her mother’s room.

She hadn’t seen her at all – outside of a few second or so long intervals – since being forced back to the manse from Beacon.

She didn’t plan on seeing her now, however. Her mother was yet another negative figure in her life; an alcoholic mess of a person. Weiss wasn’t in the mood to deal with her.

She passed by, and kept going. She passed the kitchens, and then the main foyer. She continued into the other half of the manor, and then doubled back around when she’d reached the end of that.

She just wanted to move her legs. She wanted to go and accomplish something. She…

She wanted to be out there with the rest of her team, trying to piece together what had happened at Beacon. She wanted to help with Yang’s recovery. She wanted to try and get Blake back. She wanted to be there for her leader, to be Ruby’s second in command.

She paced the halls for an hour or so. Silence reigned around her, the empty expanses of the Schnee Manor causing her footfalls to haunt the halls.

Weiss was only growing more and more aggravated; enough so that she was growing closer to making an admittedly dumb decision.

And then she was, rather suddenly, pushed over the edge.

“Ah, Weiss.” Her father’s voice echoed out through the hall, and she turned back to see him with his hands folded behind his back, walking towards her. “So, this is where you were. I had someone come by your room earlier, but you were absent.”

Weiss bit down on the immediate retorts that threatened to spill out of her. There were… well, many. She loved her father in a very complicated way, but she also despised him. Those two things were, it seemed, not mutually exclusive.

But in that moment, all she wanted to say was, ‘You couldn’t check up on me by yourself? You sent someone else?’

She knew why, of course. Her father was a man who spared time for no one. That he wanted to speak with her at all meant that he had something important to tell her.

Likely, he was going to annoy her further, because that seemed to be his greatest joy in life.

“I felt you should be informed that the campaign to cover up your little mess at the gala the other night has gone well. People are rallying to your side; a victim of Beacon Academies fall. They are also taking your disinheritance, to better focus on your recovery, and Whitley’s stepping into the position as a sign of him being a good and supportive brother.”

Weiss wondered what it was her father wanted her to say? Did he want her to scream and rage at him, to attack him in the middle of the room? Did he want her to smile, and bow, and tell him that she was happy everything was working out for him?

Did he want her to simply stand there, silently burning like a star, as his words washed over her?

It felt like the most likely course of action. That he simply wished to bother her.

“And?” She hissed out through gritted teeth. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me father, or is that all?”

“Hmph. You would do well to watch your tone, Weiss. I have thus far allowed your little forays out to the library, but I can, at any time, have the windows in your room barred. Do not mistake my inaction for obliviousness.”

“So, what, you’re just going to keep me in here until this entire thing blows over?”

“That was indeed my intention.” Her father spoke evenly, without a single hint of malice leaking into his voice. He had always been so overwhelmingly capable of maintaining his cool.

It aggravated Weiss to no end.

“As long as you continue to sneak out in disguise, and do not attempt to overstep your bounds, I am content to allow you to make such trips. But if you are discovered, I will be forced to pretend I had no idea at all about, and take action. Do you understand?”

Weiss forced herself to breath. Exploding on her father wasn’t going to make her life any better. In all honesty, it would likely make it much worse.

But even so, if he was truly intent on limiting her to the mansion, only allowing her to leave in disguise, where she’d have to maintain a low profile, and not so much as speak to anyone, for even longer than she already had…

Weiss had had enough.

She couldn’t stay here.

“I understand, father.” She did her best to act the daughter he wanted in that moment. Fully subservient, fully agreeable, nothing more than a puppet to be strung along.

“Good. See to it that you do betray my kindness in this matter, Weiss.”

And with that, her father turned around, and walked away.

Curt as always. He didn’t so much as look back at her, instead disappearing down an adjacent hallway, likely back to his office. It wasn’t like Weiss was informed as to what was going on around the SDC lately. Perhaps he had another socialite dinner to attend?

The thought made Weiss angrier than she already was, and she forced herself to swallow down on that feeling, and ignore it as best she could.

It didn’t matter, after all.

She was going to be leaving this place as soon as she possibly could.

/

Weiss could not pack in an obvious manner, of course. She had half a mind to think her room was likely bugged with a camera so that her father could watch her every action, but that was probably a bit much, even for him.

Still, she made her preparations. Myrtenaster was returned to its case, and placed atop her dresser. Several vials of dust, enough to have some of each in a pinch, went along with it. She packed three or four outfits, not enough to make a noticeable dent in her wardrobe that a maid or cleaner might pick up on their absence, but enough to serve her until she could purchase others.

Although, in fairness, her father might very well cut her off entirely for leaving Atlas.

…Well, that was a bridge she would just have to cross when she came to it.

It was only as she was doing the last little bits of her packing, and thinking about how best to contract a bullhead pilot, however, that she thought of Jaune.

She shouldn’t have bothered, in all honesty. They’d both said what they had to say, and Jaune had chosen to lock himself away inside his mirror instead of talking to her. She was content to leave things there.

…Wasn’t she?

There was this feeling in the back of Weiss’ head, one she wasn’t very happy with, that seemed to call out to the rest of her. It claimed that whether or not she wanted to admit it, Weiss would want a companion on the journey she was planning on going on.

And was it wrong?

…No. It likely wasn’t.

She sighed, realizing that she would much rather have ahold of the… odd artifact – she was still not calling it magic, she refused flat out – than leave it here for someone like her father to discover it.

He would be the exact type of person to abuse the knowledge the mirror might be able to give him.

Or, well, that was one of the reasons Weiss was telling herself for why she was making her way across the manor, back to the training hall, and to that very storage closet from just a few days ago.

She sighed as she found it. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like any other mirror. She turned it around in her hands, and for perhaps the thirtieth time, tried to see if there was some odd trick to it. There were no panels that opened, no seams on its design that looked like they might come apart.

It looked, as Jaune kept claiming, like it was just a normal mirror, one that was somehow… magic.

Weiss cringed. She just… she could worry about the logistics of the mirror later.

For now…

She sung the first line of the chorus of Mirror, Mirror, and suddenly, the mirror burst to life.

“Who dares awaken me, king of–” Jaune saw it was her. “Oh. Tis thou.”

“Tis me.” Weiss answered, already wondering if this was a stupid decision.

“What dost thou want?” He sniped, and Weiss realized somewhat belatedly that for him, it had been approximately five seconds since their argument had finished. She’d been over it for a few days now.

“I came to take you with me.”

“Hm?”

“I’m leaving the Schnee manor. I’m going to go track down my team.”

Jaune shook his head. “Thou… art leaving thy life of luxury to tough it out in the wilderness?”

“I am.”

“Art thou an idiot?”

Weiss bristled. “I am not an idiot. I am practically trapped in this manor; a doll for my father to show off when he needs me, and then I’m just supposed to stay a silent, good little girl when he doesn’t. He pulled me away from my team when the world was falling down around us, and forced me to leave them behind to deal with the fallout all on their own. I’m not going to allow that. I refuse.”

“So, thou mean to find thine allies, then? Those who would stand stalwart beside thee?”

“I do.”

“Hm.” Jaune was, clearly, cooling down. His voice took on a more even tone. “I see. And thou sought to invite me along because…?”

“Because I figured you’d rather go somewhere then sit in that mirror, potentially, forever.”

Jaune grunts out under his breath. “I… suppose that thou art correct on that particular matter. I would very much indeed rather be awake, even with someone like thee, than asleep in my mirror.”

Weiss chose to ignore the pointed jab. She had her own faults, and she gave as good as she got. If this was to be their relationship, one of traded insults, then she could live with such.

At least she would have someone to trade insults with.

She took up the mirror, and held it against her side, preparing to make the journey back to her room. Before she could, however, Jaune had called out to her.

“Hold a moment.”

She held the mirror out in front of her so that she could see the man directly, and when she did, she saw him…

Looking almost bashful.

“Thou hath my sincerest apologies. The way that I addressed thee was no way to speak to a fair lady such as yourself.”

Weiss leveled a glare at him. “Was it how you would address a man?”

“Well, that’s… I suppose?”

“Then treat me no differently.” Weiss said to him. “I don’t want to be coddled by you, thinking I’m some demure maiden who can’t handle herself. I’ve slain monsters thrice my size.”

“Even so, it is the principle of the matter.” Jaune shook his head. “I allowed mine own anger over being locked within this mirror to overwhelm me, and my fear of never escaping to affect my sense of judgment and reasoning. Even if thine kind has regressed rather harshly from how I remember them,” Weiss expression fell somewhat, but she allowed him to continue without interruption, “that dost not mean I had to go out and say it to raise myself up. I am, myself, a king. More is expected of me. I am held to a higher standard, and that I allowed such to slip, even for a moment, is an insult to my station.”

With that, the man bowed his head a fraction of a degree forward. “I shan’t fail as such again; thou hath my word.”

Weiss really doubted that, given that the man had just said her kind had regressed not even five seconds ago, but she had a feeling that he was, in his own, really stupid way, trying to be better.

He and Weiss weren’t exactly friends, but…

“I will take you at your word, then.” Weiss answered, and the man nodded his head. “Now, I’ve packing to finish before the two of us can depart. After that, I’ll need to find someone willing to take me out of Mistral.”

“Ah, I see. And will thou be travelling on horseback, or by carriage?”

Weiss was about to make a snide remark, but…

Well, Jaune had put in some – very small, but some – effort into not being an asshole. Perhaps she could meet that with sincerity.

“We have new methods of transportation in this day and age. I don’t believe anyone these days ride on horseback, or utilize them to pull their carts, outside of very small frontier settlements, or farms.”

“Truly?” Jaune seemed thrilled. “I must say, that tis great news. Horses have never much liked me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that they bite at my hair, attempt to kick me in the stomach and groin, and just in general dislike me in every way, shape, or form.”

“Hm.” Weiss let out. “Well, I myself have ridden horses for sport and recreation, but Atlas, the city we currently reside within, floats a good kilometer or two in the air above Remnant’s surface below us.”

“Ah, I see.” Jaune said, in a voice that very much communicated the opposite. “…What?”

Weiss sighed.

She… had an awful lot to explain, didn’t she?

/

“So, Atlas thought the greatest usage of what thou readily admit is a scarce resource in dust was to float their city above Mantle… for seemingly no reason?”

When he said it like that, it did sound a bit weird to Weiss that Atlas would constantly be hemorrhaging gravity dust at all times. It… made her think that there must’ve been something else going on behind the scenes; something about the whole thing she wasn’t privy to, that made such more palatable.

“And thou say Beacon, and Vale by proxy, were all but destroyed?”

“I’ve heard Vale is doing… not good, but better than they were when I left,” Weiss spoke as she found the final few items she’d be bringing, and began sorting them into piles. “When I was pulled away, there were bodies in the streets, Grimm roaming free, Atlas knights that still hadn’t been deactivated… it was utter chaos.”

“It certainly sounds it.” Jaune murmured, humming. “Thine era sounds far more complicated than mine own. Thou say that a single woman, alongside an extremist group, was able to do that much?”

“They obviously had help. Atlas is Vale’s ally, and General Ironwood himself was down there fighting against his own mechs. Something happened to their programming. Something Atlas didn’t know how to counteract.”

“Okay. And… programming, thou say… what is that, exactly?”

“Too complicated to explain in a reasonable time frame.” Weiss stated, and the man just grunted in acknowledgement. “We’ll have time on the flight. I’ll fill you in on these more complicated topics then.”

Jaune nodded his head. “Art the other Kingdoms doing nothing to assist Vale?”

“Well, their methods of communication were largely cut off with the CCT’s fall… don’t ask about that,” She cuts off Jaune before he can open his mouth. “Again, later. For now, basically, they’re isolated, and the rest of the world can’t get details without physically sending people into Vale, which is a worrying prospect for any of them, especially when they don’t know where else these figures intend to strike.”

“Well. It sounds to me that these allies of Vale are only allies of opportunity.” Jaune scoffed. “If anything, the Grimm have brought humanity together, but only in the same way that a herd of zebra will band together. Go after any individual manner of the herd, however, and the others will scatter, having never had any intention of protecting the others, and only being a part of that herd to make it less likely that they themselves would be attacked.”

Weiss hummed, before asking, “What’s a zebra?”

“Oh, dost humanity not have those anymore?”

“I don’t think.”

“Ah. They were horses, but worse in every way. Less loyal, less amicable, less social, but more prone to biting, kicking, fights among herd members… they truly are just the absolute worst. Oh, and they are – ah, were – striped.”

“That seems like a random detail.”

“‘Twas actually very memorable.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Weiss stated, even as she checked over everything one last time, and then, having finished packing officially, declared, “Alright. I’m good to go.”

“Excellent.” Jaune nodded his head, “And where will thou be putting me?”

Weiss opened up her travel bag, where, sure enough, there was a space about the size of Jaune’s mirror open and available.

Jaune stared at her.

“…”

“You don’t want to go in the dark bag, do you?”

“…Well, when thy say it, it makes me sound like a newborn babe.”

Weiss groaned.

/

“Klein, I…”

“There’s no need to thank me, my lady.” Klein winked at her as he finished filling the pilot in. “What kind of butler would I be if I could not meet my ladies’ requests to the letter, hm?”

Weiss nearly teared up then and there, wiping at her eyes, even as she charged forward, and wrapped her arms around the man who’d always been there for her.

“Thank you, Klein.”

“You’re so very welcome, my lady.”

She pulled away, cleared her throat, and boarded into the back of the passenger bullhead that would be taking her to Mistral. It was to be a long journey, and Weiss was planning to sleep a good majority of it.

“Be careful with father. I… he’ll be very cross with you.”

“Bah, don’t you worry about that.” Klein’s eyes shifted color. “You just focus on yourself, alright?”

“Okay, Klein.” She smiled, and then, giving him one last fond look, she closed the door to the bullhead behind her.

The pilot gave her some final information, before saying they were all set, and closing the door to the cockpit.

And then she was left alone, within the back of the hull, as the engine began to rumble, and they began to rise higher. Suddenly, they were above the Schnee Manor, and then above Atlas, and then they were above the very clouds.

There was, also, notably, a horrid groaning coming from behind her.

She looked back to see Jaune bent over in his mirror, hands clutching his stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know not,” The man muttered, before moaning in pain yet again. “I am… feeling not very good, I must say.”

“You’re not… getting airsick, are you?”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“It’s when your inner ear sends conflicting messages to your brain than your eyes. So, your ear believes you’re moving, but your eyes can’t see that movement. That confusion causes your stomach to–”

“Ugh, stop talking,” Jaune suddenly said, sounding quite tense. “I do not believe I can vomit in here, but if I do, and I am trapped with my own vomit for all eternity, then the Gods are going to sorely wish they had killed me when they had the chance.”

Weiss snorted. She thought it had been quiet, but the man had evidently heard her, for he glared up at her, even as she sat down in one of the chairs, and brought Jaune up to the seats as well. She couldn’t exactly buckle him in, but she could prop him up on a few cushions from the other seats, and give him a good enough vantage point to see out the window.

“My…” He was suddenly quiet. “But that is a marvelous view.”

Weiss looked out as well, and for once, she let other thoughts fade away, and allowed herself to focus purely on what she saw.

It was gorgeous. The night sky, only an hour after sunset. The moon was just barely cresting above the tops of the clouds, and causing a white shimmer to glow along the top of all of them. It marked their billowing expanses, and showed where they dipped, and bulged.

“I remember when it was first reported that clouds were made of water.”

Weiss looked down, and saw Jaune looking oddly happy about something. Weiss was content to simply listen to what he had to say, to hear what he wished to tell her.

“I was a young boy; no older than four or five. My father, the previous king, had just received the news from a kingdom neighboring our own. It had come to us from one of the other lords of light. Their name is not important, but this discovery was… up until that point, we had simply believed the clouds in the sky to be decorations placed there by the gods; little more than… paint upon a canvas. The same way that the sky was blue, or in the evenings, black. The same way that dots of white and yellow, and great bands of dark, billowing clouds would appear in the night sky.”

“But when we received that notice, it was like… for the first time, so many of my father’s scientists began to ask other questions. They began to wonder if the dots in the sky, too, were something else, and not just smatterings of paint. If the night clouds were water, too, or something other.”

Weiss decided to ask, “What did they discover?”

“Ah, but…” Jaune’s smile dimmed somewhat. “My father was always less focused on those types of things. I hung around the scientists and the alchemists – the thinking men – most of my days. My older brother and my father both were fighters; such was tradition back in the day. The first son would be king, and so had to be raised to know how to ride on horseback, how to shoot a bow, how to wield a blade… I was never interested in any of it, even if I was taught most of it.”

“No… the night sky called out to me. I looked up at it, and I asked myself why. Why any of it? Why were there clouds in the sky that only appeared at night, seemingly further away than the daylight clouds. Why were some of the dots in front of the night clouds, but others behind them. Why were some of the dots brighter, and some so very dim? I asked myself these sorts of questions.”

Weiss… it was odd, in that moment, the way she fell into Jaune’s story. She found herself genuinely interested.

“But I was told that one day I would be king. And so, I knew what I had to do, regardless of what I wanted. Gradually, I began to move away from the scientists, and matters of science, that had fascinated me in my youth. I took up the sword, though I was never terribly proficient. I learned to orate; and that I was quite good at, arguably only surpassed by my brother’s prodigious talent to capture a crowd, to sway them to his side. I learned all sorts of things. Yet I cared for none of them.”

“I never did learn anything about the night sky. Supposedly other scientists in other lands discovered secrets, but by that time, the lords of light were no longer so tightly knit.”

“Had they turned on one another?”

“People always do.” Jaune spoke, and he sounded jaded; almost tired. “Eventually, people will long for that which they do not have. No matter who they are. Even the richest of men will seek to grow richer, despite having no true reason to. Humans are foolish creatures.” He chuckled. “I am but one example of that. I never even truly desired the throne, and yet I rose up an army to take it back. I don’t even know why I did such anymore. I suppose waking up in a world completely different to the one I used to live in has done that; caused me to question my own actions.”

He was silent for a time after that. Eventually, he continued.

“The Lords of Light did not turn on one another, but… they ceased to communicate. The fault belonged to no lord in particular. The gods themselves were becoming more and more closed off, less and less open with their designs and ideas. I’m not certain what happened after I was banished away. Perhaps they were corrected, and stood down. Or perhaps they attempted to overstep their bounds, and were punished in the same way I was. They are all long dead. Everyone from that time is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah, do not be.” Jaune sighed out, and it seemed his airsickness had left him. Weiss imagined that was down to being able to look out the window. “Thou had no hand in it. And I was never one to think things like this before. Hah. Perhaps my punishment truly has served to make me reflect.”

Weiss had a question, one she’d not asked so far, but one she couldn’t resist. “Why do you look like that?”

“Hm?”

“Well, you’re a normal human, are you not?” Weiss asked, and Jaune nodded. “Then why do you have horns, a tail, slitted pupils…”

“Ah, I understand. This form, thou mean? Well, the circumstances behind its creation involve things I’d rather not delve into. Let us simply say that I utilized a dark form of magic in my final battle against Salem and Ozma to attempt to give myself the edge, and to defeat them. It… corrupted my body, and my appearance.”

“Did it help?”

“No.” He laughed, as if almost amused. “I lost; terribly, even. I wasn’t even close to defeating them. The only reason I am here today was that the magics within me defied what should have led to my death. It was that immortality that caused the gods to rise up against me, and lock me away.”

Weiss’ eyes were wide. “You’re… immortal?”

“I am.” Jaune spoke, and Weiss couldn’t quite fathom that. “I haven’t changed at all in a hundred thousand years, have I?”

“Well, you were sealed away.”

“I suppose you could look at it that way.” Jaune conceded that Weiss’ point could have very well been the truth as well. “But regardless… inside of me is still my own soul. If you’d like, I can show you how I used to look; making illusions is not terribly difficult magic.”

Weiss could not pretend to not be intrigued. She nodded her head, and a moment later, the image in the mirror began to shift.

It was sort of like looking at one of those pictures that changed if you looked at it from a different angle. What was there before was still there, if she paid enough attention, but it was buried beneath another image.

An image of Jaune as a normal human man. He looked…

Well, he actually looked rather handsome, but Weiss would not have been caught dead saying that.

He was not particularly athletic – Weiss would’ve called him scraggly – and his frame looked somewhat off without the wings to balance it.  He couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five, perhaps even younger. But even so…

He had soulful eyes, an oceanic blue in color. His blonde hair had more color now, appearing far closer to a gold than anything else. And…

When he smiled, he looked… kind.

“Well?”

Weiss looked away, not willing to show the blush on her features. “You look adequate, I suppose.”

“Why, I thank thee, Weiss. Thou look quite adequate yourself.”

Weiss couldn’t really complain about that.

“But,” He allowed the illusion to slip, and suddenly stood in the mirror once more was the demonic Jaune, with wings and horns and slit eyes with dark sclera. “I’d rather not expend magic to keep up that form if I can help it. And I really would like to know more about the other things thou hast spoken of. Programming and other such matters.”

Weiss understood that Jaune was less than subtly saying he was done talking about himself for now. Honestly, Weiss was surprised she’d learned so much about him already.

“First, however, I had been meaning to ask; to where exactly is our heading?”

It took Weiss a moment to extract the question out of the old timey language. “Mistral. Specifically, Haven Academy.”

“One of the other Kingdoms? Do you think that wise with the world as it is?”

“I don’t see anything particularly wrong with it. We’ll want to start out search from somewhere, and if I know Ruby, she’ll likely want to go chasing after the last piece of information we had, which was that the people who hit Beacon came from Haven.”

“And do you think going to such a place on your lonesome is a good idea?”

“Relax.” Weiss rolled her eyes. “Nothing’s going to go wrong.”

/

Weiss Schnee was sat down in the center of a cage, surrounded on all sides by brigands, bastards, and bandits. Standing in front of her was one Raven Branwen, looking down at her, unimpressed, as she crossed her arms in front of her breasts.

“So… a Schnee, huh?”

From behind her, quietly enough that only she could hear, Jaune muttered, “Nothing’s going to go wrong, hm?”

Weiss hissed out under her breath. “Oh, shut up…”

Chapter Text

Weiss didn’t want to say this was her fault, because frankly, it wasn’t her fault.

How could she have known that the route they’d decided to take towards Mistral was being patrolled by Lancers, including a queen!? How was she supposed to know the first people to come and find their downed vessel would be bandits!?

How was she supposed to know that one of them would be named Raven Branwen, which, knowing Ruby’s uncle’s last name, and seeing the resemblance this Raven woman had to Yang…

Yeah, this had all gotten very complicated very quickly.

“I don’t like this.” Jaune spoke out underneath his breath, and Weiss couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not a fan myself, either.”

“Tis not what I meant.” He corrected her. “Tis not the situation at large that troubles me, although I do confess that I hath been in more pleasant situations. There is… an odd feeling about the air. I can sense magic.”

Weiss’ brow drew down. “There shouldn’t even be such things as magic in the world anymore.”

“Troubling, because I know what it is that I feel.”

Weiss didn’t expressly doubt Jaune, given that for him, it had been a week or two since he’d lived within an era of magic, and he likely did know the feeling quite well. It was just hard to believe that they’d somehow stumbled upon magic in a bandit camp.

“Stay alert.” Jaune spoke, shaking his head within the mirror. “I know not who possesses it. I will say that in terms of overall strength, it is quite weak.”

“Well, that’s good?”

“Indeed. Although tis more… I feel I recognize the magic itself. The very person from whom it originated.”

“Well, that’s… bad?”

“I know not. I cannot get a good enough grasp of it to truly parse out an identity”

“Very helpful.”

“Ah, my apologies; I must have missed the part where thou were providing anything of use to get the both of us out of this situation.”

Weiss coughed, but had no real retort.

“I must say, however, there is something entirely more troubling to me in this moment,” Jaune cleared his throat, pointed at the sky, and then hissed out, “What in the dire pits of hell happened to the moon!?”

Weiss’ eyes widened. “What… do you mean?”

“It is in pieces! It looks as if something struck it with an intense, horrible blast of energy!”

“Was… it not shattered in your time?”

“No! Of course it wasn’t!” Jaune ran his hands through his hair. “Thou truly did not think to alert me to the fact that the moon had been broken in half!?”

“Well… it’s always been like that.”

“It very much has not! In my time, ‘twas a full moon that hung in the sky!”

“Huh.”

“Don’t just say ‘huh’, as if the moon lying broken in the heavens is of no great concern!”

“Well what else do you want me to say!?”

Jaune paused a moment. “…Now that I think on the matter, I cannot actually come up with anything that I feel would be appropriate.”

Weiss grunted. “Well, you’re honest at least.”

“Hey, shut up in there!” One of the bandits, a tattooed woman who looked to be about Weiss’ age yelled back at her. “You goin’ fuckin’ crazy already!? It’s been like five hours, girl, chill the fuck out!”

Weiss grumbled under her breath, but didn’t respond, and instead realized that if she wished to not be seen as a nutcase talking to a mirror – a rather expensive looking mirror that a bandit tribe may want to sell for a sizeable sum of profit – then she should be a bit quieter.

“So… the moon used to be… what, a circle?”

“A spheroid,” Jaune corrected, as if that wasn’t what she meant. “And yes, it was a counterpart to the sun in the sky. It was worshipped in much the same way as the sun. In my time, it was seen as the God of Darknesses’ answer to the God of Light’s sun. The story went that the God of Darkness grew jealous of his brother’s monolithic glow during the daytime, and so, during the night, he sought to create a monolith of purest black, one which would blot out the lights in the night sky. The God of Light, ever fickle, and unwilling to allow his brother to achieve a victory over him, shone the sun’s rays upon the moon, bathing our world in his light even during his brother’s darkness.”

Weiss… she was surprised at the account. It was written in such a different manner from the modern depictions of the Brothers, who were generally seen as benevolent figures who’d created, and then subsequently guided and shepherded humanity in their earliest days on Remnant.

“That… was it true?”

“I’ve no idea.” Jaune chuckled, and Weiss glared at him. “How should I know? I hath been missing one hundred thousand years, and the Gods are gone. They took their answers with them.”

Weiss nodded her head somewhat absently.

“Tell me; dost thou have a plan to escape this?”

Weiss considered that a moment. “Aside from summoning a giant Grimm and hoping that the bandits around here can’t take it out before we can make our getaway? …No.”

“Hm. Perhaps subtlety would suit our purposes more in this case.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thy summoning; tis not magic, and yet it carries some of the same properties as a spell I once knew. Summoning magic was powerful, but more than anything, it was versatile. It could be used in a variety of situations to fill a variety of niches. And one of the most important aspects of that was learning to control the size of the summoned Grimm.”

Weiss’ eyes widened. That… she hadn’t even thought of that. Yet, it seemed somehow obvious when Jaune pointed it out.

“Try it. Thou hath all the time in the world to learn control.” Jaune spoke to her, oddly steady. “Attempt to summon thy smallest Grimm as miniscule as thou can make it.”

“Someone will see!”

“Not if thou hide it behind the tents just in front of us.” Jaune gestured towards the tents before them, where, sure enough, one was positioned in such a way that it blocked the tattooed bandit on watch from seeing what was going. “So?”

“…I hate that this is a good idea.”

Jaune smirked.

Weiss didn’t have Myrtenaster, but then, stabbing her blade into the ground to summon a Grimm wasn’t expressly necessary.

She did admittedly do some things just for the flare of it.

So, Weiss focused her energy on the point just behind the tent, and attempted to summon a juvenile Nevermore. She did her best to picture it smaller, far smaller, barely the size of her hand.

And it was summoned…

Well, it was summoned, maybe, an inch smaller than a normal juvenile would be.

Her annoyance must’ve shown on her face, because Jaune didn’t even laugh at her when she failed. “A fine attempt. Unsummon it and continue working. Thou will likely need to shrink it down to around the size of your palm.

She’d actually been aiming for that size, so she was happy she’d gotten that right, at least. She unsummoned the Nevermore, and then tried again.

The results were similar for the next thirty or so minutes. During that time, no words, beyond advice, were exchanged between Weiss and Jaune.

On Weiss’ part, she was surprised that Jaune could offer advice in a non-disparaging way. He was actually quite intelligent, it seemed, and had a good, solid grasp of her semblance; or, well, the magical equivalent from one hundred thousand years ago.

…When had she started believing his story, exactly?

…Just… she wasn’t going to think about that.

Eventually, however, she’d managed to summon a Nevermore that was, roughly, the size of both of her hands. It wasn’t quite as small as she wanted, and yet, nonetheless, Jaune hummed out, sounding impressed.

“Thou hath done quite well to improve in so little time. In my own time, thy would have likely been considered a prodigy for such.”

Weiss did her best not to preen, and then preened.

“W-Well, I have been taught by the very best.”

“Indeed. Thou dost them credit.”

Gods, but her ego did not need this.

She wasn’t complaining, though.

…Actually…

“You’re being suspiciously nice right now.”

Jaune’s eyes widened briefly, before he coughed rather pointedly into one hand. “I’ve no idea what thou art referring to.”

Weiss eyed him.

“…Well, thou art my only means of escape.”

Weiss groaned, but shook her head. It was the truth, after all, and he’d been helpful. She supposed his intent didn’t truly matter given he’d been assisting her, and doing a damned good job of it.

So, she returned to what she’d been doing. Her aura was waning, slowly dissipating as she utilized her semblance more and more. She was panting below her breath, tired, but this was about escaping from a camp of bandits.

It was, in a way, akin to a life and death scenario.

That had thoughts of Beacon coming back up in her head. Thoughts of when she’d last been in such a scenario.

They were not welcome.

And perhaps it was that distraction, ultimately, that caused her to swear out under her breath just a bit too loudly when next she failed to summon the Grimm at the size she wished. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, the tattooed woman who’d been set to guard her stir.

She quickly dismissed the Nevermore – which was roughly the size of her hand outstretched, not quite small enough – and tried to pretend like she’d not been up to anything.

Unfortunately, the woman looked annoyed as she walked over to Weiss’ cage.

“The fuck are you doin’ in here?”

Weiss was very, very tempted to say ‘nothing’, as if she would possibly be believed.

“Man, you just won’t shut the fuck up, will ya’?” The woman planted her hands on her hips, and sneered.

And then…

Then her eyes locked onto the mirror inside Weiss’ cage.

“Ooh.” She walked over towards the cage, and squatted down so she could get a better look at it. “What do we have here?”

“It’s just a mirror. A gift from my family.” It was a lie, and likely a bad one. Implying that a Schnee had thought of it as a decent gift probably made its value shoot up in this bandit’s eyes.

And just as Weiss had suspected, the bandit’s eyes shone.

“Reaaaally.” She let the word hang as she stepped around the cage. “Well, I think I’m going to have to take that off your hands, then. Purely business; I’m sure you understand.”

Weiss wanted to protest, and she did, in fact, close the distance and take hold of the mirror just as the woman leaned in to grab it herself.

“Let go!” The tattooed woman stressed. “Or I’ll come in there and make you!”

“It’s… it’s an heirloom!”

“You think I give a shit!?”

Unfortunately, with her arms tied together as they were, Weiss couldn’t quite muster the strength to resist the bandit as she yanked the mirror out of her grasp. That motion sent the mirror flying, and the woman swore as it landed hard on the ground, in a manner that would have shattered a normal mirror instantly.

“Ah, fuck, did’ya break it already!?”

“How is that my fault!?” Weiss hissed out, even if she knew that no, the mirror was not going to be broken. “You were the one reaching in and refusing to let go.”

“Yeah, cause it’s my mirror now!” The tattooed bandit stressed. “We captured you, I found it, that makes it mine.”

It was the logic of a child, in Weiss’ eyes, but then, bandits seemed to think like children; attacking and profiting off of the lives of others instead of engaging with the world in a way that true adults would, so perhaps that was less of a surprise than she’d initially thought.

The woman walked over to the mirror, turned it over, and seemed surprised to find it totally unscathed.

“Huh. It’s not broken after all.”

Weiss said nothing.

“Damn… what are these gems, sapphires?”

They were, as far as Weiss could tell, stones of Lapis Lazuli, which were much less valuable than sapphires in general. She said as much, hoping that she might see it as a worthless antique.

“Huh. Never heard of them. Sounds posh as all hell.” The tattooed woman barked out a laugh. “I think I’ll keep this. Hang it up in my tent.”

Weiss bit down on her bottom lip. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t get the mirror back, but–

“Oi, Vernal, whatcha’ doin’ over there?”

The tattooed woman – apparently named Vernal – swore out under her breath as she hid the mirror behind her back. She swiveled on a dime, and Weiss leant slightly to the side to see the figure that was coming at them.

Another bandit, it seemed. Muscular, but not overly so. He certainly wasn’t anywhere near Yatsuhashi’s size, for instance.

“Just watching the prisoner.” Vernal spoke unconvincingly, doing her best to pretend like she wasn’t holding something behind her back. “Nothin’ much.”

“Psh, yeah right, kid. You’ve got somethin’. What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. But I’ll take it off your hands, if–”

Vernal snarled, and brought the mirror back around so that she was holding it in front of her. “It’s just a fuckin’ mirror, alright?”

“Huh?” The man leaned in, looking down at the mirror and raising an eyebrow, looking rather unimpressed. “Shit, I didn’t realize you were goin’ all girly girl now.”

“It’s not– what, I can’t want to look at myself without you thinkin’ I’m going around, puttin’ fuckin’ makeup on and shit!?”

The other bandit barked out a laugh. “I’m fuckin’ with ya’, Vernal. Still, that’s a mighty fine piece. Could probably fetch quite a bit. I challenge you for it.”

Vernal swore out under her breath. “Challenge denied.”

“Oh, then you surrender it–”

“I outrank you; I have the right to turn down your challenges.”

“You ain’t Raven, kid. Just ‘cause she keeps you around doesn’t mean–”

“You fuckin’–”

There were a lot of other terse words exchanged between the two of them, and at one point, the larger man reached for the mirror, trying to pry it from out of Vernal’s grasp. She wouldn’t let him, and the two briefly wrestled for it. The larger man came out on top in a duel of pure brute strength, and pried the mirror from out of her hands.

“Oh, seems I win after all.”

“Fuck you, you piece of fucking–”

Vernal swung with a weapon that she’d drawn in no time at all. It seemed to be some kind of ring blade, and she possessed two of them one attached to either wrist.  

She made to attack the other man, but he, sensing her hostility, put the mirror between them.

And the mirror, almost acting as a shield, took Vernal’s attack.

It didn’t put a scratch on it.

Vernal swore out under her breath as she brought her hand away, evidently having hurt her wrist swinging with such force. Weiss imagined that had to hurt; Not even aura was going to prevent pain, even if it likely kept her wrist from shattering like someone without aura’s would have.

Weiss would’ve been lying if she were to say she felt bad for the woman.

“Fucking asshole!”

“Damn, this thing’s fuckin’ tough!” The other man spoke, laughing under his breath. “Hold up, I wanna’ try something.”

“What are you–”

A moment later, the man drew a club from off of his belt. He held the mirror out in front of him, wound back, and then slammed his weapon into it as hard as he could.

The mirror emerged from the attack entirely unscathed.

“Fuck!” The man’s wrist had also been hurt in that attack. “Ack, fuckin’ shit! This thing’s fuckin’ indestructible or somethin’!”

“Whas’ going on over here?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

More and more bandits were coming out of the woodworks, evidently having been awoken by the commotion in front of Weiss’ cage. The bandit who’d taken the mirror from Vernal showed them each what it was about, and then challenged them to see if they could break it.

And so it was that, over the course of the next hour or so, a good twenty bandits did their damndest to find a way to break the cursed mirror that contained the Dread King Jaune D’Arc.

None succeeded, as was perhaps obvious given the whole ‘cursed by the gods to remain trapped forever’ thing.

It would’ve made for a pretty shitty prison for all eternity if a couple of bandits with some clubs and hammers could break it.

…That was the second time Weiss had mentally accepted Jaune’s story, and used it as a reason that something couldn’t possibly happen in the real world.

Great. She really was going crazy.

“Fuck, man!” One of the bandits shouted out as he shook out his wrists, having used a giant two-handed hammer to try and smash the thing with a straight vertical hit onto its exposed glass. “Is this thing made of steel or somethin’!?”

“Never seen anything like it.”

“I challenge you for it!”

“Nah, fuck that, I challenge you for it!”

“Me!”

“I challenge–”

“Enough!”

It was a voice that Weiss had heard but once during her time in the Branwen’s camp. She had, in all fairness, not been here too terribly long. But even so, she recognized it, recognized the commanding tone, the utter assuredness the speaker shouted out with that their words would be obeyed.

And sure enough, Raven Branwen stepped out of her tent and onto the orating platform in front of it.

She looked…

Actually, she just looked tired. Weiss wondered if they’d woken her up.

“Do you idiots not realize that it is the middle of the night!?” Raven did not seem happy, confirming Weiss’ suspicions. “And yet all I hear from you lot is constant bashing and braying! Are you a band of bulls, mindlessly charging the first thing that draws your attention!?”

None of them responded to that, and yet, Raven clearly expected an answer.

It was Vernal, who Weiss had begun to suspect was her second in command, that stepped up, and kneeled before her.

“Ma’am, I found an item within the prisoner’s cage that caught my interest. I took it from her, but it has… odd properties. The others wanted to test it, despite my telling them that this would–”

“Enough, Vernal.” Raven interrupted before she could speak any further. “This item; show it to me.”

One of the bandits did, holding up the mirror and approaching the tent.

Raven hummed as she saw it, evidently not terribly impressed with it.

“We been tryin’ to break it for an hour now, but it don’t break!”

That, at least, seemed to garner some interest from Raven Branwen, who held out her hand and allowed it to be placed within it.

And then…

Well…

All hell sort of broke loose.

/

Jaune D’Arc, Chief among the Lords of Light and Dread King of the D’Arc Kingdom, had initially been uncertain as to how he was going to avoid detection within his mirror, whilst also not allowing himself to succumb to the accursed slumber the Gods had forced upon him, as his prison was taken into the hands of a plethora of bandits, and repeatedly experimented upon.

It certainly wasn’t a very dignified method of hiding himself, but it turned out that lying down within whatever realm he’d been locked away in hid him from those looking into the mirror.

So, there he was; laid out on his back, looking like a total buffoon as a band of thieves attempted to somehow overcome the magics of the Brother Gods with large hammers and sticks.

It was, rather predictably, not going well for them.

Bandits, however, were not the brightest lights in the proverbial sky, and so they continued to do this for a quite frankly unreasonable period of time until someone came out to physically stop them.

That someone had a commanding voice, and a presence that radiated… familiarity.

It was magic.

Weiss had told him that no one in this world possessed magic any longer. And yet Jaune knew what he felt. The ability to recognize the magic of others was one of the first spells taught to any mage in his time. It was a blanketly useful ability, one which could be utilized to see an enemy coming before they could advance upon oneself, or to locate a lost ally in the wilderness that would have otherwise gone unnoticed.

Those were simply two examples. It, like most magics, was extremely flexible.

But right now, he was using it for something far more complicated.

He was trying to identify the originator of that magic.

Because he couldn’t help but feel the magic itself was known to him.

He focused in on it as the woman took his mirror in her hands, and suddenly, that feeling of familiarity hit a fever pitch. Jaune’s head practically radiated with it.

He knew it, he knew it, but where from, where had it–

And then he knew.

He remembered the color of it, the timbre of it; that magic wielded by that foolish knight that Salem had chosen to be her own. How it had glowed an emerald green, how it had radiated life, and hope, and goodness in every spark.

Oh, how it had disgusted him. That such a nobody like him had wielded such potent magics, such heroic magics, when Jaune’s had only ever been dark, and horrid, and weak. Oh, how he had hated him instantaneously; the very moment he’d laid his eyes upon him.

This…

This was Ozma’s magic.

Impossible. That was his first thought. It was entirely impossibly for Ozma’s magic to persist this long after the man’s death.

Unless…

Unless he wasn’t dead.

It was a thought that had Jaune’s brow creasing; his lips peeling back. A thought that had his eyes narrowing; his teeth grinding together.

This woman…

If she served Ozma, if she served the man who had taken everything from Jaune…

He could not harm her from within this mirror. He had briefly tried to utilize his attack magics from within during his time in the Schnee Manor whilst Weiss was asleep. But…

There was a magic he could utilize that would be able to escape from out of his mirror.

A magic based not on power, but on emotion.

He channeled it into his form, felt it in the back of his throat, and then pushed himself up inside of the mirror.

For a brief moment, that woman – Raven, he was fairly certain her name had been – looked at him, and her own eyes widened.

Surprise, perhaps shock filtering through her.

That, Jaune couldn’t help but want to laugh, would only be getting worse.

/

The effect was instant. One moment the clearing that Raven was standing within had been lit by the fire in the center, and the light of the moon above. It had been a somewhat chilly, but ultimately comfortable night. The clearing itself had been filled with a bunch of rough, tough, and confident bandits.

And in the next…

“You!” A voice echoed out from all around them, a heinous, vile thing that had Weiss grimacing, placing her hands over her ears and falling to her knees instantly. A fear unlike anything she’d ever felt coursed through her chest, and briefly, she thought that perhaps she was going to die.

It only grew worse when the voice spoke another word.

“You who have been given power by that bastard, Ozma.” It was Jaune’s voice, Weiss realized, and that was perhaps the only thing that allowed her to push herself up off the ground; to take a breath where so many others in the clearing were squealing, or hiding, or running for their lives. “You who wield ancient magics far beyond your understanding!”

Raven Branwen – who had, previously, stood as the stalwart leader of the group – practically threw the mirror back as she took a battle stance, placing her hand on the hilt of Omen. Despite that she was ready to draw her weapon, her eyes were filled with terror, and her bottom lip was quivering.

“Who the hell are you!?” She somehow found the strength to scream.

“I am a sworn enemy of that man. A sworn enemy of everything he stands for; of everything he’s built. I shall tear it down, brick by brick, until naught but ash remains of his legacy! Hear me! I am Jaune D’Arc, Chief among the Lords of Light! And I have risen once again!”

It was clear that those final words, at least, Raven had no idea what to make of. Where Jaune had, apparently, detected the magic of the man from his tale, Ozma, he had also seemingly jumped the gun somewhat. Thought that his presence would be the influential element.

Yet he was an unknown to Raven; that was clear to her.

“Girl!” Jaune’s voice called out, and it took Weiss a moment to realize he was talking to her. “We are leaving this place. This rabble shan’t hold us any longer!”

It was about as subtle as a brick in terms of a signal, but Weiss understood what Jaune was getting at. She had little aura left, but she possessed enough to summon the Arma Gigas – not at all limited in size – and strike the cage holding her in twain. It broke into splinters, scattering to the wind as Weiss rose from her feet. The Arma Gigas’ sword served to cut the restraints on her arms and legs, and she stepped towards Jaune’s mirror.

The effects of his magic, the fear that had briefly taken hold, was waning on Weiss specifically. yet, when she looked around, she couldn’t help but notice that the other bandits didn’t seem to be having the same luck. Many of them were still cowering in abject terror, unwilling to so much as look at the mirror that laid on the ground beneath Weiss.

Vernal, who seemed to be the only bandit besides Raven to still possess a spine, drew her weapons with shaky hands.

“NO!” Raven shouted at her, holding her hand out and preventing Vernal from stepping forward. “Let her go! She… she is not someone we wish to toy with.”

Weiss wasn’t really sure what that was about but she was more than willing to take it. If this had somehow devolved into a battle, Weiss was almost sure she wouldn’t have been able to do a thing against Raven Branwen, who was likely Qrow’s equal.

But fear was a powerful thing. The belief that one could not win a battle was often enough to decide it before the battle had even begun.

Weiss took up the mirror and backed away slowly at first, but Jaune, it seemed, had not finished speaking.

“Tell your master, child, that I am returned! And that I shall bring about an end to all he has writ upon this world! I shall restore my kingdom to its former glory! I shall have my revenge!”

And with that, Weiss ran.

/

Raven was still shaking when the Schnee girl disappeared beyond the tree line.

The rest of her camp was no different.

There were several figures who had retreated into their tents. Others had pissed themselves, and fallen to the ground, cowering in fear. One or two had passed out, and laid still on the grass. Some had even run away entirely, fleeing the confines of the Branwen’s camp and into Mistral’s wilds. Radiating fear as they were, the Grimm would almost certainly kill them.

Raven was pleased with Vernal that she’d been able to bring herself to raise her weapon; to actually attempt to defend herself and Raven both.

Pleased, but even so, she hadn’t been willing to allow her to go through with it.

Because…

That presence, that darkness…

It was too similar to that which Raven had felt before. Too similar to that which the man within that mirror had just said.

He’d gotten some things wrong, of course. He’d claimed that she was the apprentice of Ozpin – he’d called him Ozma, and wasn’t that concerning? – or some other such nonsense, but the rest of it…

He’d known about the Spring Maiden’s powers.

He’d known about her former allegiances.

And…

He’d said he was an enemy of all that Ozma had ever built.

That could mean only one thing.

He was in league with, or allied with, Salem.

Still, the facts of the matter seemed almost alien to Raven. That Salem could have a Schnee under her employ… did her reach, her ability to worm her way into the hearts of men, truly have no limits?

She thought of Summer, and what had happened. She thought of her own cowardice. She thought of the lamp, the accursed lamp, and that question she’d once asked it.

And its answer; entirely damning.

She shivered in place, even as she turned back to Vernal, and, lacking any energy to try and do any of the things that might normally be expected of her – rounding up the deserters, getting everyone to calm down, hell, to just wake up the few people who had passed out – she said, “Let’s just… go back to sleep for a while. We can deal with the fallout of… this in the morning.”

Vernal nodded shakily, and Raven thought that was the end of it. Yet, when she went to turn back to her tent, Vernal called out to her.

She turned back to see her right-hand woman looking down and away.

“Uhm… can I…” Vernal was blushing in embarrassment. “Can I sleep in your tent tonight?”

Raven just stared at Vernal. Vernal was pale as a sheet, as if shocked she’d asked such a thing.

Silence reigned in their clearing for a good five to ten seconds.

“…Ugh, fuck it. Sure.”

Raven would appreciate the company as well, though she’d never once admit it.

/

A few hundred kilometers away, walking through the wilds of Mistral, Oscar Pine felt a chill down his spine.

He turned, but there was no one behind him. In fact, the path was empty of anything, even animals. To be fair, it was the middle of the night. The fact that they were still walking came down, mostly, to the fact that there had been no frontier towns within range when Oscar had first thought to stop.

Ozpin was also incredibly paranoid about falling asleep out in the wilderness alone, and… yeah, actually, Oscar couldn’t really fault him on that.

“What was that?” He realized it had been around thirty seconds, so clarified. “That… odd feeling just now?”

“I do not expressly know.” Ozpin murmured, but his voice suggested he had some idea. Oscar was already beginning to get some idea as to when Ozpin was holding information back from him. “The simple fact of the matter is that what I think it might be is an impossibility.”

“What do you think it might be?”

“That is beyond our concerns at the moment. For now, we continue making for Mistral. Once we are there, we can contact my allies.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Y’know, I’d appreciate some actual answers every once in a while.”

“And you will have them. In time.”

“Sure, we’ll pretend I believe that.”

Ozpin said nothing as they walked on, putting ground behind them.

/

Deep within the bowels of Evernight, one Salem D’Arc – though she had long since forgotten that name – felt a shift in the air.

She stood from her position within her dining hall, and made her way out, and up the stairs. As she went, she thought on just what it was she’d just felt.

She…

She recognized that feeling.

She knew it.

And yet it was an impossibility. It was something that could not possibly have happened.

That was what she would assume normally.

But then, the world of Remnant had ever been one of impossibilities, had it not?

Watts seemed quite startled as she disassembled his door to its basic components, and invited her way into his space.

“Have I… done something to upset you, mistress?”

“No, you have not.” Salem sighed as she reassembled the door behind her idly, not even turning to face it. “I simply require your assistance.”

“Of course. What is it I should do?”

She appreciated that about Watts; he was not one to waste either of their time.

“Contact Hazel…

It was something from the dawn of time; the revenant of a long-forgotten enemy, and yet…

“Tell him to be on the lookout for a figure travelling Mistral…

“One holding a lapis mirror.”

/

Yang Xiao-Long had expected finding the Branwen’s camp to be a little more action packed.

After all, she’d had this whole spiel planned. She was going to rough up one of their members, get them to take her back, and then confront her mother, beat the crap out of her, and convince her into giving her a ride to Qrow. It seemed pretty foolproof, at least to her.

Life, it seemed, had other ideas.

Because when she’d arrived at a rather seedy looking bar, she’d found a man scared out of his wits, ranting about some horrible dark figure who’d assaulted the Branwen’s camp. Apparently, he’d run away, and somehow not been caught by the Grimm on his way here.

Yang had interrogated him – okay, really, she’d just asked him questions, but saying interrogated made her feel cooler – on the camp’s location, and then taken Bumblebee the rest of the way. When she’d subsequently arrived, she’d found…

Well, a mostly abandoned camp.

She parked her bike and locked the wheels in place. Someone could still take it if they wanted to by hauling it along with them, but it wasn’t going anywhere on its own power.

She walked up to the wooden gate, and, lacking any other ideas, knocked on the door.

Nothing happened.

Huh.

She pressed her hands on the door, and pushed it open. She stepped into the Branwen camp to find…

Well, not much of anything.

There were the remains a fire in the middle of the camp, one that had burnt out entirely. There were a couple of people who were passed out on the sides of the camp. Yang had initially thought them dead, but no, a quick check for breathing – which they were – and injuries – which none of them had – proved that they were just unconscious.

This was… well, weird felt like a small understatement.

She saw the big tent in the center of the camp, and sort of just assumed it belonged to her mother.

It was as fair a guess as she was going to be able to come up with, so she just sort of… walked in.

Her mother’s tent was pretty spartan in terms of decorations, seeming much more focused on function than form. She felt a bit awkward about barging in without saying anything – but given her mother was a bandit, and her recreation was barging in without saying anything, she felt she could be forgiven.

She looked around, saw what she presumed to be her mother’s cot, and found…

Well, she found her mother cuddled up against a girl who was, at most, the same age as Yang.

So, yes, Yang had some questions almost immediately.

They were sleeping together, but were they sleeping together? That felt like the first and most important. Those were drastically different things; sleeping and sleeping.

She then realized that she’d been stuck staring at the two of them, wide-eyed and astonished, for going on a fifteen seconds now, which was really creepy.

She cleared her throat, and watched as both figures in Raven’s bed stirred. The younger girl yawned before snuggling her way back into Raven’s embrace, which hurt Yang in a way that she was not at all willing to acknowledge.

Eventually, Raven stirred herself, grumbling about not wanting to get up right then, but she looked up at Yang, went pale, and then seemingly realized the situation that she’d been found in, with her arms wrapped around a girl half her age.

“So, uh…” Yang wasn’t even really sure how to start this.

“I’m taking it I missed something?”

Chapter Text

“So, let me get this straight,”

Raven Branwen, her mother, and the queen of a tribe of bloodthirsty bandits, was currently doing her best to avoid Yang’s dead-eyed stare. Sitting just beside her, and looking like she had just been launched out of bed against her will – mostly because she had been – was Vernal. She had, up until about five minutes ago, been comfortably sleeping beside her mother, the two of them cuddling up together.

If they hadn’t been fully clothed and obviously not into each another – or, well, Raven wasn’t into Vernal, Yang didn’t know if that held true the other way around – then Yang’s entire vibe would’ve been more than a little different.

“You captured Weiss Schnee – who is my friend and teammate, by the way – after she crash landed in a bullhead from being attacked by a Queen Lancer and its brood…”

Raven coughed stiltedly. “Sounds about right.”

“You then proceeded to lock her in a cage, which isn’t cool at all. Even worse is that you didn’t even consider the fact that she is a Huntress, and that the bars of said cage were made of wood…”

Raven coughed again, this time with an embarrassed expression. “…Sounds about right.”

“Vernal then… played around with a mirror that Weiss had brought with her, which devolved into the entire camp trying to break the mirror for shits and giggles?”

“Wasn’t my idea.” Vernal crabbily responded. “I just wanted it.”

“Okay… so from here… you kind of lose me.”

Raven and Vernal both had expressions on their faces like they were exasperated… but that they could also understand why Yang couldn’t at all find it in herself to believe what they were saying.

Because…

“You’re telling me Weiss was under the employ of the Queen of the Grimm!?” Yang shot her mother a glare. “Like… you honestly believe that?”

“Hey, the figure in the mirror was certainly related to her in some way, and it ordered the girl around.” Raven stated, trying to remain calm, but clearly fraying a bit. Even talking about this Salem woman – who Yang had been told about all of thirty seconds ago – had her on edge. “That mirror was magic; I know that feeling. I’ve only ever felt it a few times in my life, when I– er, Vernal uses the Spring Maiden’s power,”

Yang was going to pretend that she hadn’t heard that, but she categorized the fact that her mother was the Spring Maiden away for later.

“There’s just this… current in the air. It feels just like that. And there are only two people on the face of Remnant who can use magic anymore; Salem, and Ozpin.”

“Okay, sure, we’ll pretend I’m buying any of this whole ‘Queen of the Grimm’ crap,” Yang shook her head. “But Ozpin is dead.”

“He’s not dead.”

“We saw his body get carried out of Beacon on the news. There was a huge state sponsored funeral. Like a thousand people went.”

“His body might be dead. The man you falsely know as Ozpin is not dead.”

Yang just sighed. “Okay, we can come back to that later… the… figure in Weiss’ mirror… describe it for me. You were kind of flighty about it before.”

If it was possible for Raven to grow even more visibly frightened, even more afraid, then she did. Her bottom lip shook, even as Vernal reached across and took her bosses’ hand, almost like she was offering her support.

Yang did her best to not be jealous about that even a little. So, what if her mother who’d never wanted her had found a surrogate daughter figure? Why would Yang care? Of course she wouldn’t care. That would be stupid.

Really stupid.

…

What had she been talking about again? Oh, yeah, the magical figure in Weiss’ mirror.

“Mirror. Explain.” Yang spoke rather curtly.

“It…” Raven hesitated. “It was the chill wind blowing on the world’s darkest day. It was the promise of death that every living creature goes its whole life trying to avoid thinking of. It was being held beneath the water just as you tried to take a breath, and finding yourself unable to.”

Raven looked up at her, and Yang…

Her hands shook.   

“It was… fear. Fear made manifest. A being… beyond human.”

/

“Art we there yet?”

Weiss Schnee, former heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, did her absolute best to keep her composure.

It was growing… very difficult.

“No.”  She responded in a monotone, tired voice. “We are not there yet. Much like we were not there yet the last hundred or so times you asked.”

“Well, we hath walked a while longer. It felt prudent to ask again.”

“It’s been ten minutes!”

“Tis a while.”

“Is it!?”

“I believe so.”

Her eye twitched.

“Still, art thou positive we are not there yet?” Jaune’s voice echoed out from her left side, where she had his mirror held under her arm. “We hath been walking for quite a while.”

“I am…” Weiss took a breath, doing her absolute best to not chuck the mirror into the nearest stream and allow it to be carried away. “Very positive.”

Talking to Jaune was almost like talking to a toddler.

A hyper-intelligent, very annoying toddler.

“Hmph.” Jaune hummed as if he was offended at the very principle of what Weiss had said. “What is the reason behind things being so spread out? Back in my era, entire countries took up less space than the ground we have covered just today!”

Weiss groaned, realizing that she was carrying around a toddler and a ‘back in my day’ old man at the same time. “It’s not that simple. Back in your time, people could use magic, and there didn’t exist the constant threat of the Grimm.”

“Not really a threat–”

She took up the mirror, held it in front of her face, and raised an eyebrow.

“Ahem. My apologies. Continue?”

“Right.” Weiss hissed out as she slotted the mirror back under her arm. “There’s… extenuating factors. Most are based around the Grimm, as I said. The most important thing for modern settlements to have in order to survive are natural defenses that can keep Grimm away. Mistral is built on a giant mountain, for example, where only flying Grimm can reach. Mistrals ground level is also constantly patrolled and protected. Smaller frontier towns are often built in and around Mistral, to try and capitalize on the lighter population of Grimm in and around the city.”

“Often?”

“Sometimes people are willing to take the risks that the wilds further out provide in exchange for the benefits; ample land and other such things. For example, a group of people unsatisfied with the price of goods in Mistral, and unable to find homes in even the less expensive settlements directly outside it, might strike out into the wilds to find a nice secluded spot. Provided they got lucky, they might be able to till farmland that’s been all but untouched for hundreds of years, erect a town, and, if all goes well, be able to start their own society.”

“And if things do not go well, I take it that they’re never heard from again.”

Weiss grunted. “That is… the darker part of ambition, yes. Many – or perhaps even most – of those people who set out looking to found frontier villages do not survive even a month or two. Of those towns and villages that manage the taxing task of coming into existence, less than five percent survive their first year. Settlements like Patch, in Vale, which is where my teammates Ruby and Yang live, are very rare, and those also mostly come down to natural advantages. Patch, for instance, is a small island, easy to regularly comb and cull the Grimm upon. Aquatic Grimm are also rarely able to operate on land. Thusly, they contend only with migratory flying Grimm on a sporadic basis. This makes it a relatively safe place to live, even if it’s outside of the City of Vale itself.”

“I see…” Jaune hummed. “I had not thought that the Grimm would have such an effect on your society, but… if it is true that none of your people can use magic, and only have access to a more bastardized form of power in these… what did you call them?”

“Aura and semblances.”

“Yes, those, then the Grimm would I suppose be rather terrifying. And that terror…”

“Would only attract more Grimm.” Weiss nodded her head, glad Jaune was getting it. “If a few people in a frontier village are killed in a Grimm attack, then chances are the rest are going with them when their families start to wail, and scream, and cry; their negative emotions bringing the Grimm right to them. It’s… quite dark to think about.”

“I retract my previous statement on the humans of this day and age being pathetic.” Jaune spoke, and Weiss was… well, a bit shocked, to be honest. “It had not occurred to me when I first made the comment that most of humanity in this time are powerless civilians. Back in my time, only the peasants and commoners were untrained with magic, and even they often figured out how to utilize their innate magics by simply… well, using them. If a village came under attack, then the people would defend it with summoned fire, ice, and lightning.”

“The people of our day have farming implements.” Weiss spoke. “Hoes, shovels; if they’re lucky, axes.”

“Such are of little use against the Grimm.”

“Exactly.”

It was a rather macabre topic of conversation; the way that villages fell to the Grimm, and the intensely low survival rate of frontier towns and villages. There was a reason there were so few. Weiss could remember a village of a few thousand in Atlas that had been seen as having the potential to start being a major trading post. And then… one day, it had just been gone.

The same could be said of Mountain Glenn, and so many other projects.

The Grimm were fierce, merciless, and sometimes, seemingly random in their decisions. They would leave alone a village for a decade, and swarm it without rhyme or reason the very next day.

Such was life upon Remnant, however.

“I must say however, it is good that thee no longer doubt the validity of what I say.”

“Hm?”

“Before, thou constantly claimed that I was telling falsehoods, but thou have accepted that I am who I say I am.”

…

…She had, hadn’t she.

Ah, shit.

“Ah, look to the west, a village!”

Weiss was glad for the topic change, so that she didn’t have to acknowledge what Jaune had said. She had her doubts for a moment, but sure enough, when she raised her head, she saw a rather sizeable settlement.

It was nowhere near what Weiss would call a ‘map worthy’ village, in that it likely wouldn’t have even been printed on official maps as of yet, but it seemed to be made up of a few hundred people. Weiss had been walking nonstop ever since they’d fled the Branwen camp.

She could really use a break.

So it was that they filtered into the village, and received some rather confused stares because of it.

Weiss couldn’t exactly fault the people here, given that they probably didn’t see visitors coming into town all that often. One’s dressed like her that had weapons strapped to their hips were likely even rarer.

Their first order of business was finding a room for the evening. Weiss wasn’t exactly thrilled to be spending time in a village that she’d just talked about having a rather low survival rate, but then, her options weren’t exactly plentiful in that moment, either.

And so it was that Weiss Schnee entered into the nearby inn. It was really more a tavern that technically had rooms available, judging by the fact that the clientele started and ended with middle aged men and women drinking around tables, laughing and cavorting.

“A room, please.” Weiss asked.

“Ne’er seen you ‘round ‘ere before.” The man spoke with a heavy accent, one that Weiss hadn’t heard before. “Travellin’ Huntress?”

“Something like that.” She admitted. “Do you have any rooms available.”

“Yeah, a few. Runs ya’ seventy lien a night.”

That was… really quite cheap, honestly. Weiss had honestly expected to be gouged a bit on the pricing, given it was obvious she didn’t exactly have any other options.

She reached back into her pocket, searching for her wallet…

And then sort of remembered the place she’d just come from.

That being a bandit camp.

And she, having been their captive, had been stripped of all valuables – aside from Jaune, which was pretty stupid of them – the moment they’d brought her to their camp.

So of course, Weiss had no lien at all.

Of course.

Unfortunately…

“Er…” She coughed. “I–”

“No money?” The man asked, sounding unsurprised. “Yeah, we get yer’ type every once in a while. Unsuccessful hunters comin’ out to the wilds ta’ get work. I was actually askin’ earlier ‘cause I assumed ya’d want a job or somethin’.”

Weiss didn’t much like the insinuation – okay, it wasn’t an insinuation, really, more of a statement – that she was an unsuccessful hunter! Still, she had no money to her name, and she did need some.

So, Weiss sighed, prepared herself to work without any rest, and then asked, “What needs done?”

/

All in all, Weiss had really expected to be doing something a little more… Huntressy.

“Aye’, girl, just like that!” One of the other women currently toiling in the small patch of farmland they were working on commented as she pulled up a small, misshapen potato. “Yer’ a natural spud puller!”

Weiss couldn’t help thinking that wasn’t much a compliment.

“How much more of this?” She asked, entirely exhausted after having walked half a day to get there, and then being made to do manual labor. She was not built for such.

“Hm… depends. Prob’ly three hours? Four maybe?”

Weiss was fairly certain she popped a blood vessel in that instant.

“That… how many potatoes are there!?”

“A few hundred? Maybe more?” The woman shrugged. “We don’t really count when we plant ‘em, girl.”

Weiss popped a second blood vessel. Which was likely going to be a problem if such continued.

“That… how much precision do you need these… spuds dug up with?”

“Eh… some people are a bit finicky, but we don’t really bother with bein’ all that careful. Better to be fed now and have a few smaller spuds than wait and potentially have a blight to deal with in a month. Yer’ free to be a bit rough if ya’ want.”

Weiss nodded her head, even as she took a breath, reached back for Myrtenaster, and then stabbed it into the ground.

“Er, girl, I don’t think that’s really going to help you dig up–”

In the next moment, Weiss’ Arma Gigas appeared just beside her. She looked up at it, nodded, and then stepped back and away from the plot of land.

“W-What in the brother’s name is that!?” The woman screamed, but Weiss held out a hand.

“Calm. It is a summon that I have full control over.” She spoke, and the woman nodded her head, still seeming a bit startled. Weiss supposed that was sort of her fault for not announcing what she was about to do in any way. “Case in point…”

She focused hard on her next action. The Arma Gigas’ giant blade moved into position. It stabbed its sword into the earth perpendicular to the field length-wise, so that the flat edge was facing up. And then, in a move that was entirely too mundane for a giant summoned suit of armor…

Weiss used that giant sword to pull up the dirt, and make the potatoes rise to the surface. Then, she shook the sword back and forth, disturbing the potatoes and making them break away from the dirt and roots that had been surrounding them.

Slowly but surely, the fifty or so potatoes on top of the Arma Gigas’ sword fell to the top of the dirt. They were entirely detached from it, and easy to collect.

The woman across from her, who’d been helping her pick them so far, had her mouth agape.

Weiss continued onwards, doing the same thing for each of the twenty or so rows. When she looked at it like this, the speed she’d been going at before might’ve very well taken her multiple hours to dig them all up.

Now, she was going to manage that in minutes.

She dug up the final row, and turned back to see the lady who had instructed her piling the potatoes into a great big wheelbarrow. She had a glint in her eye, like she was absolutely thrilled.

Weiss couldn’t blame her; she was probably going to be done with work three and a half hours earlier than normal.

“You’ve got mah’ thanks, love!” The woman guffawed as Weiss unsummoned the Arma Gigas, its mission concluded. “Saved me an’ ma’ back a whole nighta’ work!”

“You are most welcome.” Weiss curtsied, a figment of her upbringing. “May I report this job as having been finished, then?”

“‘Course! I’ll ‘ave a word with Spencer, he’s a bit bitey with strangers, but he don’t mean nothin’ by it, ya’ get me?”

Weiss got what she was fairly sure the woman meant, even if she was a bit confused about the whole affair.

“Then thank you for your help.”

“Naw, girl, that’s all on you!” The woman slapped Weiss’ back appreciatively, which hurt much more than Weiss had expected, given she was in shape to be working fields every day. She had muscles that were a lot more defined than Yang’s, even. “Now get ta’ bed, ya’ look like yer’ gonna’ collapse!”

Weiss nodded her head, even as she bid the woman farewell, and made her way over to the corner of the plot.

There, she took up the mirror that had been watching her work, and held it under her arm once more.

“‘Twas a rather clever application of your enslaved Grimm, I must say.”

“It’s a part of my semblance; the ability to summon those Grimm I’ve slain in combat.”

“Ah. I see. Still, I must admit, I find all of this rather exciting!”

Weiss eyed the mirror oddly.

“Why?”

“Well, don’t you think this is like a quest that might be issued to a hero of old?”

“There were heroes of old in your day?”

“Well, of course. Hath thou not heard of Estral the Gallant?”

“Uh… no?”

Jaune let out a noise halfway between a gasp and a hacking cough.

“Ridiculous! Absolutely, positively–” He huffed. “Estral was a hero of the finest caliber! He freed the lands of light from tyranny at the hands of–”

“Jaune.” She cut him off. “Stories that were considered old a hundred thousand years ago not existing now isn’t really all that surprising, is it?”

Jaune seemed to consider this a moment. “…Well, I suppose when you put it that way, no. It is not.”

Jaune took a moment. “How odd. I had not thought of Estral in… gods, but it has been some time. His was a tale told to me by my mother, whenever she laid me down to rest. She would tuck me in, and then tell tales of Estral, going about the Kingdom of D’Arc and slaying great beasts, or rescuing helpless citizens. He was a gallant figure. A true hero.”

“…I wanted to be just like him.”

It was said with a strange sort of finality; like he’d uttered something that could not possibly come to pass.

Jaune was silent for a while, but the reason became evident as he spoke again. “This village is… conjuring up memories for me, I find. I can remember finding myself alongside the peasants of the D’Arc kingdom, those who worked the fields outside the castle. It… despite one hundred thousand years having passed, it resembled the scenes you see all around you as if I had been transported back.”

Jaune seemed to be in one of his reminiscing moods. Weiss didn’t want to interrupt him, because, even if she would never admit it, she found herself fascinated with the stories he told.

“The homes were made of mahogany, not particularly well cut. The people were just the same. He began, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone. “They each oft slept on hay, just like the animals, for crafting a bed was time consuming and difficult work. They ate of potatoes, and stews, and things that were long lasting, simple, and easy to create. To be served such would have been considered insults where I was raised. The first time I saw them, the people of that tiny burrow I first ended up in, I had half a mind to think they’d been misshapen from out of the mold that the nobles I’d been around had been cut from. Yet from those faces, some ugly, some bruised, and some cut, and bloodied… came only kindness.”

“I simmered in those days; revenge the only thing on my mind. I was unable to accept the fact that my brother had cast me aside, especially after I’d given everything to follow in his footsteps. I was… unwilling to let such go. The people saw me, broiling beneath the surface, and should have perhaps thrown me away. Cast me to the wolves. It is what I would have done in their place. Yet…”

“They found a place for me, at their hearths. They found a place for me, stood beside them in their fields, and they took care of me. They taught me how to do all of those things that others had done for me. I was taught to cook, and to clean. I was taught how to farm, and how to tend to the animals about the fields. Tis… almost humorous. I was there for only a few months. The majority of my time spent away from the castle was spent gathering forces to assault it. But in those days… I think if things had stayed as they were, I would not have risen up against my brother at all. My anger had dissipated. I was… not at peace, but arriving there slowly but steadily.”

“And then… all at once, the facts of the world caught up to me. It was announced that one of the couples who had been taking care of me, teaching me the ways of the world, would be having a child. I gave them my best wishes. But the wife expressed worry. They spoke of her mother having died during child birth. Her having been born near death, barely there. I was flabbergasted. The idea that such a thing could happen.”

“Never before had I known a noble person to fear the act of bearing a child. Never before had I thought of such an event as a cause for alarm, or worry. Only celebration; merriment. I realized in that moment that when my cousins had been born, there had been people with training; knowledge of how to properly deliver those children, and even magic that could be used to aid in the process, present. It was not healing, as such was incredibly rare, but it was a sort of warming and cooling used to stretch the muscles of the uterus and pelvis.”

“And so… I tried to tell them of this. I knew little, of course, of the actual specifics behind such magics, but I was confident I could help them to recreate them. Or… perhaps not confident, but I wanted to be able to reassure them. I wanted to be able to do something for them. But… they did not have as strong a grasp on their own natural magics, and were unwilling to risk such a thing when a mistake could cost the mother or child her life. So, they decided to allow the woman to go into labor without aiding her beyond what was known at the time.”

“She died. The child came out stillborn.” Jaune’s breaths were haggard, then, as if merely remembering such things had him feeling broken. “Her husband wept at the bed where her body lied still. He wept there for an entire day. We allowed him to stay there for the night, thinking it might help. We… came back to find that he’d slit his own throat with a farming implement.”

Weiss felt a profound sadness fill her. Such a story… she imagined there were hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of them. But she had heard this one.

And thus, it affected her.

“A week letter, a man from the D’Arc kingdom came to collect the King’s tribute. Our village had suffered a great loss. Two of its brightest dead. The man from the kingdom cared not. He asked nothing of their lives. He did not offer to help them with anything. He merely took from those people half of what they’d made that year. They loaded up carriages and carriages of supplies, and offered not a word to them. They left that same day, having given nothing at all. And it was then… it was then that I had an epiphany.”

“How could this be happening, I thought, in the kingdom of D’Arc? I had always accepted that my brother was a just king. A good man. Surely, I was furious at him, but in my heart of hearts, I had not thought him evil for choosing Salem over myself. I had thought the decision foolhardy. Idiotic. I had taken such personally. But it was only then that doubt began to emerge as towards my brother’s lordship. After all, what I had seen went against the very ideals I had been raised upon. My father had instilled in us the idea that a true king thought of each of his subjects with every decision he made. And yet the men and women I was surrounded by were treated like they were diseased, or filthy. They were anything but. For the first time in my life, I knew honesty. I knew truth.”

“Yet they were treated like the dirt beneath the nobles’ boots. Like tools to be used, and discarded. Their lives meant nothing. They were a resource, and nothing more. And my rage, then, which had all but died, built up again. A great and powerful fervor roared to life inside my chest. I–”

“Oi! Missy!”

Weiss was wrenched from out of her own head. She’d been so lost in Jaune’s story that she’d totally forgotten that she’d been walking back to the inn. Who had called out to her?

She looked up, and sure enough, the man from the inn – probably Spencer? – waved her over.

“Martha’ said ya’ got the potatoes up already. Not sure how ya’ managed that, but well, deal’s a deal. Here,” He chucked a key – an honest-to-goodness key made of some kind of metal – into her hands. “Ya’ve got the top room for the week.”

“The week!?” Weiss found herself flabbergasted. “But… I only did a single job!”

“Hah. Sure. But ya’ gave my wife a night off for the first time in a decade.” The man laughed. “And that’s worth a bit of lien ta’ me. ‘Sides, not like I was rentin’ to any of the people livin’ here, huh?”

Weiss… she couldn’t really argue with that, could she? It would’ve been both pointless and antithetical to the fact that she very much wanted the room. She was exhausted.

Still…

“Thank you.” She told the man.

“Hah!” He barked out a laugh. “Tha’s the law of the countryside. Someone does good by ya’? Ya’ pay it forward.”

And with that, he turned around, and entered back into the inn without another word.

Weiss was left standing there, sort of blankly.

She heard Jaune chuckle at her side.

“Yes… nothing’s changed at all.”

She didn’t say anything in response. She was far too tired.

She made her way into the inn as well, headed to the top floor, opened the door to her room, and practically collapsed into the bed.

She was asleep within a minute.

/

The next few days for Weiss were fairly similar to that one. She built up a bit of a reputation for using her semblance to solve problems in minutes that would take others hours.

Of course, the downside to that was that she could not be nearly as careful as someone could with their bare hands, but no one in the village – which Weiss had learned was called Woodcreek – seemed to mind having a few hours off from Weiss solving their problems for them, even if the work she did was a bit less precise.

Feeding the animals? The Arma Gigas could handle giant bales of hay that would’ve taken a tractor or, at the very least, a wheelbarrow and several people to move. Chopping down trees for firewood? Again, her Arma Gigas’ blade made quick work of them, able to sever multiple trees in a single swing. Hunting deer and other game animals? An Ursa could track their scents for miles.

In the three days Weiss was in the village, they operated at roughly one-thousand percent efficiency.

That was barely an exaggeration at all. If anything, it might’ve undersold Weiss’ contributions.

It wasn’t exactly what she’d planned on doing, of course. She’d intended to make a little money, buy enough supplies to make it to Mistral – on account of having no money, and the suitcases she’d packed still being back in the Branwen’s camp – and then leave the moment she could.

But…

She was actually enjoying her time in the village.

When the farmers joked with her, she needled them back, and earned laughter for it. When someone showed her how to best go about doing something, she picked it up quickly, and did her best to implement it. When the rancher’s daughter offered to let her ride some of their horses around, Weiss obliged, utilizing a skill that she hadn’t in nearly a decade. 

She had always wanted to be a Huntress in order to become the strongest person she could be. Or perhaps she’d merely wanted to follow in Winter’s steps; her older sister had been her idol, after all. She’d looked up to her more than anyone in her childhood, and Winter had been strong above all else.

But it was only then that she found herself understanding the reasoning behind Ruby, and Ren, and Nora wanting to be Hunters.

To help people.

To see the smiles on their faces; to be a part of their lives, to swoop in at the last minute and save the day.

She could see the appeal, even when ‘saving the day’ in this case was making their lives just that little bit easier.

Even so, the time eventually came when Weiss realized she needed to move on. She found herself… almost sad when she told the innkeeper, and he gave a wan smile in response.

“Ya’ sure we can’t convince ya’ to stay?” The man asked, laughing, already knowing it to be a hopeless endeavor. “We’ve had just about the best week of our lives out here with you present.”

“I’m afraid I’ve got somewhat of a mission to attend to.” Weiss told him, and she decided to just be honest. “I don’t know if the news would’ve reached this far, about what happened at Beacon and Vale?”

“Aye, there was an attack of some kind, right?”

“Mm. I’m here looking to meet up with some others, and investigate some of the culprits behind that.”

“Ah.” The man chuckled. “I suppose I can’t fault that motivation at all, now can I? Alright, girl. Well, if ya’ ever want to drop in, at any time, yer’ welcome in this village. Far as I’m concerned that room you were stayin’ in is yers for free if ya’ ever come back’.”

Weiss chuckled. “Thank you. I’m happy to hear it. I’d like to return. Perhaps if I get the chance, when all this business is over and done with, I’ll come back.”

The man nodded his head.

And with that, Weiss was off.

Or, well, she’d thought she’d be, but the moment she left the inn, she found herself practically swarmed by the many people she’d helped over the course of the last few days.

A few lamented that she had to go. Most simply smiled, and offered their best wishes. Weiss was… she was quite touched, in truth, that they had gone to such an effort. This was the first time in all her life she felt appreciated, like her actions had genuinely been good for something. Outside of her brief time with Team RWBY.

And wasn’t that a little sad?

She exited out of the town’s borders some fifteen minutes later with a skip in her step, and a determined feeling in her heart.

“Twas’ a rather rewarding experience.” Jaune spoke at her back, where she’d decided to wrap his mirror with some straps. “It has been quite some time since I have done such. I did not get to actually assist, of course, but…”

Weiss nodded, smiling subtly. “Mm. I know what you mean.”

There was a brief silence, then. Weiss interrupted it.

“You said when we first met that working alongside peasants and rabble was ‘unfortunate’. It… doesn’t sound like you felt that way at all.”

“Ah…”

“Why lie?”

“I…” Jaune hesitated. “Because it is in my nature to tell falsehoods.”

“You’ve been honest with me thus far, I feel.”

“Thou hath earned it.”

Weiss… didn’t really know what to say to that.

And so, in silence they walked on, along the path that would, in a few weeks, eventually take them to Mistral.

Little did they know that they’d left at the perfect time.

Little did they know that they were being hunted down.

/

It was only a few hours later that another figured entered into the town of Woodcreek. This man was treated with far more wariness than their previous visitor.

This made sense. The first had been a five foot or so tall girl.

This man was easily eight feet tall.

Hazel Rainart walked with an utter assuredness to his step; a complete lack of concern for any of the figures he passed by. He gazed around, seemingly attempting to locate a landmark of some kind.

His eye caught the sign that indicated the villages’ inn, and he made his way inside.

He had to duck to avoid smacking his head on the arch of the doorway, and as he entered into the room, all conversation died. A few tried to continue their talks, but it was clear all were nervous about what this newcomer wanted.

Hazel approached the front desk, where the man named Spencer was stood, looking quite nervous.

“New ‘round here?”

“I am.” Haze; spoke, his voice commanding a certain level of respect immediately. “I am looking for someone. I do not know their exact description, but they should be carrying a silver mirror, with lapis lazuli gems inlaid within it.”

Instantly, the expression on the face of Spencer changed. Hazel knew enough to recognize that this man knew of his quarry.

Whether or not he would admit to such now… that was the question, wasn’t it?

“Well… I’d ask what you need ‘em for.”

So, he wanted to know whether or not Hazel meant this person harm. The way the other villagers within the inn were staring at him semi-threateningly said to him that the person carrying the mirror had been a rather well-liked individual. Was she in this very village as they spoke?

“I’m looking to meet with her. That mirror she’s carrying is an heirloom of the woman who’s hired me. She is looking to purchase it, and is willing to pay any sum in exchange.”

Spencer’s eyes widened somewhat. “Did W– did the person steal it?”

Their name began with a W, then? There were many that did, which unfortunately didn’t narrow things down.

It gave him a direction to start from, however. A method through which he might gather further information.

“No. My mistress was not aware that it still existed. It had been lost to her long ago. Whoever has it now must have found it somewhere. She does not think them a thief. She merely wants the mirror back in her hands.”

“Ah, that’s good.” Spencer sighed out. “Well… if that’s all ya’ need ‘em for, then…”

He gestured for Hazel to follow him out of the inn, and Hazel did so. He led him to the western edge of the village, and pointed down a path that led that way.  

“Said she was lookin’ to head to Vale, she did.” Spencer told him. “Stayed long enough to earn some lien and supplies for the journey, and then took off. Left first thing this morning. If you’re quick, you’ll probably be able to catch her by the end of the day.”

“I see.” Hazel nodded his head, before reaching to his back pocket and bringing out roughly fifteen thousand lien. It was more than Spencer had ever seen at one time before in his life, almost three times more. “For your trouble.”

Spencer nodded blankly as the innumerable cards of money were dropped into his hand.

“T-Thank y–”

But the giant of a man was already gone, running at a pace that would’ve surely exhausted him in just a few minutes.

Or, well… it would’ve exhausted a normal man.

And while Spencer didn’t think his instincts were perfect…

He knew that had been no normal man.

He’d gotten a bad vibe. A real bad vibe. And that was precisely why he’d told him that Weiss had gone the opposite way she had.

She’s mixed up in somethin’ awful, ain’t she? He wondered, biting down on his lower lip. Said she was investigatin’ the fall of Beacon, and Vale… now someone comes lookin’ for ‘er?

Spencer shook his head, even as he looked to the east, the direction Weiss had actually gone.

You stay safe, girl. Run, and keep runnin’…

Cause there’s somethin’ on your tail.

Chapter Text

Weiss was honestly feeling pretty good by the time they hit the next village a few days later.

There had been something rewarding about helping the people of Woodcreek with their problems. Something that had Weiss walking with an assuredness to her steps as she marched into a village that looked rather similar in scope.

To be fair, it seemed to be doing a lot better than Woodcreek had been in terms of population. The people here were healthier, burlier, and generally seemed to be taking care of themselves better. For a moment, Weiss questioned why that was, though the truth of the matter came to her not too long after that.

This place was far closer to Mistral than Woodcreek was.

She wasn’t planning on sticking around for a long time. She had to make it to Mistral sometime in the next century, and that meant actively moving towards it. If all she was worried about was avoiding her father’s gaze, then she could’ve likely stopped in Woodcreek and been done with it.

But she had a team to catch up to.

So, she went about getting her affairs – which was to say her supplies – in order.

She stopped at first at the inn, where she purchased a warm meal, her first in several days. She had been coddled her whole life – she was not so immature as to be unable to admit that – but the thing she missed most about the Schnee Manor were the cooks.

Even just having a cold drink to go along with her meals had become something to relish. Out in the wilderness, unless one wanted to waste energy on something inconsequential, then they couldn’t really afford to have cold – or hot for that matter – anything.

All she was eating was porridge, with some bread and a glass of ale.

But it was warm porridge, and cold ale.

The bread was fresh, seemingly just cut.

It was almost heaven.

She left the inn around half an hour later, thanking the proprietor. She wished she could have left a sizable tip via her father’s funds, but…

Well, that wasn’t an option on account of her cards being back in the Branwen camp. And honestly, knowing her father, he’d have cut her off the moment she disappeared.

Still, she had some money, so she left a good enough tip by the inn’s standards, and made her way towards…

Well, an honest to goodness shop.

She was a bit surprised to find one just… existing within the village. That wasn’t to say it was a crazy thing; most places had shops, but most of the villages she’d stopped in at during her journey to Mistral hadn’t had enough people to really consider bothering. They supported one another via goods and services, and lien normally fell by the wayside.

Not here, it seemed.

“What can I do you for, Missy?” The man at the shop she’d entered into asked.

Weiss went through a rather standard collection of supplies, and was happy to find that each was stocked, and that none were listed for too abhorrent a price.

That wasn’t to say they were good deals, for they very much weren’t. But given that Weiss didn’t exactly have any options, being in the middle of nowhere without anywhere else within a good fifty kilometers, she wasn’t too upset. After all, she felt the man probably could have charged double what he was, and she wouldn’t have had a choice in the matter but to buy.

She left the shop glad to feel an added weight on her back.

Well, an added weight aside from the mirror that she had recently begun carrying along on her back as well.

And speaking of that mirror…

“So,” Jaune coughed to get her attention. “Thou informed me even before we arrived in Woodcreek that we were nearing Mistral, and yet we have walked for quite a long time even after passing that village without ever reaching the city. Thusly, I ask again, are we nearing Mistral?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Weiss let out with a sigh. “Things are a bit bigger than they were in your time. At least in terms of scale. We have to cross an entire continent. That’s no small task. Were there not distant lands in ages gone by?”

“There were, I suppose.” Jaune seemed to give her that. “The Lands of deserts, and snowfall. The Lands of jungle, and rain. We lived in the Lands of Light, of course. There also existed the Lands of Dark. Though living in that particular land was often… discouraged, so to speak, by the fact that its regular denizens attempted to eat you.”

Weiss chuckled. “I’d imagine.”

Jaune seemed mildly surprised that she’d laughed at what he’d said, and for a moment, he paused. Weiss wasn’t really sure why.

“A-Anyhow,” Jaune cleared his throat, “Yes, we had such lands. Journeys to them were often long, and dangerous. Even without the Grimm wandering the lands, there existed bandits, ruffians, and soldiers of other kingdoms.”

Weiss’ interest was piqued. “Other kingdom’s soldiers? Were they your enemies?”

“Not necessary enemies, but it was often…” Jaune paused a moment. “Things were tense, back then. Without delving too deeply into the topic, essentially, the nobility had begun to overstep their bounds in a variety of Kingdoms, testing what they could and could not get away with, and then exploiting those very loopholes. As a result, tensions were running high. It felt like all it would take was a single spark to ignite the veritable powder keg that was the world of that time. Even normal travelers might be mistaken for enemy combatants by those thinking they were going to be attacked.”

“So… even a band of travelers could have set the entire world off?”

“More than could have; they did. Not among the lands of the Lords of Light, of course, for I would not have allowed as such. But in the land of the desert, a traveling caravan was thought by another’s army to be ferrying supplies to a rival kingdom. The reasoning behind such, as far as was reported to me, was that they had been forced off their normal route by a sandstorm. Because of that, they looked to be coming and going from far different directions than they would normally. They were slaughtered to the man, and when it was found out what had happened… well, it sparked a war that engulfed the entirety of the Land of Desert in conflict.”

Weiss winced as they left the village they’d briefly stopped within. “It sounds like your world was hanging on the precipice of collapse.”

“That would be because it was.” Jaune sighed, and it was clear there was a story there that he didn’t want to get into. “Suffice it to say that things were even worse than I can possibly describe. The gods had begun to grow absent. The Kings and Kingdoms of the world grew more and more concerned with conquest, instead of the lives of their subjects. It seemed to me, at least, that the world might very well go up in flames any day. Of course, before that could happen, Salem and Ozma arrived. And you know the story from there.”

It was obvious he was skipping over something. Jaune had secrets he didn’t want to reveal to her, but that was fine in Weiss’ opinion. She, too, had things she would not tell him, and she did not begrudge him his not wanting to share his own.

Instead, the two of them gradually lost themselves in conversation as the road stretched out beyond them. In the distance, on the edge of the horizon, Mistral grew ever closer.

/

Honestly, Ruby Rose felt that things had gone pretty well in terms of making it to Mistral.

And like, sure, they’d run into a destroyed village, had to deal with a guy sent by the evil queen of the Grimm, had to deal with that guy nearly killing uncle Qrow, and then had to deal with a revenant from Ren and Nora’s past…

But other than that, they’d done quite well for themselves!

Currently, they were staying within a house close to Haven, which was apparently owned by Lionheart. It was a modest, but overall nice place. The real problem was that they’d been cooped up within it for the last week, without any real chance to go out and explore Mistral proper, and Ruby was growing very bored.

Lionheart had assured them that that they should stay hidden away in case any of Salem’s goons happened to be around, but Ruby had her doubts.

There were seven of them there. It was herself, Nora, Ren, Pyrrha, uncle Qrow, and Jasmine, alongside the newest arrival in Oscar. The fact that Oscar was technically their dead headmaster inside the body of a 14-year-old boy was something that Ruby was choosing not to think about too hard.

That way laid insanity. That or actually accepting the fact that the world was really that weird.

Ruby wasn’t sure which was worse.

Apart from their accommodations, not much had changed among their group. Ren and Nora were still exactly the same as they’d always been; which was to say that they were pretending they weren’t interested in each other while being very obviously interested in each other.

Things didn’t get any easier with Jasmine and Pyrrha, either, the former of whom was entirely oblivious to the fact that the latter was head over heels for her. It was obvious enough to the point that uncle Qrow, having only known the two for maybe a day whilst they’d been carrying his poisoned body along, had immediately been able to pick out Pyrrha’s ‘subtle’ crush.

Ruby tried not to judge her, given that Pyrrha hadn’t exactly grown up with the same kind of childhood that the rest of them had. She’d grown up surrounded by sponsors, sycophants, and people doing their absolute best to bring her down a notch.

A normal school girl crush was perhaps the most terrifying foe she’d ever faced in her life.

Ruby just wished she could make it a little less obvious for the rest of them.

“So, Jasmine,” Pyrrha coughed into one hand as she approached the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl, Jasmine Arc. “I was thinking… perhaps the two of us could retire for the evening by going to see a movie, and getting a bite to eat?”

“That sounds great!” The easy-going leader of Team JNPR responded, smiling widely, and Pyrrha seemed giddy for all of half a second. “We can invite Ren and Nora too! Make a whole night of it!”

“Y-Yes…” Pyrrha’s expression was so pained that Ruby felt a little bad. “That… that sounds lovely.”

Oscar, who had known Pyrrha and Jasmine for all of a few days, ran a hand down his face in exasperation.

“That girl has the density of a neutron star.” He muttered below his breath, and Ruby was inclined to agree, whether or not Jasmine was one of her best friends or not. “Wait, what even is a neutron star?” He paused a moment, seemingly having asked Ozpin inside his head.

Ruby decided to zone Oscar out as he learned about celestial bodies from the companion in his head. Instead, she headed towards where Uncle Qrow had been resting, sleeping off the last little bits of fatigue from when he’d been poisoned.

The door was open, but Ruby still gave him the courtesy of a knock on the door frame as she stepped in.

“Ah, hey Rubes.” He rasped out from his position on the bed, the bags hanging around his eyes and the paleness of his face speaking more than he ever could about how he wasn’t yet back at one-hundred percent. “Whatcha’ up to?”

“Nothing really.” She admitted, stepping into the room and sitting down at the end of Qrow’s bed. “Bored, honestly? We’ve been sitting in this place for at least a week, waiting for Lionheart to call us in, and yet he still hasn’t said a word.”

“Yeah, well…” Qrow sighed. “Try to be a bit more patient, although I do see the irony in me, of all people, saying that. Lionheart’s a good man, he’ll be doing his absolute best to help us out.”

Ruby was sure that Uncle Qrow was right, but in that moment, she couldn’t help but remember that his semblance was bad luck, and she idly wondered that if by saying such things, he was quite literally cursing them.

Eh, probably not.

“So, do we have anything planned for the next few days?”

“Other than bedrest?” Qrow laughed at her pain. “No, kid. We have sitting here and pretending we don’t exist on the docket. Not much else.”

“Ugh…” Ruby ran a hand down her face. “I mean, I know we don’t want to reveal ourselves to any of the members of Salem’s faction that might be in the area, but can’t we at least go shopping or something!?”

“I thought Jasmine and that Pyrrha chick were finally going out?”

“Nope,” Ruby lamented. “Jasmine somehow misconstrued that as an invitation to go out to dinner… with her whole team.”

“Wow.” Qrow’s eyes were wide. “That’s a special brand of dense.”

“Hey, that’s my best friend you’re talking about!”

“And do you deny it?”

“Well…” She coughed awkwardly. “…No.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Qrow snickered. “I’d have thought that Pyrrha almost biting it back on top of the Beacon Spire would’ve had you a bit more cautious.”

“Eh, she was fine.” Ruby waved a hand.

“She got shot with an arrow through the chest, Rubes.”

“And she was fine!”

“Like, straight through her spine. The fact that she’s totally fine isn’t just shocking, it’s flabbergasting. Plus, didn’t that Cinder chick try and disintegrate her?”

“She got better.”

“Uh-huh.” Qrow stated flatly. “Well, remind me again to contact whatever doctors operated on her to do any work I need done in the future.”

/

Out in the living room, Jasmine Arc sneezed.

“Are you alright?” Pyrrha asked her.

“Oh, yeah, no. Totally fine.” She laughed. “Definitely nothing suspicious going on!”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Pyrrha said in return.

No one suspected a thing.

/

“Speaking of, are you going to tell me what it was that I did up there, when I nearly vaporized Cinder with my eyes?”

It was Qrow’s turn to clam up. “Nope.”

“I mean, I know it has something to do with my eyes.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The first thing Ozpin said to me when we met was that I had Silver Eyes.”

“Non-sequitur. Completely unrelated.”

“Somehow I don’t think it is.”

“Ah, I’m so tired.” Qrow faked a yawn. “Looks like I’ve got to sleep.”

Ruby just groaned. “Yes, I’m sure with how old you’re getting, you’re going to start needing more and more of it.”

“Hey!”

She stuck out her tongue at her uncle as she left the room, stepped back into the living space with the others.

She ended up arriving to a conversation in progress. Ren and Nora seemed to be discussing the other members of Team RWBY, and where they were at that time.

“So, Yang’s getting back on her feet in Patch, yeah?” Nora asked.

“I do believe that’s correct, yes.” Ren confirmed.

“And then Weiss got kidnapped by her older sister and taken back to Atlas.”

“I don’t know if it’s considered kidnapping when your older sister and family are worried about your health after a terrorist attack, but that is generally correct, certainly.”

“And then Blake just sort of…” Nora held her right hand up over her left palm, and then made her pointer and middle fingers wiggle back and forth. “Ran off?”

“…Yes, that does seem like what happened.”

Nora seemed to notice her then, for she wore a guilty expression as Ruby came over, and sat down with them.

“Er… sorry, Ruby.”

“It’s fine.” She told Nora, and she did mean it. “It’s not like it’s not true. Blake’s my teammate, and I love her, but she did run off after what happened with Yang and that Adam guy.”

“Mm.” Nora frowned. “Left Yang down an arm, and she broke her heart!”

“Huh?”

“Wait, you haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“Never mind then!” Nora suddenly smacked her hands together, all smiles. Said smiles were a bit too saccharine to be believable. “Anyways, Ren and I were thinking about who among them might be the most likely to come and join us first.”

Ruby considered that for a moment. “I’d say either Yang, or Weiss.”

“Why them?”

“Well, Yang just needed a bit to get herself back up on her feet.” Ruby spoke, and she meant it. “She’ll be coming. She’s not the type to let me go stick my neck into something like this without being there.”

Nora smiled. “And Weiss?”

“She’s stubborn.”

“…That’s it?”

“You’d be surprised how stubborn she is.” Ruby chuckled. “Stubborn to the point where if she wants to do something, she’ll move heaven and earth to make it happen. She’ll make it to us, I’m confident in that.”

“And what about Blake?”

Ruby thought for a moment. “…Blake has her own things to work out. I’m sure she’ll come and find us when she’s ready.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Nora seemed skeptical. “If by ‘her own things to work out’ you mean that she’s going to find somewhere she can fight the White Fang, then sure, yeah, I totally agree.”

Ruby felt the need to defend her teammates honor. “Blake’s not that bad! I’m sure that wherever she is, she’s staying out of trouble.”

/

Bullets pinged off of the metal beam just in front of her, and Blake Belladonna bit down on her bottom lip as she loaded another clip into Gambol Shroud. Ahead, the White Fang grunts were doing their best to pin her down, to surround her and eliminate her.

But she wasn’t going to allow that. She’d come here to expose their secrets to the people of Menagerie. To show them that they were who Blake said they were.  

And she wasn’t going to be turned away.

Not a chance.

/

“Do you… actually believe that?” Nora asked, seeming genuinely curious.

Ruby did her best to hold her feelings in. She tried as hard as she could. She managed to make it a full three seconds.

She then sighed. “…No.”

“Yeah.” Nora snickered. “I kind of figured.”

Ren chuckled quietly under his breath, even as Jasmine and Pyrrha discussed something behind her. Knowing them, it was Pyrrha getting down on one knee, bringing out a small velvet box, and asking the woman to marry her, and Jasmine somehow construing that to mean that Pyrrha was interested in someone else.

And then, just sort of randomly…

A black and red… thing appeared in front of Ruby.

She shot back away from it with her Semblance, and brought Crescent Rose off of her back, pointing her weapon right at it. The others had similar reactions. Pyrrha shielded Jasmine behind her, Ren placed a hand on top of Magnhild and gently urged the grenade launcher down, given that they were in a small, enclosed space, and Nora realized that a moment later.

And then, without any real pomp and circumstance…

Someone stepped out of the red, swirling mass.

Someone with blonde hair, indigo eyes, and a look of complete and total confusion on her face.

“…YANG!?” Ruby felt her response was appropriate.

“Oh, uh… hey, sis.” Yang Xiao-Long, her sister who she’d been pretty sure had, up until about five seconds ago, not been there in their crappy house, waved her hand awkwardly. “…Sup?”

“Huh.” Nora remarked under her breath. “Guess Yang won after all.”

The next ten or so minutes were lost in a cacophony of shouting, disbelief, and Yang having to deal with the fact that Oscar had Ozpin in his head – “No, seriously, what the fuck?”

“Okay, so…” Ruby felt a little dumbstruck. “You met your mother?”

“Yeah, and my replacement.” She huffed out under her breath, and immediately, Ruby decided that was something she wasn’t going to be touching with a twelve-foot pole. “Some woman named Vernal. She was maybe my age. She and my mom slept in the same bed. I mean, seriously, can you believe that? She abandons me when I’m a baby, and then goes and cuddles some other–”

“Er… Yang?” Jasmine chimed in, couching awkwardly under her breath. “You said before that you weren’t mad about that whole thing?”

“Mad? What? Who’s mad? Why would I be mad about that bitch stealing my mom? Frankly, who gives a shit? I don’t give a shit!”

“Uh-huh.” Jasmine whispered awkwardly. “I’ll uh… I’ll take your word for it.”

“Anyways,” Ruby cleared her throat. “We were talking about that weird… what was it?”

“Yeah, the incident with the mirror, right?”

Ruby nodded her head; glad they could get back on topic. Yang’s… issues with her mother were a discussion for another time.

“You say that whatever occurred at the Branwen camp was, at least according to Raven, due to the influence of some seemingly magical mirror?”

Ruby looked over, and was surprised to see that it was Oscar who had spoken. Or no, that wasn’t quite right.

It was Ozpin who’d spoken, simply through Oscar’s voice.

The look on his face, though… it was guarded. His mouth was drawn tightly, and his brow was furrowed.

“Yeah, that’s what she said.” Yang shrugged her shoulders. “She said there was some guy in there who was somehow connected to this weird evil witch lady she made up named Salem.”

Oscar’s face went through a plethora of emotions in that moment. It… was an odd thing to see on someone so young, for many of those expressions were those of someone much older, someone haunted with regrets and memories.

“And you are certain of this?”

“I mean, I wasn’t there, but that’s what she said?” Yang seemed confused. “Do you actually believe that story? That Weiss is working alongside the Queen of the Grimm?”

“I do not believe that that is the case, no.” Ozpin shook his head. “It is more… there is much more at play here than you know. Raven thought that it was Salem’s influence simply because she had nothing else to compare that feeling to. She must have felt magic.”

“So…” Ruby felt a bit awkward interrupting, but she was too curious not to. “Is this like the Maiden’s?”

“I’m afraid it is far older, and far more dangerous than the maidens.” Ozpin spoke, and it was said in such a way that a chill ran down Ruby’s spine. “The man who lurks within that mirror…  is someone who was sealed away at the very dawn of this world. Someone who wielded the same potency of magics that I and Salem once did. I had thought him long gone. He… has not been seen in several… well, in a very long time.”

Everyone at the table seemed to be growing more and more nervous about Ozpin’s words. He seemed almost scared. Ruby didn’t think she’d ever seen the man like that. Even when he’d been about to die at Cinder’s hands in the bowels of Beacon Academy, he had stepped forward to defend both Jasmine and Pyrrha without a second thought.

And yet, somehow, this scared him.

Ruby didn’t like that very much.

Jasmine seemed to be rather scared herself, muttering under her breath as Pyrrha placed her hands on the woman’s shoulders to comfort her. Ruby couldn’t make out what was being said, but it sounded something like “were real.”

“That he has suddenly reappeared now fills me with an uncertain dread.” Ozpin admitted. “And seemingly, from the sound of Raven’s report, heading towards Mistral.”

Ruby wasn’t the only one to have wide eyes at that.

“What makes you think he and Weiss are coming this way?” Yang asked.

“Because why else would they be moving on the continent of Anima?” Ozpin asked, and it seemed to be a rhetorical question. “What other reason would there be for them to be here? If he desired simply to grow more powerful, there were many in Atlas he could have swung to his side with dark magics. No, his goal, whatever it might be, lies here, within Mistral. It simply must.”

“And… how powerful is this man?” Ruby had to ask.

“Rather luckily, he is from the sound of things still trapped within that mirror. That means that any application of force he might otherwise have access to is limited. Still, I would urge all of you exercise caution. This is an evil long since forgotten by this world. An evil that once threatened it at the dawn of civilization. This is an enemy that was almost beyond me in my prime. I am certain that even now, to banish it once more from this world will take all of us in tandem to accomplish.”

There was a general murmur of nervousness at that.

“Should we tell Lionheart?” Nora brought up. “I mean, doesn’t he deserve to know if there’s a threat headed for his city?”

“I will go and speak with Leonardo on my own.” Ozpin spoke, standing from his place at that table with a hasty breath. “You are very much correct, Ms. Valkyrie; he must be warned. The rest of you, stay here, and stay quiet.”

“Could it be that he’s coming here because Weiss wants to see us?”

It was an oddly random thing for Ruby to suddenly bring up, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Ms. Rose?” Ozpin turned back towards her.

“I just mean… Wouldn’t it add up for Weiss to travel to Mistral if she wanted to escape her father’s clutches, and meet up with us? It seems like she’d be killing two birds with one stone with that.”

“That is to imply that Weiss has somehow managed to avoid the Dread King’s influence.” Ozpin spoke, sighing. “But I have seen for myself great men and women succumb to his honeyed words, and silver tongue. They held no hope of retaining their wills against him. They subscribed to his horrid ideals in single conversations with the man. I fear that Weiss has likely succumbed to such powers as well.”

Ruby felt a pang of terror flit through her. “Does that mean–”

“Fear not, Miss Rose.” Ozpin, for the first time in the conversation, seemed to present a hint of confidence. “Such control is in no way permanent. All we must do to win back your friend is to separate her from that mirror. If we can break the Dread King’s spell over her, then we will save her as well.”

She let out a breath of relief, hearing that Weiss wasn’t lost to them. She’d… she’d been concerned, she’d admit, but this…

This sounded like something they could handle.

“But do not grow complacent.” Ozpin rebuked them immediately as their spirits rose. “This enemy once roused an entire Kingdom to his side, laying to waste all that stood before him. He utilized magics the likes of which were never seen, and should not be seen, again. He is more formidable than I, and perhaps even more formidable than Salem.”

“We must prepare. For when he does arrive in Mistral…”

“This Kingdom may very well fall at his feet.”

/

“She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she cooomes!”

Weiss Schnee, former heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, and all-around good person – in her opinion – couldn’t help but think she’d done nothing to deserve this.

“She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she cooomes!”

Had she gone wrong somewhere? Broken a sacred creed? Defied the gods of this world? Angered the universe? It felt like the easiest explanation, for the scenario she found herself in was truly something that one might have experienced within hell itself.

“She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain, she’ll be coming ‘round the mountain, she’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she coooomes!”

“I never should have said anything.” Weiss hissed out, filled with naught but regret. “I should’ve kept my damned mouth shut and let you stew in boredom.”

“Oh, come now, angel of freshly fallen snow–”

She glared at him.

“Come now, Weiss,” Jaune corrected from his position on her back. “Tis a wondrous tune thou hath shared with me! In fact, I think I might sing it once again!”

“Please do not–”

“She’ll be comin’ around the mountain when she coooomes!”

Weiss sobbed silently into her hands.

Chapter Text

A few hours out from the City of Mistral, camped out in the woods deep enough that the smoke from their small fires would not be seen, two dozen members of the White Fang laid in wait.

It was cold, given how late it was in the evening. The sun would crest the horizon in but a few hours. The faunus, of course, cared not for the lack of light, and operated best when in the dark, where their human adversaries could not.

And on this night, Adam Taurus was rather deep in thought.

He was not thinking in specifics, to be clear. All around him, the men and women of the White Fang bustled about in quiet preparation. They were making ready for the assault on Haven that their… sponsor had planned for them. Adam wasn’t particularly keen about the optics of attacking a second Hunter Academy, but if he wanted to bring about a revolution for faunus-kind, then some sacrifices had to be made.

It was the same as with Sienna Khan. She had been a valuable ally to Adam for years, but in the end, she had lacked the stomach for the path they needed to tread. She would not have allowed him to steer the White Fang away from her ideals.

And so, he’d had no choice but to eliminate her entirely.

She had been buried with full honors, treated as the revered hero she truly was. Adam had seen to it personally.

He’d owed the woman that much, at least.

Officially, she had been killed by spies from Atlas and abroad within the White Fang. Adam wasn’t sure how many among the White Fang actually bought such a story, but the people of Menagerie did, and it had them in an uproar, one which Adam’s men were doing their best to stoke the flames of.

From what he’d heard, their efforts back on Menagerie were progressing well. Ilia was heading up things, with the Albain Brothers around to act as both support, and a set of eyes and ears for Adam while he was away.

He had… not necessarily doubts about Ilia, but he certainly wasn’t sure she was as on board with his mission as she claimed to be.

He shook his head, looking up from sharpening Wilt to see the others about their camp relaxing, preparing for the mission ahead. He only had a few serious soldiers among his retinue. Mostly, they were fresh recruits from in and around Mistral, those who saw the glory of their cause and wanted to be a part of it.

They would be nothing but liabilities in the mission to come, but then, Adam didn’t plan on them actually doing much of anything in terms of fighting.

That would be handled by Cinder’s people – or, he supposed, the people of whomever it was that commanded her. If everything went well, the fresh-faced soldiers with him wouldn’t even need to act, let alone engage in combat.

Still, he’d not brought only newbies. Such would have been foolhardy. One of the people he’d brought along with him was a trusted scout, someone who’d been serving alongside Adam for as long as he himself had been in the White Fang. Intelligence was one of those things one couldn’t do without.

So it was with some surprise that Adam regarded the man as he barreled into camp, panting drastically. Adam rose, sheathing drawing Blush from off of his hip along with Wilt, assuming that they’d been found.

He had rather notably not been expecting…

“There’s a Schnee!”

Adam wasn’t the only one among their number entirely caught off guard by that, it seemed. The camp rocketed to their feet. More than a few of them stopped what they’d been doing and abandoned everything else, seeing a far more important task on the horizon.

“Explain.” Adam stepped forward.

“I… I don’t know how or why, but–” His scout was evidently flabbergasted. “It’s just… Weiss Schnee, walking down the path to Mistral. No guards; nothing!”

Adam couldn’t quite believe that they were that lucky. “You must have seen someone else. A Schnee would not–”

“That’s the thing, sir,” His scout interrupted. “I didn’t believe my eyes at first, either. So, I did a cursory search through some of our news reports for the past week, and apparently Weiss Schnee fled Atlas a few weeks back. She’s missing, and was apparently headed for Mistral City.”

Adam still didn’t believe it, but he was… perhaps a bit more willing to entertain the possibility. He signaled to a few of his more serious men and women, and they nodded their heads. They were professionals, and weren’t going to jump at the first white-haired human who passed them just because they vaguely resembled a Schnee.

They didn’t need some random civilian from Mistral disappearing, and starting a manhunt that would put Mistral itself on lockdown. Adam refused to be the reason this plan went wrong.

Cinder didn’t precisely scare him, but he had seen what she was capable of, and anyone who could order her around…

Well, Adam wanted to stay on their good side, so to speak.

“The rest of you, stay here.” Adam’s words were as law, and though it was clear each and every one of them wanted to be present if and when the Schnee went down, they dared not question him. “If we are not back within the hour, send a small scout party to locate us.”

The men and women under his command nodded his way, and seeing that, Adam gestured for his scout to lead the way. The man turned around, and practically flew through the thick trunks and branches in the way between them and the more well-trodden paths.

And then, about five minutes later, they made it to the very edge of the tree line, where they were still hidden, but could see out onto the path beyond, and…

“There!” His scout pointed towards the distance, where, sure enough, a white-haired figure walked roughly a hundred meters in front of them. “That’s her!”

Adam… he wasn’t about to fall for this. It was some manner of trick. It had to be. Life had never once given him anything but sources of grief and pain. For it to suddenly thrust a Schnee into his lap, without a thing standing in his way?

He could not believe such a turnaround. Wouldn’t fall for it.

Still, he gave the signal for them to follow him, and together, they caught up with the woman over the course of the next few minutes. They were quiet, and stuck to the high ground they had. Giving themselves away now would give the Schnee – if she was a Schnee – the chance to escape, and if a civilian saw them, then they’d have no choice but to kill them to keep things quiet.

And yet, as they made it past the woman, and took a place on the top of a hill adjacent to the path, Adam got his first good look at the woman’s face.

And…

“It’s her,” His voice came out disbelieving, almost faint.

A moment later, his entire demeanor shifted.

He took a breath, and steadied himself. He looked towards both sides of his formation, and gave his men the signal to surround the target. As they moved back and away to do just that, Adam looked back down at the bastard Schnee walking directly past them.

She wouldn’t even know what hit her. Alive one moment and gone the next.

It was too good for her, for a Schnee; to not feel the agony her family had inflicted on his people.

But Adam wasn’t going to take any chances.

After all, he’d waited for this for far too long.

/

All in all, Weiss was starting to get a little bit tired of this whole… walking thing.

She’d been doing so for well over a week straight since leaving Woodcreek. At this point, she’d grown aggravated enough that she was moving around even during the nights, just wanting to make progress, eschewing safety to hopefully hit Mistral within this century.

Which, y’know, wasn’t smart, but then, she was having a rough few days, so sue her.

That was, if anyone asked, also her explanation for how she reacted so late to the rustling of the trees off to her right. Her mind was numbed by doing the same thing over and over again for multiple days, and nothing at all happening.

When she did notice, her eyes narrowed and her breath caught. She couldn’t truly identify the shapes moving about in the trees above her, and yet she had a feeling they were not friendly. If they were, they would have simply come out and introduced themselves. Or, if they were Grimm, they’d have simply attacked her already.

That meant that whomever this was, they were smart enough to stick to the shadows.

And that boded poorly.

“Be on your guard.” Jaune suddenly spoke, his voice wary. “Something lurks just beyond that tree line.”

“I know.” Weiss hissed out. “I don’t suppose you have any spells that can make me faster?”

“I do, just not any that I can use past this enchantment.” Jaune spoke from her back. “I’m afraid anything that I must directly cast upon you cannot make it past the mirror. It is only those more area-based attacks that can escape from my prison, and affect the outside world.”

“Okay, do you have any of those?”

“I just might. Though you’ll have to give me a moment.”

“How long is a moment?”

“We shall certainly see, shan’t we?”

She grumbled out under her breath about that, but broke out into a slow jog. She was being watched, tracked. Likely, stalked.

It had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, and a chill running down through her spine. Ancient instincts the likes of which the human race had reserved purely for the Grimm came to the forefront, and she placed her hand on her weapon, preparing to draw it.

“I’m going to make an attempt to get away/”

“That’s likely a good idea.” Jaune responded. “I would advise you be quick about it. I can sense the general emotions of the people up there. They are growing more and more antsy. They wish to strike out at you.”

Weiss tried to run through a list of people in her head that might fit that description, and one stuck out to her as the most obvious.

The White Fang.

She conjured a set of glyphs in front of her, and started running. She heard shouting from off to her right, and knew that if she did not get away, combat was in her future. She was on her own, however, without her team. She might have been able to, but today, on her own, she didn’t want to find out if she was capable of doing so alone the hard way.

She leapt atop the first glyph, and commanded it to sail forward. It did so at an alarming speed, rocketing her to the next glyph, atop which she repeated the earlier process. She was actually fairly certain she was going to get away, up until she felt a sharp pain strike against her right leg, and the sound of a shot rang out through the small valley she was sailing over.

She hissed out below her breath as she looked down to see the wound. Her aura had been up, but unfocused, and it had allowed the bullet to sink in much deeper than it would have normally. It hadn’t pierced further than an inch, but that was enough to strike against muscle, and to severely hamper her maneuverability.

She channeled her aura as best she could on the wound, even as she allowed her glyphs to continue carrying her forward. In her head, she was weighing her options.

The simple truth was that her glyphs were going to rapidly drain her aura. If she were to use her aura purely on her glyphs, then she would be banking on the idea that she could get far enough away that her assailants couldn’t catch her.

Before her leg had been injured, that might have been a viable strategy. But once her aura was exhausted, she wasn’t going to be able to run. It didn’t help that she’d not slept for nearly fourteen hours at this point. She couldn’t manage a few hours of running at speed.

As terrible an idea as it seemed, she very well might need to just stand her ground, and fight.

“Jaune, you’d better be quick about whatever it is you’re doing!” She pushed out between clenched teeth, the pain radiating up her leg and her general anger at her situation combining to make her rather irritable.

“I’m working on it. Buy me as much time as you can.”

She groaned, but acquiesced. At the very least, she could buy as much distance with the glyphs that she had already summoned as possible. After that, she could use her summons to try and keep them away from her.

Unfortunately, past that, she was fresh out of options.

Still, she had to work with what she had. So, once she was out of glyphs, she jumped down to the dirt road below her, and took a battle stance, allowing her Arma Gigas to come into being behind her, both shielding her from attacks from behind and acting as an intimidating threat towards those in front of them, its massive blade poised to strike at those in front of her.

And yet the figure who ended up stepping in front of Weiss then was not at all one she’d anticipated seeing. She had only heard his description from the news multiple times as a child, or whispered words from those who worked in the manor.

But his appearance, that of red hair, twin horns, and a white mask…

This was Adam Taurus.

“Well, well, well,” Adam spoke, his voice surprisingly nasally for a man of his stature and position. “You seem lost, Schnee. Don’t worry, we’ll soon be sending you back home to hell.”

She gritted her teeth together, trying to come up with a plan. As odd as it was, her best bet was likely to keep Adam talking. Let him rant at her, let him give some grand speech about all of her sins. Anything to buy Jaune more time.

“You imply that I’m some demon,” Weiss spoke out under her breath. “As if I had any choice in the matters that my father got up to while I was just a child.”

“Perhaps not. Perhaps what you are saying is completely true. Perhaps you are innocent. But even so, you must understand that you stand for something simply by existing; the Schnee name rests around your shoulders like a poisonous laurel. And expunging one bearer of that name from this world will serve as ammunition for our cause; as fuel for the fires of faunuskind, allowing us to push through the ice and snows of this world where we would otherwise freeze.”

He was, unsurprisingly, a rather good talker. Weiss had known he would be, of course, but he had a certain air to his words that made them sound so very grand. He spoke with an elegant prose, and if Weiss didn’t know he was a mass murderer, she’d have said he might make for a good poet.

“My father would likely pay a steep sum to have me returned to him. I am a runaway, after all. Name your price, and he’d pay it.”

“I do not want your money, Schnee; tainted as it is with the blood of my people.” Adam shook his head. “I want only your life. Make no mistake, nothing you can offer has any meaning to me but that.”

Weiss pursed her lips, her hand tightening on the hilt of Myrtenaster. Her leg was still aching, but then, she was also buying time for her aura to patch up the wound. Surely, the White Fang with Adam were working to surround her on all sides, make her escape impossible, but she’d abandoned escape as a means of avoiding death already.

They were simply playing into her hands.

“Very well…” She murmured once her leg felt suitable enough for battle, and realizing that Adam wasn’t going to say anything else. “Then come and take it.”

Adam, seemingly amused at her resolve, just shrugged. “As you say.”

He was in her guard in the next moment.

Weiss reacted far slower than she would have liked, narrowly evading the strike that would have taken a chunk from out of her aura, and striking out with her Arma Gigas’ blade all in one motion. Adam dodged that, and she was briefly taken aback by his speed. At a glance, she would have said he was a match for Winter in that alone, closing great gaps with what seemed like single bounds.

Of course, things were not that simple.

From behind her, two White Fang grunts raised their weapons; automatic rifles, it seemed. A single flick of Her Arma Gigas’ blade sent the both of them careening into a nearby hill, and neither of them moved again after that, their auras broken.

There were still many others, however, and Adam of course as the centerpiece of their attack. The man was being cautious now, his initial plan on ending the battle quickly having failed. That was good for Weiss. If they saw her defeat as a surefire thing, they might drag this whole affair out in order to minimize their own risk.

And that played rather nicely into Weiss’ – and Jaune’s – hands.

“How much longer!?” She hissed out below her breath as she dodged backwards.

“Not long now!” Jaune called back, and Weiss sighed, but settled in for the long haul.

She wasn’t quite sure what ‘not long’ would mean to Jaune, and she had a bad feeling that it was going to be about as inconvenient as possible for her in terms of timing, if she managed to survive that long at all.

It was funny; she’d been faced with the possibility of her death more in the past few months than she had in her entire life. She’d grown almost used to the feeling, as harrowing as that was to think.

Back at Beacon, her hands had shaken, and her decisions had been slow. If she had taken any longer, Velvet might very well have died back then before she could have done a thing.

But she’d acted just in time. She’d made a choice.

Here she was again, doing just that.

Adam backed away this time, allowing the others to take point. She wasn’t stupid enough to not recognize that as some kind of ploy. Based on what reports often said about Adam’s semblance, it was some manner of charged attack, one which he could focus on, then unleash to utterly annihilate a target, even through armor-plating or aura.

It was a powerful ability, but one that came with the drawback of requiring set up time.

And if Weiss was going to have any hopes of emerging victorious from this battle, then she would need to abuse that window.

As Adam retreated, Weiss pushed forward. It was rather clearly a move that the White Fang grunts had not expected. One yelped, another raised his weapon and fired poorly. Weiss didn’t give them a moment to gather themselves. If she did, she might not get another.

She batted them aside with her summoned blade, and then swung hard enough to send another flying into the nearby trees. For their sake, she hoped they had aura enough for a landing strategy.

And then–

The world went red.

It was hard to describe. It was as if all color entirely faded from the world. All but a crimson strikingly similar to blood. Weiss felt something deep in her gut, something that told her that this was both unnatural and dangerous.

She was inclined to agree.

She turned towards Adam, because who else would this be, and saw–

Weiss barely had a moment to think. The man was charging up a blow that was certain to hit her. She couldn’t avoid the strike. She had to block it.

But with what? What did she have that could possibly tank the hit? Yang’s aura, far more potent than her own, had been entirely bypassed by the cut.

And then…

Well…

She remembered what she was carrying around on her back.

She let herself fall to her knees, turned her back to Adam, and waited.

She was not left to wait long.

It felt like a blade-like shape had struck her back with the force of a freight train. It was enough to launch her a few meters, rolling to a stop a ways away in the dirt.

She looked up, and saw Adam Taurus wearing a rather confused expression on his face. Clearly, he’d expected that to slice Weiss in two.

But that was the thing.

Jaune’s mirror was entirely unbreakable; cursed to be by the very gods.

She’d highly doubted a particularly deadly semblance was going to be any exception, and she’d been right.

“Soon?” She panted out, asking the mirror on her back.

“Eh.”

“What does ‘eh’ mean!?” She growled back.

“It means that this is taking longer than I thought it would.”

“Why is it– Shit!”

She brought Myrtenaster up just in time, barely deflecting Adam’s initial hit off course, and causing his katana to bury itself in the dirt to her right. She leant in, and smacked the guard of Myrtenaster into Adam’s nose, forcing the man back.

He shook his head, let out an annoyed huff, and then was back on her in a moment.

Before, he’d been trying to play things slow and patient. Now, he had apparently had enough of that. Adam was deadly and precise, but also strong, brutish, and raging. He struck out at odd angles, and hit with the force of a charging bull.

Weiss was buffeted backwards, and nearly sent spiraling to the floor. She bit down on her bottom lip as she forced herself to ignore the pain in her right leg, righting herself with it before she could fall. Gods, but it hurt.

But then, she felt dying would likely be a lot more painful, so she fixated more in on avoiding that.

Adam’s blade came up, as did her own. They collided, and it was clear that Weiss held no chance in a battle of strength. Honestly, her chances in this fight in general were waning as well. Adam had cottoned onto her injury, and was forcing her to block and evade in ways that had her right leg taking the brunt of the impact every time.

Any more of this, and she would collapse.

And then it would be over.

That was exactly what happened just a minute later. Her foot caught a rock on the path just behind her, and she swore even as she fought to get Myrtenaster in Adam’s way.

But the man wasn’t looking to capitalize on her stumble; at least not immediately. Instead, he backed away, and channeled yet another Moonslice.

She swore, but realized that she wasn’t going to be able to turn around in time. Even if she could, Adam wasn’t likely to simply unleash his semblance on the mirror once more. Not when he knew it could not be broken.

Weiss saw the end in the man’s crimson expanse, which grew to cover the entire world. She closed her eyes, braced for agony, and then–

A void.

For just an instant, there was nothing. Like all energy had been sapped from out of their surroundings.

And then, a moment later, everything returned.

Weiss finished stumbling, falling to her feet on the ground beneath her. She didn’t know what had just happened, but she wasn’t going to stay down. She couldn’t, not with Adam right on her heels.

And yet, when she rose, with her sword held outwards in a battle stance, she found Adam Taurus…

On his knees.

What had…

“What…” Adam simply sat there, seemingly dumbfounded.

Weiss realized in that moment what must’ve happened; Jaune’s attack! He’d done it.

Except…

“What did you do, exactly?” She asked with some hesitance.

“Give it a moment, you’ll see.” Jaune said, sounding annoyingly pleased with himself. Weiss didn’t like that much at all.

She turned to see Adam still knelt there, staring down at his hands, which were resting in his lap.

Weiss wasn’t really sure how to broach the topic of the fact that they really should still be fighting. After all, just a moment ago they’d been trying to kill each other. It felt like that had stopped a bit too suddenly.

“What…” Adam said for a second time. “What have I done?”

“Uhm…” Weiss was just confused at this point. “You… tried to attack me?”

“I did.” He spoke, and he sounded almost… regretful? “But that is not all. I have done so many things wrong. I have led so many astray. I myself have become a mere shadow of who I once was, or perhaps it is more accurate to say that the person I used to be no longer exists, devoured and replaced by this… this bastardization I’ve become!”

Weiss couldn’t help feeling like this was all a little bit weird.

Adam looked back up at her, and he took his mask away from his face. Weiss’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the branded symbol of the SDC over his left eye, but…

Far more relevantly, she saw tears streaking down his face.

“How can I…” He shook his head, a sob choking out of him. “How can I possibly make up for what I’ve done?”

Weiss’ eye twitched.

“Jaune.”

“Yes?”

“What did you do?”

“Well, that’s simple.” The man sounded quite proud. “I sapped the evil from him.”

She just stood there, sort of… blankly staring at the now broken-hearted Adam Taurus.

She ripped the mirror off of her back, and stared right into Jaune’s smug-ass face.

“You… what?”

“I took the evil from him and his compatriots.” Jaune explained like it was absolutely nothing to be concerned about. “I balled it up into a spherical shape, and then I threw it off into the distance.”

“What do you mean you threw it!?”

“Well,” Jaune gestured towards the hills off to their left. “I flung it in that general direction.”

Any further thoughts of questioning what Jaune had done were cut off as Adam Taurus stepped towards her, still crying. Weiss raised Myrtenaster, expecting an attack, but…

“Please,” He implored her, and for all that he was a good talker, she couldn’t help but think it was genuine. “You have every reason not to believe what I say to be true, but…”

And then, Adam Taurus, enemy of the SDC, a terrorist who’d murdered thousands, prostrated himself in front of her.

“I beg you for your forgiveness!” He sobbed. “The things I’ve done… the people I’ve hurt… I cannot ask many of them to forgive me, for they are gone from this world. Removed by my own hand. But I can make it up to you, at the very least!”

“Uhm…”

“Please,” Adam looked up at her, and in his eyes – aside from tears – laid a steely expression, filled with naught but determination. “I have naught but this blade in my hands to aid you, but if you would, allow me to accompany you. You shall be safe from harm while I and those who follow me are around.”

“Uhm…”

“There exists no reason not to take this man up on his offer.” Jaune spoke. “He is devoid of evil; devoid of the potential for wrongdoing.”

“That… what!?” Weiss shook her head, utterly flabbergasted. “What is even going on right now!?”

As if to further drive Weiss to insanity, the first of the white fang that she’d knocked out were beginning to rise to their feet, and much like Adam, they too were spilling tears, lamenting their actions.

“How did it all go so wrong?”

“Mother, I’ve failed you!”

“Jermain… we promised we’d make this world a better place, but I…”

Weiss felt more than a little awkward.

“Men!” Adam called to them, and despite the fact that their evil had been taken from them – apparently – each and every one of them responded to Adam’s cry. “I know what it is that lurks now within your hearts. It is the same thing that exists within my own. Regret. Pain. Sadness, and a longing to erase the wrongs we have committed! But the truth is that it is too late for us to undo our past malevolence!”

“What is happening right now!?” Weiss bemoaned.

“I think a rousing speech.” Jaune commented.

“But who we were need not define us!” Adam shouted, and the tears still rolling down his cheeks only added to the intensity of his words. “Who we were need not be who we stay! Who we were need not limit our potential! We are who we choose to be! And I choose to be better! What say you all!?”

“YEAH!” They cheered almost in unison.

“How did you…” Weiss was dumbstruck.

“Ah, the spell itself?” Jaune seemed more than happy to explain. “It had originally been developed to strip all hate from the world, you see. But when the testing phases began on using it for such a purpose, we rapidly discovered that such an application would’ve required an amount of energy akin to the amount of people it was trying to affect. One great and powerful mage might be able to affect two or three people without burning out his life. At most. Thusly, the planned usage for the spell was shelved.”

“However, As I am immortal, my magic cannot burn me out entirely. I simply reform, as good as new.” Jaune noted. “Unfortunately, the area I can affect is linked to how long I must spend charging it. To affect even this small region of a thirty or so meters took me nearly ten full minutes to charge. But that number grows exponentially larger with bigger areas. To affect an area as large as Woodcreek, it would likely take multiple days. A Kingdom? Hah. Hundreds of years, if not longer. I may be immortal, but I am not so patient I’m afraid.”

“That’s great and all,” Weiss hissed. “But what do I do about this!?”

This, of course, referring to the fifteen or so former White Fang members, all of whom were stood in front of her, some with their hands over their hearts, others kneeling in front of her, but all awaiting her words.

“Oh.” Jaune hummed. “On that, I have absolutely no idea.”

“Gee, Jaune, thanks for the huge help.”

Chapter Text

Not much had changed in the five or so minutes following Adam and the White Fang’s sudden turn from evil.

The word ‘sudden’ was really pulling a lot of weight there. Instantaneous would’ve perhaps been more accurate. Jaune had utilized his magic, and quite literally sapped the ‘evil’ from out of these members of the White Fang.

Exactly what that meant, Weiss had no idea. Because the truth of the matter was that Jaune’s powers were… weird.

Weird and kind of stupid, in Weiss’ opinion, but then, what did she know?

Currently, she and her new retinue of White Fang – former White Fang? Weiss had no idea –were making their way to Mistral, which was now hanging in the distance, silhouetted against the horizon.

Their destination was in sight. Not just that, but it was within a day’s journey. Barring anything crazy, they would be able to make it there by the night of the following day.

Of course, saying ‘barring something crazy’ these days was akin to saying ‘as long as the day doesn’t end in ‘y’’.

First, however, before she could fret over such annoyances any further…

“As much as I’d rather not,” Weiss sighed. “We should probably stop for now. It’s late, and I was pushing myself already even getting this far.”

“Likely a good plan.” Jaune commented. “As much as I myself am immune to the darkness’ effects, I confess that I was not always.”

“We could power through as well,” Adam suddenly spoke up, apparently not caring that much about the fact that Jaune was a person stuck in a mirror. “But if you think it wise to stop, we will. I’ll trust your judgement, miss.”

She heard what Adam said, but unfortunately, she’d been far too busy jumping up in a panic at hearing his voice to really pay too much attention.

“Er…” Weiss floundered for… anything. “Thank you.”

Adam nodded his head with an honest-to-goodness smile, a gentle thing.

It was at odds with… well, everything that Weiss had ever known about him, the brutal terrorist that had decimated Beacon Academy, and done so much more. And yet…

The expression did not seem entirely alien on his face.

It helped somewhat for Weiss to see the SDC scar along his left eye. It served to remind her that even a monster like Adam had reasons to be like he was. And, from what she could tell, quite good reasons at that.

It didn’t make her forgive him, of course, but she could at least understand him.

She didn’t really want to, but that was another issue entirely.

They made their way into the woods, not journeying too terribly far. Weiss wasn’t quite sure where to set up, and was in fact just going to choose a random spot.

Except Adam intervened.

“Excuse me, Ms. Weiss?”

That was still weird. It would never stop being weird.

“What is it?”

“I think we’d be better off setting up our camp slightly farther out.” Adam explained pointing further in. “Simply put, we don’t want to set up here, where there are fallen leaves and brush. We would much rather look for a spot where we can build a fire on dirt or rocks, where we won’t be risking burning ourselves, or setting the forest ablaze.”

It was… surprisingly good advice, and information that Weiss, having been raised in a mansion, had never once known about.

Beacon had an outdoor survival course, but then, that was supposed to be something they took for four years over the course of their time at Beacon, steadily growing more and more in-depth.

And she’d gotten less than a full year.

 But the White Fang walked her through it. Adam led her further into the forest, until he seemingly saw something that he knew made for a good spot. Weiss didn’t know what that was, exactly, until Adam brought out his sword, and used its blade to carve a small ridge in the soil.

“Do you see this?” He showed her the color of the soil. “It’s still got some moisture to it. That moisture will act as a natural retardant to fire, and prevent the flames of our fire from spreading. It’s also not too wet that it will prevent us from getting a fire going at all. Look around for dead trees, they’ll be plentiful this time of year. We snap off dry bark, and burn that. Much less effort than trying the same on wet bark.”

They did just that, with Weiss being shown by a few of the other White Fang how to identify dead trees over live ones. It was a somewhat simple affair when it came down to it, and then encouraged Weiss to give it her best go of it, to moderate success.

“Well done.” Adam complimented her – weird, too weird – as he began assembling the sticks in a pile. “We’ll save some to throw on the fire later. It’s always best to gather more than you need; no one wants to have to wake up in the middle of the night and get enough wood to restart the fire.”

Weiss nodded her head, and set herself up at the edge of the camp.

As much as Jaune claimed that Adam and the White Fang were permanently changed, and rid of evil, she wasn’t going to be putting her faith in that. She’d had her aura up the entire time they’d been walking along behind her, and she wouldn’t be going to sleep until each and every one of them had done the same.

It was funny, though, the way that Adam gazed at her with concern evident in his expression. Had he already figured out her intent? The reason behind her retreat to the edges of their little camp?

He was perceptive. Almost oddly so.

Still, she had to admit, there was something she was curious about.

“Was this your entire number?” She asked, and she watched as the White Fang turned towards her, curious. “Are those present here all those White Fang that were in the area?”

“Ah,” Adam shook his head, seemingly upset to have forgotten something. “You’re right to question; we are not all of them. The others should be around two or three kilometers back.”

“I see…” Weiss pursed her lips. “And they likely… think as you used to?”

Adam’s eyes widened. “Yes, I believe they would.”

That was a problem, then. That group would likely see the smoke from their fire, and come running. Weiss couldn’t sleep at all if she was just going to be assassinated in the middle of the night.

The problem was that she was struggling to think up many other options.

“I will go and retrieve them,” Adam spoke as he stood, and before Weiss could interrupt him, he held out a hand towards her, smiling gently. “Do not worry. I will let no harm come to you, or any of the others. You are all under my protection. But that protection extends to them as well. It was I who led them astray. Now it must be my responsibility to get them back on the right path.”

They were gallant words; the kind that a formerly dark knight might utter in a period piece. Weiss was annoyed that she almost found herself moved by them.

“Fine.” She breathed out. “But if they attack me–”

“They will not.” Adam said. “And if they try, it is I who will stand before their blades.”

And with that, he walked off.

Adam did not return in the next twenty minutes, nor in the twenty after that. After a while, Weiss began to grow almost restless, and was half-tempted to stand up and go find the man himself.

She was talked down by Jaune, in the end.

“Do not panic.” He spoke. “I would know if he were dead.”

“What?”

“Once one’s magic has touched someone, a small bit of that magic is present within them, always. You would not know this, of course, but it is the reason that I was able to recognize Ozma’s magic on that Raven woman.” Jaune explained. “Because of that, I would also know if that tiny vestige of my magic were to return to me that he had been killed. But such has not happened. He is alive.”

“It’s less that I’m worried about,” Weiss grunted out, “And more that the people he’s bringing aren’t going to take too well to my… existence.”

“He said he would calm them.”

“And you believe him!?”

“Do you not?”

“I have very good reason not to.”

“He is not the person you mistake him to be.” Jaune said, before humming. “Or, I should say, the version of Adam Taurus you see before you is a pure version. One untouched by darkness. He still has his memories, his experiences… but he does not carry that evil that had festered within him.”

“Isn’t that sort of like erasing who he is as a person?”

“Is such not better for him than my spell having killed him instead?”

She couldn’t technically argue against that.

“This way, he will at least be able to right some of the wrongs he has committed.” Jaune commented, and absently, his voice seemed to take a low tone. “Were that we were all so lucky.”

Weiss was going to respond to that, but of course, in that next moment, Adam and the remainder of the White Fang trailed their way into their impromptu camp.

Studying their faces before they inevitably warped into shock, anger, and murderous rage, Weiss found herself somewhat amused by how perplexed they all looked. Evidently, they were either surprised by Adam’s attitude, or his sudden lack of mask.

And then they saw Weiss Schnee.

Weiss expected all hell to break loose. She also felt that expectation was totally fair.

And yet, before the band could move to attack, Adam held a hand up, and stood before them.

“Boss?”

“Stay your hands, soldiers.” Adam spoke without doubt or fear. “This girl is not our enemy.”

One of them barked out a laugh. “Surely, you’re joking, boss? That’s a Schnee!”

“She is indeed.” Adam answered them, not denying their words. “And yet, I implore you; look at her.”

They did, each of them quite confused on the reason… why.

“What are we supposed to be seeing, exactly?”

“For how long have the people of the SDC been taking advantage of the faunus?” Adam asked. “Each of you should know this. When did the White Fang come into being?”

“Er… a decade and a half ago, sir?” One of the women at the back of the formation raised her hand a touch awkwardly.

“Correct.” Adam spoke. “It was sixteen years ago, to be precise. Weiss Schnee. How old are you?”

Weiss could see where the man was going, even if she didn’t think this argument, which she herself had tried against Adam before he’d had the evil taken from him, would be working.

“I’m eighteen years old.”

Adam nodded his head. “Tell me, my soldiers. What power do you believe a two-year-old-girl held over the SDC?”

“But sir, why the hell does that matter!?” One of them, a younger man with sharp teeth, yelled out. “She’s still a symbol of the SDC! She’s that bastard’s daughter! We kill her, we make them fear us!”

“If we kill her, all we do is make them hate us.” Adam spoke. His voice was steady and even. There was no doubt there. “I understand your anger. Tell me, boy, where does your hate originate from?”

“What?”

“What caused you to join the White Fang?”

The man seemed confused, and more than a little flustered. The entire camp had turned to him, were looking to him.

“…My parents were killed in an accident at one of the minin’ camps.” The man spoke. “Happened recently, too. Just four years back. Not a unique story or nothin’, but… it’s mine.”

Adam nodded his head. “And you were angry about that?”

“Well… course I was, sir.”

“I understand.” Adam spoke, and then, he let out a pained sigh. He stabbed his blade into the dirt below him, and he sat himself down in front of the White Fang he’d brought with him. “Sit down, all of you. Let’s talk.”

It was clear they were confused, and yet… they followed his orders. They sat in a vaguely circular shape, and Weiss just sort of… watched.

“I was young when my mother went to work in one of the SDC’s mining camps. I couldn’t have been any older than seven or eight. She took me along to protect me from my father, who had abused her for many years. It was all she could do, for she did not want to give me up into a foster service.”

“Our camp was small, consisting of no more than a hundred faunus. I doubt I have to tell you what such a small environment did to the confidence of those who ran the place. They felt like demigods, untouchable. They didn’t hesitate to use that to their advantage, even if that meant taking advantage of the people working there.”

“Whether or not that was beating them, berating them, or, as they tried with my mother, sexually abusing them.” Adam spoke. “That’s the reason I got this brand over my eye. My mother was being touched without her consent by some of the guardsman. I stuck a mining chisel in the man’s leg.”

“And for protecting my mother, they held a branding iron to my face for five seconds.”

There was an uncomfortable air around the men and women sitting around Weiss. She herself was feeling it, too, so it wasn’t like she could judge them.

It was just… Adam’s story didn’t seem all that uncommon.

And that hurt Weiss in some indescribable way.

“My mother became a shell of herself; barely there at all. She blamed herself for not being able to protect me. I healed for nearly four months; not given the proper treatment I needed to be to guarantee my survival from so grievous a wound. One day, the faunus keeping me alive informed me in a quiet voice that my mother had passed away in the mines. A stray rockfall. That was all.”

Adam sighed. Clearly, even so many years later, such still weighed heavily on him.

“For so very long, I blamed the SDC. Like all of you, I’m sure. And I don’t want you to think that I’ve forgiven them. I’ve simply realized that what happened in that camp was no fault of Weiss Schnee, the woman you see behind us,” Adam gestured to her. “It was not the fault of Jacques Schnee, no matter how much he laid the groundwork for such. No. It was the fault of the men who committed such heinous acts.”

“They are long dead. One of the very first missions I myself carried out.” Adam spoke, and Weiss wasn’t sure what to feel about the fact that she was almost glad about that fact. “I feel regret for many that I have slain over the years, but they are not among them.”

“Weiss Schnee,” Adam turned around, so that he was looking her in the eyes. “Tell me, do you hold the same opinions towards the faunus as those people?”

“What!?” She was almost offended by the suggestion. “Of course not! They deserved what they got.”

“What are your opinions on the faunus?”

“I believe they are deserving of every right that human beings possess.” Weiss spoke, and she believed that wholeheartedly. “I believe that they have been treated unfairly for the longest time, and that such treatment has been unjust.”

“Did you always believe as such?”

“That…” She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to that. The ugly truth of the matter was that no, she hadn’t. It had taken until she’d arrived at Beacon to truly begin to see things differently. “Not always, no. I subscribed to my family’s ideology – that the faunus were at fault for what happened to them – for many years.”

Several of the White Fang members growled out at that, but Adam again raised his hand.

“And yet, you came to think differently. Why is that?”

Oh. Weiss could see the man’s angle, now.

“Because I met many faunus during my time at Beacon Academy. And they taught me the errors of my ways not by doing anything special, but by… well, by being people. Not the caricatures that they were often made out to be in Atlas.”

Adam nodded his head. “And do you think you would have so easily changed your mind had the attack on Beacon happened sooner than it did?”

“That…” Weiss wasn’t quite sure. And that was probably the exact point Adam was trying to make.

He turned back towards the others without waiting for her to finish.

“My soldiers, I have come to an epiphany. Our actions were not doing anything for the faunus. This is through no fault of your own. The blame is entirely on me. I acted as I did not out of want to make the world a better place for the faunus, but out of anger, and rage, and a lust for revenge. To make the world suffer as I had suffered. I’m sure many of you have experienced similar emotions. But I ask you this; what would be the point in murdering a girl who’s trying to make the world a better place; just as we are supposed to be? It would make us look like the animals that the SDC, and so many other racists around the world claim us to be. We are more than that. We are better than that.”

“Please,” Adam spoke as he bowed before his soldiers, imploring them. “I ask that you heed my words!”

It was so… so…

Well, so not Adam Taurus.

It was like the man had been kidnapped and replaced by someone entirely different. Like this was some imposter just wearing Adam’s skin. That was… kind of what had happened, but also kind of not.

Because this Adam was the previous Adam.

Weiss just doubted that the faunus in front of them were going to believe that.

And then, of course, one of the faunus stood up, his lower lip wobbling, and shouted, “He’s right!”

“Huh?” Weiss mumbled.

“Yeah!” Another yelled out. “He’s right!”

“We’re better than that!”

“We’re not monsters!”

One by one, the faunus threw away their masks. All the while, they chanted their leader’s name.

“Adam! Adam! Adam!”

Weiss just sort of… blankly stared.

“What is happening right now?”

Jaune laughed boisterously.

“I do believe we’ve ended racism!”

Weiss knew she couldn’t, but she really wanted to reach inside the mirror and smack Jaune in the face.

/

It was an hour or so later, after the initial hubbub had died down, and everyone had settled, that Weiss had her back to a nearby tree, and was trying to keep herself awake.

This was harder than she’d thought it would be, given her body was entirely exhausted.

“You can sleep, you know.”

“I cannot!” She hissed at him as quietly as she could. “In the presence of thirty White Fang members!?”

“They all swore off such violent behavior.”

“Well forgive me for not expressly believing them!”

“You are forgiven.”

Weiss turned Jaune’s mirror around, so that she didn’t have to look at his stupid face.

“You do realize I can still speak to you.”

“I know.” Weiss bit out.

She really thought that was going to be the end to the evening. Uneventful – well, in comparison to the amount of bullshit that had occurred over the last three or four hours – and largely boring, up until she inevitably fell asleep against her will.

And then, of course, something went wrong, because obviously it had to.

Except that thing that went wrong was really dumb.

Like super dumb.

But then, what else was new?

“Uh, sir,” One of the White Fang who’d been watching their perimeter walked back into camp, with a fluffy creature in his left hand. “Would you take a look at this?”

Adam looked up curiously, but nodded his head. He stood, and made his way over to the creature that flailed in the man’s grip.

Weiss recognized it a second later as a wild bunny.

It was very cute.

It was, also, making horrible hissing noises, flailing about, and seemingly doing its absolute damndest to murder anyone and anything in its immediate vicinity. Adam walked up to it and went to scratch behind its ears, but it bit at his finger hard enough that the man had to manually extract the digit, and shake his hand out afterwards.

“Quite the feisty creature.” Adam noted with a quiet chuckle. “I must say, I’ve never seen a wild rabbit exhibit these behaviors.”

“Neither have I, sir. It’s why I brought it over here.”

Immediately, from their western flank, another member of their perimeter team came running back, and she was much less pleased.

“A deer is trying to kill me!”

“What?” Adam raised an eyebrow.

And then a full-grown buck charged into their little space, with its antlers pointed down and primed to annihilate someone.

Weiss wasn’t the only one to stand up, and get the hell out of the way.

Such behavior wasn’t entirely crazy. Deer were, after all, very stupid animals. They moved about erratically because erratic movement was difficult to predict, and being difficult to predict was a good thing when running from predators.

And yet, the deer that passed by Weiss very quickly turned itself around, aimed right at her, and charged again.

Weiss was more than a little surprised.

Adam, luckily, was just a bit faster. He tackled Weiss out of the way, and the deer soared by them.

“Help!” From the other direction, a faunus with antlers themselves came running into the clearing, their skull being pecked at by small sparrows. “Birds are attacking me!”

“What the hell is going on!?” Weiss cried.

From the other end of the area, she heard Jaune’s mirror let out a coughing noise.

It was a very forced thing.

Weiss’ eyes narrowed.

She made her way over towards the mirror, flipped it around, and glared at Jaune as the chaos raged around her, knowing that he was somehow at fault for this.

“What did you do.”

“Well, I…”

“What did you do, Jaune?”

Jaune coughed. “Now I do not know entirely why these animals are reacting as they are, to be clear, but I… may have a theory?”

“Jaune…”

“So, thou wilt remember when I took the evil from the members of the White Fang, and threw it into the forest beyond?”

Weiss mimed the motion he’d made at the time, “In that general direction?”

“Indeed.” Jaune coughed. “So… I fear that evil may have struck the ground out in the forest, and proliferated about the area.”

“…And?”

“And it may have, ahem… affected a few of the fauna in the area?”

“…Jaune.”

“Yes, Weiss?”

“I think I hate you.”

“I cannot overly blame you for such.”

“Guys!” A new guard came into the camp. “There’s an evil rat trying to–”

“WE KNOW!” The entire camp shouted at once.

/

The situation with the evil animals ended up being rather difficult to resolve. That was mostly because none of them wanted to just slaughter said animals for something that wasn’t really their fault.

So, Weiss had made Jaune sap the evil back out of the animals, and then dispose of it slightly more intelligently this time.

That spell had taken roughly fifteen minutes to charge. Over those fifteen minutes, their band of idiots had gotten the absolute tar kicked out of them.

No one had been seriously injured, but then, injuries weren’t always physical.

The bird poop coating Weiss’ hair, for instance, didn’t technically harm her in any way.

But it felt like it. It really felt like it.

Still, they managed to sap the evil from the animals in their small enclosure, and this time, Weiss got a good look at said evil as it was gathered into a small, purple ball.

“Originally,” Jaune explained to her, “Evil had no form at all. Which makes sense, given it is a concept. But concepts are difficult to gauge the… well, existence of, so our mages decided to make evil a more physical and present thing that could be seen.”

“Which is why it’s purple?”

“Which is why it’s purple.”

They buried the tiny purple ball of pure evil in a random hole in the middle of a forest in Mistral. Their hope was that no one would ever uncover it.

Little did they know, of course, that trees were, technically, living things. Their roots would absorb that very evil, and become dark beings filled with naught but hate.

This wasn’t as big of a deal as it sounded, of course, given that trees were trees, and thusly couldn’t talk, think, move, or in really any way interact with the world around them. These particular trees were just evil.

This meant that the squirrels who lived within them always felt a small chill down the backs of their spines whenever they went to sleep at night.

But that was about it, really.

Kind of lame.

/

A day later, Weiss Schnee, with the Dread King of D’Arc slung along her back, and fifteen White Fang members at her back, stepped up to the gates of Mistral.

It had been a long time since she’d left Atlas, and set off for this very place. She had gone on quite the journey to make it here, but here, finally, she was. The city of the east stood before her, and after oh so very long, she could actually sleep in a real bed again.

She hadn’t since Woodcreek, not wanting to stop and rest in another village for any extended period of time, but even Woodcreek’s beds had been nothing more than a sheet over some hay. It wasn’t exactly optimal. Just passable.

Funnily enough, it seemed she was not the only one among their number to be looking forward to making it into Mistral. Several of the White Fang were sighing in relief at seeing the city, and Adam himself had a small smile on his face.

“We’ll need to purchase new clothes so that we can go somewhat unnoticed.” Adam spoke. “Luckily, the sun set a few hours ago; we should have no trouble making our way into the city.”

“Won’t they stop you at the gate?” Weiss asked.

“My face is not known to the outside world. I have used a mask all my life.”

Weiss’ brow drew together. “…But your mask only covers your eyes. Your horns and hair are still entirely exposed.”

“There are many with such features.”

“Are there, though?”

“Ah, the gatekeepers.”

Weiss turned and saw, sure enough, a pair of people guarding the gate into Mistral. They were big and burly men, wielding spears and looking intimidating. Well, not to Weiss, given she was a fairly competent Huntress in training, but to the average person they were likely quite so.

“Halt there, strangers,” One of them spoke as he stepped up towards them. “We’re of course not accusing you of anything, but we have word that suspicious individuals have been sighted in and around the area. We’re screening everyone who comes in just in case.”

“That’s perfectly understandable.” Adam spoke for her, stepping right up to them and giving them a perfect view of his very recognizable visage, “Whatever you need.”

“Just a quick check.”

Weiss’ face went pale as one of the guards pulled from out of his pocket a card with the faces of several criminals on it. She saw Cinder Fall, Emerald, Mercury, and a few others.

But she also saw one Adam Taurus, looking almost identical to the man standing in front of her.

Oh.

They were boned.

The guard went over the sheet as he studied their groups faces. He hemmed and hawed, before eventually coming to a stop in front of Adam. He held the entire card up to Adam’s face, and hummed below his breath as he looked back and forth between Adam, and masked Adam.

Weiss knew they were totally screwed.

“…Nope. No one suspicious here.” The man announced. “You can go on in!”

Weiss just about screamed.

They were allowed in to Mistral some five minutes later, after Weiss had calmed down. She happened to know that the lower rungs of Mistral were for the less-well-off people, and that the dwellings tended to grow wealthier the higher one went in Mistral.

She was at the moment still… annoyed? Aggravated? Upset?

She was feeling an awful lot of things about the fact that apparently no one in the entire world could recognize Adam Taurus without his mask on.

Weiss was growing more and more convinced by the day that she’d somehow gone insane shortly after she’d arrived back in Atlas.

“Alright,” Adam looked to her. “Where is our destination?”

“Right,” She sighed out, trying to get her head on straight. “Well, I have reason to believe that Ruby and the others will have come here.”

“Do you believe Blake will be with them?”

“Hm?” Weiss was initially concerned, thinking that Adam might not have gotten over all of the evil within him. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“I wish to apologize to her, of course.” Adam spoke, and his voice held no lie within it. “I owe her at least that much, after all. To Yang as well, the woman she has come to love in my stead.”

“Uh… what?”

“You did not notice?”

“No!? What was I–” Weiss sucked in a breath. “Y’know what? Never mind. I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“That is fine. I only asked because I figured that if we were going to be near the upper areas of Mistral anyways, I and the other members of the White Fang might be able to help put a stop to Cinder and her colleagues plans to attack Haven Academy.”

“Their WHAT!?”

/

Up on the upper levels of Mistral, one Jasmine Arc winced as a piercing sound hit her eardrums.

“Did you guys hear something?” She asked.

“It sounded high-pitched.” Ren spoke, humming. “The call of some kind of bird, perhaps?”

“Eh.” Nora shrugged. “Probably nothing.”

“C’mon, kids,” Qrow spoke out in his gravelly voice. “We’ve got to go meet with Lionheart.”

Jasmine raised her hand. “Does anyone else think it’s weird that he’s summoning all of us at like… the middle of the night? When there’s going to be no one actually in Haven at all.”

The others stopped to think about that for a second.

“Nah.”

“Not really.”

“Nope.”

“You’re overthinking things.”

“Huh.” Jasmine shrugged. “Guess you’re right.

“I’m probably just being paranoid.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, so I’d like it to go on record that I was not just being paranoid.” Jasmine raised a hand, and Ruby, as much as she wanted to argue back against that… really couldn’t.

Jasmine was just saying things as they were.

Because stood in front of them, surrounding them on all sides, stood Cinder Fall, Leonardo Lionheart, Emerald, Mercury, and a really big guy who Ruby had never seen before in her life.

But he was tall. And scary.

So, she felt he counted.

Oscar took a step forward, his brow furrowed, his gaze hard.

“Tell me; why did things have to come to this, Leonardo?” Ozpin spoke through Oscar’s form. “We were supposed to be allies, standing against the end of the world together. What could have possibly brought you so low!?”

“That’s rich of you to say, Ozpin,” Leonardo barked out, shaking his head. “But where have you been while Salem and her people continued to ravage my city, threaten my life, and the lives of my students!?”

“Is it truly your students’ lives that matter to you, old friend?” Ozpin questioned; his eyes narrow, sharp. “Tell me; how many of your former students have you sent out to their deaths on missions you knew they would not be coming back from!? All to save your own skin!”

Leonardo’s lips peeled back, and though it might’ve been a snarl, it read far more to Ruby like a look of fear. It looked like Lionheart wanted nothing more than to run away.

Perhaps he, too, was flanked on all sides. Or at least, he felt as such.

“You’re immortal!” He screamed, spittle flying from his lips. “You have nothing to lose! For us … for the people of Remnant, our lives are all we have!”

“And that was true of every single person you indirectly killed, Leonardo. But you never factored that in, then, now did you? You shut your eyes, and pretended as if you didn’t see!” Ozpin looked bitter. Bitter, but not shocked. Ruby wasn’t sure what to make of that. “What happened to him, my friend? The man who once stood shoulder to shoulder with me against the darkness of the world?”

Leonardo’s lips parted, but no sound came out. He tried again, but before he could say anything, Cinder had pushed her way in front of him.

“Oh, enough of this,” Cinder growled out, her half-cape billowing behind her as she took center stage. “Kill them already. But leave the Silver-eyed girl for me. We have… business.”

Ruby tensed, even as everyone around her prepared for the battle that was assuredly going to be kicking off any moment now. In that instant, Ruby imagined it would be a rather chaotic affair.

She had absolutely no idea how right she would come to be.

/

“How could you not tell me this earlier!?”

“I didn’t think it would be relevant.”

“HOW COULD AN ATTACK ON HAVEN NOT BE RELEVANT!?”

“Ma’am, please,” one of the White Fang with them winced. “Our ears are far more sensitive to sound than your own.”

Weiss’ eye twitched, even as she took a deep breath, attempting to self-soothe.

It did not work.

“Fine! Where is this attack taking place!?”

“Our part of the attack was stationed in front of Haven. We were to create a diversion to draw Mistral’s guardian force out, whilst Cinder’s people took whatever it was that they wanted from within Haven itself.”

“Right, because that’s not ominous,” Weiss groaned. “Fine, we’ll make our way there! Adam, is this the entire force of soldiers that were going to be present for that attack?”

“More were supposed to be coming in from the mainland.”

Well, that wasn’t good. Weiss wasn’t willing to bet on Adam being able to instantly sway an entire cohort of White Fang to his side through a rousing speech a second time… even if it wouldn’t touch the top ten weirdest things that had happened to her in the last few days alone.

Just then, a bullhead flew by overhead, and Adam hummed under his breath casually. “That’s probably them.”

Weiss did her best not to scream, or kill somebody, but it was really starting to get difficult.

“Alright, fine, we’ll worry about that later. For now, let’s get to Haven and rescue my friends!”

“Right!” The entire band of White Fang called out for some reason, even though only half of them had had the evil sucked out of them, which meant that the other half were just following her calls. That made absolutely no sense, but Weiss was honestly just going with the flow at this point.

Weiss figured out one thing very quickly about Mistral.

It was big. Not in terms of length or width, but in height.

And they had to climb the whole way up.

…

Weiss refused.

“Alright!” She shouted out as she ran entirely out of breath maybe half a kilometer into her many-kilometer journey to the top. “Screw this! Adam, you’re riding with me atop my Lancer to the top! The rest of you can walk!”

“Hey!”

“No fair!”

“I don’t want to walk!”

“She’s right!” Adam’s voice cut through the White Fang’s complaints. “If we wait to arrive, we won’t be able to do a thing to protect Haven. We must go there as quickly as possible.”

Weiss was glad Adam was backing her up on this.

“The rest of you, catch up with us! We’ll need your strength to truly hold Haven!”

“RIGHT!”

Adam nodded to her, and Weiss let out a grumbled ‘thank you’ under her breath as she summoned the Queen Lancer that had taken her out of the sky so many weeks ago. It hovered in front of her, waiting for Weiss to get on its back. Adam did the same, and they took to the air.

It wasn’t a comfortable ride, to be clear. The Lancer’s movements were erratic, and no number of orders from Weiss could change its base physiology. It was insectoid in overall makeup, and that meant it darted to and fro, not moving in a graceful manner at all.

Her stomach would hate her, but they’d get there quickly.

“There!” Adam pointed, and sure enough, she saw the dark campus of Haven occasionally being lit up by blasts of light. Someone was fighting inside the building. “Land in front, we’ll move to assist.”

They did just that, touching down just outside of Haven’s grounds. Weiss drew Myrtenaster, and Adam drew Wilt and Blush. They made for an odd pairing, but Weiss didn’t really have the time to be worried about that at the moment. They dashed forward, making their way towards the doors to the inside. Through the window, Weiss could see her allies, Ruby, Jasmine, Pyrrha, Ren, Nora… hell, even Yang was there! She felt her spirits soar at that, knowing the woman was up and fighting, having recovered from what had happened to her at the hands of…

Well, at the hands of the man standing beside her.

That was going to be awkward to explain.

“Lord Adam, sir!”

Weiss flinched, and turned around as quickly as she could. She’d expected to find new White Fang soldiers from Menagerie, who they’d have to fight off. Instead…

Instead, it was their people. Just… there, somehow.

“You made good time.” Adam smiled. “Well done.”

“It was nothing, sir!”

“Yeah, not a big deal!”

“How was it not a big deal!?” Weiss screamed, all semblance of calm lost. “How did you cover that much distance in… three minutes!?”

“Oh, we just rode the elevator.”

Weiss entire face twitched.

“What– there–

“You didn’t know either, huh?” One of the White Fang grunts looked her in the eye. “Yeah, turns out they installed a bunch of elevators a few years back so that people didn’t have to walk the whole way up. Apparently, it’s really improved Mistral’s tourism.”

Weiss just shook her head, refusing to even rise to the universe’s blatant taunts.

“No, I didn’t know. You can tell me more about that later, if you’d like. For now, let’s just… get inside.

Adam and the others nodded, and Weiss went in first. She moved towards the door with an exhausted air hanging about her, pushed her way inside…

And was immediately met by her partner, Ruby Rose, being thrown at her at Mach speed.

“Gah!” Weiss didn’t have the time to dodge, and tanked the Ruby-missile directly to the chest. The two of them bowled over, and came to rest on the ground on the very edge of the doorway into Haven.

“Ugh…” Ruby groaned. “That big, muscly guy hurts…”

“Ruby!” Weiss shook her partner’s body. “Ruby, are you alright!?”

“Huh?” Ruby looked up at her, with her vision clearly spinning. “W…Weiss?”

“Yes,” She let out, and she found that her voice was quivering, tears building in her eyes. “It’s me, Ruby. It’s me. I’m here.”

“That’s…” A smile began to gather on Ruby’s face, before it was, all at once, taken from her. Her eyes widened, and she practically flew backwards, pointing directly at Weiss as she shouted, “WAH! ADAM TAURUS!”

Oh, right.

“Adam’s here as…” Weiss looked back to him; he looked down at her. She gestured towards him, letting him decide what to say, but he just shrugged, clearly having no idea either. “A…”

Adam looked up at Ruby. “I have sworn to right my past wrongs by undoing as much of the damage that I have done as I possibly can. To that end, I come here tonight as an ally, and as a friend.”

Ruby just stared at Adam with her mouth hanging open. For a moment, Weiss wasn’t quite sure what would happen.

And then, she pointed even harder, and shouted, “That guy in Weiss’ mirror got Adam, too!”

“What!?” It was Weiss’ turn to be shocked, now. “You know about Jaune?”

“The evil magic guy’s name is Jaune!”

“I protest to that!” Jaune spat out from his position on Weiss’ back. “Well, the evil part, mostly. I will accept ‘magic guy’.”

“HE TALKS!”

“Of course, I talk!”

Suddenly, they weren’t alone anymore. Yang had broken off from the battle to make her way over, and though her eyes were red from combat, they softened at seeing Weiss again.

But only for a moment.

“Sis, what’s– Wait, Adam Taurus!?”

Oh, yeah, there were the red eyes again.

“Yang, that evil guy in the mirror has both Weiss and Adam under his control!”

“Shit, seriously!?” Yang looked up, and though she grimaced, it was clear she believed that story. “I guess you’re right; no other way that Weiss and Adam wouldn’t be killing each other otherwise.”

“Excuse me!?” Weiss huffed. “I’m not under anyone’s control!”

“That’s just what Weiss would say if she were under someone else’s control!” Ruby yelled.

“Yeah!” Yang echoed.

One day, Weiss would like her life to not be quite this stupid. One day.

That day was evidently not today, however.

“Sir!” A shout came out from behind them, and Weiss risked looking away from Ruby and Yang to see one of the White Fang working with her walking up to Adam. “The White Fang from Menagerie are here! They’re touching down just west of us!”

“Alright.” Adam looked towards Weiss. “We’ll leave those inside to you. I doubt your friends will listen to anything we say, anyhow. We’ll stop those from Menagerie, and then rendezvous back with you.”

“Right.” She turned back around, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to do much to assist there with how busy things were going to be in here. “Good luck.”

“Appreciated.”

Adam was gone without another word.

“So, you two are like… friends now, or?” Yang questioned, gesturing towards her robotic arm. “Because uh…”

“It’s… complicated,” Weiss hissed out. “But we’re not friends. Adam is…”

“The mirror did something to him, right?” Ruby questioned, and as much as Weiss wanted to deny it, it was the truth.

“Jaune used his powers to sap the evil from out of Adam and some of the other White Fang members.”

“Wait… what do you mean by sapped the evil out of them?”

“I mean he quite literally pulled the evil from out of them, rolled it up into a ball, and then we buried it in the middle of a forest.”

Ruby and Yang looked at her like she was entirely crazy, and honestly, Weiss was annoyed that she couldn’t really protest against that. She was feeling more and more crazy herself these days.

“Right… so, uh…” Ruby’s tone indicated she didn’t entirely think Weiss was all there at the moment. “We’re just going to take that mirror from you now ok, Weiss?”

“I…” Weiss groaned. “I’m not under its control! It’s not controlling me!”

“Yeah, sure, we totally believe you.” Yang spoke gently, indicating that she did not at all believe her. “Just… hand over the mirror, Weiss. We don’t have to fight.”

“Why would we fight!?” Weiss yelled. “You’re battling against Cinder and her goons, aren’t you?”

“You’re more important than them.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s very nice of you, but second of all, I think that Team JNPR is going to struggle a little bit all on their lonesome.”

Yang and Ruby both turned back towards the battle raging behind them in time to see Jasmine get launched a good fifty feet into the air, bounce off the back wall, and land hard enough to kick up a cloud of dust and smoke, yelling out all the while.

“Eh.” Yang shrugged.

“They’ll probably be fine.”

/

Outside Haven, Adam Taurus and the other White Fang members awaited the arrival of the band from Menagerie, who would be coming under orders to attack the school, and to cause as much chaos as they could.

Adam wasn’t willing to allow that.

Too much blood was on his hands already, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else make the same mistakes that he once had. For so long, he had been consumed by grief and hate. Now, finally, he could work to make amends.

He could stop others from being put in the same situation. He could help them.

Except the people who approached him were not exactly who he had been expecting. He’d assumed that the Albain Brothers would be the ones arriving from Menagerie, and that they would come with cohorts of soldiers to aid in their planned assault.

Instead…

Standing there at the head of the pack, with a scowl on her features and steel in her eyes, stood the former love of his life, Blake Belladonna.

She was also, perhaps, the person he’d hurt the most in all the world.

“Adam!” She called out to him, and her voice was steady despite the evident anger that hung at the back of it. “So, you really did come here.”

“I have, although likely not for the reasons you think.”

Blake barked out a laugh, but there was no humor or mirth within it. She sounded tired, in all honesty. Like she was gearing up to do something she’d already done so many times, even knowing there wasn’t much point. If Adam was to guess, he’d bet she was going to attempt to talk him down.

Such wouldn’t have worked on the old him. He’d been too lost in his desire to bring about chaos and death to actually look at himself in the mirror. But now…

“And what would those reasons be, Adam?” Blake shook her head with a pained sigh. “To bring the same pain that you felt from others and push it onto the rest of the world? To make the racists and the bigots of Remnant look justified in their opinions? To lead more innocent people to their deaths!?”

“You’re awfully self-righteous, for someone who abandoned us!” One of the people behind Adam shouted out, and though Adam raised an arm to quiet them, Blake was not deterred by such.

“Abandoned you!? You abandoned yourselves!” Blake called out, and the crowd of faunus behind her, no more than civilians from Menagerie, a small militia she’d managed to drum up, all nodded along with her words. Adam was proud of her. She’d come far in her ability to give a rousing speech. “You abandoned the principles we founded the White Fang on!”

“You did the same thing!” Another shouted, and again, Adam motioned them down.

“I did.” Blake admitted, looking down at the ground; her faunus ears wilting atop her head. “But you know what? Unlike you all, I was able to realize the mistakes I’d made. I was able to look at myself and know that I wasn’t willing to walk that dark path any longer. Can you say the same!?”

“Uh… actually–”

Adam cut that person off, too. It was a somewhat selfish thing that ran through him, then, but…

Blake was someone he’d wronged so much.

He wanted to be the one to speak with her.

“You’re right, Blake.”

Blake’s eyes widened. She took a step back, before shaking her head and moving forward once more, reclaiming her previous position. His words had caught her off guard. “I… what!?”

“I said that you are right. Everything you said. The White Fang has long since been walking the wrong path, towards the wrong ideals and goals. Under Sienna, and then under myself, we lost ourselves. It was only recently that I myself became aware of this truth. Only recently that I woke up from the long nightmare I’d lost myself in, and came to an epiphany.”

Blake’s entire expression was shocked, and she took another step back as Adam stepped forward. He raised Wilt and Blush, and then, in a singular motion, he sheathed the blade.

“My actions were only pushing the faunus further and further away from the dream we’d once sought. My actions were only creating a gulf between us and humanity. Worse; I wanted that. I didn’t want that gap to close. I wanted humanity to be the evil force I pictured them as. I wanted to be justified in slaughtering them to a man. Because I felt pain. So assuredly, everyone else had to, as well.”

“But I’ve come to realize that such was foolhardy. I now believe in one thing above all else; that there is no cause as just as working towards equality for the human and faunus races.”

Blake’s lips parted, and she seemed to make a few attempts to speak, but nothing was really coming. Eventually, she just nodded her head, slowly, and said, “Er… okay. That wasn’t… quite what I was expecting.”

Adam tilted his head. “Do you not believe the same, Blake?”

“W-What!? No! Of course, I believe in–”

“She said no, boss.” One of the former White Fang members with Adam shook their head, “She’s a racist.”

Adam sighed, shaking his head as well. “It seems so.”

“What!?” Blake shrieked out. “No! I’m not a racist!”

“The White Fang’s propaganda got to even you, Blake. I’m sorry.”

“What in all that is holy is happening right now?” Blake questioned, seeming to have an almost out of body experience.

“Don’t worry. I had to go through the same myself.” Adam told her, trying to offer comfort. “To realize the error of my ways.”

“How– You–”

“Come. Sit and talk with me.” Adam gestured towards the spot in front of him as he sat cross-legged on the grounds of Haven. “We can discuss your prejudices.”

“I’m not prejudiced!”

“Uh-huh.” Another of the White Fang behind Adam forcefully coughed. “Sure.”

/

“I am not normally one to ask such things, but I feel as if I must know.”

Cinder Fall, decimator of Beacon Academy, wielder of the Fall Maiden’s might, and strongest mortal on the face of Remnant, looked down at the children unfortunate enough to be called her prey. “How are you alive?”

“Huh?” Pyrrha Nikos tilted her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Cinder’s right eyebrow rose. “I shot you through the heel with an arrow.”

Pyrrha nodded her head slowly. “Yes.”

“And yet you’re walking just fine, now. Like nothing even happened.”

“I went through a strict physical-therapy plan.”

“Okay…” Cinder’s eye twitched. “I also shot you through the chest with another arrow. Punctured straight through your lung. Ring any bells?”

“It missed my vital organs.”

“Sure.” Cinder growled as she forced herself not to engage in whatever asinine game this woman was playing. “Fine. How about when I disintegrated your auraless body?”

“I got better.”

“Wha–” No. She gave up. “Y’know what? Fine. I’ll just kill you again.”

“Like hell you will!”

Cinder effortlessly dodged out of the way of Nikos’ partners attack, which sailed right by her as the woman attempted to stab at her with a great sword. Not exactly the smartest method of attack, given a swing was still a perfectly viable option, and would’ve at least forced her to duck at an odd angle.

Eh, she wasn’t going to start offering them tips.

/

“Weiss!”

“Yang!”

“Ruby!”

“Uh, sis, why did you call your own name?”

“I just felt like it fit.”

Weiss wondered if her team had always been this dumb, or if this was a new phenomenon. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that she knew the answer to that question.

And that she was, likely, not nearly as exempt as she thought she was.

“So, can we fight the actual bad guys now?”

Yang blew some hair out of her face as she cracked her neck. “No-can-do, Weiss. We’ve gotta’ get that mirror away from you.”

“For the last time; I am not under anyone’s control!”

“And again, we totally believe you.” Ruby smiled her way. “We just think you should step away from the mirror for a bit… get some air, y’know?”

“I think I hate everyone.” Weiss came to realize.

“Man, that guy in the mirror really does know just what Weiss would say!”

She just groaned under her breath as she drew up her blade, and prepared for the dumbest fight of her life.

Luckily for all of them, before they could start going at it, two figures landed next to them at flanking angles.

“Well, well, well,” Mercury Black sneered as he stood to his full height, cracking his knuckles. “What do we have here? Team RWBY, minus the B. I guess that just makes you team Ru-w-y.”

“I’d say it’s probably pronounced more like R-Wuh-Y.” Emerald cut in.

“It’s a silent W, definitely.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“Do you want to go, Em, ‘cause it sounds like you want to go?”

Weiss gestured for Ruby and Yang to step back towards her, seeing as how if these two were going to start fighting over something even stupider than what had almost drawn Weiss, Ruby and Yang to blows, then power to them.

“Ah, shit, getting ahead of ourselves,” Mercury seemingly realized his own idiocy. “So, we’re going to kill you guys now.”

“Well, at least thine foes are honest about their intentions.” Jaune quipped from his position on Weiss’ back.

Both Mercury and Emerald zeroed in on that sound, and they looked at the mirror slung around Weiss’ shoulder with intrigue.

“Is that…”

“Yeah.” Emerald confirmed, taking a battle stance. “That’s what Cinder told us to look for. Talking magic mirror. Not that I have any clue how that’s possible, but honestly, after that giant purple crystal castle in the ass-end of nowhere, I’m just kind of going with the flow at this point.”

“Yeah, same.” Mercury shrugged. “Alright, well, kids, we’ll give you a choice here. Hand over the mirror, and you guys might actually get to live.”

“I would appreciate it if thou did not do that.” Jaune made his opinion clear.

“I don’t know,” Yang looked back towards Weiss. “I think it sounds like a pretty good plan.”

“Yeah, I’m with them.” Ruby nodded her head. “Why don’t you give them the mirror, Weiss.”

“I’m sorry; are you insinuating that handing over an indestructible mirror containing the last figure on Remnant who can freely utilize magic to our enemy is a good plan!?”

“Oh.” Yang remarked. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Yes.” Weiss opined.

“No one seems to be doing much thinking at all today.”

/

“So, Blake, why don’t you start; how did these feelings arise within you?”

Blake Belladonna, who’d just finished staging a revolt on the island of Menagerie, finally freeing her childhood home from the clutches of the White Fang, couldn’t help but feel like the universe was fucking with her a little bit.

“I don’t have feelings!” She yelled, and everyone was looking at her like she was the bad guy here – hell, even some of the people she’d brought from Menagerie were looking at her like that!

“That’s terrible.” Adam sounded genuinely pained. “When did you find yourself losing the ability to feel?”

“No, I meant–” She knew what it was like to be tongue-tied, but this… this was like her tongue had been removed, flipped upside down, and then placed back inside her mouth. “You’re the one who lost their ability to feel!”

“I confess that you’re correct.” Adam nodded his head. “For the longest time I had lost my way; I had become a twisted echo of myself. But I have, after far too long, seen the error of my ways. And you can do the same, Blake.”

“I–” Blake felt like if this kept going for much longer, she was going to stab someone. Likely Adam. “Okay, listen… what happened? You cut off Yang’s arm, you demolished Beacon, you killed Sienna… that last one wasn’t any more than a few months ago!”

Adam let loose a pained sigh. “Again, you are correct. I admit that the circumstances behind my sudden changed mindset are unknown to me as well. I simply feel as if… for the first time in a long while, my head is clear, and my heart is steady. I am not constantly festering with rage, and anger, and envy for humanity. I feel… as if perhaps the world might be able to be made a better place.”

“…That…” Blake looked away, biting down on her bottom lip. Things were… complicated, in a word. “What am I supposed to feel about that, Adam? Because I have no idea.”

“I’m not terribly sure myself.” The man admitted, and it was somehow only in that moment that Blake realized that, for their entire conversation, he’d not had his mask on his face. Where it was, she did not know, but it was not strapped to his belt.

For all she knew, it had been discarded; thrown away.

No longer necessary.

And then, of course, something exploded off to Blake’s right. She turned and saw that the thing that had exploded was the door, and the thing that had caused it to explode was Yang’s body, which had been propelled outwards by some manner of explosive. She was alright, looking only minorly perturbed, in all honesty, but she was frazzled.

But…

Blake had not seen her in so long.

So, without thinking, she called out to her.

“Yang!”

It sounded… well, it sounded a bit desperate, if she were being honest. She wasn’t proud of the fact that she sounded desperate as all get out just to see Yang again – she might have had a crush, but that… frankly, it was nothing worth talking about – but she was even less happy a moment later, when Yang turned towards her.

Because what Yang saw and what was actually happening were very obviously disparate things.

She had heard Blake call out to her with seeming desperation. Had heard Blake’s voice crack on the final syllable, and likely thought her in trouble.

And then she saw Adam.

So, really, Blake felt Yang couldn’t be entirely blamed for the fact that her vision went red, her hair caught on fire, and she launched herself towards them.

“W-Wait!”

“Ah,” Adam, somehow not sensing danger, stood from off of the ground. “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding–

And then Yang’s fist struck Adam across the jaw.

Things really kind of spiraled out of control from there.

Chapter Text

“Yang’s gone!”

“Yes, Ruby, I can see that!”

They were holding up alright, all things considered. Mercury and Emerald had evidently been holding back even during the Vytal Festival, because they were both leagues better than they’d shown there.

Emerald was fast, and elusive, and persistent, whereas Mercury was fast, and elusive, and hit like a damned truck. It felt annoying to Weiss that they were both fast, and able to track and keep up with Ruby unless she was blitzing around with her semblance. They’d already knocked Yang out of the fight. If this kept going…

“Thou appear to be losing.”

“Yes, Jaune, thank you for the very helpful comment.”

“Truly, tis’ nothing.”

She would slap that man one day.

One day.

“Y’know,” Ruby brought up again, and instantly, Weiss knew she was going to say something super dumb. “You should just give them that mirror; that would really make things a lot easier!”

“Did you not hear me when I talked about the whole ‘not giving the evil mirror to the evil people’ thing!?”

“Oh, right.”

“How did–” Weiss took a shaky breath. “Alright, Ruby; how about for right now we focus on beating these idiots–”

“Hey!” Mercury called out.

“–and worry about this whole mirror thing in a bit?”

Ruby considered that for a moment.

“…I guess.”

Weiss groaned. “Finally.”

/

Outside the main hall of Haven Academy, Blake Belladonna was watching as the entire White Fang stood in stunned silence.

Their leader, Adam Taurus, had just been socked across the face.

She’d sort of expected them to open fire; that would’ve made the most sense. And yet, it seemed they were content to wait for Adam to issue orders on what to do. They turned to him, even sprawled out on the floor, and awaited his command.

“How’d that feel, asshole!?” Yang shouted out, a grim pleasure hanging about her crimson eyes.

Adam shook his head, massaging his jaw with one hand as he pushed himself to his feet. He glanced over at Yang, and then said, “It hurt. Quite a lot actually.”

“Oh.” Yang didn’t really know what to say to that. “I’m uh… I’m glad. That’s good.”

“I’d prefer it if we could talk this out, instead of resorting to violence.” Adam said, going against everything she’d ever known the man to stand for.

Yang’s eyebrows traveled quite high on her head, and she turned to look at Blake in confusion.

“I don’t know either.”

“Uh, okay…” Yang pursed her lips. “So, uh… are you just like… chill now, or?”

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose you could say it that way.” Adam spoke, although he was still massaging his jaw, opening it and closing it. Yang had probably fractured something there. He was taking that remarkably well.  “I have found myself much slower to anger these days. Much quicker to set aside pain, and recognize the joys in life. But I would say that, ultimately, I have simply obtained a new perspective through which to view the world. I recognize that humans and faunus are not so different. That we share much in common. The same Remnant. The same air. The same sky.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that quote before…” Yang’s eyes narrowed.

“And in the end, that is what matters.” Adam concluded, and it was a wonderful sentiment, just… not something Blake ever thought she’d be hearing from out of his lips. “But frankly, we needn’t have such a discussion. Blake, you’ve shown that you’re able to get over your prejudices quickly, and without hanging on to them like many people do.”

“I didn’t have any–” Blake stopped herself, and took a breath. “Y’know what? Sure, you’re right.”

“And Yang, I assume based on the fact that you and Blake are so close that you do not carry any such prejudices towards the Faunus?”

“Huh?” She looked around, seemingly caught on how odd a topic change this was. “Uh, no, of course not. I grew up in Patch; we had a pretty healthy faunus population.”

“So, you were taught from a young age that faunus are just people, like you?”

“Yeah.” Yang laughed. “Well, I mean, I never really had to be taught. There were faunus kids in my classes growing up, and we played and hung out the same as we did with the human kids. Plus, my dad was a Huntsman, and he never let anyone say anything bad about our faunus neighbors. Someone moved in and tried it once, but he got a whole group together and basically threatened to throw them all out on their asses if they didn’t cut their shit out.”

A few of the White Fang in the crowd laughed at that, and while Blake thought that was all well and good, she couldn’t help but want to point out that these were the same people who had assaulted Beacon Academy and been a part of why Yang was now missing an arm. That had happened… at most eight months ago?

Was Blake the only one still thinking about this?

It felt like it.

“That’s good to hear.” Adam spoke, smiling. It was odd how just seeing the man’s bare face, without the mask he’d grown so accustomed to wearing, made him look so much less terrifying. He seemed… well, like anyone else. “But I get a sense that that’s not what you two really need to be worried about, is it?”

Yang and Blake looked between them, and seemed to both come to the conclusion that neither of them had any idea what the other was talking about.

“…Huh?” Blake muttered

“Yeah, I don’t get it.” Yang responded.

Adam chuckled. “I thought it would be obvious.”

“I’m talking about how you’re in love with one another.”

/

Ozma bit down on his – Oscar’s – lower lip as he deflected Leonardo’s discus, Stalwart, from cutting across his face. The edge of it was razor sharp, but that wasn’t what made it truly dangerous, no. That would’ve been the dust layered in the shield, which manifested in a glyph above it, and then fired a blast of dust-powered fire at Ozma’s – Oscar’s – face.

The fact that it struck him at all was a testament to how out of it he really was. He’d been distracted for days now, ever since he’d felt that sensation yet again, that ever familiar, but deeply tainted magic. Ever since he’d heard of a strange mirror in the possession of one of his students, slowly making its way towards them.

Towards him, it felt like.

He was an ancient enemy; the man pursuing them. Someone who Ozma had all but forgotten about until he’d heard the news. He hadn’t believed it at first; no one would. It had, after all, been so long that Ozma had forgotten about it. His and Salem’s first ever true battle alongside one another. It had all but faded from his memory, along with so many other memories of better times; of halcyon days.

But what Yang told them that Raven had seen…

It sounded familiar.

Disturbingly so.

He could remember so little of those days; before his death, and revival at Salem’s hands. But he remembered that Salem had feared him. That he’d murdered her father, his own brother, in cold blood, and taken over the Kingdom. That he’d locked Salem, a young girl, away in a tower for what was supposed to be the rest of her life.

A man without mercy, or reason. Simply a warlord of death and decay.

/

“Thou shouldst attempt to dodge.” Jaune supplied unhelpfully as Weiss took one of Mercury’s kicks to the side of the face.

“Jaune,” She rasped out. “I’m going to kill you if you say that again.”

/

He needed to end this soon. Weiss was here, which meant the mirror was here as well. If the figure within was allowed to utilize the magics they possessed…

Ozma was not sure what the consequences would be, but that they would be bad went without saying.

On their next exchange, Ozma again tried to get through to his old friend.

“Don’t you understand that there’s more at stake here, Leonardo!?” Ozma shouted as he locked Long Memory against Stalwart, and the two briefly battled in a contest of strength. No matter if Ozma was back in a younger body, he had not yet been able to condition Oscar’s muscles. He lost handedly in that particular competition.

Leonardo was older, yes, but he had been a beast of a man in his younger years. That strength had not yet entirely faded away.

Long Memory was batted from out of Ozma’s hands, and he swore, even as he jumped backwards, and ran to retrieve it. Before he could make it there, a fist swung for his head from an unexpected angle, and he barely got his aura up in time before he was sent spiraling backwards.

He landed hard on the tile of Haven’s floor, but knew he could not afford to stay down. He aura was still intact, and so he pushed himself up, and avoided the follow-up blow from…

“Hazel.” Ozma sighed, shaking his head. “So, you’re here.”

“I am.” Hazel didn’t look happy. “And you’re one to talk about there being ‘more at stake’.” Hazel swung out, and Ozma barely dodged beneath the swung arm, bulging with muscle. “There’s always more at stake! People are sick, and tired, and hungry! There are homeless on the streets you don’t do anything for! There are criminal organizations operating right under your very nose! But no, you’re only ever focused on the landscape of Remnant! Your head’s too high in the clouds to make out any of the people on the ground!”

Ozma gritted his teeth as he was buffeted backwards, though he kept hold of Long Memory this time. “And serving Salem helps these people!?”

Hazel huffed out a breath as he righted himself, and cracked his neck. “She is going to remake the world. One far better and kinder than this one. No more will people need to suffer as they have.”

Ozma had heard it all before. Those who swore fealty to Salem – that weren’t downright insane like Tyrian – normally had such lofty ambitions.

Of course… “She’s lying to you! She’s going to destroy the world!”

“This one, perhaps.” Hazel, too lost to hear his words, shook his head. “This… remnant of what was before. But in its place, something greater will emerge. A world unbowed by its past; and a world of infinite possible futures!”

The man was completely caught in Salem’s ideology; in her lie that she wanted to remake the world after its destruction. She didn’t want that at all.

She merely wanted to die, no matter how that came about. She would burn this fetid rock to ash if it carried with it the slightest chance of her end.

But he didn’t think he could possibly convince Hazel of such a thing. Not in the time – or lack thereof – that he possessed.

And so, he simply drew Long Memory back up, and waded back into the fore.

/

“I don’t like this woman!”

“I’d hope not, Nora; given she nearly killed Pyrrha.”

Cinder scoffed. “I did kill Pyrrha. How she’s here right now is beyond me.”

“I got better!” Pyrrha shouted back.

“Yeah!” Jasmine echoed. “What she said!”

Cinder just rolled her eyes. “You are all entirely ridiculous. You must understand that you children cannot possibly stand against the might of Salem, let alone me.”

“Uh, don’t you have your order reversed there?”

“No.”

“Okay, a bit cocky.” Nora muttered. “So, why are you even with Salem in the first place?”

“Power.”

“Okay. Don’t you have that, though?”

“What?”

“I mean, you wanted to be with her for the Maiden’s power, right?” At Cinder’s nod, Nora continued. “But now you have that. Do you really care all that much about whatever else it is she wants to do?”

“I want all of the Maiden’s powers?”

“Wait, you can do that?”

“Like, just stack them all on one person?” Jasmine cut in.

“You’d think that would be dangerous.” Pyrrha commented.

Cinder sat there a moment, thinking about it. “…I suppose I never did actually figure out what the same person having multiple Maiden’s flames within them would do.”

“So, what exactly is she offering you? Like, outside of you collecting the Maiden’s powers, which you can always just do on your own.”

“Nora, don’t encourage her!” Jasmine groaned.

Cinder couldn’t really conjure anything up. “I suppose nothing.”

“Okay. And do you like working for her?”

“Define ‘like’.”

“Are you satisfied out of what you get out of the arrangement? Do you enjoy working with your coworkers?”

“Not particularly, and definitely not. If all of them were killed in a fire, I’d likely celebrate.”

“Then why keep working for her?”

Cinder puckered her lips in thought as she rubbed at her chin idly with her singular good hand.

Then, she looked back up at Nora. “Are you… trying to talk me out of working for Salem right now?”

“Is it working?”

“…Keep talking.”

/

“So, Yang, how did you feel when Blake left you back at Beacon?”

“Well…” Yang fidgeted in place a bit. “I was broken up, I guess. We’d grown so close so quickly, and I… I was gutted when she wasn’t there.”

Blake bit down on her bottom lip as she looked over at Yang. “I left to protect you, to–”

“Ah, ah, Blake.” Adam interrupted her, holding a hand up towards her. “This isn’t your turn to speak. We’re hearing how Yang feels right now. Please, continue, Yang.”

“Right.” Yang licked at her lips, wetting them. “It’s just… I was at my weakest, you know? I charged in to save you, and… and the next thing I knew, you were gone. I woke up in that medical camp… completely out of it, high on pain medication, and you were just… you weren’t there. It was made worse because none of you were. Weiss had already been taken. Ruby was passed out from having used the Silver-Eyes, Qrow was trying to track down Cinder and finish her off in her weakened state… and there I was, just… left behind.”

She met Blake’s eyes, and Blake couldn’t help but shrink back.

“It’s just…” Yang continued. “I don’t know. It felt like when you needed me, I was there, y’know? With the White Fang, I was there. At the dance, when you needed someone to talk you down, I was there. When you were fighting against Adam, and you were losing, I was there. And then… then when I needed you, you weren’t.”

Adam nodded his head. “And how did that make you feel, Yang?”

“Really shit, to be honest?” Yang tried for a laugh, but it was a weak thing, barely there. “I don’t know. It felt like… like Blake didn’t care about me, or–”

“I do care–”

“I know.” Yang stopped Blake from interjecting this time. “I know you care about me. I’m just saying how it felt at the time. I realized you were probably just trying to protect me, or prove something to yourself. You did the same thing back at the docks, running off all on your own and trying to handle all the world’s burdens. But… I don’t know, I just thought we got past that.”

“We… We did.”

“Then what happened, Blake?”

“I…” She looked away, too ashamed. “I got scared.” Her voice was tiny, barely there, but she had to say it. “And I know that’s not an excuse, because you told me – the whole team told me – that we’d handle our problems together, but… I thought… I thought the fact that you got hurt was my fault. I thought that if I wasn’t there… then there’d be no reason for anyone to ever try hurting you again.”

“Blake, I…” Yang swallowed. “I’d rather lose my arm and have you with me than be perfectly healthy without you.”

It was the first time Yang had ever said something quite so extreme to her. Blake hadn’t at all expected it. Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked away, trying to regain her composure.

“…I’m sorry…” She whispered, barely loud enough to be audible.

Yang didn’t say anything at first. She looked away as well, staring down at the carved stone that they were sat upon. She was twirling a small weed that poked up between two bricks in one finger, trying to find something to occupy herself.

Blake was right there with her.

“Blake, it’s your turn, now.” Adam said, and she briefly panicked, not knowing what she wanted to say. “Don’t worry about trying to get everything right with what you’re saying, alright? Just be true to your emotions, and the feelings that lurk within your heart. The rest will follow.”

Blake took a moment to gather her thoughts. This was all a bit odd, this whole… what even was this, couple’s counseling? They weren’t even a couple! But… well, even if it was sort of coming out of nowhere, in the end, perhaps it would end up being just the thing they needed.

“It felt a bit like my time at Beacon was one long dream.” Blake began. “I found myself learning to help people, instead of hurting them. I found myself placed on a team of people I came to genuinely care about and adore. I made friends, and for just a little while I was able to forget about the things that I’d done.”

“It all came crashing down around me once reports that the White Fang were the ones robbing those stores came out. I realized that I hadn’t managed to escape from my sins at all. I’d just been running away. And the moment I stopped running, they caught up to me.”

“It was hard to see it as anything other than my fault. Even though I knew objectively that it wasn’t, it felt like it was my responsibility to determine the truth of the matter. I was so sure that the White Fang weren’t responsible, that someone was pinning the blame on them yet again. But no, it was them. And they’d become almost a mockery of the organization I’d once been a part of.”

“It felt like all my worst fears made manifest; that we never stood for anything, that we’d always just been brigands in scary outfits, with fancy ideals that meant nothing. I was worried that Weiss was right. I couldn’t rest, it felt like, until I had determined the truth of the matter. Ultimately, you had to be the one to talk me out of that. To save me from myself. When we stopped the White Fang’s attack on Vale from Mountain Glenn, it felt like we’d done it. We’d stopped them.”

She shook her head.  

“And then the attack on Beacon happened.”

A few of the White Fang at the back of the crowd shuffled awkwardly. One coughed.

“I probably don’t need to say a lot about that. Having the White Fang show up again, and having Adam himself be the one to hurt you…” She looked up at Adam, and the man nodded towards her, as if encouraging her to continue. This was all very weird. “It felt like that was all my fault. It was hard to stay objective in the face of what felt like all of my sins. It felt to me like you were the one facing the brunt of my mistakes. And I just couldn’t allow that.”

Yang looked at her with teary eyes, but didn’t interrupt as Blake had. Gods, but she felt like a fool in the face of those eyes, and that face, and the love – whether platonic or romantic – that she knew Yang had for her.

“I’m sorry.” She spoke again, looking away. “I failed you.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Yang admitted after she was silent a while. “I think I forgive you? I mean, I want you back in my life, but I’m not sure…”

“These things are complicated.” Adam interrupted them. “There’s no need to try and rush yourselves. You won’t be able to mend the damage that your relationship has undertaken in a singular conversation. This is only the start.”

“Yeah…” Yang smiled over at her, a metaphorical olive branch. “I think it is.”

Blake smiled back, and offered out her hand. Yang took it, and squeezed it with just a bit of force.

It was a comfortable feeling. Blake wanted to lean into that touch. Before she could, though, Yang turned back towards Adam.

“So, just to be clear, you’re like… totally cool with me and Blake… y’know?”

“Blake has made her position obvious.” Adam spoke. “I do not begrudge her moving on, as assuredly as she does not begrudge me for moving on, either. Am I correct?”

“Uh… no.” Blake wasn’t really sure how Adam had gone from ‘why must you hurt me’ and ‘I will destroy everything you love’ to this, but frankly, she wasn’t complaining. “No, not at all.”

“Then that is that.”

Blake wasn’t quite satisfied with that, but it was better than things had been. She expected things to end there, for them to all just… well, walk away, or something, but instead…

“You guys should totally kiss!” Shouted a voice from within the White Fang’s crowd.

Both Yang and Blake went crimson at that, and yet, before either of them could say anything in response…

“Yeah!”

“They should kiss!”

“Kiss and make up!”

“Kiss!”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“KISS!”

Blake and Yang were both totally overwhelmed as the crowd began to chant the word ‘kiss’ in unison over and over again. Adam was doing his best to calm them down, to try and stop them from putting pressure on them, but…

When Blake looked over at Yang, she saw the woman who’d been there for her in her weakest moments at Beacon. She saw someone she’d come to lean on, and appreciate, and…

And someone she felt she could very easily come to love. Perhaps someone for whom those feelings already existed.

“I…” Her breath caught. “I wouldn’t… particularly mind?”

Yang swallowed visibly, but she had a tiny smile on her face. “Yeah… I don’t think I would, either.”

They leaned towards each other, and the crowd quieted down in anticipation. Their lips were just inches from one another’s, and that distance continued to shrink, until–

The door to Haven exploded open, and Weiss was the one to be thrown out into the courtyard this time. She was smoking, clearly having taken a hit of some kind of dust attack. She brushed herself off with a wince, before looking up at them all.

She looked between Blake, Yang, and Adam, then to the crowd at the back behind them.

“Are you people having couple’s therapy right now!?” She screamed, seemingly livid.

“They’re not technically a couple yet.” Adam clarified. Blake wasn’t sure what to think of the fact that his yet sounded very assured.

“GET IN HERE AND FIGHT, OR I WILL PERSONALLY KILL EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!”

Weiss’ voice was high-pitched enough that Blake found herself wincing, her faunus-hearing hearing every bit of it in excruciating detail. Adam didn’t have the same problem, but he stepped forward and placed a hand on both Yang and Blake’s shoulders.

“Good conversation, you two. I think we’ve made great progress. Keep communicating. That’s the most important part of any good relationship. The lack of it was what ultimately drove myself and Blake apart.”

It was true, even if ‘communicating’ really meant more ‘Blake not telling Adam that she wanted him to stop killing people’.

“Yeah, uh, thanks, Adam.” Yang smiled, before seemingly realizing what she’d just said with a crazed little laugh. “Y’know, I feel like we entered the twilight zone at some point and I didn’t notice, but frankly, fuck it.”

“Yes. This is certainly… odd.” Blake commented.

“Yeah, I mean, first I found my mom sleeping with some girl my age, and now this?”

“What!?”

“Sleeping as in actually sleeping. Like, cuddling up against, not having sex with.”

“Ah. That is… really only slightly better.”

“I know, right? Like, how could that bitch replace me with some–”

“HURRY UP!” Weiss snapped.

“Right, right!” Yang called back, before leaning in towards Blake, and muttering, “Sheesh, what crawled up her ass and died?”

/

“So, do you have dental insurance?” Cinder Fall, terrorist extraordinaire and current Fall Maiden, asked as she was sat cross-legged on the floor of Haven Academy.

“No, actually, Hunters generally aren’t offered that kind of coverage.” Nora explained. “The cities are kind of cheap about it. We have life insurance; well, obviously, that part probably goes without saying, and we get pretty good health insurance.”

She and the other members of Team JNPR were currently sat down in the middle of Haven Academy in front of Cinder Fall, who was at present discussing whether or not she felt the benefits of leaving Salem outweighed the positives.

For no other reason than self-interest, of course, but then, Nora knew how to play to a crowd, apparently.

“Well, that is a bit of a disappointment,” Cinder noted, massaging at her chin. “Salem offers top of the line dental insurance, alongside homeowner’s insurance.”

“Huh, can’t say I really expected that.”

“I didn’t either, until I developed a cavity for the first time, and it was completely covered.” Cinder shrugged. “Apparently, Salem’s teeth aren’t immortal in quite the same way as she is, so she values taking care of them.”

“Wow, I’m surprised they’ve held up this long.”

“As am I. Frankly, I suspect there exists some spell that has kept them in such a refined state. They really are quite a bright white.”

Suddenly, a voice boomed from off to their left.

“CINDER!” It belonged to the giant, hulking man who’d been fighting against Oscar for the last little while. “Are you almost finished with those brats!? We’ve got to retrieve the mirror!”

Cinder paled. “Oh, shit, uh– yeah, totally!” She called back. “I’ve been fighting them the whole time!”

Cinder shot them a pointed look.

“Yep. She’s really been kicking our butts!” Nora covered for her.

Ren sighed, but nodded along. “Indeed.”

“Total butt kicking.” Jasmine supplied.

“She has us on the ropes.” Pyrrha smiled.

Hazel just sighed. “Let’s just… grab the mirror and wrap this up. Beating up Ozpin isn’t nearly as satisfying when I’m looking at the body of a child.”

“Right, well, this has been a good conversation, you four,” Cinder stood from her place, coughing under her breath. “I will consider your proposal.”

“Can we expect good things?”

“I don’t know. Not having dental and homeowner’s is a real blow.”

“You own a home?”

“No, but I might want to.”

“Aren’t you trying to destroy the world?”

“And rebuild it.”

“Are you saying that Salem would build a perfect world after destroying this one, and that she would seek to re-add insurance companies to it?”

Cinder seemed to think about that for an awfully long time.

“Well, admittedly, that is a decent point.”

“CINDER!”

Cinder cleared her throat. “Alright, pretend like I just beat the ever-loving crap out of you all.”

Nora shot her a thumbs up, before jumping backwards and hitting the ground hard.

“Gah!” She shouted out. “She’s too strong!”

The rest of Team JNPR just looked down at Nora with a hint of genuine disappointment.

And then they, too, did the exact same.

“So powerful!”

“What can we possible do!?”

“Ow.” Ren remarked boredly.

“See!” Cinder called out. “I’m handling them!”

“Well, handle the Schnee girl, and get the mirror!”

Cinder nodded her head, before summoning from out of the ether a spear wreathed in fire and death. She held it up, aimed it at Weiss Schnee’s back, and then threw it right at her.

She never even saw it coming.

/

Ruby Rose saw the spear as it sailed through the air towards Weiss. She screamed her best friend’s name, wondering if this would be the last time she’d ever see Weiss, if that spear would take her life, like Cinder had nearly done to Pyrrha.

It then bounced harmlessly off of the mirror that Weiss was wearing on her back.

“Huh?” Weiss turned around, staring at the now disintegrating flaming spear that was turning to ash on the ground. “Did something hit me?”

“Uh…” Ruby coughed into one hand. “No. It’s fine.”

/

“Huh.” Cinder frowned. “That didn’t work.”

“Your aim was a bit high.” Pyrrha critiqued.

“Pyrrha!” Jasmine hissed. “Don’t go giving the evil lady throwing lessons!”

“What did you say!?” Cinder turned back; her arms crossed over her chest. “I didn’t aim high!”

“You did, though.” Pyrrha said it gently, in a way that only a complete and utter megalomaniac could possibly construe as aggressive.

Which was to say, Cinder Fall.

“You need to aim lower than that when throwing a spear. You’re looking–”

“How dare you!?” She snarled, conjuring yet another spear in her hands. “Go ahead; say my aim was too high this time!”

And when she threw the spear this time, it sailed directly into Pyrrha’s chest.

Chapter Text

In Weiss’ opinion, things had gone from half-hearted silliness to complete and utter seriousness just a bit too quickly.

“PYRRHA!” Jasmine cried out, and she dropped next to her partner, who’d just had one of Cinder’s summoned weapons thrown through her chest. It seemed to have missed her heart, but it couldn’t have been by much. The weapon was disintegrating already, beginning to break down now that it was out of its progenitor’s grip.

The rest of Team JNPR turned on Cinder quickly. Nora drew out her grenade launcher, and fired off multiple rounds, uncaring of the fact that it would likely cause massive amounts of property damage. Frankly, Weiss couldn’t blame her; she couldn’t find it in herself to care, either.

Cinder dodged the explosives headed right for her, bobbing and weaving through Nora’s shots, but Ren was peppering her with rounds from his pistols at the same time, and so she was ultimately forced to disengage, lest she lose too much aura.

Emerald and Mercury seemed to see the writing on the wall as well. They looked between one another, had a conversation with their eyes, and then made to regroup with Cinder at the back of the room. Weiss and Ruby let them go.

“We should probably check on that Pyrrha girl.” Jaune brought up, and for once, his advice was totally sound. “That was a bad hit.”

“Yeah…” Weiss swallowed on her nerves, hoping she was alright.

Ruby didn’t comment on the fact that the mirror had spoken to her, which told her just how serious this had suddenly become.

The big guy – she thought that she had maybe heard that his name was Hazel – looked towards them as they crossed the room, but made no motion towards their position. Evidently, there was a… not a truce, but a decision from both sides that they’d be licking their own wounds for the time being. Although that implied that Cinder’s side really had wounds to lick. They’d not taken many hits, outside of the occasional blow that she and Ruby had been able to land on Emerald and Mercury.

Still, neither of their two groups were going on the offensive at the moment.

Weiss knelt down beside Pyrrha as Jasmine looked the wound over. “How is she?”

“Bad.” Jasmine hissed out between gritted teeth. “The spear was superheated. It did a lot of damage to the areas around where it hit inside of her body as well. I…”

Weiss looked up at Jasmine’s eyes, then; at the panic she could see raging through her.

“I can save her.”

Weiss’ own eyes widened. “You can?”

“I can. Just…” Jasmine looked away. “It’s my… my semblance. I haven’t… wanted to reveal it, and…”

“Isn’t Pyrrha’s life more important than anything else!?” Weiss argued, almost annoyed that Jasmine was hesitating at all.

And yet, suddenly, it was Jaune who interrupted.

“Girl,” His voice echoed out from the mirror at Weiss’ back, and Jasmine turned towards the sound of it with wide eyes. “Thou art…”

“U-Uhm…” Jasmine swallowed. “Oh, fine. I guess it was going to come out eventually, anyways.”

She leant down, closed her eyes, and pressed her hands together. All around them, the others had taken defensive positions. The White Fang, alongside Yang and Blake, were beginning to filter into the building, which assuredly meant the advantage was theirs.

But…

Suddenly, something surged through Weiss’ gut. A feeling she knew, somehow, despite, well… everything.

“That…” She whispered below her breath. “Is that…”

“Indeed, tis exactly what you think.” Jaune commented, sounding rather shocked himself.

“This Jasmine is capable of magic.”

 Weiss didn’t even have a moment to truly process that information before Pyrrha began to glow a bright, brilliant white below her. All around them, the others turned to see what Jasmine was doing as well, including Oscar – or Ozpin? Things were weird – who seemed particularly interested.

“It can’t be…” He whispered.

And yet, it seemed it very much could.

Pyrrha’s wound steadily stitched itself back together. It took maybe fifteen or so seconds. It was, in Weiss’ eyes, similar to watching one of those timelapse videos of a plant growing from out of the ground over the course of multiple days.

And once the wound had fully healed, Pyrrha let out a gasp, and opened her eyes to see Jasmine kneeling above her.

Her partner let out a gasp of relief, before leaning down and wrapping her arms around Pyrrha’s form. Pyrrha returned the hug, although judging by her red face, she was quite a bit more concerned with the fact that Jasmine’s breasts were pressing directly into her face.

Ugh. Those two were utterly hopeless.

“Healing magic…” Jaune’s voice was quiet, enough so that only Weiss could hear it. “Even in my time, such was so rare that–”

“Well…” Jasmine shook her head. “That’s uh… that’s actually my semblance. It’s more fortification than anything. I can enhance others auras with my own. But I can use the magic of the Arc family to strengthen it…” Jasmine turned around, saw Oscar staring at her, and uttered, “Actually, y’know what? We can talk about this later.”

“So, uh,” Yang and Blake walked up to them. “I’m taking it we missed something?”

“Yes, while you two were having couple’s therapy, the rest of us were fighting for our lives!” Weiss hissed over at them, and though they shrunk back a bit, it was Adam to step forward, and mediate.

“Such was my fault. I saw the tension between them and sought to remedy it. Do not blame them, for they were initially quite doubtful. I imagine they would have assisted you if not for my intervention.”

“That…” Weiss just groaned. “Sure, whatever. What’s the plan, then?”

“For what?” Someone asked, Weiss didn’t particularly care who.

She just pointed at the other side of the room, where Cinder, Emerald, Mercury, and that big tall guy were all waiting for them to make a move.

Oh, and Leonardo was there to. He was just cowering in the corner with his head in his hands.

“Oh, right.” It was Ruby who answered. “Huh… uh… anyone got anything?”

“Other than beat them?” Qrow, who Weiss couldn’t help but feel like hadn’t actually been here for half of this battle, brought up. “Nah. Not really.”

“Okay, all in favor of ‘beat them’?”

Everyone raised their hands.

“Alright, then. We’ll do that.”

Pyrrha still needed to take it easy, but the rest of them could afford to get back in the thick of things. They rounded on Cinder’s band quickly, and the five of them (counting Leonardo, which, given the fact that he’d not so much as moved, might not have been fair) didn’t seem all too terribly pleased about that. Qrow took a wide angle, trapping them where they were, whilst Nora, Jasmine, and Yang came at them from the front.

 And yet, before any of them could truly begin to fight…

A strange, jellyfish-looking Grimm floated its way into the room, from out of Leonardo’s office.

It wasn’t a Grimm that Weiss had ever seen before. It had a sphere-shaped head, and long, barbed tentacles that floated beneath its body. It hovered in the air, almost idling in place as it came to rest between their two groups, almost preventing things from going any further.

And then…

Darkness billowed out of it.

“So,” A voice crept along the edges of the room, invading Weiss’ skull. It sounded as if it came from all angles simultaneously; as if Weiss were being assaulted on all sides.

“You truly are returned.”

It was hard to quite describe the affect that that voice had on each and every one of them. The one who reacted most obviously was Oscar. His entire posture shifted, and he went from confident to almost fearful in an instant.

The rest of them were no different, but it was a different sensation. It was akin to a knee-jerk reaction. There was no real thought put behind it.

They simply flinched away, for the voice itself was like venom. It was an instinctual thing, like the fear of the dark, or of spiders or snakes.

Like their genes were screaming at them to run.

Run away from the monster under the bed.

And yet, the sole person who remained unaffected was on Weiss’ back.

“I am indeed.” Jaune spoke, before more quietly saying, “Weiss, hold me up so that I might see.”

Weiss did just that, drawing Jaune from off of her back and holding the mirror up so that this new figure, and Jaune, could meet face to face.

“It has been an awful long time; Dread King.” The ashen woman, with a pale white face and piercing red eyes, spoke out.

Jaune sounded almost shocked.

“Salem. Is it truly thee who stands before me now?”

Weiss’ eyes widened, as did, well, everyone else’s. Weiss wasn’t sure why, given that she should’ve been the only one present who actually knew who Salem was; the significance of that name.

Unless, somehow, they’d also figured that out?

Still, to think that Salem was working alongside Cinder – no, was likely the one commanding Cinder – was…

“It’s almost humorous to me.” Salem spoke, her voice even. “I had no memory of you at all until so very recently. But when I felt that pang of magic erupting from out of the Mistralian wilds, when I felt an art thought lost to time suddenly breathe once more… I knew that it could have only been you. I remember so very much, suddenly. Memories I’d thought entirely lost to time. I remember your name. Jaune D’Arc, was it not?”

Weiss thought Jaune would’ve been thrilled to hear his own name; to know that there was someone on Remnant who still knew him, but…

“Salem…” Jaune’s voice was quiet. “What has happened to you?”

“Oh?” Salem tilted her head to one side. “Are you referring to this?” She gestured to her body; to her appearance. “There is very much to tell, but so little time. If you’d like, I’d be willing to tell you everything, if you would but come with me.”

“I am afraid I would much rather not.” Jaune spoke, sounding… honest. Weiss couldn’t really tell anything else by his tone. “No… There’s something wrong with you. You are not Salem. Not truly. You may technically be her… but only in the sense that a painting might depict one’s visage. You… as you are now… are someone I have never encountered.”

Salem actually laughed, then, and it was a harrowing sound. It grated on Weiss’ ears, had her biting down on her bottom lip.

“I would say that the Salem in your memories is the painting; that woman from so very long ago is a pale shadow in comparison to who I am now.”

“You are incorrect.” Jaune shook his head. “You are the shadow. There is naught in you but anger, hate… and sorrow. You long for nothing but darkness. Nothing but the end.”

Salem said nothing. Up until the corners of her mouth twitched upwards, into a mockery of a smile.

“Perhaps you are correct, Jaune D’Arc.” Salem shook her head in amusement. “But that matters little, now. We are both in our respective positions, are we not?”

Jaune didn’t respond to that. Salem turned towards Oscar, and her eyes widened somewhat.

“Ah, and Ozma, you’re here as well.”

Weiss felt like she’d been thrown for yet another loop; Ozpin was sort of a similar name to Ozma, but not really! What the hell was going on!?

Was Jaune’s brother going to suddenly show up, too!?

“Wait, that boy is Ozma?” Jaune said, trying to turn around and look at Oscar, but being trapped within the mirror, he couldn’t exactly make him out.

“Indeed.”

“Thou art both here!?” Jaune scoffed. “How art thou both here!? Hath the both of you mocked death as I have!?”

“Indeed. A mockery of death that led to a rather long and painful story,” Salem spoke. “One that does not need telling here. Suffice it to say that you were not the only one to receive punishment from the ever-so-illustrious gods. You were not the only one cursed.”

Jaune lowered his gaze. “I had thought you abnormally pale. For a moment I simply assumed you did not get out much, but… I suppose being cursed by the God of Darkness’ power is perhaps a more believable reason.”

Weiss just groaned.

“It has been enlightening to see you again, Dread King.” Salem spoke, and despite her tone, Weiss almost believed her. “Still, I’ve little else to say to you. It is clear that my subordinates have failed to apprehend your bearer.” Salem spoke, staring down at Weiss, and causing her to shake on the spot. “A shame, but not one I am overly concerned about. We will most certainly meet again, Jaune D’Arc. Ozma.”

And then, the head of the Grimm creature exploded out in a mess of viscera, painting the ground in a goopy mess of reds and blacks.

Once that had disintegrated, however, they looked up to find the four members of Salem’s force entirely gone.

Notably, however, Leonardo Lionheart was still there.

He hadn’t moved, actually. He was still cowering in that same corner.

“Is that… it?” Ruby asked to no one in particular.

“Seems like it.” Yang grunted out. “Man, this is not how I thought my night was going to go.”

“Samezies.” Nora muttered.

“So, uh…” Qrow scratched at his chin. “I guess I’ll go arrest Leo, then?”

He looked to Oscar, although it seemed as if Ozpin – Ozma? Things were complicated – had other ideas.

“That glimmer in her eyes…” He muttered, evidently speaking only to himself. “I have not seen such life in her in…”

He shook his head, before taking a deep breath, and then saying, “Everyone; I’m afraid this is not nearly as ‘over’ as many of you seem to believe it to be.”

Weiss was a bit surprised to hear that, as were several of the others. That lasted up until Weiss realized it was her that Ozpin was looking at.

He took a step forward. Weiss took a step back.

His brow furrowed.

“Hand over the mirror, Ms. Schnee.”

The others seemed to realize what was happening, now. Ruby, Blake and Yang all turned towards her, and seemed to be hoping that she’d go along with what Ozpin was saying. Jasmine, on the other hand, had gone back over to cradling Pyrrha – who seemed fine, but was evidently milking her being shish-kebabed for all it was worth – and was currently trying to make herself small.

It was clear she didn’t want anyone questioning her about the fact that she, too, had utilized magic.

The specifics of which Weiss was completely oblivious to.

“What would you do with it?”

“Lock it away.” Ozpin confirmed her suspicions. “Seal it away in the depths of Remnant, where none would ever stumble upon it again.”

She looked down at Jaune’s face in the mirror, and she saw the real fear on his face at that.

She looked back up, met Ozpin’s eyes, and hardened her gaze.

“I… don’t want you to do that, sir.”

“And that is not your fault. You’re being manipulated. That man’s powers are beyond human comprehension.”

“I’m not being–”

“Weiss, please.” Ruby stepped in front of Oscar, urging her. “Give up the mirror.”

Weiss took another step back, biting down on the inside of her cheek as she examined those surrounding her. The only person who didn’t seem to want her to follow along with what Ozpin was saying was Adam.

Evidently, they’d all bought into what Ozpin was saying. They weren’t even willing to hear her out.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t exactly blame them, given that Adam had very clearly had his mind changed from the person he’d once been. Was it so strange to think the same had happened to her?

“Everyone…” Weiss tried one last time to convince them. “I’m not under the control of anyone. Jaune’s not some megalomaniacal king, no matter what he seems to think. This is all just one giant misunderstanding.”

Ruby, Yang, and Blake all looked between one another. They nodded their heads.

And in the next moment, Blake disappeared.

Weiss had just a moment to react before she realized that Blake hadn’t disappeared, but a clone of her. The real Blake seemed to blink into existence above her, reaching for the mirror Weiss had in her arms, still holding it from where Jaune and Salem had been conversing.

She was barely able to get the mirror out from Blake’s reach in time, but before she could relax, Ruby was there, making much the same gambit. Weiss swore below her breath, even as she felt a strange energy begin to emanate from out of the mirror in her arms.

Yang came at her, and then Ren and Nora. They were closing in. Oscar was charging for her, his cane raised, and Weiss was panicking. She couldn’t lose the mirror. Not because of any power it granted her…

But because, whether or not she wanted to admit it, she had grown rather fond of Jaune.

And yet, apparently, she needn’t have worried, because a moment later, when it seemed as if she’d have the item pried off her person…

Everyone collapsed to the ground like puppets with their strings cut.

It was such a strange thing to see happen, and instantly, Weiss knew that it could’ve only come from one person.

She turned the mirror around, so she could look at Jaune, and hissed, “What did you do!?”

“I put them to sleep.”

Weiss assumed the worst. “You…”

“No, I mean I literally put them to sleep.”

Case in point, Yang began to snore.

Weiss looked up, and, sure enough, the different members of both Team RWBY and JNPR, alongside Oscar and Qrow, had all mysteriously fallen asleep. Even Leonardo Lionheart had, although he’d fallen asleep leant up against the corner he’d been cowering in previously.

Hell, Adam and the White Fang, who’d still been standing behind Weiss, were all out as well.

“They’ll be out for… four or five hours?” Jaune seemed uncertain as to the exact timeframe. “Maybe less? We’ll want to not be here when that happens.”

That was all well and good, but… “What about Adam and the White Fang?”

“I would’ve thought you’d be thrilled to be rid of them.”

She would’ve as well, a few days ago, but annoyingly enough Adam had turned out to be a pretty great person when he had no evil in him to speak of. She’d enjoyed his advice, and his positive outlook.

Funny how life worked out.

“Although, before we go anywhere, I think there’s something we should investigate first.”

She looked down at Jaune. “What?”

“There’s something below us. Something… magical. I cannot truly describe it. It’s odd, but… it feels almost akin to the Gods’ magic.”

Weiss’ eyes widened. “As in… the Gods of Light and Dark?”

“The very same.” Jaune spoke. “Come, that statue between those staircases seems to be the obvious point down.”

Weiss didn’t quite know what it was that Jaune was talking about, but she walked towards the object anyway. She accidentally kicked poor Pyrrha in the face as she was trying to step over her, and she whispered out her apologies. Despite the contact, Pyrrha didn’t so much as stir.

“Uhm… are you sure they’re asleep, and not in a coma?”

“They’re just in a very deep sleep.” Jaune clarified. “They won’t be able to awaken via normal means. If someone were to threaten their lives, of course, they’d awaken, so worry not for their safety.”

Weiss was glad for that, at least. She was thinking about questioning how exactly the magic that was keeping them asleep determined whether or not their lives were being threatened, given that Weiss had, intentionally or not, just assaulted one of them, but she decided to worry about that later.

Or potentially never, to be honest.

“Ah, I see. There’s a slot in the back for an object to be inserted.” Jaune spoke, somehow able to just… tell.”

“What do we do? Do we have to find it?”

“Find it? Hah. No, nothing so pedestrian. Give me a moment.”

Jaune concentrated for perhaps thirty seconds, before, with a small grunt, her thrust his hand out.

And the statue gave a quiet rumble before beginning to move downwards, until the platform at the top was the only thing still exposed.

“I believe we are to get on.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. She’d been able to figure out that much at least.

The ride down, if it could be called that, took quite a while. Every few seconds, Weiss would think that surely, there couldn’t be that much further, and yet, that happened a good ten or so times before, finally, the cylindrical tunnel they’d been traveling down gave way to a massive empty space.

Massive almost felt like an understatement; it was a cavernous… well, cavern. The walls were composed of stone, but there was a manmade section that seemed to have been carved from the rock as well directly below them. It was a path that led to some kind of door, flanked on both sides with glowing trees. On the path were three cerulean circles, which glowed with a faint energy.

Weiss stepped off the lift to see that the massive door in the distance seemed to be sealed tight.

“What is that?”

“I’ve not the faintest idea.” Jaune spoke. “But it feels vaguely magical in origin. Take me closer, I wish to examine it up close.”

Weiss acquiesced, taking Jaune close enough that if he’d not been trapped within the mirror, he’d have been able to reach out and touch the doorway.

“How odd… tis locked with a rather rudimentary magical spell.”

“Define rudimentary.”

“Suffice it to say that back in my time, such would not have been any good for anything. It would’ve been akin to locking one’s door with a single thin branch off a tree. A good kick of any kind would shatter it. I am going to use the magical equivalent of a kick, now.”

Weiss took a step back, but otherwise waited until Jaune let out a breath, and an aura of some kind surged out of the mirror she was holding. The door in front of them reacted, beginning to open from the top to the bottom; different interlacing pieces peeling apart.

“Though I suppose in a world where only a handful of people possess magic, locking a door with even that most rudimentary of spells would be akin to sealing it away forever.”

In the end, a minute or so later, the door had fully unlocked itself.

Beyond them was…

“Hm.” Jaune’s voice called out. “A liminal space. Something that was beyond even the most powerful of sorcerers in my time.”

It was certainly an oddity. Weiss stepped into it, and found herself surrounded by vast dunes, endless sand, and a clear blue sky above.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d have said they’d suddenly traveled to Vacuo.

And yet, that was impossible. Vacuo was a world away.

“This is the work of the Gods.” Jaune spoke with assuredness. “No one besides them could have crafted such a place, though I know not why they would lock this space with such… well, lackadaisical magics.”

“Is it possible the space and lock were made by different beings?”

“Almost assuredly that is the case.” Jaune nodded along. “Otherwise… well, no matter. We should get what we came for.”

The item in question was right there, floating above a small pedestal set in the middle of the sand. It seemed to be a lamp, if Weiss’ eyes weren’t deceiving her, although it could have just as easily been a pot, or some other decorative item. It glowed with a faint energy that seemed to indicate it, too, was magical in nature.

Given everything around them, that wasn’t much of a surprise.

“What… is it?” She asked, hoping for a definitive answer from Jaune.

“I haven’t the faintest idea.” She got instead, once again.

“What should we do with it?”

“Why, take it with us, of course!”

“I feel like that’s maybe not the greatest idea you’ve had.” Weiss deadpanned.

“I have nothing but great ideas.”

“Okay, sure.”

Regardless of whether or not she thought it was a fantastic idea, she did step forward, and draw the lamp off of the pedestal. She’d sort of expected the entire space to come down around them, to begin to collapse like it would in one of those adventure movies Yang loved to put on in their dorm so much, but…

No. Nothing happened at all.

Weiss turned around, and walked back out with little fanfare at all.

It was anticlimactic, if she was being honest.

“…Now what?”

“Hm.”

“If you say ‘I haven’t the faintest idea’, I’m going to throw you back in that vault.”

“…I do not know?”

Weiss just let out an aching sigh.

/

Weiss Schnee, alongside the mirror housing the Dread King of yore, exited out of Haven Academy some ten or so minutes later. They did so under the impression that no one knew about what they carried with them; a Relic of a bygone age.

And yet, they were wrong.

For in the distance, stood atop a building far enough away that they would not be seen, a figure observed all of this with a curious eye.

They smiled, then laughed, and then disappeared into the night.

/

The fallout of the events at Haven Academy were… interesting, to say the least.

For one, the most obvious of all was that Leonardo Lionheart was arrested, and was awaiting a trial that would be rather damning, to put things lightly. He was being accused of knowingly sending thousands of Hunters to their deaths, and, well, obviously they couldn’t say ‘was also working with Salem’, given the world had no idea who that was, but they could bring him up on charges for conspiring to destroy Beacon Academy, given that he’d fought alongside some of the people responsible.

Weiss had expected to see Adam’s name in the news as well, perhaps that he’d been arrested for his past crimes, and yet… no. He was absent, which meant that he’d either gotten away, or the others had covered for him.

She assumed that the latter was more likely, given the fact that she was pretty sure Adam as he currently was would just allow himself to be arrested to ‘atone for his sins’.

Although there were rumors of a scarred faunus raising money for charity on the upper levels of Mistral’s streets, or volunteering in soup kitchens for hours at a time, or handing out coats or other items to the homeless.

Weiss still wasn’t sure what to think about the current Adam, if she were being honest. She supposed it was better than the alternative, and if he was doing this much good, then she couldn’t much argue with what Jaune had said, either; that this was better than him just being dead.

On the other hand, there was quite literally zero news about anything that had happened at Haven, beyond that Lionheart had been found out to be a traitor, and had been arrested. The arrest itself was being credited to Qrow, likely because he was a well-known enough Huntsman that it wasn’t particularly odd for him to be involved.

In news from Atlas, her father still hadn’t put out any notice that she was missing, likely perfectly happy with her not being there as long as she wasn’t contributing to any bad publicity. As long as she faded into the background, she’d likely be fine to continue doing… well, whatever it was she was doing.

And on that note…

“So, what’s the plan?” Jaune asked her.

It was a fair question. Very fair. Frankly, she just wished she had the answer herself.

The fact of the matter was, they were likely being pursued.

Ruby, Blake and Yang weren’t going to want to give up on her, but she also didn’t want to just surrender Jaune. He was…

Honestly, she wasn’t going to admit it, but he was a friend.

She didn’t want him to be sealed away.

So, for right now…

They needed to get away.

Vale wasn’t really an option, given that it was still recovering from being utterly decimated by Grimm, and while she would’ve liked to say Vacuo, given the baggage she had with the other location… well, it was about as far away from them as one could realistically get.

And frankly, if Weiss Schnee showed up on Menagerie, she was fairly certain she’d be burned at the stake within an hour.

So, with that…

“I suppose we’ll return to Atlas.” She sighed.

It was, at the very least, somewhere she could protect Jaune. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but she could return to the Schnee mansion, and Jaune would likely be left alone. No one there knew of him.

She just had to keep it that way.

Still, Mistral didn’t exactly offer non-stop flights to Atlas, and frankly, they’d be expecting her to take a flight out of Mistral. She assumed that Qrow would be watching any ways out of the city by walking, via bird form, which meant that if she wanted to get out… she would want to stick close to the ground, and also somewhere she could remain anonymous.

“We can take a train to Argus, first.” She stated, already formulating the full plan in her head. “Once we’re there, we’ll chart a flight to Atlas.”

“And we’re going to Atlas because…?”

Oh. Right. She’d yet to provide Jaune with an actual reason.

And on her honor, she wasn’t about to admit that she was protecting him.

“I want to visit my sister, Winter.” She made up on the spot, which would, actually, be a good reason to go as well. “That’s all.”

“…Alright.” Jaune didn’t seem to believe her, but he didn’t call her on anything. “I do feel I should bring something up, however.”

“Hm?”

“Simply that the last time we relied on someone other than ourselves to get us somewhere – namely that bullhead pilot to get us to Mistral – we ran into a rather difficult situation, one which nearly got thee killed.”

Weiss couldn’t quite blame Jaune for being a bit paranoid. In all honesty, there’d been a time where she’d have likely been just as worried as him. But this time, she was confident.

“Relax, last time was a fluke.” She spoke, shaking her head and chuckling below her breath.  

“Nothing’s going to go wrong this time.”

/

There they were, stranded, alone, and in the middle of a snow-covered forest somewhere in the middle of Mistral, while freezing winds raged around them.

“Weiss?” The mirror strapped to her back called out.

She sighed. “Yes?”

“Doeth me a favor and do not speak the next time thy plan our route.”

“Yeah,” She moaned out below her breath.

“Agreed.”

Chapter Text

To say that Ruby was exhausted as they crawled their way back to their place of residence in the upper levels of Mistral was maybe the largest understatement that mankind had yet made.

She was practically dead.

They’d not stopped working in what felt like a full week, ranging from fighting off the members of Cinder’s faction at Haven Academy, trying and failing to apprehend Weiss to get the mirror from her, waking up having slept really terribly because she’d slept on her stomach, and had really bad acid reflux when she did that. They’d also been trying to deal with the fallout of arresting and imprisoning Lionheart, trying to find out where Weiss had gone with the mirror, and trying to track down the members of Cinder’s group that had fled.

There had just been a lot of trying, basically.

There had also been that incident where Adam had gone missing, and they’d thought the worst – that perhaps his darkness had returned to him, and he was going to attack them in the dead of night when they least expected it. They probably should’ve realized that wasn’t the case given that all of the White Fang that had been turned with him were still around, but their brains were working with very little sleep.

They’d of course found Adam at a nearby homeless shelter volunteering to assist the people there. He’d been working to collect donations from people on the street – at which he’d been incredibly successful – and then coming back to work the soup kitchens as well.

The people working at the shelter itself had been gutted that they’d needed to take Adam back with them, citing him as the best volunteer they’d ever had. One of the women working there also had what Ruby could only describe as the world’s most obvious crush in the world on Adam, which was saying something given that Ruby knew Pyrrha.

Ruby had honestly felt a bit bad dragging Adam away regardless, but then, the fate of the world was at stake. If Adam wanted to come back once they’d saved it, then he was free to do so.

And yes, from the few days that Ruby had seen them together, it was clear that having Adam around was making Blake feel weird. It was also clear that having Adam around was…

Well…

“Hah,” Adam chuckled under his breath as he leaned against the wall behind him. “Yes, well, your speech-giving skills were somewhat… off on that particular day.”

“Oh, right,” Blake rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face. “And that’s why you put your head in your hands, damn-near collapsed to your knees, and then walked out of the hall in disgust?”

Adam coughed into one fist. “I think you must’ve been seeing things?”

Yang cackled beside him. “Wait, so, her speech was so bad you physically couldn’t be there anymore?”

“Again, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ruby was choosing not to think about how Yang somehow didn’t have any bad blood with the man who’d cut her arm off. That way laid madness. Or any other number of equally inconvenient things.  

Still, whether or not she’d expected it, it was clear that Blake had always silently hoped that Adam could return to his senses; to being the person she remembered him being. And now, whether or not he’d had any choice in the matter, he had. That had a smile stretching across her face, and a gleam in her eyes that Ruby hadn’t seen since before Beacon had been attacked.

Ruby was happy for her, no matter how weird this was.

Still, for right now, Ruby was tired as all get out. She moved towards the couch in the center of the room, plopped down on it, and closed her eyes.

Hopefully, nothing would happen that would otherwise inconvenience her ability to sleep. Nothing at all.

“Hey, Jasmine!”

It was Yang’s voice, and Ruby opened a single eye, just to check in on the situation. She saw Yang with her hand around Jasmine’s wrist, having stopped her as she was walking by, it seemed.

“Oh, uhm… hello, Yang.” She chuckled. “Did you need something?”

“Well yeah, I did.” Yang looked back towards Blake, who nodded subtly to her. “Jasmine… you can use magic.”

Ah. Right. Of course this had to happen. Ruby wasn’t allowed to get any sleep. No, a conversation that threatened the balance of their entire group had to break out once more.

Because that was just Ruby’s life.

“That’s…” Jasmine clearly didn’t want to talk about this. That added up, given that she’d had a week to bring this up on her own, and very much hadn’t. “I… I can.”

Ruby was honestly surprised she hadn’t tried to weasel her way out of that one, but then again, the figure in Weiss’ mirror had straight up said she had used magic to save Pyrrha’s life. A bit of her semblance as well, but magic to supplement it.

And that…

“Okay, well,” Yang hadn’t yet let go of Jasmine’s wrist. “Where did you learn that, exactly?”

“I… can’t tell you that.”

“Wait, what?” Yang’s brow drew down. “What do you mean?”

“I just… that’s personal, alright?”

Yang clearly didn’t want to let that go, but a hand on her shoulder belonging to Blake had her easing up a bit.

“Alright, sure, but…” Yang let out a breath of frustration. She was, evidently, not pleased by all of this. Ruby couldn’t really blame her. “I don’t know when this occurred to me, but… Pyrrha, atop the tower when she was battling Cinder. That Cinder lady seemed to think she killed her, and yet–”

“That’s not–” Jasmine rushed to cut her off, before looking back, making sure the coast was clear. “Don’t… don’t say that around Pyrrha, alright?”

Yang clicked her tongue. “So, it’s the truth?”

“That…”

“Jasmine–”

“What’s going on out here?”

Another new voice had joined in the conversation, and Ruby looked over to see that Pyrrha had heard the commotion. Luckily for Jasmine, she’d missed the part where they’d been talking about her survival from what had happened atop Beacon’s spire, but…

Ruby had been there. She’d utilized her eyes without even meaning to. She’d watched as Pyrrha crumbled to dust…

And then she’d just… been fine.

She’d been so out of it afterwards that she’d simply assumed she’d been seeing things, but…

“Are you alright, Jasmine?” Pyrrha asked, walking up to her, seeing Yang’s hand on her wrist, and glaring over.

“They’re just… asking about what happened back at Haven. How I… how I healed you.”

“Oh.” Pyrrha looked a bit guilty when she said, “In all honesty… I’m quite curious about that as well.”

Jasmine seemed caught, then, and as much as it hurt her to see her friend like that, Ruby was in agreement with the others.

“I… I did use magic.”

“How did you learn it, though?” Yang stressed. “Because you having magic isn’t a problem; it’s great, even. It’s just… how powerful is it? What can you do with it? Hell, is it something we could learn?”

“…No.”

“Why?”

“It’s…”

“I’m just saying, I mean, I can’t be the only one who’s had the thought that their last names are pretty similar, right? Jasmine and that guy in Weiss’ mirror?” Yang questioned, and Ruby was a bit embarrassed that everyone else nodded along, when she herself hadn’t noticed anything of the sort. “D’Arc and Arc?”

“That’s…”

“Is that more than a coincidence, Jasmine?” Blake asked.

Jasmine looked like she was surrounded on all sides, despite the fact that she was among friendly company. Ruby wanted to defend her, and yet… they deserved to know, didn’t they?

“I… can’t tell you.”

“Hey, we’re your friends, aren’t we!?” Yang grew the smallest bit heated, her eyes not quite red, but becoming a warmer violet. “This is pretty important!”

It was Pyrrha, ultimately, who stepped in front of Jasmine.

“If Jasmine thought it was necessary to tell you, then I’ve no doubt she would. But if this is a personal matter, then I stand by her decision to keep this to herself.”

Jasmine smiled up at Pyrrha as she finished speaking, and offered a smile back towards Jasmine. Yang just rolled her eyes.

“Oh, yeah, because that’s a completely selfless thing you’re doing.”

“Hey!” Nora entered into the room, her hands on her hips. Ren was technically there too. Honestly, he might’ve been there the entire time. He didn’t really have a notable presence. “Don’t be mean to Pyrrha!”

“This is more important than being kind, Nora,” Yang shook her head. “We need to know what we’re up against, or what we’re capable of! That woman, Salem, she knew the person in that mirror, and if Jasmine’s related to them, then–”

“Enough, all of you.”

They all turned, surprised, towards the source of that voice. They found Oscar – although, judging by the tired expression on his face, it was far more likely Ozpin that they were currently faced with.

Then again… that man in the mirror, alongside Salem… they’d called him Ozma.

Ruby doubted that had been a mistake.

“I’ve kept much from all of you.” Ozpin began with a sigh, reaching up and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “I see now that doing so has only caused a schism to break out among you. In order to rectify that, I’ll tell you what you wish to know. As much as I can.”

This… wasn’t something that Ruby had expected at all. Especially after everything had happened with Lionheart. Ozpin had been… rather closed off.

“You weren’t entirely willing to answer questions yesterday.” Blake was the one to bring up. “You said we’d know what we needed to know when we needed to know it.”

“Which was really confusing, by the way!” Nora complained.

“Yes, well…” Ozpin sighed. “Suffice it to say that my mind has been somewhat altered.

“What altered it?”

It was clear they weren’t getting the answer to that question. “Do not worry over such things. For now, let us discuss the situation. Come.”

They ended up in the living room, all sat down at – or around – the couch that Ruby had been laying down on. She was trying not to take that personally, but it was a little bit difficult to do so, given she was now sitting on the floor, and very much still tired.

“Suffice it to say, as you may have figured out, I am… rather old.”

“Yeah, a bit.” Yang muttered. “That guy in the mirror, and Salem, too… they said Jaune D’Arc had been in some way affected by the Gods, and then she implied that you guys had been as well. What was up with that?”

“That…” Ozpin sighed. “Do not concern yourself with the latter sentiment. That matters little.”

Ruby begged to differ, and several of the others seemed to as well. Unfortunately, Ozpin just kept going.

“What matters is that I am here. More specifically, that I am here to stop Salem from destroying this world.”

“And how long have you been doing that?”

“…Well over a hundred thousand years, now.”

There were several shocked expressions on their faces. It was an amount of time that felt almost impossible, and yet… there was not an ounce of falsehood in Ozpin’s tone. She genuinely believed he’d been fighting for that long.

But…

“And… you haven’t won?”

“Winning is not something I’ve been able to consider.” Ozpin sighed. “Not when I have struggled to even keep this world from the brink of ruin. There have been times where this world has enjoyed eras of peace, and such could perhaps be considered a victory. But there have been an equal, or perhaps greater number of times when it has been pushed to the very edge of destruction. It has held throughout it all, if only just.”

Ruby wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. It was evidently true, given they were here.

“Alright,” Blake sighed. “What of the man in that mirror; Jaune D’Arc?”

“That was his name, I do believe.” Ozpin nodded. “I must admit that it had been a long enough time since last I dealt with him that I had all but forgotten of his existence. It was only when I felt the telltale hiss of magic along the winds of Mistral that I realized what could have happened; that perhaps he had risen from his imprisonment. I was rather glad to figure out that he had not escaped confinement, and that instead, that confinement had only been moved elsewhere.”

“So, this Jaune guy,” Ruby was startled to realize that it was Qrow who’d spoken, having apparently entered into the room while she wasn’t looking. “Is he more dangerous than Salem?”

“That is hard to say.” Ozpin sighed. “He has far fewer resources, and his methods of attack will be much less dangerous, trapped within that mirror as he is. Yet if he were to escape…”

Ozpin hesitated a moment, clearly caught on whether or not he wished to say anything.

“This is a world devoid of magic. Whether or not there remain people capable of using it, the truth of the matter is that the world itself wants the magic that was once taken from it. I cannot tell you all of it, but… at some point, this world lost the magic that was once commonplace upon it. Despite this, the world itself did not change. Now, Remnant is like a system of roots, constantly looking for any semblance of water. When actual magic is used by someone capable of casting it, most of it goes back to the person who casted it. But a tiny fraction is shaved away, returning to the planet itself.”

“This would not be so great a deal over a period of ten years. Even over a hundred, it is negligible.” Ozpin spoke, before looking up at all of them. “But Salem and I have been alive for a hundred thousand years. Our magics, what little remain, are all but spent. What we possess is a mere fraction of what the most capable sorcerers in our time were capable of. And suffice it to say that Jaune D’Arc will not have lost his powers as we have. He still possesses all the magic that once resided within him, and, due to his immortality, he can likely use it without worry for burning out the basin of his power.”

“I’m sorry,” It was Pyrrha who spoke up, raising a hand. “Uhm… did you say immortality?”

“Indeed.” Ozpin sighed. “The reason he is sealed now, and not dead, is because he could not be killed. Myself and Salem working together once overpowered him, but he would not die, no matter what we threw at him. He was imprisoned away, so that he might never walk the face of this planet again. Unfortunately… I fear that he may yet find a method to escape from out of his mirror.”

“How would he do that?”

“I am not sure he has realized; in fact, I pray he has not, but in the time since I first felt his magics, and the time I actually encountered him… it felt as if he had already grown stronger. It’s possible that utilizing his magic is bringing him closer and closer to the fore. Potentially, if he were to rest against the very edge of the prison that binds him… he may just find a method of escape.”

“And if he does?”

“I am not so sure what might happen, in truth.” Ozpin admitted, running a hand down his face. “Either way, that cannot be allowed to happen. We must remove him from the board. I have been playing this back and forth, zero-sum game with Salem for eons now. And I have managed to hold her to a stalemate. Only the insertion of a new, dangerous element could possibly shake the game. Take D’Arc and bury him away, somewhere no one will ever find him again, and this world can continue to stand as it has for so very long.”

Ruby’s brow furrowed somewhat, although that seemed to be a sentiment that no one else in the room shared. She didn’t quite know why, but there was an uncertainty hanging about her chest, something that threatened to spill out into words.

She held it back. Instead, she shook her head, and, seeing as how everyone had largely broken off from their earlier arguments, sought to get some sleep, finally.

She made for her room, laid down on the bed, and was asleep within a minute.

/

Evernight had never once been a location that Cinder Fall would describe as ‘alive’.

It was likely the single most inactive place on Remnant. Only seven figures lived upon the entire continent, and many of them stayed for only a few weeks at a time, before disappearing to other remote corners of the world.  

And yet, despite all of that…

When Cinder entered into the dining hall for the meeting that Salem had called, all of her enforcers present, she couldn’t help but feel like the entirety of Evernight was humming.

“It is good to see you all,” Salem spoke, and where her voice normally sounded empty, like a mere mockery of speech, there was something there, now. “There are several things to discuss on the docket for today. I’d also imagine that many of you have things you wish to ask of me, and have held back for fear of retribution.”

Salem was right on that front. She’d been wanting to ask what the hell this entire mirror debacle was even about for weeks now, but just as she’d said, hadn’t done so because she’d been worried what Salem might think.

“Worry not. I will answer your questions today. I am, after all, in quite the good mood.”

“Ooh, ooh, me first!” Tyrian raised a hand, and Salem nodded towards him. He clapped his hands together excitedly, before asking, “Are you going to be punishing Cinder and Hazel for their failure at Haven!?”

Cinder had to bite down on the string of insults that immediately threatened to spill out of her, then. That utter bastard Tyrian was always like this.

“I will not be.” Salem spoke, and Cinder couldn’t quite hide her surprise. Tyrian actually seemed disappointed, too. “The reason behind such is simple; I was under the impression that the mirror would’ve taken control of its host, using them merely as a means to get around. I had not expected for it to have seemingly formed a symbiotic bond with the one carrying it. She was unwilling to surrender it, and fought to defend it fiercely. I had also not expected for him to be capable of magic within the mirror, and yet, certain spells seem available to him despite his condition. Added onto that, he seemed against coming with you. Your chances of capturing him, in that case, were slim to none.”

“Is he so grave a threat?” Hazel asked, leaning forward.

“Hm. I suppose. He will almost inevitably serve to hinder us. But on the other hand, I somehow doubt any of you would lose in a straight fight to him were he to be released from that mirror. His magical skills were not particularly noteworthy in my time, although perhaps such power would be of note now. Regardless, the only things you must be worried for, in truth, are the abilities that he has gained from the transformation he took on to best myself and Ozma a hundred thousand years ago. The true extent we knew not of, given that he was sealed away by the Gods only an hour or so after he took the transformation on, before he could fully unleash whatever powers it might’ve granted him.”

Cinder wasn’t alone in reacting to the ‘hundred thousand years’ comment, and yet none of the others seemed to want to broach that topic. Cinder didn’t quite want to dredge up the backstory of the Queen of the Grimm at the moment, either, and so she left that particular thread hanging.

“The girl who carried him was Weiss Schnee, correct?” Watts brought up. “Her father owes me… somewhat of a favor, to put things bluntly. If you’d like, mistress, I can have him put out a reward for her to be returned to Atlas, and from there, once she is returned home, we’d have little difficulty getting him to hand the mirror over to us. Our handiwork wouldn’t even be noticeable at all without someone digging into the matter extremely deeply.”

“An excellent idea, Watts.” Salem smiled. “Utilizing the entire world’s population as an information-gathering network. Clever. Do so once this meeting has been adjourned.”

The man nodded his head.

“Cinder, have you any questions?” Salem turned to her.

She did. She just… wasn’t quite sure how to word them.

But…

“Why are you in such a good mood?”

Salem’s eyes briefly widened, before they returned to their previously lidded look. She gave a light chuckle as she leaned forward, balancing her chin on her elbow, as she stared across the table at Cinder.

“Because things in this world have been stagnant for a very long time. For eons longer than any of you have been alive, I have sat in this castle playing a veritable game of chess with Ozma. Neither of us can truly win, and whenever one of us grows close to losing, the other is unable to truly finish them off. But for the first time in… a length of time I know not the true scope of, there exists a new piece on the board.”

“The Maidens, the Relics… all of these I have contended with time and time again. Though I have not wielded Destruction, and I have yet to truly discover the truths of Knowledge, I find myself bored with their potential. And the Maidens? Mere shadows of what the most basic of mages in our time were capable of. Nothing more. Just keys to locks.”

“But he,” Salem shook her head, but the smile on her lips was undeniable. “He is something different. And it has me excited. I must confess that I find such refreshing after spending so very long… adrift, without purpose or meaning.”

Cinder wasn’t quite sure what Salem was trying to say, there. Hadn’t she been trying to gather the Relics to destroy and recreate the world? That was what she’d always told them, anyhow. Had that plan been going for so long that such no longer held meaning? That even a victory would be hollow?

“For now, we shall change our plans.” Salem spoke. “I have felt a shift in the magics of Mistral. I believe that the Vault of Knowledge now stands empty. I can feel that the Relic is moving, and that it is likely still on Anima, but as for its exact location, I know not. Regardless, three of you, Hazel, Tyrian, and Cinder, alongside your cohorts, will be sent there to investigate, and to hopefully find the girl who wields his mirror.”

“What of the Relic, ma’am?”

“If you can capture it without difficulty, then take it. But do not overextend yourself for it, or choose it over taking the mirror instead. The Relics are no longer a priority.”

Cinder wasn’t alone in reacting to that. The others – other than Tyrian, of course, who ate up everything Salem said – seemed mildly perturbed that objects of their previous missions were now reduced to… afterthoughts.  

Were the Maidens as such to Salem now, too? Almost assuredly so, if she cared not about what laid behind the locks that the Maidens could unlock.

Cinder bit down on the inside of her cheek. If that was the case, then what did Cinder provide that made her useful to keep around? And more important than that, what did Salem offer her that made it so that she should stick around?”

Nora Valkyrie’s idea…

It wasn’t sounding quite so imbecilic all of a sudden.

“Regardless, we have sat here and spoken on the matter long enough.” Salem announced. “Hazel, you will continue to act as the gatherer of information. Do not threaten anyone unless you believe such will lead you to your goal, and be unafraid to bribe them heavily in exchange for information. I care little for the lien I have built up.”

Hazel nodded his head.

“Tyrian, I will have you trail Ozma’s group. They are, in my eyes, the most likely to come into contact with that girl if she is not brought back to her father. Do not make yourself known to them. I understand that you have business with the Silver-Eyed girl, but such will have to wait for a later date.”

“Of course, my goddess,” Tyrian bowed.

“Cinder, you and your cohorts will move to Argus. It is the second largest city on Anima, and the most likely destination for someone looking to leave the continent. You will keep track of all of those attempting to flee the city, and keep abreast of the situation with the Atlas military in that sector as well.”

“Understood.”

“Watts, after you have made contact with that man, go to Atlas yourself. It will likely be her destination, seeing as how Vale is all but in ruins.”

“As you say.”

“Well then,” Salem cleared her throat, before reaching out and flicking her hand. “You all have your orders. Go, and contact me if anything arises.”

Cinder stood, as did the others, and made her way towards the door. She was the last one out, and was, therefore, in charge of closing the doors.

Yet, as she did, as the gap between those doors grew ever smaller…

Cinder did not miss the almost manic smile on Salem’s face.

Chapter Text

Weiss had, without ever really considering it, been of the opinion that stepping outside of the Schnee Mansion in Atlas whilst winter raged around her was as cold as she was ever going to be.

She had felt that perfectly fair, given that Atlas was, factually, the coldest place on Remnant. Being suspended in the air and in the middle of an already frigid landmass, it regularly saw temperatures dropping to well below freezing, albeit there existed technology – not to mention dress – to counteract the frozen air.

And yet, Weiss realized then and there as she trudged through a snowy forest, halfway between Mistral City and Argus, that she had never really experienced cold before.

She had always been sheltered from it in some way. She had always had warmth to retreat back into if the cold truly threatened her. She’d gone out with Winter to play in the snow, and had snowball fights, and built snow forts – when Winter had been much younger, and she had been, too.

She had lived a sheltered life. It had never been clearer than it was now.

This was pure misery.

Her teeth chattered in her mouth, even as she sucked in on her cheeks to prevent them from actually impacting against one another. She had her arms huddled in to her chest, and was rubbing up and down as quickly as she could manage with her sore muscles, and exhausted frame.

This was cold, Weiss thought. The kind of cold that even one such as Weiss could very likely not withstand for long.

It was below freezing – which was perhaps obvious given the snow all over the ground, and the fact that it was still snowing – and didn’t seem to be getting any warmer any time soon. The sun was well past halfway through the sky, which meant that temperatures were only going to start dropping within the next few hours.

And frankly, Weiss wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.

She’d not dressed for winter travel. After all, she’d been taking a train. She’d dressed with a jacket meant to ward off the cold of Argus, and a few changes of clothes that weren’t any of them particularly heavy.

That was biting her, now. She’d not intended on having to actually be out in this weather.

In her defense, their train had been attacked by Grimm. Grimm that had, for all intents and purposes, quite literally zero reason to be there. Weiss didn’t bother thinking too hard about it. The Grimm were random… well, she’d thought as much a few weeks back.

Still, Weiss had valiantly fought them off, keeping the passengers safe while the trains two Huntsman somehow got themselves killed. She hadn’t seen the one die, but the second had been so shocked by it that he’d been pulled out of the train car by a Gryphon.

Weiss hadn’t seen him again. She could only hope he’d somehow escaped its talons, and found his way back to civilization.

Logic stated that he had not.

She’d ended up having to decouple the last few cars for the front to get away, and whilst Weiss had tried to be on the cars that weren’t decoupling…

Well, she’d hit a snag.

And thusly, so she was, smack dab in the middle of nowhere, freezing her ass off.

Suffice it to say she was not in the best mood.

She had decided early on to only burn her aura to protect her from the temperature as a last resort, but that was dangerously close to becoming a necessity. It had taken a few hits in the battle with those Grimm, and with things as they were, it wasn’t getting a chance to regenerate either.

“I only wish I could do more,” Jaune spoke from off of her back as the wind whipped at her. “Were that I were not trapped within this putrid mirror, I might utilize my magics to warm thy body. Unfortunately, there’s little I can do but keep thy spirits up.”

“My spirits?” Weiss bit back, more than a little bitter.

“Thou hath not noticed? I have been utilizing a spell that inflicts joy upon thee.”

“I-inflicts joy?” Weiss chattered out. “I can’t help feeling like… that’s not the correct word for that.”

“Did thou understand the idea or not?”

She begrudgingly grunted in assent. She didn’t really want to think about the fact that Jaune was pumping raw joy into her, and yet she still felt like absolute shit.

How would she have been without his intervention?

“It was actually accidentally engineered, humorously enough.” Jaune spoke, sounding like he was about to go off on one of his tangents again. “The fear spell was created first, but the man who created it, one of my court mages, quickly realized that by reverse engineering the process for fear, he could create all different kinds of emotionally manipulative spells. I stuck to those that sounded most useful.”

“Joy was useful?”

“Of course. Making someone happy around you can very easily make them think that they agree with what you’re saying, or that your ideas are superior to another’s.”

“So… manipulation, then?”

“Tis what I stated, was it not?”

He had, to be fair. “Did you ever use it that way? To manipulate people?”

Jaune was silent a moment. “…I did not. Such never came up. Never did I find myself in a situation where such would have been necessary.”

“Every time you speak to me,” Weiss shook some snow out of her hair, “I’m less and less convinced that you were ever a ‘Dread King’ in the first place.”

“Ah.”

Jaune didn’t say anything else. Eventually, Weiss conceded that he wouldn’t be at all, and kept walking.

She walked for what felt like an eternity, but judging by the fact that the sun in the sky had only changed position by thirty or forty degrees, it had only been a few hours. How that was possible, Weiss didn’t know, but it was the truth, no matter how horrid.

And yet, as she crested the top of a small hill, she saw what she’d been hoping to see for a very long time.

A collection of buildings in a clearing a kilometer or so from her position.

Some form of civilization.

Her steps went from tepid and tired to energetic and fevered as she clambered her way down the hill, nearly falling two separate times, but barely keeping herself on her feet. She’d have to go back in time and thank herself for being smart enough to ditch the heels and get a pair of actual, Hunter-grade combat boots.

She was fairly certain she’d have died already by now if she hadn’t.

“Why art thou running?” Jaune spoke, and Weiss questioned why he wouldn’t be picking up on the fact that there existed a town just in front of them, but then she remembered he was facing directly opposite her.

“There’s shelter!” She shouted with more energy than she really had.

“Ah, I see. That is indeed exciting.”

Jaune sounded a bit out of it, but Weiss wasn’t really in any state to question him on that given she was charging straight towards the small town.

The closer she got, the more her enthusiasm began to fade, however. It didn’t take long before she started seeing signs that this ‘town’ wasn’t all she’d thought it was going to be. For one, from a distance, it seemed like every house in the village was dark, and there was no life among the buildings at all. None of the chimney’s had smoke rising from out of them, which felt like a huge mistake given that it was freezing out.

More than that, however, as Weiss closed the final bit of distance, she couldn’t help but feel a small chill running down her spine.

Something about this place didn’t feel right.

“Brunswick Farms?” Jaune suddenly spoke.

“Hm?”

“Tis a sign.” Jaune spoke, and Weiss turned to where, lo and behold, a sign that had the words ‘Brunswick Farms’ was hung up.

It had seen better days, what with a few of the letters having lost pieces and parts, and the actual signpost having a great chunk torn out. As Weiss looked around the various farmhouses, she realized that all of them were in similar states.

The wood was rotting in a lot of places, and there were signs of termite damage in some places, with entire houses having collapsed down in on themselves. Weiss cursed below her breath, realizing that this wasn’t quite the well-populated village she’d been hoping to find.

“It appears abandoned.” Jaune spoke unhelpfully.

“Yes, I had figured that out.” She bit out, before sighing. “Sorry. Nippy at the moment, and in more ways than one. Hopefully they left firewood or dust of some kind that I can use to spark up a flame.”

“‘Twould be optimal.”

Weiss stepped forward, pushing open the rickety, rusted metal gate. She tried to shut it, but it seemed the metal hinges had taken that moment to finally give up the proverbial goose, and the door fell into the snow.

Weiss didn’t even bother pretending to care.

The farmhouses themselves within Brunswick Farms had clearly been left to rot for years. Now that she was close enough to see them up close, she could see that a few were still standing, although more than half of those Weiss didn’t want to walk into at all. It seemed as if, much like the gate in, they were just waiting for something to set them off, so that they might collapse like their brethren.

She groaned under her breath, but then walked into the central-most building, which seemed like it might’ve been a town hall or mayor’s home at some point. It was held up more securely because of that, and Weiss was at the very least moderately confident it wasn’t going to come crashing down on her if she sat down.

She did just that, stepping into the space, and, finding a carpet that didn’t look like it was filled with maggots, collapsed down onto it.

She hissed out in pain as the aches of the full day she’d spent walking caught up to her.

She hadn’t realized just how much the muscles in her calves and thighs hurt until they weren’t required. She massaged at them gently, grimacing as pain flared within them. Even as she did, she felt the chill hitting her body from not moving.

She needed to find some manner of material with which to light a fire, and she needed to do it soon.

She cursed as she brought herself back onto her feet. Jaune was still tied to her back, and sure, that added a good fifth of her bodyweight on top of her… well… body, but she liked the company. In all honesty, if he really was providing her with joyful energy, she could use the boost.

She walked up a set of stairs on the left side of the room, which creaked beneath her steps. The third to last step shattered out from under her, but luckily, her boot and aura tanked any damage she might have otherwise suffered as her foot went right through the hole.

Her ankle cried out in pain, but unfortunately, she lacked a solution to that, other than to keep going.

She flexed it as she made it to the top of the stairs, and was glad to feel no overwhelming pain. She hadn’t sprained it, or broken anything. That… would’ve been bad, trapped in the middle of nowhere with a sprained ankle and no source of food.

At least water wouldn’t be hard to come by with all the snow. She could put some in a pot over a flame and boil it to cleanse it of impurities, and–

She opened the door to what seemed like the master bedroom, and a scream poured out of her throat.

She stumbled backwards, falling hard. Her eyes were wide, and her hands shook.

Because laying in bed there, side by side, were two dead bodies.

“What is wrong!?” Jaune shouted out.

Weiss was too busy trying not to have a panic attack to really think of a response to Jaune’s words. She just sat there, her breaths coming unevenly, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Weiss!”

She was snapped out of the painful reverie by Jaune’s voice, and she clung to it like a lifeline to get herself back into working order. She’d been momentarily stunned by the bodies, but she wasn’t…

She was a Huntress. Or at the very least, she was one in training. She had…

She had to be able to see things like this, and not freak out.

…Saying that was a lot easier than making it so.

“I…” She pushed out between her teeth. “There are two dead bodies on that bed.”

“Ah.” Jaune voiced out, sighing wearily. “Well… I do not particularly like saying this, but you should investigate them.”

“What!?”

“Do you not want to know if there’s a killer about in this town?”

Gods, she hated that he made sense. She’d only gotten a brief look at them, but she stood, removed the mirror from her back, and held it in front of her as both a pseudo-shield, and way for Jaune to see what was going on.

She stepped into the space, and immediately, Jaune hummed darkly.

“Well… they are very much dead.”

She’d gathered that. As she pulled the mirror away somewhat so she could see as well, however, she figured out what it was that Jaune had been saying.

She’d gotten so brief a look before that she’d not really been able to identify anything else about them, but now that she was looking…

They were old corpses. So old that they no longer even smelled. Which explained how Weiss had been able to walk in and not immediately know something had died here. Their skin had all but rotted away, and it seemed like the frigid temperatures were the only thing that had kept the bodies from decaying entirely.

Weiss didn’t want to do much more than that, but Jaune covered for her by bringing up his own thoughts.

“It’s odd. They don’t appear to be older folk, or at least not the types who might lay down and die in their sleep. Although the likelihood of that occurring to both at the same time, and no one coming to find them, is slim.” Jaune explained. “Added onto that I doubt they simply froze to death. There’s wood all around this place, in a pinch, they’d have been able to find fuel for a fire. This was a community. The people would’ve relied on one another.”

His analysis continued. “It is possible that a plague of some sort hit the village, and that these two, husband and wife, perhaps, were infected, and knew they would perish. Perhaps they simply lied down and accepted their fate.”

“That…” Weiss gagged, unable to stay in the room much longer. “Do you have what you need?”

“I believe so.”

She nodded, before making her way out. She shut the door behind her – the hinges complained very loudly about the sudden movement – before checking some of the other rooms on the top floor.

She still needed to find some manner of fuel to light a fire.

Nothing stuck out to her on the second floor, but as she searched, Jaune talked.

“They were not murdered; at least from what I can see. There were no obvious places where a blade or weapon had entered into them, and the sheets below them had no stains from blood, only from their flesh slowly melting into–”

“Let’s…” Weiss interrupted. “Maybe abridge that somewhat?”

“Ah. Well, suffice it to say I do not suspect foul play in the traditional sense, which is… troubling, since them being there in the first place is quite odd.”

It was. It didn’t really fit with any preconceived notions that Weiss held. Somehow, two people had laid down to rest, and had, for seemingly no reason at all, not gotten back up.

Weiss went downstairs, and checked some of the other rooms. She was quite pleased when she found a wine rack, because, while it could serve as something to drink, it would serve her far better as a fire-starter.

First, she needed something to burn, however.

Luckily, she had a bunch of broken-down wooden structures scattered about the area, which meant she had plentiful firewood.

Weiss walked outside, and was immediately hit with the biting, chill wind that had been accosting her the entire day. She could feel the exact moment that Jaune’s joy magic started up yet again, because suddenly, that wasn’t so big a deal; she could handle it.

“Thank you.”

“Tis nothing.”

She summoned her Arma Gigas to carve the broken walls into smaller pieces of wood that could be used for kindling, and then had it haul a rather sizeable amount of the stuff back to the house she’d crashed in. She wasn’t quite a fan of the fact that there were corpses upstairs, but…

Well, she didn’t have many options, given every other house looked either one bad day away from collapsing in on itself, or already had.

As she was walking, Weiss felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she turned suddenly, raising Myrtenaster to fend off a threat…

But she found nothing. Nothing at all. Just an empty, snowy forest.

…Already, the fact that she’d found corpses had her jumpy. She was reacting at every little thing. She needed…

She needed to focus.

Even if, as she turned, she could’ve sworn she saw something move at the very edge of her vision. She ignored it, and soldiered on.

Finally, however, Weiss managed to make it back into the main house, and threw the wood down on the porch outside. She vaguely knew that she was supposed to keep it from getting wet, because wet wood didn’t burn well – or something along those lines – and so she pulled it inside one at a time after a while. She’d have liked to use her Arma Gigas, but the roof wasn’t high enough for it to fit, and if she made it smaller, it wouldn’t have any more ability to lift the wood than she did.

Thusly, she conserved her aura, and did things the old-fashioned way.

Once she had, she threw a few logs into the fireplace in the main room, poured wine atop them, and then she emptied a bit of fire dust from Myrtenaster’s phials.

She struck out at it with the tip of her blade, and created a small spark, enough to take on the alcohol, and set the logs burning.

Weiss felt like she could finally breathe after hours and hours of manual labor, and so when she plopped down this time, she shucked off her boots, and her coat, and placed them on the floor around the fire to dry. She would’ve done the same with her dress if she felt more comfortable being almost naked in such a situation, but given she didn’t, she kept it on.

Jaune’s mirror was set against the couch off to her left, half-facing her, and half-facing the fire. She looked over, and saw him… contemplative.

He had these moods every once in a while, and honestly, he normally delved into stories of his past, which Weiss wasn’t quite willing to admit she found fascinating.

“I do not believe either of us have much to be doing at the moment.” Jaune suddenly spoke, and Weiss jumped in place, albeit minorly. “Wouldst thou wish to hear more of my tale?”

Weiss couldn’t quite hide her interest. “I… wasn’t sure you’d be willing to share more.”

“I was not, either.” Jaune admitted, chuckling below his breath. “But… seeing Salem again… there was something eye-opening about that entire affair. She was… gone. The young woman I remember, at the very least, was not present within that monster’s visage. Perhaps, somewhere at the very back of her soul, that girl still resides, but… I shan’t hold my breath for her return.”

“It… simply has me thinking on what it is I’m doing here. What my goal is. I had thought to take revenge on Ozma and Salem, but… well, I suppose you’ve figured out by now that, to me, it had been but a few minutes since I was sealed away by the Gods when you awoke me from my slumber.”

She nodded her head.

“I had just moments before my awakening been sealed away due to the Gods, Salem, and Ozma working in tandem. That… contributed rather heavily to my initial anger, rage, and spite at the world. In all honesty, mirroring the fact that thou did not initially believe my story, in truth; I did not believe thine own, either.”

Weiss’ eyes widened. “You… didn’t think I was telling the truth?”

“Hah, of course not.” The man chuckled. “After all, what was more realistic; that I had been thrown somewhere for a few months, and had emerged in the halls of some wealthy princess, or that I had been lost for a hundred thousand years?”

When he said it like that, Weiss couldn’t deny that such would’ve been hard for anyone to believe.

“I doubted you. I thought you told me but lies. That you were a mere pawn of the wretched gods, delivering unto me false prophecies. It was not until our escape, until I saw the fractured moon in the sky, and the city of Atlas, alongside the landmass of Solitas… that I realized the truth. That everything in my entire life had long since been lost to me. I hid my emotions away well, I feel. I doubt thee suspected a thing.”

She hadn’t.

“Even so, the way that I… exploded upon that woman who ran that bandit camp… well, it was mainly Ozma’s magic hanging about her, and a way for the both of us to escape from that place unscathed, but it was also… a disappointment with the world, I suppose? I had once fantasized about removing evil from the world entirely, as you know with my attempts to manufacture a spell that could sap the darkness from a person’s heart.”

She’d seen it in action, yes.

“But such never resulted in anything. Even so, I suppose I thought… that in the future, people would be better than we had been. That they would rise above petty squabbles, and become a better… species. And yet, that did not happen. From your own account, I came to realize that things such as classism and racism still existed within Atlas, and from your words, the entire world. Despite a whole new species of beings coming into existence with these faunus people, humanity was ever as it was. I discovered that people were still segregated by borders, and ideologies. And then we were captured by bandits when at our weakest, when we needed help… I suppose that acted as the final straw.”

“You were… calm while we were captured.”

“I had to be.” Jaune spoke, and he let out a sigh. “I have always had to be. I am a king. A king cannot speak his true emotions when there is work to be done. A king must forge onwards, never wavering. Thus, I presented a strong front, and I walked thee through a means of escape. But after everything… when I felt Ozma’s magic, that was merely the tipping point. I had been broiling for quite a while already.”

“Regardless,” Jaune shook his head. “I am getting off topic. What I had been meaning to say is that I have come to realize that thou might be my only true ally in the world at the moment.”

That… was likely the case for her as well. Her team, of course, she felt she could trust, but she didn’t think she’d be able to trust them in matters relating to the mirror.

It seemed Ozpin – Ozma? – had gotten to them first, and fed them his version of events.

And even if she didn’t want to admit it, she cared about Jaune, and wanted to protect him.

“And so, because of that, I wish for thee to know the truth of my rise to the throne.” Jaune finished, looking over at her from within his mirror, the reflective sheen of the glass he was trapped behind glowing in the firelight. “Do you wish to hear of it?”

“If you’re sure, then yes.” She nodded her head. “I can’t admit I’m not curious.”

“Tis good to hear.” Jaune’s voice suddenly took on a somber tone. “There are… many individuals of that time that have faded from this world entirely. Many who do not exist now even in myth; their stories forgotten. If I am to be the last man in this world who will still remember them, then… I wish to regale thee with their stories. For they deserve to be heard.”

Weiss nodded her head, curling up somewhat with her knees pulled up to her chin, and her arms wrapped around her legs. It was warm, and with the fire, she could actually feel herself beginning to relax.

It was strange how relaxed she felt. Like she could just… lie back and close her eyes, and not do anything at all…

…

“Weiss?”

She snapped from out of her own head, looking over to see Jaune staring curiously at her.

“Apologies,” She coughed into one hand. “I admit that the exhaustion of the day is getting to me somewhat.”

“I do not have to tell this story now. Anytime would–”

“No, please,” Weiss shook her head. “Tell me. I wish to hear.”

“If you are positive, then…” Jaune cleared his throat, before his lips curled up into a gentle smile.

“Let me tell you of my decision to raise the peasant armies of D’Arc, and the liberation that we brought to our home, together.”

Yet as Jaune began, Weiss missed the way that the Relic of Knowledge began to give off the faintest of glows.

/

Marie and James were dead.

It was the kind of cold shock that Jaune had felt but once before in his life; when one of their housemaid’s had come by his room in the middle of the night to inform him that his mother had passed.

This was different. Before, he had been a child, with nothing to do but scream and cry, heedless of others, and their feelings.

Now, he was an adult. Nineteen years of age. And he could see the way the entirety of Oakenshire wilted.

It was on all of their faces, the few hundred people who lived in the tiny village. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone’s name. Jaune passed the baker – Woodrow – standing in front of an unkneaded pile of dough, lost in thought. He walked towards the shoemaker’s abode, and saw the woman – Elaine – carving too deeply into the piece of leather she was working on, clearly out of it.

He could not blame either; he himself was much the same.

He’d intended on allowing himself to zone out whilst he tended to the cattle, and yet, it seemed even that would not be allowed. He saw a great procession at the edge of the farm that Jaune worked at, and his eyes narrowed as he watched the man who’d taught him – Archibald, though literally no one called him that – stare at a set of armed men, who were hauling away entire sacks of grain and throwing them into wagons.

When they had mostly cleared away, Jaune stepped up towards the man who’d given him hearth and home when he’d had nothing.

“Archie, what is the meaning of this?”

Archie turned suddenly, seemingly startled, but when he saw Jaune he relaxed. He was still on edge, though. They all were, in fairness. “Ah, you’ve not been ‘round for this before, have ‘ya?” Archie sighed out as Jaune closed the distance between them. “They’ve come to take the king’s tribute.”

“Tribute?” Jaune’s eyes narrowed as he looked over towards where half of their cattle were being loaded into the backs of a great many carts. “They’re robbing us blind!”

“Yes, well…” The man ran a hand through his fading hair. “Not much we can do ‘bout it.”

Jaune begged to differ. These people… they were no men of the Kingdom of D’Arc, that was for certain. This was all some great lie.

His brother would not have allowed this.

He stepped past Archie, ignoring the man’s calls that such was going to get him killed. That, too, served as the fuel that Jaune needed. These people were not his brother’s men. His brother’s men were fair, and just. He’d grown up around the knights of the castle, had watched them as they marched about, did their formations, and protected the people of their Kingdom.

He would not allow bandits to steal away that which Oakenshire had slaved away for months to produce.

“Halt!” He called out to them, and all but a few of them entirely ignored his words. “Halt, I say!”

One of them, seemingly a higher-ranked man, sneered. “And just who believes they can give such an order to the warriors of D’Arc?”

Jaune nearly wanted to spit at the man’s feet. “Thou art no warriors of D’Arc, contemptable fool!”

The warrior stood a bit straighter, then, and his hand drifted down towards his blade. “I do not believe I like thy tone, peasant. I will give thee but a single chance to grovel for forgiveness before me. Perhaps then I will spare thy life.”

If Jaune had been angry before, he was livid now. His magic – mediocre as it otherwise was – coursed through him as surely as the fury building within his veins, and he allowed a bit of it to show on his skin, a level of control that someone from the countryside would never be able to manage.

The man in front of him evidently noticed, for he took a step back.

“Thou dost not know to whom thy speak,” Jaune spat out, and even if he had grown accustomed to living amongst the villagers of Oakenshire, he would not forget where he had come from. “I am Prince Jaune D’Arc, Scion of the house of D’Arc!”

“Prince–” The man took yet another step back, before another sneer ran through him, and he shook his head. “Ah, I suppose it makes sense we would run into thee eventually. Thou art the reject, then?”

Such conjured up memories of his banishment, and before Jaune knew it, black magics – the only kind he’d ever been any good at using – flared to life within his palms. He would’ve unleashed them on the man in front of them, if not for Archibald tackling him from behind, and wrestling him to the floor.

“What in the god’s green earth are you doin’, boy!?”

Jaune attempted to free himself from Archie’s grasp, but couldn’t manage it. He had grown stronger working on the farm for a year, but Archibald was forty-two, and had the sort of strength that came from a life of hard labor, day in and day out.

“Forgive him, sirs, please.” Archibald begged. Begged. A man who had, in his life, done nothing but good and honest work was forced to beg in front of a man who Jaune could tell at a glance was the scum of the earth. “H-He’s grown fitful in his time here. He means no offense.”

“Archibald–!” Jaune hissed.

“Quiet, boy!” Archibald hissed back. “I’m tryin’ to save yur’ damn life!”

The man above them – men, at this point, given that a few other warriors had come over to inspect the commotion – hummed uncaringly.

“Fine. The king has asked for you to be left alone, regardless. I will simply let this serve as a lesson.” The man spoke, barking out a haughty laugh as he sheathed his blade. “Not to question those of the house of D’Arc. Of which thou art no longer.” He looked this time to Archibald. “Keep thine dog on a tighter leash next time, farmer.”

“I will, sir.”

Jaune’s stomach burned hot with shame. Shame, and fury, and so many other things.

“Begone,” The warrior stated one final time. “And do not enter into my sight again.”

The man turned, and Jaune once more attempted to free himself from Archie’s grasp, but to no avail. It wasn’t until he had walked twenty or so meters away that Archibald stood from off of him, and Jaune was able to get to his feet.

His body ached from being thrown to the ground, and then clambered upon, but he was otherwise alright.

Nothing was wounded but his pride.

Though that was far from acceptable in his eyes.

“What in the hells havest thou done, Archibald!?” He rounded on the man.

“I’d ask the same of you, boy,” The man shook his head. “And don’t go callin’ me that, like we’re not acquainted.”

“Thou certainly treated me like we were not!”

“I treated you like that because I wanted you alive, boy!” Archibald growled out. “What were you hoping to accomplish by raging at those men? An early grave!? That’s all you would have received.”

As he began to cool down, Jaune began to see some of the truth in Archie’s words. It had him wilting somewhat, his anger fading from him as surely as the black flames gathering in his hands went out.

“Why were they here?” He asked instead.

“I said it, didn’t I?” Archie grunted out as he stepped up beside Jaune, and the two of them watched as fifty or so soldiers utterly ransacked the stores of food that Oakenshire had prepared. “They’re here for the King’s tribute. They take half of what every village in the Kingdom makes, and bring it back to the capital. Usually, the nobles take a fair share of it, and the King and his fair company pocket the rest. At least that’s what I hear, not like I’ve ever been.”

That… but that didn’t make any sense! Jaune thought ill of his brother for his decisions on choosing that blasted girl, Salem, over him, but he had never thought of him as heartless. No, the man thought too much with his heart in matters of his daughter.

How could this be allowed?

Perhaps… Gods, but it sickened Jaune to even think of it, but perhaps this was a policy that had been put in place long before his brother had taken the throne. Perhaps the Kingdom of D’Arc had always been doing this, even during his father’s reign. Perhaps this was just normal.

“How long has this been happening?”

Archie thought for a moment, running a hand through his greying beard. “…Twelve-odd years? Started a year or two after the old king gave up the throne.”

Jaune… he couldn’t believe that.

Yet Archibald didn’t stop speaking.

“There was always a tax; but that comes part in parcel with being protected by the Kingdom’s soldiers. We used to pay around ten percent of our yearly production in taxes. That was reasonable, for us, given that the warriors would come around and cull wolves and bandits in the area, keep us all safe. But the new guy in charge wasted no time upping that rate when he took the throne. Hell, he also took a lot of the benefits away that we used to see for our taxes. No one comes and patrols the areas anymore, and because of it, we have to go out and protect ourselves. You weren’t here for it, but four years back, young man named Jerome lost his life when he was assaulted by a pack of wolves whilst trying to hunt down the one that had gotten a few of his chickens. Brutal business. Found him in pieces. Just bits left over.”

Jaune’s stomach turned, and not just because of the story. That… that was to imply that it had been his brother who’d instituted these policies. More than that, he’d done so knowingly, and almost immediately.

And he’d stripped the people of what their taxes had once been used for.

…For what?

“Was a reason ever given?” Jaune asked, turning towards his mentor here in the lands outside the castle town. “For retracting the soldiers, for reneging on their duties?”

“Hah…” The man shook his head. “None more than there ever is. We’re peasants. A lot of those nobles up there in their fancy castles think of us the same way as they do the cattle we raise for ‘em; just beasts that provide ‘em food. ‘Cept at least we clean up after our animals. At least we take care of ‘em. They’re not even doin’ that.”

Jaune stood rooted to the spot, his breath catching. This was all…

“How… how have you allowed this for so long?”

Archie laughed, like the question in and of itself was ridiculous. “What other choice did we have, kid?”

…

It was odd. Jaune had spent the majority of his childhood not wanting to be king, not wanting to ride horses, or wield blades, or learn powerful combat magics. He had spent the majority of his childhood alongside the thinkers of the D’Arc Kingdom. Those who looked to the skies, and the ground, and the horizon, and questioned the point of all of those things.

They had wondered about the fact that a man could start on a path, and walk for years and years, but eventually end up in the same place. They had come to realize that their planet was not a flat plane, as many had postulated, but a sphere.

They had come to learn about gravity, and the way that it had, indirectly, formed their planets shape. That a flat disc of their planets size could not exist without breaking down around itself.

They had wondered what the small, dotted lights in the sky were, and so they had built devices that would allow them to peer into the very heavens. Most had shown nothing at all, but some… some had revealed themselves to be closer than others, potentially other spheres, just like their own.

And yet, despite his interest, despite how much he had wanted to remain among them…

He had had that choice taken from him. Or perhaps, he had made the choice to do right by his family, and by the people of the D’Arc Kingdom, by becoming the king that would follow in his brother’s footsteps when one day he relinquished the throne.

He had not given all of that up so that this might happen. Clearly, there had been a mistake. His brother’s rules were being ignored by those looking to profit off of those at a loss. Those soldiers… they had come and taken from the people of Oakenshire at their very lowest.

He was not about to allow that to stand.

He brushed himself off as he stood to his full height, and took several deep, calming breaths. He couldn’t leave today, but by the morrow…

“You’ve got that look in your eye, boy,” Archibald suddenly spoke. “That same look I get in me’ own when I’m about to do somethin’ stupid.”

Jaune chuckled. “Is that the limit of the faith thou hath in me, Archie?”

“I’ve got faith in ya’, but I’ve also got eyes. You’re plottin’ somethin’. What it is?”

“I will go to see my brother.” Jaune spoke, and the man’s eyes widened. “This… what is happening here is ridiculous. He would never stand for it. Someway, somehow, there has been a mistake. I will aim to correct it.”

“And just how are you going to go about arranging such a thing? Were you not banished from that castle a few months back?”

It had been the better part of a year at that point, but that was semantical. He understood what Archibald was getting at.

“I will beseech him honestly. He will at least hear me out. He may, if he wishes, drag me into his throne room in chains so long as he speaks with me at all.”

“And what will you tell him?”

“The truth. That the barbarism being committed outside his line of sight is nothing like what our father stood for. He will do right by thee and thine; I swear on the Brothers’ themselves.”

Archibald had a frail look hanging about him, like he didn’t quite believe Jaune’s words. Jaune understood, but he knew more than anything that this wasn’t right.

And he wasn’t going to allow his brother’s name to be besmirched by the bastards who’d taken from Oakenshire what was theirs!

“…Good luck, prince.” Archibald spoke as he made his way back towards town, to gather supplies for the journey ahead of him.

Jaune could not but laugh. “Worry not.”

“I shan’t need luck.”

Chapter Text

The villagers were not terribly pleased with Jaune’s idea, but then, he’d not expected them to be.

He was, ostensibly, going to go ride to the Kingdom that had just banished him, and stolen from them, on horseback, and tell the nobles in the capital off for their behavior.

“We don’t want to lose you, too, kid,” The tailor – Darwin – frowned at him. “You don’t need to do this. We can pay that tax. It ain’t comfortable, mind, but we’ve managed just fine the last decade or so.”

“Thou should not have to.” Jaune shook his head, his noble way of speaking reminding him of just how different his and the people of Oakenshire’s circumstances were. How lucky he’d been to be born in a castle, with his every need waited on. “On this, I shall not waver. My brother is… I am confident if I tell him of what it happening here, he will take strides to prevent it. He is an honorable man, that I swear to you.”

“Jaune, please,” Elaine, their shoemaker, placed a hand on his shoulder. “We… we just lost Marie and David. We can’t lose you, too.”

The fact that they cared so much for him… it astounded him, truthfully. He had shown up barely a full year ago, and had done so under less than favorable circumstances. He’d complained, and spat in their faces, and yet, even so, they’d stuck by him, calmed him down, and showed him how life outside the kingdom of D’Arc truly was.

And they’d helped him through the process of learning to live that way himself.

…He would repay them. Yes, his reasoning for going on this journey was partially for that selfish reason; because he felt he owed them. He did owe them.

And he was not one to leave his debts unpaid.

“I will return within two fortnight’s,” Jaune spoke, no longer allowing them to question his decision. “If I am not back by then…”

“Don’t say that!” Barker – one of their town’s militia members – shouted out, biting down on his lower lip. “You… you’re comin’ back, got that!?”

He looked around at the faces surrounding him, and he saw in all of them that same emotion that lurked upon Barker’s face.

They were scared.

Scared for him.

…

He did not deserve such kindness. Not after how he had treated them.

He would make it up to them. He would get back their earnings, or, if that could not be done feasibly, at the very least prevent any more tributes from being taken.

“Then I shall return.” Jaune nodded his head, even as he turned towards Archibald, who had saddled up a horse for him.

“You take good care of Delilah, y’hear!?” Archie huffed out, putting on a show of being more combative than he really was. He was always a blusterer, but a very kind man when one got past that.

Jaune…

He would come back to them. He swore it.

“I will.” He told Archie, even as he walked up to Delilah, pet her briefly, and then hoisted himself up and onto her back. She skittered for a moment before settling, and Jaune reached into the pack on her side for an apple, which he allowed her to partake of before they made any movements. “Everyone… thank you.”

And with that, he pulled back on the reins, turned Delilah around, and was off down the long road.

/

He rode for what felt like an eternity. The countryside of the D’Arc Kingdom wasn’t particularly expansive, but trying to cover it on horseback was not exactly the easiest thing to do. It was a green but hilly region, and more than that, its surface was adorned with rocks, and crags, and dips and ditches.

It was rather dangerous territory for a horse to be traveling through, and Jaune had to take a much more cautious route because of it.

The most direct path into the D’Arc Kingdom was unavailable, cutting straight through those environmental problems he’d just mentioned. He ended up snaking his way around the long way, and arriving on the doorstep of the D’Arc Capital some two or so weeks later.

He just hoped the people back at Oakenshire wouldn’t worry too terribly much. He was likely going to be longer than he’d initially claimed, having not properly accounted for the obstacles in his path.

Even peasants from outside the country were allowed within the D’Arc Kingdom’s capital, or, at the very least, the lower ring, where the peasants stayed. The capital counted on it, in fact, in order to boost trade and keep the economy stimulated.

The guards at the gate only checked to make sure he had no weapons upon him, and once they had, they let him through.

Magic, of course, was a weapon, but then, every human in the world carried that to some degree.

Although Jaune’s, perhaps, didn’t particularly count.

It had been a year since he had last seen the capital, but in that time it had changed significantly. As he had been escorted out the last time, there had been stalls and vendors lining the main streets, peddling their wares. There had been hustle and bustle abound. There had been a life to the city that Jaune had, even then, taken some modicum of pride in.

Now, the streets were all but barren.

Except, of course, for the soldiers. There were at least twenty-five of them in Jaune’s sightline alone, and the way the road wound to the left and right up ahead prevented him from getting a particularly good look. That there were that many to be seen…

The Kingdom of D’Arc had changed. And not at all for the better.

Now that he was in, technically, his first order of business was actually finding a place to put Delilah where she would be safe while he went about his business inside the walls.

Luckily, he knew for a fact that there was a stable not too far into the peasant quarter. That was where he currently was, having just entered into the castle town; or, well, that was to say that he was in the quarter largely populated by those that constituted peasants within the castle town of D’Arc. In a place like Oakenshire, the people here would’ve likely been considered nobles.

Here, they were simply workers. People who kept the Kingdom standing.

They were the most important people in the Kingdom. The lifeblood that allowed the D’Arc castle town to flourish.

And yet…

Where were they?

It was not terribly late. Perhaps it was eight or nine in the evening. There should’ve still been great processions about, those going into and out of taverns, producing loud merriment; even those simply looking to partake of the evening air.

There was no one. The only people roaming the streets were the guards themselves.

And that struck Jaune as odd.

Almost insidiously so.

Even so, he made his way towards the stable he remembered, and was pleased to find it manned. The woman there nodded towards him in greeting, but certainly seemed to lack the cheer he’d grown so used to as a child.

“What’s going on in the city?” He asked her as he allowed her to take Delilah. “It’s… quiet.”

“Ah, well…” The woman looked around, making sure no one was listening in. “The king’s instituted a curfew as of late. There were some groups talking about him and the nobles in a less than savory light, to put things bluntly.”

That… so the peasants had begun to question his brother’s leadership? But… that didn’t make sense! Had his brother simply lost all authority? Had he been stripped of his position, and been made to be only a puppet ruler? Had he always been?

Anything else…

It was an impossibility.

“That’ll be a silver a night,” The woman said as she came back.

He nodded his head, fetched a few golden coins from his pouch – enough to have Delilah taken care of for months if need be – and handed them to the woman. She was evidently stunned.

“This is…”

“Take care of her well.”

“I-I shall, milord.”

“I am no lord.” He laughed, before turning, and letting his smile fall.

Not anymore.

He made his way towards the upper levels of the castle town in no real hurry. He wasn’t even certain he’d be allowed in in the first place. When he came up to the entrance to the upper quarter, or the noble district, as it was sometimes called, he found the gate barred, and a plethora of guards outside.

“Hail,” One of them flagged him down as he approached. “State your name and business.”

“Archibald of Oakenshire.” Jaune lied. “I’ve come to speak with the king regarding our villages’ tribute.”

The man looked to one of his allies, and the two exchanged a quiet conversation.

“I’m afraid the king isn’t currently receiving visitors at the moment.”

“Surely, at least one of his advisors could hear what I have to say,” Jaune was, again, lying, given if he was let in, he’d make his way to his brother through hell or high water, but that counted on him being let in in the first place. “I need not trouble the king, but I wish for him to hear–”

“The castle is not currently accepting visitors.” The man reiterated, and his voice was far less kind this time. “If you wish, you may state your business to one of us. We will speak with the king regarding it in the near future.”

That, too, was a lie. The guards this far out from the castle weren’t going anywhere near the structure itself. Those chosen to defend the King, and those chosen to defend the lesser nobles, were an order of magnitude different in status.

This man would go nowhere near the king. But he was attempting to placate Jaune.

That was worth something, at least.

“No, thank you.” Jaune pretended to sigh out in defeat. “If the king will not hear my words… then I’ve nothing to say.”

The man nodded, and Jaune turned himself around. He walked for a long while, long enough that he could confirm that no one was following him, and that those from earlier could no longer see him.

Then, he ducked into an alley.

It was time for plan B.

He made his way towards the wall that blocked off the noble’s quarter at a brisk pace. He didn’t want to seem overly suspicious to anyone that might spot him, civilian or otherwise, but he wanted to make good time all the same. He covered the distance he’d walked back in roughly two minutes, and when he reached the wall, he inspected it for impediments that might hold up his plan.

For as many guards as there were inside the town itself, there were far fewer than there had once been guarding the walls. It didn’t take Jaune very long at all to find a portion of the wall that wasn’t being patrolled, and he sat about thinking up ways that he could get inside the noble quarter.

He could of course simply climb the wall; there were a variety of different magics that would allow him to cling to the solid stone. Though that would end up putting him on the top of the wall, where he would have to climb his way back down on the other side.

To say it was risky was an understatement; he might as well have advertised his presence to anyone in the immediate area. If anyone spotted him, he’d have nowhere to run.

Which meant that, even if it was going to be a risk, and that he was leaving himself rather open to being discovered later, his best bet was likely…

He channeled in his hands a very bastardized version of the magic that the stone masons of the capital had shown him, when he’d been young and wanting to learn as much as he could about their world. It was, in essence, simply a form of magic that moved what was in front of it. it ignored the weight, and minimized the friction of moving said object as much as it could.

They had used it to craft brilliant marble statues of his parents, of figures of legend, of those who had passed on, but deserved to be remembered.

He was going to be using it to dig a hole.

Thusly, his version didn’t need to be quite so precise.

Another benefit of using magic for something like this was that, for all the material that he was moving, the spell made very little sound. It was akin to the sound that would be made if one were attempting to use a pick for the same job, the sound of the stone cracking apart, sailing through the air, or scraping against more stone was all that was really emitted.

It would have been loud if one was immediately near him, but he was using magic to deafen the noise at a long range. Past 5 meters, no one would hear a thing. He still needed to be quick. All it would take to undo him would be someone looking over the side of the wall, or happening to patrol the area he was hanging around.

And frankly, that was something he was looking to avoid.

In the end, creating a hole that went under the wall took only around 10 minutes. That was due in large part to the fact that Jaune didn’t really have to be all that careful. It would’ve taken less time if Jaune weren’t so poor with non-dark magics, but alas, he was.

It was also due in large part of the fact that the people of the D’Arc Kingdom had grown complacent. He’d expected that he would’ve perhaps had to undo magical alarms as he went, or to break through a magical barricade. Instead, he’d only had to go through stone, and the occasional bits of dirt.

And as he emerged from out of the ground within the noble quarter, on the other side of the wall, no one was the wiser.

Immediately, he set about covering the hole that he’d made inside the wall. The one outside he’d have no choice but to leave, but this one, at least, he could cover with a plank of wood perhaps.

Luckily, he found what looked to be an abandoned – or at the very least unattended – shipment of wood. He didn’t take any of the wood itself, since that would be obvious, but instead took the tarp that had been resting atop them.

It didn’t make for the best camouflage, but hopefully, at a single glance, it would mask the damage that had been done, and stop the alarm bells within the city from being raised.

If it didn’t… well, Jaune didn’t fancy his chances.

He had little time to question this, however, given that he needed to make his way to the castle in short order. The noble quarter, unlike the peasant quarter, was a lot more like what he’d expected. People were out and about, shouting out with gaiety – and some with irritation – as they strolled down the streets. Occasionally, a man on horseback would go by, or a carriage carrying an entire family.

Jaune had originally been planning on sticking to the shadows, but… well, that was unnecessary. With the amount of people out, he’d have been more suspicious looking like he was trying to avoid being seen.

So, instead, he simply kept his hood up, and kept going down the street. He was bumped into by a drunken noble, who simply sneered at him instead of apologizing. It was funny; in just the year he’d been gone, he’d almost managed to forget how annoying these people could be.

He’d once come down here with one of the scientists from the castle, and something similar had happened.

The noble in question had been so very… crass, up until Jaune had noted that he was the prince.

The man’s tone had changed instantly, unsurprisingly.

It was all a game of status to these people. They cared not for their fellow man. Only their own images.  

Jaune sighed, annoyed all over again.

He arrived at the castle itself after twenty or so minutes of walking. The castle town was not vast, but it was sizeable, covering around a mile and a half in its totality. As he walked up to the gates, he found them to be, unsurprisingly, guarded.

And guarded quite heavily.

He sat there a while, pondering just what it was he wanted to do. His options certainly weren’t plentiful.

And then, all at once, they were taken from him entirely.

He had but a single moment to feel the magical differential closing in around him before something smashed down on his back. The air was taken out of him all at once as he was thrust to the floor below, his face impacting against the stone hard, and blood pouring from his lips.

Someone was kneeling atop him.

He hadn’t even the energy to resist as multiple other guards nearby ran towards him, and it was only then that Jaune realized that they’d been aware of him the entire time.

They’d simply been pretending not to be.

“So,” A voice above him spoke. “The prodigal son returns.”

He couldn’t get a good eye on the man who was holding him down. If Jaune had to guess, he was one of the castles’ main assassins; someone who specialized in stealth. He’d gone around, waited for Jaune to lower his guard, and then pounced.

Who knew how long he’d been there, trailing him, and Jaune had been none the wiser?

That was it, then.

If they wanted it to be so, he was dead.

There was nothing he could do.

And yet, instead of slitting his throat, the man hauled Jaune up with his arms in chains. He was at their mercy entirely, and being led wherever they wanted him to go.

Jaune’s magic that had broken through the earlier wall, and tunneled him into the noble quarter, could have gotten him out of them, but…

Well, he’d have been killed before he could make it far.

“Ah, so it was you, after all.”

The voice that echoed out, then, was one that Jaune instantly recognized. He might have not heard it since he’d been banished, but he would not have forgotten it.

It belonged to his brother, after all.

Jaune was forced to kneel by the man standing behind him, thrown to the ground, and with a boot at his spine.

He looked up at his brother, and took in the man’s appearance.

He had grown older, of course, as one did when time passed, but it was evident in his face in a way that it had not been the last time that Jaune had seen him. There were lines creased into his skin that made him seem a decade older than he was, and his hair had grown long, unkempt.

Despite that, his crown shone in the moonlight atop his head, and his finery was clearly of the upmost quality. He wore a golden cape, lined with white fur that very well might have belonged to a breed of wolf. His chest was adorned with a shimmering breastplate, and his legs with armor.

That he wore such things outside of battle was an odd thing for Jaune to consider. There was no true reason for him to do so.

But that wasn’t currently his concern.

“Caeser.” Jaune bit out between his teeth.

“Jaune.” His brother spoke evenly, somehow unaffected. “It has been a while. A year, now?”

“Ten months, with exception of a few days in either direction.”

“Hm. Thy memory remains better than mine.”

The small talk was pointless. Jaune didn’t even want to bother.

“Who saw me coming in?”

“I did.” The man announced casually. “Though ‘saw’ is not the correct term. I sensed thee utilizing my magic. Thine own magic upon the winds was familiar. Far too much so for me to simply ignore it as it crested the edges of my periphery.”

That his brother was capable of so much both astounded and disgusted him. He could somehow keep the entirety of the D’Arc Castle Town under the gaze of his magic, and yet…

“Tell me, Jaune D’Arc,” His brother annunciated every syllable. “Why art thou here? I do believe I was quite clear when last thee stood within these walls that thou were never to return.”

Jaune shook his head. “I have come to tell thee that thine nobles are running rampant on the outskirts of the world. They are taking advantage of the people of the countryside; taking tribute from them, but truly? They are robbing them, and granting them nothing in return! I know for certain that such would not be ordered by thee, but the fact that such has escaped thy notice is–”

“It has not escaped my notice.” Caeser cut him off. “It was my policy, after all.”

Jaune’s eyes widened. His breath caught. All at once, it felt like the world was coming down around him.

Beliefs he’d held steadfast to for his entire life cracked, and gave way. A torrent; a flood of emotion poured from out of his chest, and he could do little to stymie its flow.

He’d been denying it for so long, but now, he had the truth from his brother’s lips.

This had been him after all.

“Thou… truly did this!?” Jaune yelled, shaking his head, and trying to break himself free from the hold the guards had on him. It was ironclad, however, and he could not budge them. “How could you!? Did our father’s words mean nothing to you!? About being a just, fair king!? About how the people of our Kingdom are who we rely upon!?”

“His words?” Caeser spat. “What use are his words to this country’s future, Jaune? Our father ran this country at a terrible deficit. By spending so much of our power on making sure even those townships furthest out from us were still protected, he sacrificed much. We grew poorer by the year, and our position on the landscape of this world grew weaker and weaker. The policies I have put in place may not be popular with those on the edges of our domain, but I assure you this was a necessary step to make sure that the Kingdom of D’Arc will stand atop the hierarchy of the Lands of Light for time immemorial.”

“The hierarchy!?” Jaune shook his head. “You mean to say that we are still Chief among the Lords of Light!?”

“Of course.” His brother smiled. “A title we shan’t abandon for such paltry reasons.”

“Paltry reasons!?” He raged. “What is a title against the lives of your people!? What is honor when people are sick, and starving, and ravaged by the elements, and they can but call to you for aid, yet go ignored!?”

“Hmph.” Caeser sneered. “I see trying to speak to you was entirely pointless.”

“Thou…” Jaune clenched his teeth. “Thou art–”

“Thou understand nothing, brother. I shan’t ask thee to. This conversation is over. Guards, take him–”

“Father?”

The voice was quiet, almost faltering, and Jaune’s eyes were drawn behind Caeser, where a young girl, with flaxen blonde hair and pale blue eyes, stood on the path that led to the castle itself.

He knew her, of course. She had grown quite a bit in the time he’d been gone. She’d shot up like a stalk, growing at least half a foot. Her hair was longer, and her countenance far more noble.

But she was still that same girl.

“Ah, Salem,” Caeser’s expression changed entirely. Gone was the uncaring visage he had donned before. In its place was the love and affection he’d always held for his daughter. The only thing, it seemed, that still got through to the man beneath the veneer of a king. “Thou shouldst not be outside all alone, darling.”

“Oh, father,” Salem rolled her eyes. “I am fourteen! I can be trusted to walk the grounds of the noble quarter! Thy worry is unfounded!”

“Yes, well, until thou art an adult, I do not wish for thee to put thyself at risk.” He chuckled at Salem’s groan. “Now, head back inside? Your father has to have a conversation with someone.”

“Who is–” Her eyes widened as she made eye contact with him. “…Uncle Jaune?”

Jaune didn’t say anything. Or, well, it was more that he couldn’t. The man above him had cast a spell to make it so that he could not form words. The magic showed no visible sign of the strain it took upon him, either, upon his face.  

To Salem, it likely looked like he was choosing to remain silent.

He wanted to tell her all of what her father was doing, for she evidently did not know. He would have kept his true nature from her. She had always been sheltered, and likely always would be under Caeser.

“Alright, father.” Salem sighed, before reaching up and wrapping her arms briefly around her father’s shoulders. “I love thee.”

“And I love thee as well, Salem.” The smile on Caeser’s face was so pure that Jaune could almost forget how dastardly his brother had become.

And that was the last sight he saw as he was hauled to his feet. Salem, walking back towards the castle, ignorant to what was happening. Caeser, his body turned halfway towards the castle, and halfway towards Jaune, staring at him with flat, emotionless eyes.

And the castle he had lived his entire life within, now rotting from the inside.

/

“Weiss?”

She was… out of it.

Weiss wasn’t entirely certain as to why. The story wasn’t particularly exciting in terms of content, but in terms of what it told her about Jaune, it was gripping.

…at least, it should’ve been gripping, should it not have been?

Yet her limbs were slack. Her eyes were lidded. She was…

“I’m tired.” She noted, but her voice lacked energy, feeling. “I think I’m going to lie down.”

“Art thou sure?” Jaune sounded somewhat perturbed. “My story is only just beginning.”

“I’m… tired.”

Jaune’s eyes narrowed. It looked almost like he was leaning forward within his mirror – though, obviously, such was not possible – as he inspected her.

And then, his face paled.

“Oh, no.”

Instantly, Jaune’s entire demeanor shifted. He began to channel magic in his hands as he swore below his breath, and though Weiss was minorly intrigued, she was far more worried about resting her eyes.

She’d had so little time to relax of late. Would it be such a crime to just… lie back and sleep?

“How could I not have recognized the signs!?” Jaune bit out. “The one species of Grimm that are an actual threat! Hold a moment, Weiss; I shall bring thee back.”

“What are you–”

Suddenly, energy surged through Weiss’ chest. It felt like she could breathe, like her mind could think. She hadn’t even realized that a fog had settled over her brain until it had been lifted, and suddenly she was returned. She let out a gasp, like she’d emerged from under the water, having nearly drowned.

“There.” Jaune let out a breath, not of effort, but relief. “That’s about all the feeling I can muster. It should have freed thy senses from the Apathy’s control. Art thou present again, Weiss?”

“Yes, I…” She shook her head. She needed to focus. “What happened?”

“Those people who passed away in the houses around us, they were not sick. They were drained of the will to live by the Apathy. A species of Grimm that preys on the minds of their victims. Have thee any experience with them?”

“Only vaguely.” Weiss admitted, biting down on her bottom lip as she grabbed the still partially wet clothing she’d been drying by the fire, and donned it once more. “Where are they?”

“I’ve no idea. Obviously around, but if thou want any more than that, then–”

There was a crashing noise at the back of the house, and Weiss felt her stomach dropping in her abdomen as she realized that it wasn’t just the sounds of crashing…

But of scratching, and moaning.

“Ah. I do believe we’ve found them.”

She took up Myrtenaster as she hauled herself to her feet, and pointed her blade towards the sounds.

“Should we fight?”

“Dost thou desire to go back out into the cold?”

“No.”

“Then we’ve little recourse. Hopefully, it will be a smaller group – ten or so of them. Any more than that, and… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

She hummed out in agreement and resignation as she threw herself into the next room.

She’d heard of the Apathy, of course. They weren’t a particularly well-understood species of Grimm, largely due to the fact that most everyone who felt their affects died as a result, losing the will to so much as breathe in the end.

The Apathy were an insidious force; they worked without one even realizing it. Oftentimes, they stuck to dark recesses, and affected people around them by virtue of their presence. The jury was still out on what exactly allowed them to do as such; what it was about their physiology that made the very air around them drain the life from people.

But that wasn’t important right then and there.

She was far more concerned with the fact that there were a good fifteen Apathy in that tiny house’s kitchen, with more spewing out of the path to the basement every minute, than she was anything else.

Theoretically, that was still a salvageable number.

But…

Without even thinking, she summoned her Arma Gigas, and tried to swing. The blade, predictably, caught on the doorframe she was stood within. She swore, but channeled the skills that Jaune had coached within her back within the Branwen camp to shrink her summon to around half the size; the same size she was.

The Arma Gigas cleaved through the left half of the room. She took the right.

It didn’t take long to dispatch the Apathy. Whatever they were, they were not combatants. Their long, spindly bodies caved at the slightest bit of resistance, and there seemed to be little if any muscle hanging on their bones. They had not expected to meet any actual resistance, likely because their strange abilities had taken hold of Weiss, before Jaune had rescued her from their clutches.

It was only when they screamed – a shrill, high thing – that Weiss felt some of the effects of their powers strike her once more. She stumbled back however briefly, her eyes glazing over.

Jaune would simply flood her with energy yet again, and she would be back on her feet.

“Stay focused!” He chastised her, and though she wanted to complain that she had little choice in the matter… well, she didn’t really have the time. “Check below. If there are more, then we need to cut off the route they’re taking to make it into the house in the first place!”

It was probably true, even if she was a bit out of it. As much as she did not want to travel into the basement below, they needed to cut off any further Apathy – please, let there not be more – from making it above ground.

There were more on the stairs, and red eyes glowing in the dark. There were too many for her to cull alone, and there seemed to be hundreds of them below, enough so that their eyes lit the entire space in a dull, lifeless crimson. The thing that Weiss cottoned onto, however, was the fact that a few Apathy had spilled over the wine rack as they had crawled from out of the dark.

Well… if they were going to provide her with a perfectly good method of removing them…

It would be a shame to lose her shelter, but it wasn’t like she could afford to stay here with how prevalent they were. She had hoped there were only a small enough number to affect her, but not to force her to leave.

That wasn’t seeming particularly likely now.

So, she retreated. She took the wine rack, and ripped individual bottles from off of it, before chucking them down the stairs, and coating the steps – and a few Apathy in the way – with alcohol. Once she felt she had enough, she took the entire rack with the remaining bottles, and threw the entire thing down the streps.

It impacted against one unfortunate Apathy, shoving it back against the stairwell. Weiss primed Myrtenaster, cycled it to its flame cartridge, and unleashed a burst, even as she began running out of the house.

Behind her, she heard the sound of a fire roaring to life. She heard the sounds of the Apathy screeching out in pain.

She cleared the door, and only then did she turn around, and allow herself to take in what she’d done.

Already, the outside of the house had started to burn. That was probably due to the fact that a good deal of the kitchen had already been covered in alcohol from the Apathy splattering it everywhere, and the fact that the entire thing was made of wood, anyways. It wouldn’t be long before the foundation broke down, and the entire thing came crashing down.

Unfortunately, Weiss wouldn’t have time to appreciate that, because she heard another piercing wail from behind her.

She turned, and her eyes widened to what would have likely been, at any other time, comical proportions.

Because there were more Apathy crawling up into Brunswick. From out of the well just in front of her, and from out of the two or three homes that still stood. There were… dozens of them. Enough that even in a straight fight, Weiss didn’t fancy her chances.

“Raise thy blade, Weiss,” Jaune spoke to her from off of her back. “Do not go quietly, no matter how terrifying what lies before thee may seem. Search for thy moment, and then make a hasty retreat.”

It was as good a plan as any. She took up Myrtenaster, and allowed her Arma Gigas to grow, eclipsing its normal size. Unfortunately, she could hear howling in the distance. More Grimm were on the horizon.

She either had to kill them all, or get to safety.

But would fleeing out into the cold wilds of Anima without any clue as to her direction truly do her any good?

It was as this thought crossed her mind, as this thought passed into and out of her head, that something happened. Something that Weiss had not at all been expecting.

A figure just… appeared in the middle of Brunswick Farms.

They landed atop the snow from some impossible height, as if they’d leapt from the very heavens. They wore a long, black cloak, and were tall and somewhat broad. The figure stood to their full height – likely a foot taller than Weiss, if not more – and turned towards her, entirely irrespective of the Apathy creeping their way towards them.

Weiss’ eyes widened at what she saw. The figure… nothing was clear about them. The cloak covered all but a small window of their face, and that was covered by a helmet of what looked to have once been white and gold coloring.

Though it was long since rusted now.

“Who…” Weiss took a step back. “Who are you?”

The figure before her let out a quiet chuckle, and it was a voice that seemed entirely androgynous, one she could make out nothing about.

“For the moment, I am your savior. You needed assistance, did you not?”

It was the truth.

“But, if you wanted something to call me, then how about…”

And even though she could not see the figure’s face…

It was like Weiss could hear them smile.

“Cheshire.”

Chapter Text

Weiss wasn’t going to admit out loud that she thought ‘Cheshire’ was a stupid name.

Then again, it certainly wasn’t their fault. Most people didn’t pick their names. Weiss certainly wasn’t super pleased about the fact that every member of their family has a name that started with a ‘W’, either, but she didn’t have much of a say in the matter.

“Oh, but we’ll have time for introductions later,” Cheshire spoke, their cloak flowing in the harsh, bitter winds of Anima. “We have some of these creatures to deal with, don’t we?”

Weiss couldn’t much argue with that. The Apathy numbered somewhere in the forties or fifties. Not a ton, but enough to take her on if she’d been alone.

She didn’t want to think about the fact that, without Jaune there to boost her emotions, she’d have been dead in the water long ago. She’d have just… laid down back inside that house, on the cold wooden floor, and sat there until she no longer wanted to breathe.

It was a chilling sort of terror, like there was something crawling up her back, and one that had her wanting to eliminate the Apathy as quickly as possible.

Cheshire, to their credit, wasted absolutely no time. They charged forward, spectral claws growing out of their arms in an odd color scheme, neon-pink and blue. They slashed down at the Apathy, carving them to bits with single strikes. It was an odd semblance, but then, Weiss had certainly seen many that were weirder than that.

Weiss couldn’t see Cheshire’s face, but she had a feeling they were wearing a manic sort of smile by the laughter that poured out of them as they hacked and slashed.

She realized that she shouldn’t be sitting around doing nothing a moment later. She brought up Myrtenaster, and blitzed towards the closest Apathy. It got a blade straight through its protruding skull, and began disintegrating immediately.

The sole positive of fighting the Apathy was that they were very clearly not made for combat. Even when they struck out at her, they did so slowly, and without much energy. She made to block one of their strikes with her blade, but the creature quite literally sliced off its own limb on the edge of Myrtenaster, and then just sort of stared down at the bare wrist with confusion before Weiss cut it down.

In the end it didn’t take much longer than five minutes or so for them to clean up the remaining Apathy. Even so, by the time the last one fell, Weiss had begun to pant with exhaustion. She was running on fumes; having not had a chance to truly rest in well over 24 hours by that point.

It wasn’t like she could just lay down and sleep in the middle of a frozen forest, potentially surrounded on all sides by the Grimm, after all. In all honesty, she’d faced far more Grimm attacks than she was used to on her way to Brunswick Farms.

An amount that almost had her suspicious that something was afoot.

Still, she sheathed her blade onto the slot on her hip, and turned towards her newfound ally.

“Thank you for the timely assistance.” She gave a curt bow. “I am in your debt.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, no trouble at all.” Cheshire chuckled out. “I was just… in the area, so to speak, and thought I’d offer help.”

If Weiss were any less tired, that comment might have raised some alarm bells. As things were, she didn’t have the energy to be suspicious of her savior.

Plus, if they’d wanted her dead, they could have just left her to the Apathy. That, or the cold.

Speaking of…

“I don’t suppose you have supplies to build a fire?” She asked, already beginning to shiver yet again.

“Ah, I’m afraid not.” Cheshire shook their head, still not showing their face from behind the rusted mask they wore beneath their cloak. “Although, I do not believe we currently need to construct one, given the…”

Cheshire gestured towards the now flaming house behind them, And Weiss couldn’t really argue with that.

In the end, they ended up sat around the burning ruins, with Weiss finally, finally getting the chance to unwind. Although…

“Is there a chance that there are any more Apathy in the area?” She asked, hoping that either Cheshire or Jaune would be able to answer her question.

“Hm. I cannot say.” Cheshire was the one to respond, and Weiss was amazed it had taken her this long to realize that Jaune was staying silent because there was a new person in their midst, someone who didn’t yet know she was carrying a mirror capable of speech. “Although, you may wish to ask your companion there. He might know better than I.”

Weiss’ heart skipped a beat, even as she brought Jaune’s mirror from off of her back and held it before her. Jaune wasn’t present within it – likely laying down so as to hide himself – which…

Well, if he hadn’t given himself away, then how had Cheshire known he was there?

“Thou knewest of my presence?” Jaune finally decided to give up the goose, standing up in the mirror and dusting himself off – why he felt the need, Weiss didn’t know, given she was fairly certain no dust collected in a mirror dimension sealed by the gods.

“Oh, for quite a while.” Cheshire giggled. “I have a… sense for these things, you see.”

Weiss didn’t much like that.

“What do you mean?”

“I simply had a feeling there was something more to that mirror than meets the eye.” Cheshire spoke, before bobbing their head from side to side. “Oh, alright, you caught me; I may or may not have seen you talking to it while you were staying within that house. Before you burned it down, that is.”

Weiss was both glad to hear that – it made their new arrival much less weird – and…

“You were… watching us?”

“Well, you did stumble into my neck of the woods.” Cheshire spoke. “I felt it prudent to discover if you were some sort of miscreant. In the end, I saw you having a full-on discussion with a mirror, which was rather odd, might I say.”

A fair response, even if Weiss was loathe to admit that she’d probably looked like a crazy person.

Still, there was something hanging about the back of her head, then. Something that had her growing the smallest bit suspicious of the figure sat beside her, even through the exhaustion hanging about her frame.

“Alright,” She instead pretended as if she’d noticed nothing. “What is it you want from us?”

“Want?” Cheshire tilted their head to the side. “Hm… nothing in particular. Perhaps something of intrigue?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been so very bored for the last little while. I felt it prudent to get out and… see the world, as it were. If you could perhaps point me in the direction of something interesting to do, or better yet, allow me to accompany you on whatever journey it is you’re currently upon, I think that would be swell.”

It wasn’t that large an ask, in truth. Weiss didn’t particularly like being alone in weather like this, in the middle of nowhere, when Grimm only seemed to be growing more and more interested in her for some strange reason. Having a traveling companion – one that could actually fight, as well – would be good.

In that moment, Weiss couldn’t help but notice the way that the lamp upon her hip pulsed with energy. She knew not what to make of such. Even still…

It felt oddly…

…

“Alright.” She spoke. “If you’d like to accompany us, we’re currently on our way to Argus.”

“Oh, how fun. And where is that?”

Hm. Yet another oddity about this person.

“It’s a port town on the northwestern edge of Anima.”

“So, I see. And what’s so interesting about it?”

“Well, for one, we’re going to use it to get to Atlas–”

“Atlas,” Cheshire leaned forwards, as if that word meant something to them. “You said… Atlas?”

“Uhm… yes?”

“I see…” Cheshire giggled. “I see… Alright, then. To Argus it is.”

“You seem… awfully excited about getting to Atlas. Might I ask why?”

“Well, a friend of mine once told me that that was where they were from. I felt it prudent to finally have a chance to visit.”

Hm.  A surprisingly innocent answer. Weiss wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that.

“Alright.” She cleared her throat. “Then, once we’ve warmed ourselves enough, let’s keep moving.”

“Sounds like a plan. But, before that, I don’t believe you’ve introduced yourself.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re correct.” Weiss brushed some of the errant snow off of her outfit as she stood.

“My name is Weiss Schnee.”

“Weiss Schnee, hm?” Cheshire chuckled.

“How wonderful a name.”

/

It was around thirty minutes later – once Weiss’ body was nice and toasty – that she felt warm enough to finally make the last leg of the journey to Argus. It helped that, at one point, Cheshire had stood up, walked a way’s away, and brought back an old vehicle that looked like it could be used to travel the remainder of the way in far more comfort. How it hadn’t entirely frozen over in the time it had been left here was a mystery, but Weiss wasn’t about to complain.

They climbed into the vehicle, although Weiss would be the one driving. She’d never actually driven anything before, but it seemed as if Cheshire was in a similar boat, given the way they looked at the wheel and tilted their head back and forth like it was an entirely alien concept.

Weiss, at least, felt like she knew enough of the basics through osmosis that she could manage.

In the end, driving wasn’t terribly difficult as long as Weiss wasn’t asked to perform any difficult maneuvers. Driving straight was, in fact, very simple. She held the accelerator down, and didn’t turn the wheel.

When dodging trees became a thing she had to do, however…

Well, their progress slowed by a bit.

“I think you’re supposed to avoid the trees.” Cheshire let her know rather unhelpfully as she reversed the truck.

“Yes, Cheshire,” She hissed out under her breath. “I’ve figured that part out, actually.”

In the end, they ended up driving through the woods in near-complete silence for about a day and a half after that. Weiss had eaten nothing but granola bars and drank nothing but melted snow for going on three or so days at that point. She’d gotten less than a fourth of the sleep she likely needed, and she was fairly certain that saying she was running on fumes would’ve been an understatement.

She was running on the fumes of fumes. Which didn’t feel like enough.

“Perhaps I could take over?” Cheshire asked. “I do believe I’ve seen you do this enough to try it myself.”

Weiss was skeptical, but she was too tired to really argue anymore.

She pulled them to a stop, swapped seats with Cheshire, laid her head back against the headrest behind her…

“I do believe we’ve arrived, Weiss.”

She opened her eyes blearily, uncertain as to how they’d managed to cover what had to have been at least a half day’s journey in five seconds. Well, up until she realized that while it had been mostly dark before, it was now bright and sunny out.

Oh. She must’ve really been tired.

Still, just as Cheshire had said, the city of Argus laid beyond them.

It was an impressive and oddly familiar place, mostly because, for all that they were still in Mistral, it very much resembled Atlas in terms of design and architecture. Weiss felt right at home seeing the remnants of snow on the ground, and the tall, clean and relatively new buildings.

There were a few older-looking homes among that number, but that was only because they were styled to appear that way. When Weiss took a closer look as she and Cheshire – with Jaune slung along her back – stepped into the city proper, she saw a potent lack of any aging on the buildings at all.

They just wanted to appear rustic, but like the rest of this town, they were quite new.

“What a brilliant place!” Cheshire laughed as they peered this way and that. “How quaint it is. And so very many people as well.”

“Is this your first time in a larger city?” She asked, wondering how much information she could gleam about her newfound companion.

“Certainly, the first time in one quite so large.” Cheshire commented absently as they leaned down to peer through a storefront window, and gazed in at the outfit within. “Oh, what a fascinating color.”

Weiss allowed Cheshire to peruse the selection at their own pace, despite the fact that she was still tired. She’d slept for… well, she didn’t actually know how long, but it wasn’t the physical exhaustion weighing on her now, so much as the aches and pains of days and days of continuous labor that was getting to her.

And so it was that, tired beyond belief and really just wanting to lie down, Weiss rounded the nearest corner, and nearly had a heart attack.

“Oh?” Cheshire commented absently on seeing her expression. “What is–”

Weiss hushed them as quietly as she could, doing her best to stay calm.

This wasn’t a big deal. Why would this be a big deal?

So, what if she’d just found Cinder, Mercury, and Emerald casually lounging about in the middle of Argus without a care in the world, likely looking for her? She didn’t care, why would she care!?

And so, what, if they had also seemingly found Ruby, Blake, Yang, and the rest of their entourage, who seemed to be entirely oblivious to the fact that two separate groups were watching them a block or so down the way.

“Did we… did we just stumble upon Cinder and her goons stumbling on our friends?”

Jaune, from off of her back, hummed. “That does seem like the case.”

Weiss sighed. “Why must my life be like this?”

“I know not. But I do weep for thee.”

For the moment, as much as Weiss wanted to help out, she was far more concerned with not being spotted. She had a feeling all bets were off if she were spotted by Cinder. She’d likely have to enlist the help of Ruby and the others, and at that point, Jaune would be in danger of being taken away by Ozpin.

And she had a feeling if that happened, they wouldn’t be seeing one another again.

But she didn’t want to let Cinder and the others spy on her friends.

…

“Cheshire,” She turned towards them. “Could you do me a favor?”

/

Cinder Fall was bored.

This was not a particularly shocking revelation; she wasn’t exactly up to much at the moment, and had basically been given the evil-mission-from-the-queen-of-the-Grimm equivalent of ‘sit in this spot and do nothing’ by Salem. She’d been hoping that they’d see some action, at least, but no, nothing.

Well, up until about five seconds ago, when the entire good-guy crew – minus that Schnee girl and her mirror – had arrived in Argus alongside them.

How Cinder, Emerald and Mercury had beaten them there, she had no idea. They’d had to fly back to the Grimmlands, stayed a day or two, and then fly all the way back.

Then again, that group consisted of a good twenty people at this point; ranging from the members of Team’s RWBY and JNPR, to Qrow Branwen, to Ozpin’s newest reincarnation, to Adam Taurus of all people, and his White Fang.

That… well, Cinder wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. It was obvious that the mirror Salem held such interest in had done something to change Adam’s usual… everything, but exactly what that was Cinder could not say.

For the moment, Cinder and her minions were simply blending in, and tracking the good-guy group. Once said group found a hotel, or a place to stay, they would mark it, and be able to keep an eye on them the entire time they were in Argus.

Information was the most valuable asset in warfare, after all.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Cinder jumped in place, but tried to disguise that motion as her simply shifting her posture. She turned towards the sound of the voice with a raised eyebrow, and a hand under her chin.

The person who’d walked up to them was… odd. They wore a dark cloak overtop what sounded like metal armor, although it was entirely concealed from view. Their voice was entirely androgynous, and the only thing noticeable about their appearance was the helmet beneath their hood, which seemed rusted beyond belief.

“What is it?” Cinder had business to attend to, and she didn’t want to be distracted by random imbeciles.

“Ah, well,” The figure danced about on their feet, before coughing into one fist, and then saying, “You’re unbelievably beauteous, if I might say.”

Cinder’s eyes widened, even as Mercury rolled his eyes, and Emerald… well, one of Emerald’s eyes twitched, and she leaned forward with one hand on Thief’s Respite.

As much as it was annoying that some random person had come up to her and complemented her… Well, they weren’t wrong. Cinder was quite the fine specimen. She’d done much to make sure that was the case for years. After all, during her time in the Glass Unicorn, she’d been treated as if she was all but invisible.

And now…

Now she would make sure that everyone saw her.

So, yes, while it was somewhat annoying for this person to come up and appreciate the splendor of her presence, she would not hold it against them too terribly much.

“Indeed.” Cinder voiced, “that you have noticed speaks well to your character.”

“Mm. I must say, in my time in this world, I have never encountered a single person quite as radiant as you are.”

This time, Cinder almost blushed. Almost. She didn’t, but it was a more powerful compliment than she’d ever been paid. She was… well, charmed, so to speak.

Emerald looked like she was attempting to grind her teeth down into dust across the table, and Mercury seemed to have fallen asleep, which was as impressive as it was unsurprising.

“Well, that’s quite kind of you.” Cinder nodded her head.

The person nodded their head, before looking off into the distance, seemingly searching for something. Whatever they were looking for seemed to be gone, however, for they nodded their head, looked back to Cinder, and bowed.

“A pleasure meeting you,” they said in a rather theatrical way. “Perhaps we shall meet again.”

Cinder was not entirely averse to that, in truth. She could use someone around who complimented her more often. Emerald was too sheepish to be honest with her very obvious affections, and Mercury was Mercury, which she felt was explanation enough.

As the person walked away, Cinder nodded her head, satisfied with the last few minutes. She was so satisfied that she’d basically forgotten all about what she was supposed to be doing.

…what had she been doing, again?

Oh, right, keeping an eye on the good-guy squa–

She turned towards where said good-guy squad had been just minutes prior, only to find an empty street, with no one upon it at all.

And no signs of where they’d gone, either.

…Hm.

Well. That was a slight issue.

/

“It appears to have worked.” Cheshire shot her a thumbs-up as they walked back over, and Weiss allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. She’d been nervous about potentially alerting Cinder to her presence, but she hadn’t wanted the woman to be able to keep track of her friends, either.

Still, now that that was done, she had other plans.

Namely, to have a chance to sit down and let her body decompress. She wasn’t willing to do anything else to stop what was happening around the corner. So, instead, she brought out her scroll, looked up where the nearest hotel was that fit her specifications, and then made for it.

Cheshire followed, seemingly just happy to be there.

Weiss ended up at an establishment that was… well, it was fine. Probably the very definition of a 3-star hotel. It had clean beds and showers, however, so even if the checkout time was annoyingly early the next day, and even if the breakfast offered in the mornings wasn’t free, she didn’t have the heart to walk any further to another hotel.

She booked herself and Cheshire rooms, and then took the elevator, despite that likely taking longer than the stairs. She didn’t have the energy.

She made it to their floor, bid Cheshire farewell – after explaining the concept of a hotel room, what they were, why one would want one, and the fact that they were staying in separate rooms – and pushed her way into her room.

It was… a room.

The wallpaper was cracked in a few places. The entire room smelled heavily of cleaning solution. The comforter on the bed looked like it had been made in just about the sloppiest manner known to man.

…It was practically heaven after the last few days.

She shucked off her dirty clothes, and immediately set about using the other thing that this hotel had that she’d been specifically looking for; an in-room washer and drier. Surely, she had had to pay about double the lien to get this particular room, but it meant she’d have clean clothes.

And that was worth the price of admission.

What she hadn’t considered was that she was now nearly naked in the middle of her room. She’d of course been sort of aimlessly thinking that she was there alone, but…

“Ahem.” Jaune coughed out awkwardly from behind her.

Her face went stark red, and she ducked where she was standing, looking over towards the nearby wall, where she’d propped Jaune’s mirror up without thinking.

“My apologies,” Jaune was looking away. “I meant no insult to thy propriety.”

Weiss grumbled out under her breath; debating being upset with Jaune… but ultimately gave up. It was her fault, not his, that she’d been absent-minded enough to strip without thinking about the fact that she wasn’t alone.

“Just… keep facing the other way for a second.”

“Certainly.”

She walked over, turned Jaune’s mirror to face the wall, and then allowed herself a moment to breathe.

“Again, I apologize.”

“You don’t need to.” Weiss sighed. “I’m… going to take the rest of this off so I can wash it.”

“Mm.”

It was as she was taking off her bra and panties – yes, she was going fully nude, but she had no other clothes, and she’d been wearing them and fighting in them for days now, so she felt such appropriate – that she heard Jaune speak yet again.

“Thou art beautiful.”

She stumbled where she stood, nearly collapsing outright as she rounded on Jaune’s mirror.

“W-Where did that come from?”

“I… simply did not wish for thee to think that I was… or…” Jaune coughed, sounding incredibly awkward. “…Pay thee no mind to my words.”

Weiss was doing her very best not to, except it was nearly impossible to do so.

…Ugh, she didn’t want to think about the fact that her face was practically glowing red, either.

She shook her head, before making her way towards the bathroom. As she placed her hand on the door frame, however, Jaune’s voice called out to her one last time.

“Before you bathe, a word?”

“Hm?”

Jaune hesitated for a moment. “…Something’s not right with that Cheshire person.”

Weiss’ eyes widened, before her brow set in a grim manner.

“I know.”

“It feels… odd when we are around them. Something’s… different. Yet somehow familiar.” Jaune’s voice sounded tense. “Yet I suppose that’s not the real giveaway, is it? Because according to Cheshire, they were in the area for quite a while, long enough that they noticed us coming in. But that’s impossible.”

“If they were staying there,” Weiss confirmed, nodding her head. “Then why didn’t the Apathy affect them?”

Jaune nodded his head. “Either they were immune to the Apathy’s abilities…”

“Or Cheshire was lying.”

And Weiss had a decent feeling she knew which of those were more likely.

Chapter Text

All in all, Weiss didn’t really get much of a chance to act on her suspicions. She was too busy trying to A: avoid her team whilst simultaneously keeping an eye on them, and B: avoid Cinder’s team, whilst simultaneously keeping an eye on them.

This was easier said than done.

Nowhere was this more obvious than Weiss being sat in front of the hotel she was rooming out of for the foreseeable future, sipping out of a cup of coffee as inconspicuously as she possibly could, wearing thick brimmed black glasses, a tan trench coat, and a bowler hat that even she was willing to admit might have been a little much.

‘Why was she doing this?’ one might have asked. A fair question, one which Weiss didn’t really have an answer to beyond ‘I need to know what’s going on’.

She was spying on both her team, the different members of Team RWBY and JNPR, and Cinder’s group. The latter were thankfully much fewer than the former were, which meant keeping them in her line of sight was a lot easier.

Unfortunately, they were also doing their best to hide from everyone else, which meant that keeping an eye on them was actually a lot harder.

Slightly oxymoronic. And also, a bit hard to describe.

She was hiding and watching people who were hiding and watching people and also watching the people those people hiding and watching people were watching.

…Nope, not even she understood what she’d just thought.

Cheshire was sitting with her on this particular day. They weren’t the most entertaining of guests, mostly because they simply peered at different things with what seemed to be wonderment. Weiss said seemed mostly because she couldn’t actually tell what Cheshire thought through the mask on their face.

“See anything?” She asked Cheshire.

“Oh, I see that dust prices are rising in Atlas.”

She looked down at the paper that Cheshire was reading, where, sure enough, it claimed dust prices were up by nearly 6% from the last month. Likely useful information, and indicative of just how scarce a resource dust was in a time of crisis like the one they lived in, but nothing Weiss cared about in that particular moment.

“…I’m going to take a walk.”

“Have fun.” Cheshire commented absently, not looking up from the paper.

She stood up from her place at the table and decided to get some time to both travel around and see Argus, and to do some of the more menial tasks she had. In disguise, she would likely be fine as long as she didn’t directly run into anyone she knew. She had Jaune around in case she did. Well, she actually had him with her because she didn’t trust that if she left him in her room, he’d still be there when she got back.

Although, to be fair, she’d done just that with the Relic, and that had yet to get stolen, so maybe she was just being paranoid.

Speaking of…

“So, that relic we picked up,” She cleared her throat, and Jaune hummed out, just to make it clear to her he was listening from on her back. “Do you have any idea what it’s actually for?”

“Well, I can but assume. Given that Ozma and Salem both referred to it as the ‘Relic of Knowledge’, I would thereby assume that it has something to do with knowledge.”

“Yes, Jaune, thank you for your great insight.” She groaned out. “I wonder what the Relic of Destruction does?”

“I would assume that it destroys.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Yes, I had figured that out. I was being sarcastic in kind.”

Weiss grumbled below her breath. It wasn’t really Jaune’s fault that she’d been trapped within this city with nothing to do but people watch. They certainly weren’t getting to Atlas in a normal way, not with Cinder and her goons here. There was Atlas technology in every single plane or bullhead that existed here in Argus, given it was a joint project between Mistral and Atlas.

And somehow, some way, Salem had an Atlesian expert under her employ. Someone had hacked the Atlesian Knights, and made them turn on the citizens of Vale. Weiss imagined that said person would probably have flight logs of people trying to leave the city.

And, if she was aboard a flight going into Atlas, that they’d be there to greet her when she landed.

So, getting on a flight normally wasn’t really an option. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was probably going to have to steal something from someone.

They could have the bullhead back once she’d landed in Atlas, for all she cared. She just needed to get there in a way that didn’t get Jaune stolen, her killed, or both.

She looked back at the table she’d been sitting at thirty or so seconds ago, and saw Cheshire still pouring over the newspaper. It seemed they wanted to be as informed as possible about the state of the world.

Power to them, Weiss supposed. She just had bigger worries.  

She was focused on people like Cinder, and her allies, who…

…

Who had disappeared from where they’d been when last Weiss had been looking.

“Hm.” Jaune hummed out. “It appears that they have left.”

“What do you mean ‘it appears’!?” She stammered out. “You were the one facing them! If I turn away, it becomes your job to watch them! Where did they go!?”

“…I do not know.”

She just groaned as she reached up and massaged at her eyes, trying to stop herself from cursing Jaune’s name. In all fairness, she hadn’t been paying attention either, even while she was facing the table Cinder had been sat at. It was just a lot easier to shift the blame onto someone else.

“Do you… can you feel their magic or something?”

“I did not use my magic upon them, so no. I cannot.”

“Doesn’t she have the Fall Maiden’s power? Shouldn’t you be able to track her off of that?”

“The piece of Ozma’s magic? I can. It’s just a very, very general tracking. I know she’s in the city still. Other than that, however, I am as in the dark as thou art.”

“Do you have a general direction, at least?”

“North.”

They were facing north.

“Thank you for nothing.”

“Thou art most welcome.”

/

In the end, Weiss decided to get some shopping done.

She’d been subsisting off of only hotel food for the last few days, and frankly, that did not make a satisfying life. The hotel room did have a fridge – and frankly, it had better have one with how damned expensive it was! – that she could store things like milk and perishables inside of, so she decided to buy a few things that she could stock there to treat herself.

She had a microwave, but no oven or stove. That ruled out more complicated meals. As much as it pained her, she decided to add single, microwaveable packages of macaroni and cheese to her cart, as well as some snacks and candy.

Her figure would hate her, but frankly? She wasn’t sure she gave a shit at this point. She was moving around enough these days, constantly running this way or that, to the point that she likely needed the raw calories anyways.

She was actually feeling pretty good as she paid for her items, and exited out of the small corner store. She started back towards her hotel, feeling a general sense of calm, and excitement. She was going to be able to eat a hot meal that wasn’t a bagel or those damned fluffy waffles served in every damned hotel for a change.

Of course, something then went wrong.

Weiss wasn’t allowed to have nice things.

A pair of hands grabbed her from off to her left, and yanked her to the side, into an alley just off the street she’d been walking along. She barely had time to realize what was happening before she was thrown to the ground, and the mirror clattered off of her.

She swore out under her breath, even as she drew up Myrtenaster in one hand and pointed it up at whoever had assaulted her.

Oh. Shit.

Cinder Fall stared back at her with a singular eye, and a devilish smile. “Hello there, Weiss Schnee. Fancy meeting you here.”

Weiss very much did not reciprocate.

She analyzed the scenario as best she could in that singular instant. Cinder seemed to be alone. That didn’t mean Emerald and Mercury weren’t lurking nearby. In fact, who knew what dastardly plans the two might be getting up to in that very instant.

/

“You got any twos?” Mercury asked casually, sat alongside Emerald back in their shitty hotel room.

Emerald looked down at her hand.

“Go fish.”

“Fuck.”

/

She had to get herself out of this. If Mercury and Emerald arrived, then she was completely screwed. She didn’t favor her chances with Cinder, but they had to be better than a three on one.

She stabbed upwards, aiming right for Cinder’s face. Her opponent sneered as she dodged the blade by inches, before responding in kind with a harsh kick to Weiss’ nose. She could feel the bone within crack as her head was sent flying backwards, and she hit the ground hard.

She couldn’t sit still. She knew that. While Cinder needed Jaune, she likely didn’t give much of a shit about Weiss at all. Whether she was alive or dead didn’t matter.

And Weiss, personally, quite liked being alive.

She used every ounce of her strength to conjure up her Arma Gigas, and had it swing down vertically in the narrow alleyway, buying Weiss some space.

Cinder dodged the blow by pressing herself against the side of one of the alley walls, but then, Weiss hadn’t really been trying to hit her. She’d just needed to get herself away from Cinder. She ran towards where Jaune’s mirror had fallen off of her, took it up, slotted it on her back, and ran.

She wasn’t nearly as fast as she’d have liked to be, and unfortunately, Cinder was able to utilize the Maiden’s powers to shoot fire out of her arms and legs, catching up to her with ease. She made to grab the mirror from off of Weiss’ back, but Jaune flexed some sort of magic, and Cinder was forced to back away.

“Well, I tried to make her fear me, and run away. Unfortunately, she carries a far more potent fear within her.”

“What?” Weiss yelled back as she ran through a series of different alleyways.

“The fear I attempted to instill in her of us meant nothing. She fears something else with far more fervor. And so even if she is afraid, she will not falter.”

Salem. It had to be. Cinder feared what Salem would do to her if she failed here. No matter if Jaune was terrifying, better to take her chances with Jaune, in Cinder’s mind, than to risk Salem’s wrath.

“Can’t you sap the evil from her!?”

“I could.” Jaune sighed. “Although in this case that would be akin to killing her outright.”

“What!?”

Jaune didn’t have time to answer the question. Weiss was struck from behind by a fireball from Cinder, and fell to the ground beneath her hard. Her knee struck the pavement and though her aura held, it had to expend quite a bit of its remaining strength to keep the bones within from snapping.

Weiss was running out of both time, and aura.

That was bad.

She’d known Cinder was good, of course. She’d managed to take on the entirety of Team JNPR on her lonesome with little expended effort. This was just…

Well, somewhat beyond what she’d expected.

“Are you ready to give up now?” Cinder questioned, raising an eyebrow at her. “Frankly, if you hand over the mirror, I’m perfectly content to let you live. You mean nothing to me.”

“Gee…” She groaned out as she forced herself to her feet. “Thanks.”

Cinder shrugged without much effort. “Suit yourself.”

But before Cinder could make a move, Jaune began to speak.

“I would ask whom thee thinkest thou art; attacking my bearer.”

“Hm?” Cinder tilted her head to one side. “Who I am?”

“Indeed.”

Cinder gave an elegant chuckle, then, like she’d secretly been hoping someone would ask that. Honestly, yeah, she struck Weiss as the conceited type, so that wasn’t much of a shock.

“My name is Cinder Fall. I am the strongest human on the face of Remnant; the very apex of mortalkind. I am the wielder of the Fall Maiden’s might, and the–”

“No, thou art not.”

Cinder stopped. She looked down at Jaune, who Weiss had taken off her back to hold in her arms, so that he could speak face to face with her.

“…Gesundheit.”

“I am serious.” Jaune spoke. “Thou art not the Fall Maiden.”

“…What?”

“The Fall Maiden resides within thee. But tis not thee.”

“…Huh?”

“It is… vaguely insectoid in shape. Roughly the size of an apple. Inside of your chest?”

Cinder just stared. “…Are you trying to tell me that the Grimm Parasite that Salem gave me to take the Maiden’s powers from that Amber woman is the Fall Maiden, and not me?”

“That does appear to be the case, yes.”

Cinder’s eyes twitched.

“Then why can I use them!?”

“It is connected with thy biology. It knows what it is that thou desire it to do, and does it for thee.”

“That… I…”

Jaune was silent for a while as Cinder went through a mental crisis. She looked down at her hands, gathered fire within them, and then extinguished it four or five times, as if trying to test if what Jaune was saying was true.

“Although, I must say,” Jaune cleared his throat. “There exists a slight chance I have been saying all of this to distract thee.”

“Huh?”

And then, with a single flick of Jaune’s hand within the mirror…

The Fall Maiden’s magic just… left Cinder.

It gathered into a ball in front of her, and then, without much fanfare, just sort of… lazily floated into Weiss’ chest.

There was a feeling of intense warmth that suffused her, before that warmth calmed, and her chest stilled.

And then Cinder and Weiss just sort of… stared at one another blankly.

“You… took my powers.” Cinder’s mouth hung open.

“Indeed.” Jaune confirmed. “They are now Weiss’ powers.”

“What!?”

“They are now Weiss’ powers.”

“I heard you the first time!” Cinder growled out, even as she made to summon blades into her hands using the Maiden’s fire, and found… nothing. Weiss didn’t doubt she could still kick her ass in hand to hand, but…

Instead of doing that, Cinder seemed… defeated. She stared at them with an absent look, like she was, mentally, elsewhere.

“I crushed the bug inside of you using some mild gravity magic, and, when the powers sought a random host, used my magic to bind them, take them, and then put them into Weiss. It really wasn’t even all that hard; I just needed a few moments to concentrate.”

“You… but…”

And then, because the world was all just one fever dream at this point…

Cinder Fall teared up.

“But those powers are mine!” She whined.

“Well, not anymore.” Jaune responded.

“I took them fair and square!” Cinder shouted out, her voice shaking with petulant, almost childlike rage. “They’re mine! I wanted them!”

Jaune coughed. “Well, you’re certainly not handling this quite like I expected.”

“Shut up!” Cinder cried out, tears streaking down her cheeks, even from her missing left eye. “That’s not fair! You can’t just… take them!”

“Well, I did.”

“That’s cheating! You cheated!”

“Er… I apologize!”

“Give them back!”

“No.”

Cinder screamed, charging right for them with fury in her eyes.

Weiss panicked, held her hand out…

And a blast of icy wind shot out of it.

Cinder was buffeted backwards, sailing through the air and impacting against the wall of the alley behind her. She slumped down it, seemingly having been taken aback by Weiss’ sudden… Maiden attack, and not having had her aura up.

She was unconscious, though for how long that would last…

“I would run now.” Jaune suggested.

That was just about the best idea that Weiss had ever heard.

/

Weiss made it back to her hotel in a bit of a rush, to put things bluntly. She had run the whole way back, and when the door finally closed behind her, she let out a breath of complete and utter exhaustion, falling to the floor.

Her knee hurt. Her face hurt. Just about every other place Cinder had struck her hurt.

For how bad things had been going, that situation had ended up being… well, quite good for her.

She was now the Fall Maiden, apparently.

Weiss wasn’t really sure what she was supposed to think about that.

“So…” Jaune coughed from under her arm, and she pulled him up so that she could balance him against the wall beside her, because she lacked the strength right now to hold him up herself. “That went alright?”

“Something like that.” She rolled her eyes, before grimacing at the pain blossoming through her chest. Aura or no aura, she’d taken some hard hits. “I could… really use a break.”

“Yes, I can tell. My apologies for not being able to do anything back there. Fear did nothing, and sapping the evil from Cinder would have slain her.”

“You said that,” Weiss shook her head. “But what does that mean, exactly?”

“Hm? Not being able to sap the evil from her?”

Weiss nodded, and Jaune explained.

“With Adam, and the White Fang, there was a reason I could sap the evil out of them and they still emerged as complete people; they were people before that evil took root in them. They were freedom fighters, people with families, or loved ones. Losing those things stoked the fires of revolution within them, and then that revolution gave way to darkness when it corrupted their hearts. But Adam at his core still held a once good man within him, just one tainted to a degree that he was almost unrecognizable.”

“Think of Adam as a dirty dish, for instance. One covered in oil, and tar, and muck. Despite that disgusting refuge upon his surface, lurking beneath was still a dish that could exist on its own, and even shine once cleaned.”

“Cinder is different. Unlike Adam, she never had a foundation of good to be founded upon. She has, likely, never experienced anything such as a positive connection. She is just muck, grime, and oil, shaped into something vaguely like a dish. But if I were to take those things away, to scrub free the dirt, a dish would not emerge. She would simply cease to be. Her mind would be obliterated, leaving nothing in its wake.”

“That…”

“Yes, complicated.” Jaune spoke. “In order to sap the evil from her, you would first need to build a foundation of good in the first place. Something for her to exist within outside of the darkness within her heart. As of now, that does not exist.”

It was… a bit depressing to hear something like that, actually. To hear that Cinder Fall wasn’t really even a person, just a receptacle for the mistreatment and abuse she’d suffered in her life. Just a product of the world.

“I was… disinclined to simply remove her from the equation altogether, although perhaps I should have.” Jaune sighed out.

“No…” Weiss felt some small hesitation playing about her as she said that, but… “I think you did the right thing. She… I can’t say I think we can save her, or something to that effect, but… I don’t just want to delete her from existence.”

“Mm.” Jaune nodded his head. “On that, we are in agreement. I confess that the reason I hesitated myself was because I had met more than a few people like her in my time, scouring the peasant villages on the outskirts of the D’Arc Kingdom, rounding up those who might serve my cause. People who had known naught but hate, and hardship. Sometimes they were slaves, other times children being abused. But… the one thing that stuck with me through it all was that I could never once truly blame them for what had happened to them. Their actions after, yes, I could judge them for. But…”

Weiss nodded her head. “It’s complicated.”

“Indeed.”

“…Earlier… you used magic even though you were in the mirror to crush that bug within Cinder. How did you do that?”

Jaune seemed to appreciate the change in topic. “Magic that can be used through something still works just fine for me. I cannot, for instance, hurl a fireball at someone, as that will just hit the mirror – or I suppose I should say the magical gate – in front of me. But I can use magic that does not need to travel; magic that simply pulses into being, like that gravity magic from before, which only strengthens that which already exists – in this case the natural gravity of the world – or for something like conjuring a summon, since that is merely using magic to replicate something I’ve dealt with in the past at a point in space.”

Weiss rounded on the mirror with wide eyes. “You can summon!?”

“Theoretically.”

“Why have you never done that!?”

“Because I do not know how.”

“…Why did you bring it up, then?”

“Random example.”

“I think I hate you.”

Jaune just sort of shrugged.

/

Weiss had been lying in bed going on two or so hours when she awoke, and her body was still aching.

It was a common myth amongst non-hunters that aura prevented any and all injury. It muted injuries. If one would have broken their nose without aura, then they would avoid that break with it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt, and that didn’t mean she still didn’t need time to heal.

Aura was a helluva drug, but it wasn’t like it made her invincible. She’d still be crushed if a truck fell on her, or something.

So, she had nothing to do but talk.

And she had a few questions for Jaune.

“I’ve been meaning to ask a while, but… at Haven, why didn’t you question Ozma?”

“We didn’t have the time.” Jaune answered, and Weiss believed him. “Know that I wished to.”

She nodded. They’d pretty much had no choice but to leave as quickly as possible once everyone else had been put to sleep. To do anything else would’ve been to risk Jaune’s continued existence.

“How do you feel? Knowing that they’re both still alive; Ozma and Salem.”

“I…” Jaune hummed. “It’s hard to say. I don’t entirely know. You speak of the gods like they are figments of the imagination, but I can remember a world where they were very much present. To my eyes, at least, It seems as if they, too, upset the gods somehow. That, or they found immortality after they left this world, although, from the fact that neither seemed terribly pleased, I doubt that to be the case. I believe they were both cursed somehow. Salem, perhaps, by the God of Darkness, for she resembles too much those blessed by his powers in my age. Those who wielded the raw magics of death and decay.”

The Relic of Knowledge pulsed. Weiss turned towards it with a curious air, herself.

Jaune hummed himself. “It seems as if that relic almost has a mind of its own, on occasion.”

It really did. Weiss did not like that.

Suddenly, there was a knock on Weiss’ door. She looked to Jaune, and the man shrugged his shoulders.

Weiss assumed it was likely Cheshire – although she very much didn’t want to speak with Cheshire at the moment, given that they were starting to unnerve Weiss a bit. Even so, she made her way over to the door, and opened it.

The figure standing there was just about the last person that Weiss had been expecting.

“Buh…” She let out incredibly eloquently.

Because standing there, looking like a puppy left out in the rain, was Cinder Fall.

She looked like shit, to be honest. Her hair had fallen down to cover her face, and her eye was bloodshot. Her cheeks were red and raw.

…’Puppy left out in the rain’ really did feel appropriate.

Weiss prepared herself to be knocked back into her room. She expected Cinder to draw a weapon, and attack her. Hell, she expected Emerald and Mercury to burst through the windows to her room, flanking her on all sides.

What she did not expect was for Cinder Fall to look away, with her lips pulled into a pout, and then say, “I’m coming with you.”

Weiss was certain that she’d misheard her somehow.

“Wha?”

Cinder turned back towards her, looking almost angry. “I said I’m coming with you!”

…No. That…

No. There was no possible scenario where this was happening. She had been about to die at Cinder Fall’s hands no more than three hours ago, and she’d assumed that the next time they met, it would be as enemies.

Not at all the casual kind, either. She was fairly certain that Cinder would be gunning for her with every fiber of her being to take her powers back.

This was about as far from that as could be.

“…Why?” She felt was a fair question.

Cinder looked down at the ground. Her hair was matted, whether from water, sweat, or… something, Weiss didn’t know. She honestly looked like she’d spent the last three hours crying.

…

“Have you spent the last three hours crying?”

“NO!” Cinder yelled with much too much denial. “I just… got something in my eye is all!”

“Okay…” Weiss looked around, where a couple of other people in the hallway were staring at them. “Do you uh… want to come inside, or something?”

Cinder didn’t nod, but she did trudge her way into the room once Weiss made space.

This…

Huh.

“Apologies for the room being such a stye,” she said on instinct. “I haven’t had time to clean up.”

Cinder looked to her with a gaze that seemed to ask, ‘do I look like I give a shit?’

Weiss felt that was fair.

“So… again… why are you here, exactly?”

“Because I’m not the Fall Maiden anymore.” Cinder spoke glumly. “Hell, I was never the Fall Maiden. I suppose that makes sense, doesn’t it? Salem wouldn’t have let someone like me have the powers, would she?”

Weiss looked to Jaune, who raised his hands in the air as if to say ‘I have no idea what to do with this, either’.

“So… you thought to come here?”

“I have nothing to offer Salem!” Cinder shouted, before tears gathered in her eyes and she started crying into her hands. Weiss got her a few paper towels, handed them to her, and then tried not to get too grossed out when Cinder sniffled violently into them. “I’m not the Fall Maiden anymore! I’m just some girl! And Salem’s not going to care! She’ll throw me out like I’m last week’s newspaper if I come back without the powers!”

Weiss wasn’t entirely certain that was true, given that Cinder was still one of the most powerful fighters on Remnant; easily able to contend with entire teams at once, and able to keep up with skilled Huntsmen like Qrow Branwen and Ozpin before she’d gotten the Maiden’s powers. Weiss had a feeling that Cinder would continue to be quite useful for Salem, Maiden or not.

But this might’ve been indicative of how Cinder herself saw people. If they lacked any usefulness to her, then she would discard them. And so, she simply assumed everyone else felt the same way.

It was sad, even if it made Cinder an undeniably bad person.

“So… you thought I’d take you on?”

“You and that mirror need protection from your little group of friends, don’t you?”

“How do you figure that?”

“You’d be traveling with them if they’d accepted you.” Cinder pointed out like it was obvious, and when she put it that way, it was somewhat. “The only reason you’d be keeping yourself hidden from them is if you needed to.”

Weiss grumbled below her breath, but said nothing else. “Fine. But why would you even want to come along with us?”

“Because I have no other options.” Cinder spat out. “And because frankly, at the very least, Salem respects the figure within that mirror. I believe he might hold the key to preventing her from destroying me for my betrayal.”

How Cinder hadn’t thought she could just take the mirror to Salem to earn her redemption, Weiss wasn’t sure, but then, if she tried, Jaune might just choose to sap the evil from out of her, and leave her an empty shell.

It wouldn’t be his first choice, but Weiss felt he would do it, if he had to.

“You’re not really convincing me here.” Weiss admitted.

Cinder pursed her lips, before seemingly trying another tactic.

“Oh, I also feel terrible for all the sins I committed.” Cinder coughed awkwardly, clearly not an actor. “Is that enough for you?”

“Ah, but what a true renouncement of darkness!” Jaune called from off of her back, laughing heartily. “I say she has redeemed herself!”

Weiss’ eye twitched. “You’re being sarcastic, right?”

“Why, Weiss, that’s quite rude of thee!” Jaune tutted. “Cinder has just born her heart for us!”

Cinder looked like she’d been standing in an unmoving line at a check-cashing place for about fifteen minutes; which was to say she looked mildly bored.

“Y’know what, we can talk about this later.” Weiss growled out. “Cinder, you–”

“And also,” She cleared her throat. “I thought that if you happened to perish during your journey, I would be the only other woman around you, most likely, thus assuring that in your final moments, you’d think of me, and I’d get my power just as I was always supposed to.”

Weiss just sort of stared at the woman blankly for a moment.

“One moment.” She said after that, before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

She held up Jaune’s mirror. “…Jaune?”

“What is it Weiss?”

“I get the feeling letting her travel with us is a bad idea.”

“Why, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jaune smiled. “Did you not hear her beautiful renouncement of darkness?”

“Jaune, that was barely anything.”

“She’s trying her best!”

“Jaune.”

“I say we trust her.”

“You are a terrible judge of character.”

“I don’t trust Cheshire.”

“That’s because Cheshire is obviously hiding something, Jaune. They are literally constantly dressed in a black cloak and wearing a mask. It’s not subtle.”

“Well, what’s wrong with wearing a cloak! I happen to think it’s quite a fashionable thing.”

“A cloak that fully obscures the body, and the face?”

Jaune said nothing.

Weiss just groaned. “Fine, but if needs must, you need to be prepared to protect me, got it!?”

“I would not allow harm to come to thee, of that you have my word!” Jaune swore, and Weiss sighed out as she pushed herself to her feet, and exited the bathroom.

“Fine.” She stared at Cinder, who gained the smallest bit of light in her eyes as she heard Weiss agree to take her along. “We’re going to Atlas. Do you have a way of getting us there?”

Cinder nodded. “I can get Watts to alter flight records ahead of time, prevent any of our names from going on the docket. Ostensibly, I still work for Salem at the moment, it’ll be a while before they realize I’ve betrayed them. I might as well make full use of those benefits.”

“And what about your cronies?”

“Emerald and Mercury?” Cinder tilted her head to one side. “Why would they want to come along?”

“Well, they’re your lieutenants, aren’t they?”

“They’d throw me away without thought.” Cinder looked down and away. “I’m too weak to command them any longer.”

“…Didn’t you know them long before you had the Fall Maiden’s power?”

“I’m pathetic!” She shouted, tears gathering in her eyes again.

“Riiiight.” Weiss let out. “Okay, well, that’s the plan, then. You can uhm… leave now.”

Cinder nodded, turning towards the door.

“I will be staying in this hotel for the time being. I’ll inform you as to my room number later.”

Weiss would’ve really preferred if she wasn’t doing that, but she didn’t seem to have much say in the matter.

“I–”

Cinder was gone before Weiss could get a single word in edgewise.

She let out an exhausted, weary breath, trying to get her thoughts in order. It was… proving difficult, so to speak.

Weiss was sort of hoping to get a few minutes to herself, at least, to do just that before the next completely crazy thing the universe was going to throw at her arrived. And yet, not even thirty seconds later, someone else knocked on her door.

She assumed it was Cinder coming back. Maybe to realize just how completely insane what she’d suggested had actually been, and to try and kill her? That sounded about right. or maybe she’d just found a room really fast.

Instead, when Weiss opened the door, her eyes widened.

Because at the door this time was Jasmine Arc.

“Ah.” Jaune whispered barely loud enough for Weiss to hear.

“So, the guest of honor has finally arrived.”

Chapter Text

“I want you to teach me magic!”

Jasmine had been expecting for Oscar – Ozma – to look at her like he currently was; a mixture of shock, mistrust, and doubt all rolled into one. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t, but somewhere in her heart of hearts, she’d known he would.

“And why, Ms. Arc, would I do such a thing?”

It was a fair question, although Jasmine certainly felt like the answer was simple.

“Because I’d like to learn it. Because I think having it on our side would aid us in the battles to come.”

Ozma hummed. “Ms. Arc, you are already quite well versed in magic. In fact, the healing magic you specialize in was so rare in my time that it was thought to be the exclusive domain of the Gods, and those that they’d chosen.”

“That… it’s just like any other field. You just have to learn.” Jasmine spoke. “That’s why I want to learn more. My family passed down the healing magic that I utilize, but it was so… haphazardly taught! It’s all I can do. I’m no good with a sword and shield, the others, they… if I had offensive magic, then I could protect them, I could–”

“What you ask is beyond me, Ms. Arc.” Ozma spoke, shaking his head. “I have not wielded true magics in thousands of years. The last time… I cannot even truly recall, but it was before I split my already dwindling power to create the Maidens.”

She didn’t believe that. Not even for a second.

“Please, sir. If I learn this, then–”

Ozma put his foot down. Literally. Really, he slammed it down, and looked up at her with fervor in his eyes.

“I am not going to teach you, Ms. Arc!” He almost shouted, before seemingly realizing that he had overreacted when others in the house looked over at them. He nodded to them, waving them down, before turning back to her apologetically. “I am sorry, but trust me when I say that I am doing this for your own good. For the greater good of this world.”

Jasmine bit down on her lower lip, even as she nodded her head. She wanted to sneer, but instead simply turned away.

“Right…” She muttered below her breath.

“That’s what everyone seems to think.”

/

Seeing Saphron and Terra again was nice. Seeing little Adrian was also very nice. Heck, seeing Argus again was nice. It had been a while since Jasmine had last had a chance to visit. Nearly… two or three years, now? The whole family had gone to see Saphron and Terra when Adrian had been born.

That was the last time she could remember all the Arcs being in one place.

Then again, it had been Jasmine’s idea to go off to Beacon, thinking she might finally be able to be a hero like in the ancient legends. It had been her idea to steal away Crocea Mors, infused with the Arc Family’s power, for her foolish endeavor.

And in the end, it had been her fault that she’d had to unseal her family’s magic to make right on what her own weakness had wrought.

Reviving Pyrrha…

It went against everything her family had told her as a child. It went against the very tenants of Remnant. Death was supposed to be the end. And Jasmine had gone against that core belief.

She’d forsaken everything she once believed in to save her partner.

The worst part… was that she couldn’t even pretend like it had been a hard decision for her to make.

She’d done it without thinking, and even after thinking, she realized she’d have done it all again.

She was pulled from out of her own head when she spotted a curious sight. She had been coming back from the grocery store, doing a quick run to pick up some items that Saphron and Terra needed. They were nice enough to let their whole gaggle of people stay with them, and so Jasmine wasn’t going to ruin that by being a poor guest.

And that ended up letting her catch her old Beacon crush wearing a tan trench coat, with a brown bowler hat, sipping coffee and holding a newspaper. That was just about as stereotypically ‘I’m in disguise’ as one could get. Jasmine followed her line of sight, trying to find out who she was watching…

Holy crap, she was watching Cinder Fall!

And Cinder Fall was watching them.

…

So, Jasmine was watching Weiss, who was watching Cinder, who was watching the rest of the gang?

Huh.

Complicated.

In the end, Jasmine chose to sit back for the moment, and simply observe. She wasn’t even really sure what she was after. Sure, it was useful to know that Weiss was here, and judging by the fact that there was a mirror on her back, the man within was, too.

But there was another figure at the table with them. A figure who Jasmine couldn’t quite deny a strange familiarity with.

In fact, as Jasmine kept staring, that figure looked up, and met her eyes. They were wearing a mask, some ancient, rusted-looking thing, but when their gaze interlocked with Jasmine’s own, she swore she could feel them smiling beneath it.

They nodded their head to her, before going back to whatever they were doing before.

…She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She didn’t think it was a good feeling.

A few minutes after that, Weiss stood up, and began walking away from the table. The other figure stayed seated, and Jasmine was loathe to walk right by them. Even so, she couldn’t deny that she was curious about where it was that Weiss was going.

So, with some apprehension, she followed behind Weiss as she made her way down the road.

As she passed the other figure, they nodded once more to her.

Jasmine nodded back, almost on instinct.

She didn’t have any idea why.

She followed Weiss for quite a while. It seemed she didn’t really have a destination in mind, or, if she did, then she didn’t quite know the streets of Argus as well as Jasmine. That was hardly surprising given that she’d been born and raised in Atlas, and had, from Jasmine’s knowledge, never actually left it before she’d gone to Beacon.

Being a bit confused in a more rural – well, Argus was a pretty well populated city, but comparing pretty much anywhere else to Atlas made it feel more rural – environment was hardly surprising.

In the end, she made it to a discount grocery store, and Jasmine hung out outside, watching what was happening within. Weiss bought groceries, which consisted mostly of sweets and things that weren’t particularly healthy, and then seemed to be going back to her hotel. Jasmine followed at a medium distance, not close enough to draw attention, or to be suspected of stalking.

…Which she kind of was, actually. It was for a good cause, she swore!

The real problem came when, suddenly, a hand reached out from an alleyway that Weiss was walking by, and pulled her in.

Jasmine’s eyes widened, even as she drew Crocea Mors from off of her hip, and ran forward, trying to find out who it was that had just grabbed her. Unfortunately, before she could close the distance on the alleyway, a massive white blade swung down, and carved a line in the concrete.

Jasmine yelped, hopped backwards, and got out of the way as the sounds of combat continued. She swore beneath her breath, but pushed her way into the alley, trying to get some idea of what was going on.

And what she saw…

Cinder.

Look, Jasmine understood what it was that Nora had been trying to do back in Haven. Cinder was the kind of person who was loyal only to herself; the kind of person who could easily be swayed by having a better situation elsewhere. If they could have managed to convince cinder to turn her back on Salem, then their chances of winning this… whatever this was increased by quite a bit.

But that didn’t mean that Jasmine had to like the woman. In fact, she hated her. She’d been the one who’d gotten them involved in that whole business relating to the Maidens. She’d been the one to attack Beacon, which had fast become Jasmine’s home away from home. And she had been the one to kill Pyrrha, to make it so that Jasmine had no choice but to utilize the magics that had always flowed throughout her bloodline to bring her best friend back.

And that…

She could remember, sitting there, atop the spire of Beacon Academy, reconstituting Pyrrha’s incinerated form. She’d had to reforge her from each individual piece of ash. It had taken hours of painstaking work.

But in the end…

/

“Jasmine?” she could remember Pyrrha looking up at her, her body still flaky from her using the magical equivalent of glue to attach each piece to the next. “You…”

She’d hadn’t known what to say. She’d been so overwhelmed by the fact that the stories her family had always told her were true, that they truly did wield ancient magics even more than she’d been taught, to really think about the fact that just about a few hours ago, Pyrrha had kissed her, shoved her into a locker, and sent her careening off into Vale.

Really, she probably should have thought about that a little bit more, but sue her, she had other things on the brain.

“I… I took a bad hit.” Pyrrha had voiced weakly, and it was the truth. A very bad hit. “How am I…?”

“It’s my semblance.” She’d lied, because there was no way she could tell her the truth. “I healed you.”

“That…” Pyrrha actually laughed, high and terrified and grateful all in one. She’d been so brave, but she was just a girl. A 17-year-old girl, who hadn’t asked for any of this to be thrust upon her.

She’d broken down, then. Thrust herself into Jasmine’s arms and sobbed. Her body had shaken, and in that moment, Jasmine had made the decision that no matter the consequences, no matter what might come about as a result of her breaking her family’s most ancient taboo, she’d do it all again.

No matter if it painted a target on her back to the Queen of the Grimm, spoken about in hushed whispers in the old tales. No matter if it made her an enemy to Ozpin, and his group of loyalists…

No matter if her utilization of magic drew a long-forgotten relic of a bygone age to the surface, where it would be found, as pristine as it had been a eon ago, by a mining team in the cold nothing of Atlas…

She would not regret what she’d done.

“It’s okay.” She’d whispered, clutching Pyrrha close.

“It’s all going to be okay.”

/

She caught up to Cinder and Weiss a few minutes later to find that the latter had seemingly claimed victory. That victory was mostly a moral one, since it looked as if Weiss had gotten the crap beaten out of her, and Cinder looked mostly unscathed.

And yet…

Cinder was crying.

Like, actually crying. Sobbing into her hands as she lamented the fact that the magic of the Fall Maiden had been taken from her.

Which, uh…

Huh. That was something.

Cinder got thrown into a wall by Weiss’ newfound maiden powers, and Jasmine watched it all with a sick sort of interest. She was debating whether or not she should go over and… she wasn’t even sure… finish Cinder off, maybe? Help her? The fact that those two thoughts existed at the same time within her told Jasmine all she needed to know about herself.

She was flippy-floppy, and that was bad.

In the end, Cinder got up about five minutes later. She growled out under her breath, then hiccupped out a little, pathetic sob, and followed some sort of trail that Weiss had left behind. Jasmine wasn’t entirely certain what was going on, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny that she too was more than a little curious.

So, she followed Cinder, who was following Weiss.

This seemed to be something of a pattern that day.

Eventually, Cinder tracked Weiss to a hotel which seemed average in just about every way. The woman manning the counter gave Cinder a room key, which was weird, since Jasmine knew for a fact that she didn’t need a room, and then she disappeared up the stairs.

Perhaps to look for Weiss’ own room.

Jasmine herself had no such problems. The magic of the Dread King was practically screaming at her from this close, and she knew for a fact she could follow it to where she needed to be.

But still… she wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good idea.

In the end, she waited an hour or two. She called everyone, let them know that she was okay, but where she was just in case something might happen, and then followed the feeling within her gut. She walked up the stairs until she felt as close as she was going to get, and then followed the feeling onto that floor.

It turned out that she needn’t have been any more accurate than that, because Cinder was standing in front of the door that Jasmine was after. She and Weiss seemed to be having some sort of conversation, but it also seemed to have just finished up, given that Cinder turned around and stalked down the hallway.

She spotted Jasmine with a sneer, but passed by her without doing anything.

Huh.

Weird.

…Still…

Jasmine couldn’t deny she was curious.

And so, despite the nerves hanging about her…

She walked towards the room, regardless.

/

“You… knew I was coming?”

Weiss was equally as surprised as Jasmine was, mostly because Jaune hadn’t seemed capable of just… tracking people before. He’d been able to spot out Adam and the other White Fang back in the forests of Mistral, but then, she’d just sort of assumed he’d seen them.

“Thou art a rather difficult person to miss, Ms. Jasmine.” Jaune spoke, and for once, his voice sounded almost… soft. “After all, the magic that flows through thee marks thee just as it would’ve someone in my time. Thou feel… familiar, because of that. A familiarity that I have not experienced outside of Ozpin, Salem, and that bandit woman. I suppose it applies to thee now as well, Weiss.”

Oh, right. She was the Fall Maiden all of a sudden.

That was… something.

“Although, I do not believe that is the only such reason that thy presence brings me such peace. Nor the only reason that thine magics steady me.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened, and before Weiss could think to question why…

“So… you already know?” She looked up at Jaune, who Weiss was now holding in front of her. “That I’m your descendant?”

Weiss felt like she’d been punched in the gut, but before she could truly comprehend what she’d just heard…

“Not mine, assuredly.” Jaune chuckled. “I confess I had no time for relationships, or courtship of any kind. But I suspect that thou hail from my brother’s line, or perhaps more accurately, from the union of Ozma and Salem themselves.”

This was the first Weiss had heard of it! Sure, they had somewhat similar last names, but she’d assumed that didn’t automatically mean they were connected after a good hundred thousand years of time!

“Our family tells legends of those days.” Jasmine spoke, half a whisper, as she stepped into the space, and closed the door behind her. On another day, Weiss might’ve gotten upset with her about that – coming in without asking – but… eh, there were other things on the brain for all of them. “Of the Lands of Light. Of the Dread King who rose to claim sovereignty. Of the Gods betrayal… much of it was long assumed to just be stories, but you…”

She turned, and met Jaune’s eyes.

“You can tell me the truth.”

“And… for what reason would I do that, exactly?”

“Because I’m… asking you to?”

“Hm. Tis a decent reason.”

“Really?” Weiss eyed him. “That’s all it takes?”

“Well, I hath told thee much of that time.” Jaune proclaimed, and it was true. “Is it not fair that I do the same for one belonging to my own bloodline?”

“I would think that bloodline is somewhat… distant.”

“Such makes little difference,” Jaune clarified. “At least to me.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that I thought there was no value in your blood connection at all.”

“Thou didst not. Do not worry.”

She nodded her head, and the three of them – well, really two, given that one of them was a mirror – made their way further into the room. Weiss pulled a chair up at the bed to pose Jaune on, and then sat down on it. Jasmine stayed standing.

Over the course of the next hour or so, Jaune laid out the history of the world as he knew it for Jasmine’s sake. Almost all of it was rehashed knowledge that he had already gone over with her, but there were a few bits and pieces that he’d not yet covered.

It was also clear that he wasn’t going to be delving into his personal life with Jasmine. It seemed he didn’t quite know her well enough to tell the true history of the D’Arc Kingdom, or of what had happened after he’d been removed from the capital a second time, and somehow rallied the Kingdom to overthrow his brother, and banish Salem. Weiss very much wanted to hear that part, since they’d gotten cut off last time by the Apathy, but it seemed that particular story would have to be saved for another time.

All in all, however, it was still a thorough telling. Jasmine was flabbergasted by the amount of information that Jaune had presented to her, and was now pacing about the room.

“That…” She shook her head. “Much of what you just told me goes against some of our oldest legends and fables. In our family, it was passed down knowledge that you were a tyrannical dictator who overthrew the just king before you, and that you were eventually overthrown by the king’s daughter, and her loyal knight.”

“I imagine that would’ve likely been the tale told, yes.” Jaune chuckled. “After all, it is not as if I was around to tell my side of the story.”

“I just…” Jasmine frowned. “I thought our families’ lorekeepers would be more accurate.”

“It has been a hundred thousand years.” Jaune answered. “I would not judge thy lorekeepers so harshly. They were going off hearsay of hearsay. Rumors of rumors. Myths of myths.”

“I suppose…”

Weiss was glad these two were getting along, but at the same time, she couldn’t quite hide the question that had been eating at her for a while now.

“Jasmine… why are you here, exactly?”

Jasmine’s eyes widened, which told Weiss that she had, in fact, asked the right question.

“I… well, I followed Cinder here, but I suppose the real reason I was so curious was to see whether or not you would, or Jaune would, I should say, uhm…”

She cleared her throat, steadied her stance, and then…

Bowed.

“I want you to teach me to use magic!”

Weiss wasn’t terribly surprised by this, although Jaune very much was.

“What?”

“I want you to teach me to use magic!”

“No, I very much heard thee,” Jaune shook his head. “I was more expressing disbelief. Thou art a plenty capable magician already.”

“I don’t know nearly enough!” Jasmine argued. “I’m… when Beacon was falling, when my home was falling down all around me, I couldn’t do a single thing! All I managed was to take out a few Grimm. A civilian might as well have been capable of doing the same! Pyrrha went off, and she left me behind… and she also kissed me–”

“Wait,” Weiss interrupted. “I was under the impression you were oblivious to her feelings!”

“Uh, Weiss, a person can only really be so oblivious to their best friend coming onto them, can’t they?”

“Hearing that from you feels wrong.” Weiss spoke flatly.

“Regardless!” Jasmine coughed. “Of my and Pyrrha’s sordid…”

“Love life?”

“Please do not call it that.” Jasmine groaned. “It’s… complicated. She just feels that way because I saved her life–”

“You just said she kissed you before you saved her–”

“I had to use my magic to save Pyrrha, but that was all it could do!” Jasmine blitzed through her attempts to continue talking about her and Pyrrha, so Weiss decided to let it be for the moment. “I don’t want to be helpless like that again! I want to be able to use spells of all different kinds!”

“I see.” Jaune hummed. “And why me?”

“Because no one else can.” Jasmine spoke, before seemingly realizing something, and sighing. “And because no one else will.”

Jaune nodded his head, slowly, with a calculated air.

“…Fine.”

Weiss’ face screwed up. “Jaune, don’t you think we should consider this a bit?”

“Why?” Jaune looked up at her. “What’s to consider?”

“Er…”

/

“Oh my gosh! Weiss Schee! I love your music!”

She laughed, feeling that sense of pride that always filled her when someone complimented her. Fans could grow aggravating in abundance, but a little indulgence every once in a while had never hurt anyone.

“Well, thank you. And what’s your name?”

“Jasmine Arc! Nice to meet you! Do you want to be partners!?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

/

“Weiss! Hey!”

Weiss turned, and lo and behold, it was the girl from earlier on the previous day, before initiation.

Ugh, if only she’d taken the idiot up on her offer, she’d have at least avoided getting partnered up with Ruby Rose, of all people.

“Hello… Janine, was it?”

“Jasmine, but that’s fine!” The girl was incessantly peppy, much like Ruby, so perhaps she wasn’t missing all that much. “Hey, do you want to go out sometime?”

“…As in… on a date?”

“Yeah!”

“…No.”

“Oh.”

/

“Hey, Weiss!”

“Hey Weiss!”

“Weiss! Hey!”

“Weiss, do you wanna’ go out on Saturday!?”

“Weiss, do you want to go to the dance together!?

“Hey, Weiss, I made a song on my guitar! Let’s go to the dance!”

“Weiiiiiiss!”

“No.”

“Oh.”

/

“No… particular reason.” Weiss coughed into one hand. “I just felt like we should consider all our options.”

“Ah. Well, I have considered them.” Jaune cleared his throat. “And I hath subsequently decided that I shall teach magic to Jasmine regardless.”

Jasmine cheered. Weiss sighed.

“However,” Jaune held up a finger. “If thou art to be learning from me, I ask that thou travel with us.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened. “You… want me to go along with you guys?”

“I think that only fair, no?” Jaune retorted. “Thou sayeth that it is thine wish to protect people; I would have thee protect both myself and my bearer.”

Weiss didn’t really need protection, but then, she didn’t actually think that was what Jaune was trying to say.

“I…” Jasmine paused a moment. “I’d… may I consider it?”

“If thou wish to join us, then I must ask thee to do this now.” Jaune shook his head. “We cannot allow Ozma to possibly learn where it is we reside. Especially now that Cinder has decided to join up with us. We will be leaving quite soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Tis a long story.” Jaune summarized in what was perhaps the truest statement he’d spoken in his life. “But regardless, I ask thee choose; will thou go back to those thy care for, with no knowledge of magic beyond that which thou currently possess, or wilt thou come along with us?”

“…I’ll go with you all.” Jasmine decided, and Weiss was quite surprised she’d made up her mind so quickly. “I… if I’m with you guys, then… the chances of bad things happening to Pyrrha and the others… it’s a lot lower. You’re where the action is. Salem seemed interested most of all in you.”

“Understandable, given what once transpired between us.” Jaune nodded his head. “Very well. We will be leaving Argus the moment that Cinder returns, having managed to find us a way out of Argus.”

Jasmine nodded. It was clear from her expression that she was more than a little bit nervous, but she hid it well. More than that, she seemed determined to succeed here.

Weiss respected that determination, even if she also held some doubts.

There was a knock at the door behind them, and all three of them turned when the door opened, and Cinder stepped in. She glared over at Jasmine, before stepping into the room and crossing her arms.

“I’ve gone ahead and registered us all for a particular flight. I’ve had Watts delete all records of the flight’s existence ahead of time. No one will know we were aboard.” Cinder looked to Jasmine. “Although it seems now that I’ll be needing to purchase a fourth ticket.”

“You will.” Jaune nodded. “Jasmine shall be accompanying us to Atlas. And Cheshire will be attending as well, of course.”

“Was that… the masked person?” Jasmine asked.

Weiss hummed out in the affirmative. Jasmine paused a moment.

“…Something’s off about them. It’s just…”

“They feel so… familiar.”

/

In the end, they arrived at the airport barely an hour later.

It helped that none of them had needed to pack anything.

Cinder had a few outfits she was leaving behind, but given that she was using a card that Salem had given her to pay for everything – and Salem had apparently been using the stock market for the last few hundred years, and when one was immortal, they could afford to take a few risky investments – she was in no danger of being unable to refill such a supply.

The only one who was concerned about leaving things behind was Jasmine.

“I just…” She frowned. “I don’t want to leave them all without saying anything.”

“Oh my–” Cinder growled. “Can you be less mopey for five minutes?”

“Forgive me for having people that might actually care I’m leaving!” Jasmine fired back. “I know that must be a foreign concept for you!”

Cinder’s eyes lit up with fire – purely metaphorical, given that she no longer had the Maiden’s powers – and though she made to grab at Jasmine, she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder by Weiss.

“Calm down.” She glared. “Both of you.”

The two of them met her glare with flat expressions, before hissing out below their breaths as they separated, crossing their arms in front of them.

They arrived at their gate and sat down, awaiting the plane that would ferry them across half the world. They were… quite the odd grouping, what with Cheshire wearing a full body cloak and mask, Cinder being down an eye and an arm – and being a wanted criminal, but no one ever seemed to give much of a shit about that, and it was driving Weiss slightly insane – and Weiss being…

Well, Weiss Schnee.

Somehow, no one cared.

Then again, it was an airport. People were probably just too busy hating everyone, everything, and themselves to notice.

“It’s not too late to go back to them, Jasmine.” Weiss told her as she sat down beside her.

“I know.” She sighed. “But… I don’t know. I feel like… if I’m going to face them again, then I need to be able to pull my own weight.”

“You don’t think having the power to raise the dead could be considered as pulling your own weight?”

“It’s… complicated.”

It didn’t sound complicated to Weiss. It sounded like Jasmine was just underrating her own abilities; downplaying them when they were obscenely powerful.

But then, Weiss couldn’t claim that she’d never done the same, either.

It was easy to undersell one’s own contributions, whilst overselling the contributions of others.

An announcement came on over the PA system, and all around them people began to stand, making their way towards the boarding gate.

“Well, that’s our cue.” Cheshire sounded giddy. “Ooh, how exciting! I’ve never ridden in a plane before!”

Why they were letting Cheshire on board in a full black cloak and a mask, Weiss had absolutely no idea. But then, the world didn’t make much sense to her these days, either.

“Come.” Cinder spoke as she stood, and nodded back to Weiss. “Atlas awaits.”

Weiss hummed out in response, even as she stood, adjusted her carry-on luggage – which was to say Jaune’s mirror packed into a suitcase just large enough to fit him – and made for the gate.

She was going home.

It was oddly humorous to her – in a cosmic sort of way – to think about the fact that this had all started from her leaving Atlas. And yet, here she was, making every effort to return.

The world was just like that, Weiss supposed.

She shrugged, even as she walked onto the plane, and sat down in her seat. She let out a breath of relief at finally being able to just… sit down for a while.

Well, she was going to enjoy it for the meantime. She was nearly certain that the moment she touched down in Atlas, something, somehow, was going to explode.

Literally? Figuratively?

Honestly, it could’ve been either. She wouldn’t have been surprised.

Still, she could at least look forward to seeing Winter again.

That would be nice.

/

Winter Schnee stood before General James Ironwood, leaning on his elbows at his desk as he looked up at her darkly.

“You understand, then? She makes to come here. To bring that… darkness to the last bastion of humanity.”

“I understand, sir.”

“You know what you must do?”

“I do.” Winter answered, her eyes darkening.

“I’ll bring Weiss, and her mirror, here to you.”

/

She was sure her sister was getting up to great things, even now.

…Why did Weiss suddenly feel nervous?

Chapter Text

“Attention passengers, we will soon be landing at Atlas Internation Airport. Please fasten your seatbelts as we begin our descent.”

Weiss did as she was asked by the intercom, and buckled her seat belt. To her right, Jasmine did much the same, although Cinder, to her left, seemed to relish in doing the exact opposite, which was to say she almost flaunted the fact that she had not buckled her seat belt.

It was like she was trying to get into the world’s lamest fight with one of the flight attendants.

Unfortunately for her, no one rose to the bait. The plane touched down some fifteen minutes later to little fanfare, and suddenly, there they were.

Weiss was home.

It was… odd to just step out of the plane and suddenly be faced with a rather familiar locale.

She had come to this airport many times with her family over the years. It wasn’t exactly a place she liked to come to, but she held a certain fondness for it in the back of her heart.

Of course, her family had never once flown in coach as she just had; her father had had his own private jet to travel anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice, and honestly, even though he never admitted it, Weiss was fairly sure he had more than one.

“Well,” Cheshire grinned as they stepped out of the tunnel, stretching out their back. “That was certainly an interesting experience. Rather cramped, if I do say so myself.”

“Do people actually fly like that?” Cinder sounded disgusted. “We were packed in there like we were damned sardines.”

“Yes, everyone flies like that.” Jasmine, once more, began to butt heads with Cinder. “Pretty much everyone who’s not some crazy homicidal idiot does!”

“You–”

Somehow, those two never got tired of arguing. Weiss wished she had half of their energy.

She was too exhausted to even pretend like she cared what they were saying.

Meanwhile, Cheshire was walking ahead of her, investigating every little piece and part of the airport. Everything seemed to interest them, ranging from colorful signs, racks of magazines, or even different looking wall tiles

Weiss had sort of given up attempting to understand Cheshire. They were just… weird.

Well, Weiss also didn’t trust them at all. There was just something about Cheshire that had Weiss on edge. From the way Jasmine seemed to be attempting to avoid them as well, that was not at all only a ‘her’ thing.

Cinder had no problem with them, but she was Cinder. That meant literally nothing.

In the end, it took them a good twenty or thirty minutes to get out of the airport proper. That was mostly because of Jasmine and Cinder petulantly arguing back and forth, but the fact that Cheshire would sometimes simply disappear for a minute or two only to come back with something Weiss was almost certain they hadn’t bought did not help.

“Aha!” Jaune let out as she brought him out of her suitcase, after having exited the airport. “I must say, tis dreadfully boring to sit in absolute darkness with no company at all for an entire day!”

“I… can imagine.” She felt a bit bad about that, but it wasn’t like they’d had any other option. She couldn’t simply bring along a giant mirror as a carry-on item.

…Well, she couldn’t in a normal world, but to be fair, she’d entered the twilight zone somewhere around when she’d landed in Mistral, so perhaps she was the one being a bit too serious about this.

She probably could have just introduced Jaune to the people on the airplane, and they would have all accepted him immediately.

She groaned out loud, running a hand down her face.

“What is the problem, Weiss?”

She looked down at Jaune with a sigh. “Simply lamenting the fact that this world went crazy when I wasn’t looking.”

“Ah. I find a good way of coping is to simply ebb with the tides! Go a little crazy thyself.”

“Was that the strategy that you implemented?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jaune laughed. “Let us hope not.”

That didn’t really inspire confidence.

Atlas was, unsurprisingly, very cold. Weiss had had just about enough of the cold, and so the first stop on their itinerary was to head to a local clothing store and buy a few layers that she could immediately bundle up with.

Luckily, one wasn’t all that far. It seemed that there had been at least one person on Atlas who had realized that people coming into the kingdom might not have been nearly as well dressed as they thought they were, and had thus moved to capitalize on taking advantage of their weakness by being first in line to buy a thicker outfit.

Weiss hated the man for charging her one and a half times what any other shop would have almost as much as she was glad that he existed. After all, him being there meant that she could warm herself up as soon as possible. It was a rather difficult conundrum.

Jasmine did the same as her, buying more than one layer that she could immediately throw on, but Cinder stayed in her normal outfit, only throwing a designer jacket on overtop that looked like it had a lot more form than function.

Weiss would have asked, but then, she didn’t actually care.

They paid for their newfound supplies – a frankly ridiculous number of lien that Weiss would not be repeating here – and exited the building. At this point, having flown for the better part of a full day, Weiss very much wanted to just relax. Maybe they could find a hotel that Cinder could book with her obscene amounts of money from Salem?

“Cinder, can you rent us out a hotel?”

She shrugged. “Sure. It wouldn’t even be unusual for me to rent out separate rooms, given that I was never much a fan of sharing.”

“I’ll take ‘least surprising news’ for 500, Alex.” Jasmine quipped.

Cinder just glared at her.

Weiss sighed.

It was as they were walking about, however, that Jasmine suddenly stopped. Weiss wasn’t quite sure why, but she answered a moment later.

“There’s… quite a few ships up there.”

Weiss peered up, and, sure enough, hovering above them in the sky were at least two dozen Atlesian Battleships. They were heavy duty, and seemingly armed.

“I didn’t notice while we were flying in, but…” Jasmine seemed concerned. “What’s going on, do you think? I haven’t heard anything about this.”

Last Weiss had been in Atlas, there had, admittedly, been an embargo about to be put in place, and Dust was going to be kept in Atlas for longer in case it was needed before being shipped outside the Kingdom. Yet even so, this felt like a step up from that.

“It’s as if they’re preparing for war.” Cinder spoke, before chuckling. “Not that they’d have a chance, if their enemy is who I assume it to be.”

“What?”

“They believe that Salem is coming.” Cinder explained. “And that she will destroy their entire Kingdom. In truth, she cares not for Atlas, although she will bring ruin to it in a heartbeat to gain that which she desires.”

“And that is…?”

“Firstly, him.” Cinder pointed towards the mirror on Weiss’ back. “But if not him, then she would be here for the four relics of the old world. And she would do anything to obtain them.”

Weiss realized that the Relic of Knowledge was in her suitcase, which she was currently lugging around behind her as if it was a souvenir.

“I see.” She coughed. “That’s… very intriguing. …So, it’s pretty cold out, huh?”

“It is a bit cold.” Jasmine commented. “But back on the whole ‘Atlas is preparing for war’ thing… what’s going on, exactly?”

“Well, according to some of the people we passed by,” Cheshire sounded amused. “The General here is on a bit of a ‘power trip.’”

“Really?”

“That is what was said.” Cheshire confirmed. “Whether or not that information is accurate; I do not know.”

That was fair. Cheshire was only repeating the words of others. It was becoming increasingly more apparent that there was something… different about Cheshire, but Weiss wasn’t going to question that for the moment. She had other things for her brain to throw about in her head.

To hear such things about the General, though… Weiss was surprised, given that didn’t at all sound like the General Ironwood she knew. He’d always been willing to take any precaution to protect Atlas and its interests, and because of that he could look forceful, even occasionally domineering, but his heart was in the right place.

Or, well… it always seemed like it had been, at least.

Now she wasn’t quite so sure.

It was as they were walking to their destination – a hotel that had apparently been reviewed well, but not so well as to be exorbitantly expensive – that Jaune suddenly chimed in, sounding worried.

“Be aware. We are being both watched and followed.”

Weiss felt her heart jump, and she turned behind her to see…

No one.

Before, with the White Fang, she’d had no trouble spotting those same figures that Jaune had warned her about. Here… here was different.

She couldn’t see, hear, or sense anyone.

“Where!?” She hissed out in a whisper. Jaune gave a noise of consternation.

“I cannot be sure. Above us, for certain.”

She looked up, and saw no one yet again. She wondered what it was that she was supposed to be looking for, even.

“In the buildings?”

“Either in, or above, the buildings. I believe that to be the case. They are likely waiting for you to head to a less populated area in order to strike.”

Weiss bit down on her bottom lip.

“You know they’re going to strike?

“They radiate… not malice, but the intent to harm. Whether that is thee, or I, or all of us… I cannot be sure.”

She swore beneath her breath, even as she turned back towards the others.

They nodded back to her, clearly in the know about what it was that Jaune had just said. There was someone watching them, and making to attack them when they could.

Their job was to not allow that.

Weiss just wasn’t sure how.

“What do we do?” She asked all of them.

“Given that we are likely surrounded,” Cinder took charge, evidently having been in such a scenario before. “Our options are simple; we either fight, or make it out of their effective operating range. We must first figure out who it is that is hunting us. Then, we will be able to identify our strategy.”

“So… what, we bait them out!?”

“That is one method of going about things.” Cinder shrugged. “Unless you have a significantly better plan, then I would simply do what I say.”

She didn’t, and so they did.

They broke off purposefully from the buildings, but not in a suspicious way. They simply took the first corner of the street that they’d been walking down. Jaune confirmed the presence was following them even then, which meant that they likely were atop the buildings, rather than inside of them. They entered a nearby department store, bought a few candy bars, just to have had a purpose to go in, and kept walking.

They were definitely being followed. If it hadn’t been obvious before, then it was now. Whoever it was tracking them had waited for them, and was still on their tails.

Who would be so committed? Was it Ruby and the others? No, that made no sense. They would likely only just now be getting on board a flight to Atlas. It would be a few days until they were hunting them.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Cinder turned to her, either suggesting or demanding, and either way, Weiss did agree.

“Right.” She sighed out, even as she took a right into a nearby alleyway. It would be better for them if they knew where their enemy was going to be coming from, and in here, there would only be three possible entrances.

Either they would come from behind, in front, or above.

Above seemed the most likely. Jasmine was watching behind, and Cinder in front. Cheshire was…

Well, giggling to themselves as they summoned their spectral claws, and impatiently twitching their fingers.

They stayed that way for a good minute and a half. Weiss was fairly certain that whoever it was that was chasing them was waiting to attack in an attempt to unnerve them. Unfortunately for them, Jaune was going to tell Weiss exactly when they–

“They’re coming!”

She swore out under her breath, even as she drew out Myrtenaster, and took a stance. Above her, two small objects were thrown down at her group, and she had just enough time to realize they were some sort of electric bolas before Cinder had shot them both out of the sky with arrows from her bow.

And then figures came at them from both the front of the alley, and the back.

They were people who Weiss didn’t recognize. From the front, a man who held a rifle, with darker skin and a tail. A faunus, it seemed. Behind him came a hulking woman with a giant hammer, which looked like it would hurt quite a bit.

From the back, a man wielding a fishing rod as a weapon, alongside a woman who blitzed directly towards Weiss at a staggering speed, reaching out towards Jaune’s mirror. She was stopped by Cheshire, who swung directly for her, and forced the woman to duck underneath the strike, and end up on the opposite side of the alleyway, with the big woman and the faunus.

Weiss summoned her Arma Gigas as the chaos ensued. There were four of the both of them – their group and the assailants – but judging by the regalia they wore; she was fairly certain that these people were Atlas Special Forces.

They had a snappy name, but Weiss, if she had known it once, had long since forgotten it.

“Focus on the front!” Cinder growled out as she separated her bow into twin blades. “I’ll handle this one.”

Cinder seemed quite confident going up against fishing-rod-guy, but given that he seemed to be the leader, Weiss wasn’t all that upset about it. Besides, if she could cordon off the front of the battlefield with her Arma Gigas’ blade, she could prevent the other three from making any quick advances on them.

The problem, really, was that Weiss was pretty sure there were more than four of these guys.

Someone had thrown bolas at them from above, and unless that speedy-girl was able to defy gravity then there was almost certainly a fifth, or potentially even a sixth member above them, judging by the dual bolas.

That was a problem. Weiss just wasn’t sure how to solve it.

 For the moment, she would focus on the immediate problems; those in front of them. She swung down with the Arma Gigas’ blade, but unfortunately, given she had to leave room for her own people to dodge it, she couldn’t exactly cover the entire alley with the blade, and her opponents were far too good to actually get hit by a slow moving, hefty weapon like the Arma Gigas’.

Weiss swore below her breath, even as she shrunk her armor down to a more reasonable size, and set it off after the man with the rifle, and tail.

“STAY!” He called out, and Weiss felt her entire body just…

Freeze.

She couldn’t do a thing, and neither could her summon. Because of that, it was eliminated a moment later by the big woman. Fast lady was coming right at them, and worse, both Jasmine and Cheshire were entirely frozen.

She was gunning right for the mirror on Weiss’ back.

Except before she could reach it, Cheshire moved. Irrespective of whatever weird power had fallen over them, Cheshire swung their claws down, and sent the quick lady – who had clearly not expected any resistance – careening into the opposite wall. She recovered quickly, managing to dodge the follow-up attack, but she couldn’t make a play for the mirror any longer, and again retreated out of reach.

Weiss could move again a second later, and clenched her jaw as she tried to work out a solution to this problem.

She took stock of the situation first and foremost. They were struggling. Jasmine was a healer with minimal offensive capabilities, and Weiss honestly needed someone to guard her to properly utilize her summons. Cinder…

Had actually already handled her assailant. They had been forced to back away, and Cinder was slowly falling back towards them, coming to reinforce the three of them against their own enemies.

Huh. Having Cinder Fall as an ally and not a hated enemy was actually kind of nice.

Still, with Cheshire having been the only one to resist that weird… call earlier, Weiss didn’t fancy their chances unless something changed.

“Can’t you remove the evil from them?” She hissed out at Jaune, and the man answered rather simply.

“They are not evil. They might be acting on the orders of someone who is – I know little of their circumstances – but much like Ozma, they genuinely believe that they are fighting to make the world a better place. They do so out of a sense of good. Sapping what little evil lies within this group would change nothing. They would still continue to battle on, but just as better people.”

Weiss bit down on her bottom lip. Of course, the spell wasn’t going to just be a get-out-of-battle-free card.

“Enough!” A voice suddenly called out, and Weiss and the other members of their number flinched. The voice had come from above, and Weiss looked up to see…

Her breath caught.

Because while two people fell from above – the first a long-limbed, slim man – the person who landed right beside fishing-rod guy, with steel in their gaze and a fire in their heart…

Was her sister, Winter Schnee.

“Winter!” She called out, thinking they’d been saved. “You’re here!”

“I am indeed.” Winter spoke, even as she took a step forward. Cinder didn’t hesitate to notch an arrow into her bow and raise it so that it was pointed directly at Winter’s face.

Winter didn’t back down, but she did glare.

“Lower your weapon!” Weiss shouted at Cinder.

“I will not.” Cinder argued back. “She is not here to rescue you, only to parley for that mirror on your back.”

Weiss’ eyes widened, and she turned towards Winter with hurt in her gaze.

“…Is that true?”

Winter looked a bit bothered by it, but she nodded all the same. “I am here to take that mirror from you.”

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been such a shock. As a Specialist, Winter was a member, if not perhaps outright the leader, of this group. It would not have happened without her express involvement, at the very least.

“How do you even know about it!?” She questioned.

Winter bristled a bit. “General Ironwood has been informed by Ozpin of its existence, and what must be done to stop it from rampaging across this world. We do this for the safety of Atlas, Weiss.”

She bit down on her bottom lip as she looked around, trying to find an angle out of this. One wasn’t really presenting itself.

“And what’s more…” Winter sighed. “Father is no longer willing to put up with your shenanigans. You are wanted back at the manor.”

“And you care!?”

“No.” Winter spat out, as if that was obvious. “But if I catch you, that means the people father sends after you can’t. More than that, I can prevent this… corruption from overcoming you any further.”

Ah. So winter was trying to save her from her father by capturing her herself, and save her from ‘Jaune’s manipulation’. It was as magnanimous as it was completely unneeded. Weiss wasn’t going to fall to a bunch of two-bit bodyguards trying to apprehend her, nor was Jaune some evil, maniacal dark lord – no matter how much he might’ve wanted to be. She was a damn-near fully-realized Huntress. She could handle herself.

But then, Winter had always looked at her like a child. That wasn’t likely to change in a single afternoon, no matter how capable she’d become.

…They were outnumbered. Alone, or maybe even two against one, Weiss was confident that Cinder could handle any combination of people she’d be put up against. The problem, of course, was that Jasmine in a straight fight wasn’t worth much, and Weiss without someone to back her up wasn’t nearly as versatile.

They weren’t winning this.

Which meant they needed a way out.

That was all well and good, but there were two things preventing them from doing so. The first thing was the faunus man’s odd semblance. He could simply call out for them to stay put, and they would. Perhaps it lessened in effect every time he used it, but that was a gamble that Weiss wasn’t willing to take.

The other was the girl with super speed. Weiss turning her back on her would be tantamount to giving up Jaune.

…They had to find a way to neutralize both. Once they had…

She could institute the final part of their plan.

For the first, she turned to Cheshire.

“Can you buy us time!?” She asked them. “Distract the man who shouted at us.”

“Why, I likely could.” Cheshire nodded. “His abilities seemed to have no effect on me.”

“Then keep him here!”

Cheshire nodded, taking a more aggressive stance. They weren’t going to leap into the fray until Weiss gave the order, which was actually far more restraint than she’d expected.

“Jaune,” She whispered. “The fast one; can you tie her down somehow?”

“I can increase her weight by a factor of five. I doubt she’ll be able to run, semblance or no, once that’s been done.”

“Got it.” Weiss nodded.

“And what will you do?” Jaune asked, even as Weiss prepared to execute the plan.

She wasn’t exactly proud of what she was about to say, but…

Well, needs must, and all that.

“What else?” She spoke, before throwing her hand down, and unleashing pandemonium.

“Run away.”

/

“WEISS!” Winter’s voice called out from behind her, steadily growing in volume after it had become somewhat muted into the background.

“We need to go faster!” Jasmine panted out, despite the fact that Weiss was doing the best that she could to keep their Queen Lancer both pointed straight ahead, and moving quickly.

It was easier said than done!

“Stop complaining or help!” Cinder snarled, firing off another pair of shots as she somehow kept up with them – running alongside them – whilst sniping back at the Specialist group. “Preferably both!”

“Oh, bite me, bitch!”

Weiss groaned.

Cheshire was somewhere around here. They’d attacked the ‘stay’ guy, and then promptly gotten dog-piled by the whole enemy group. Despite that, Weiss knew for a fact they hadn’t managed to catch Cheshire, for she’d seen them jumping atop nearby buildings, barely continuing to evade capture.

Weiss had… she wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected. Maybe for the Specialists to break off from them, and disengage, realizing the folly of continuing to chase them? Maybe for one of Weiss’ group to get captured? Maybe for all of them to get captured?

Honestly, they were doing pretty well.

That luck, of course, had to wear out.

Because as they ran past a couple of barriers – labeled with ‘Do not enter’ signs – Weiss came face to face with something she’d never actually been near in her entire life.

The edge of Atlas.

She was thinking about simply leaving Cinder and Cheshire behind. One of them could maybe follow, and honestly, letting Cinder be taken in by Atlesian Specialists was probably about what she deserved. Unfortunately, a white feather from a hoard of Winter’s Nevermore skewered straight through Weiss’ Lancer, and sent both she and Jasmine hurtling out of the sky.

She swore below her breath, even as she barely managed to keep herself from falling off of the edge. Her foot was maybe a few inches or so from the lip of the rim, and that had her more than a little anxious as she stood back up.

It was… quite a way down.

She swore below her breath, even as she turned to see Winter, fishing-pole-guy, stay-guy, big woman, and skinny guy stepping into a line formation in front of them.

They had them pinned, well and truly.

Their final member, the fast lady, had been incapacitated by Jaune’s spell that had rendered her entire body five times heavier. Jaune explained to Weiss that it would wear off in a few hours, but that they had enough time to get away.

It seemed that wasn’t quite in the cards anymore.

“Surrender, Weiss.” Her sister called out to her. “This is the end of the line, and you know it.”

In a very literal sense, Winter was right; this was, in fact, where the line ended.

But at the same time…

“Jaune…” She muttered. “If you can increase the weights of things, can you decrease them?”

“Surely. What for?”

“Could you make the four of us light enough that we could safely fall to Mantle below us?”

She couldn’t see Jaune’s reaction, but she had a feeling it was rather animated.

“Buy me a few minutes.”

She didn’t nod, but did take a step forward.

“Tell me, sister; do you have no faith in me?”

“Faith in–” Winter hissed out. “Of course I have faith in my sister! But I can see through your trickery. I was fooled earlier, but I know now; you are not my sister, warlock! Do not speak to me with her voice!”

Oh. Right. Everyone thought she was being entirely controlled by Jaune.

Cool. Great.

…Could she… use that?

…

Eh, in for a lien.

“Fine then,” Weiss dropped her voice an octave, and took on a more casual, very not Weiss Schnee stance. “It seems you’ve seen right through me. But I am no warlock, Girl,” She channeled some of the energy that Jaune had once spoken to her with, when they’d first met. “I am the Dread King Jaune D’Arc, Chief among the Lords of Light, and bringer of this land’s demise!”

It was… really stupid. It was a stupid thing she was doing.

Annoyingly enough, if she knew the world, then that meant…

“You fiend!” Her sister cried out, totally falling for it. Weiss had to bite back a sigh. “Unhand my sister, now!”

“And what would you be willing to give up in exchange for her?”

“What?”

“I need not a pawn as fragile as this one.” Weiss spoke, demeaning herself purposefully. If she knew Winter, then she knew her sister would not take kindly to her making little of herself – or, well, to ‘Jaune’ making little of ‘Weiss’. No, she would be unsteady, prone to error like this.

And she might be able to keep her talking.

“So, I am willing to make an exchange.” Weiss held out her hand, splayed as if for a handshake, towards Winter. “If you would become my pawn!”

It was bullshit. In fact, it was A-Grade, ethically sourced bullshit.

Unfortunately…

“…You will surrender Weiss to me beforehand.” Winter spoke; her voice clipped. The other members of her special forces unit looked to her in shock. “Do so, and I shall become your pawn.”

Okay… uhm…

“You care so much for her?” She tried to keep her emotions in check, but…

“Of course, I do!” Winter shouted, and she seemed both terrified and furious in equal measure. “She is my sister, my baby sister! I would do anything I could to protect her!”

Oh. Wow. That… that actually meant a lot for Weiss to hear. Without realizing, she’d teared up, and one streaked down her cheek.

“Weiss!” Winter shouted out, and she thought her cover was completely blown. “You’re still in there! I know you can hear me!”

…Oh. Never mind.

The world was dumb. Everyone was dumb.

“H-Hah, even if she resists,” Weiss continued to play along, despite the way her voice cracked. “I still hold dominion over her–”

“The magic’s ready.”

“Oh, thank the gods.” She wheezed out. “I can only do that impression for so long before my brain begins to turn to mush.”

“I am going to attempt to not take offense to that.”

Winter’s eyes widened. “Wait, what about–

Weiss ignored her sister – though when this was all over, they would have to spend some time together, just the two of them. Maybe have a long talk – as she turned towards the others, and raced towards the edge of Atlas.

“Jump!” She screamed. “We’ll be fine!”

Jasmine’s eyes widened. She looked down at the massive drop, back up at Weiss, paled, and then back down at the massive drop.

“Uh, can I just elect to get arrested inst–”

“Oh, quit being a baby!” Cinder snarled, before practically tackling Jasmine off of the edge of Atlas. Weiss and Cheshire leapt a moment later.

And Jasmine screamed the whole way down.

Chapter Text

Jaune caught them all with some kind of gravity spell, which slowed their descent enough that they could tank the fall from there thanks to their lowered weight. Jasmine was still hyperventilating, seemingly having flashbacks to initiation, where she’d not had a landing strategy to speak of.

“Who just launches someone into a deadly forest while they’re still asking questions!?” Weiss could remember Jasmine going on and on about in the days following initiation.

…Despite herself, thinking back on that had her smiling.

“Let’s move.” Cinder fired off quickly, already standing up. “We need to be as far away from here as possible when they catch up.”

Weiss’ brow furrowed. “You think they’re going to chase us after that!?”

“You don’t?” Cinder scoffed. “Did your sister seem like she was willing to let you get away, and potentially continue endangering yourself?”

It was almost funny how quickly she reconsidered what she’d just been thinking. Cinder had a habit of striking right at the heart of the matter when she wanted to.

“They’ll be on our heels quickly, and our best bet of escaping is not being here when that happens.” She wrenched Jasmine off of the ground – she was still hyperventilating – and glared back at Weiss. “Unless you have any objections to that plan?”

Weiss didn’t, and so they went along with what Cinder had suggested.

They were being looked at like they’d all grown second heads as they hurried along away from that initial drop position. That was mostly because they’d hurtled from Atlas above, and had landed down on a random street in Mantle without any trouble in front of a good three or four dozen people.

In their defense, Weiss probably would’ve been staring, too.

As they walked, Weiss took note of a few things. The first of which was the massive crater in Mantle where Atlas had once rested. It had risen into the sky at some point, and was connected to the ground only through a collection of pneumatic tubes, which likely ferried goods to and from the surface.

The second thing Weiss noticed about Mantle was…

Well, it was the fact that everything down here was so much worse off than it had been above. The people down here walked along without light in their eyes. Without energy in their steps. Many were huddled around the heaters that were keeping the entirety of Mantle from freezing to death, but they didn’t seem to be working all that terribly well judging by the fact that quite a few people were pressed up against them, literally flush against them to try and conserve as much heat as possible.

Unrest was evident, and it was only made worse by the fact that General Ironwood’s voice was booming across the entirety of Mantle, telling them that this was all for the greater good.

Several people were glaring up at his picture, and no matter how much faith Weiss held in General Ironwood, she couldn’t entirely blame them.

“This place…” Jaune suddenly called out from her back, and Weiss pulled him around so that they could speak face to face as they continued walking. “It reminds me somewhat of some of the poorer towns I bore witness to in and around the Lands of Light, before our revolution. The kinds of places that went largely ignored by the so called ‘leaders’ of the time. It was from these places that I gained some of my strongest soldiers, among some of whom carried the harshest of grudges upon my brother’s crown.”

Weiss did not at all like that comparison. Half of that was because she didn’t have any counter to what Jaune was saying.

But she knew the General. She knew how kind he was.

…She also knew that he would do anything if it meant that he could, in his own mind, guarantee the safety of Atlas. Was that what this was? So far, she’d seen so few Atlesian soldiers. There used to be so many more. On the walls, protecting Mantle from the Grimm.

But as they made it to the very outskirts of Mantle, they found the walls rickety, with several large sections taken out, and no guards in sight. There were people atop them, but they looked to be volunteers more than anything, judging by their rag-tag weapons, and different outfits.

Weiss felt her stomach tying itself into knots inside her chest. She didn’t like this one bit.

Unfortunately, before she could give word to her feelings, a great bang echoed out from behind them, and a voice cried out, “Freeze, evildoers!”

All of them turned at once – albiet Cinder drew her weapons, basically proving the point of whoever had just spoke – and…

Weiss’ eyes widened. Jasmine and Cinder were much the same.

Cheshire might’ve also done the same, but given they were still wearing that old knight’s mask, Weiss couldn’t actually tell.

“Penny!?”

The girl in front of them looked shocked to be recognized, and only grew more so as she did some recognizing of her own. Her hair had grown down to around the middle of her back –although grown might not have been the right word – and she did appear to be a few years older, even if Weiss knew that all of that was artificial.

“Friend Weiss!?” Penny called out, taking a step forward before manually stopping herself. “What are you doing here? Why are you holding that mirror!?”

Of course, that was the thing everyone always focused on. Look, Weiss liked Jaune, she really did, but she really wished that anybody would actually acknowledge her these days, instead of just focusing on the thing she was carrying around. Still, what really mattered to Weiss, separate from all the rest, was…

“I thought your partner killed her.” Cinder muttered under her breath towards Jasmine.

The girl herself just glared back.

Yeah. That had been the thing Weiss was thinking about, too.

/

All in all, Penny took that comment about her own death pretty well.

She was, however, taking Weiss’ insistence that she could not take the mirror to General Ironwood… less well.

“You must understand, friend Weiss,” Penny called her friend, despite the fact that they’d shared a few sentences during the entire time they’d known one another. Still, Weiss was a friend of Ruby’s, and that meant quite a bit to Penny, it seemed. “That mirror on your back houses a dangerous lord of dark power. Someone from the days of the ancients, who is capable of bringing doom to the entire world!”

“I am truly not. World ending power really isn’t within my purview” Jaune sighed out from where Weiss was holding him, so that he could talk to Penny. “And please, could you at least acknowledge my existence if you’re going to be trying to steal me away?”

Penny ignored him, instead only looking at Weiss.

“It is important that you not fall for his schemes.”

“Penny…” She sighed. Why could no one ever believe her when she stated that she wasn’t under Jaune’s control? She was very sure she wasn’t acting any different! Gods forbid she didn’t want a friend of hers to be sealed away for all eternity. “It’s not a scheme. Jaune talks a big game, and he is strong, but he has no desire to end the world, or any such thing.”

“I admit that I did at one point say such things,” Jaune spoke, and Weiss wanted to smack him and tell him to shut up, but unfortunately, he just kept going. “But I have since come to realize the error of my ways. Or perhaps I should say that I have come to realize that when I was making such comments, I was lost in the throes of anger and rage at having been sealed away by the Gods, and overthrown by both Ozma and Salem themselves. From my perspective, this had happened mere moments before I awoke.”

Penny’s eyes widened. “You know of the existence of Salem?”

Weiss nodded, before her eyes narrowed. “You do, too?”

“General Ironwood has informed all those in his closest circles about the danger that may yet be ahead of us.” Penny looked up towards her left, past the wall, and at a mountain to the northeast. “Salem could come at any time. That is why we must be ready.”

Weiss… she could see the reasoning behind what Ironwood was doing. Hell, she couldn’t much judge the man for wanting to be able to do everything in his power to help Atlas.

But still…

“I received a report no more than ten minutes ago that fugitives carrying the mirror of the Dread King had dropped into Mantle from Atlas.” Penny spoke. “And those fugitives are none other than your group. I need you to come with me to see General Ironwood.”

Weiss bit down on her bottom lip. “Penny, you know I can’t do that.”

“I do not know.” Penny tilted her head to one side. “I have been provided with General Ironwood’s reasoning; that it is too dangerous to allow someone like this dread king to run rampant when Salem is at our doorstep, but you have yet to provide me with a reason of your own. If you wish for me to know, then inform me as to why you cannot acquiesce to the general’s request.”

Weiss had her answer right off the cuff.

“You just said that Salem is coming. Jaune isn’t exactly her biggest fan.”

She looked down at Jaune, and he hummed out in agreement. “She is not wrong.”

“Jaune can offer you assistance. As can all of us.”

Jaune stayed silent, although on his face was a small frown.

“And how am I to trust your words?” Penny asked. “Your vocal patterns are indeed similar to those utilized by Weiss Schnee herself, but General Ironwood and Lieutenant Winter both believed you to be under this ‘Jaune D’Arc’s’ control.”

Oh great. This again. And this time, she couldn’t even be all that mad at the world, since it had very much been her own fault. She’d been the one to fool Winter into believing that she was Jaune to keep her distracted.

Now, she had to face the consequences of her own actions.

Delightful.

“Penny, you have to believe me; I’m my own self. I lied to Winter earlier to distract her so that we could get down here safely.” Perhaps it wasn’t wise to lay out what her entire plan had been, but she really wanted Penny to come around. They did not need to be making anymore enemies here. They had enough up top already.

“I would like to believe you.” Penny stated, frowning. A moment later, her eyes lit up. “And perhaps, there exists a way that I can prove whether or not you are telling the truth!

Weiss wasn’t really sure what Penny was talking about, even if it did sound really great in theory. Was she going to grab a polygraph machine, or something? Weiss couldn’t help but feel like that wouldn’t be all that great a strategy, given that Jaune could manipulate things like gravity, and thusly could probably make a needle move or not move when he wanted it to, but Weiss wasn’t going to point that out.

Instead, however, Penny returned some five minutes later not with a machine, but with a human being.

She was a tall woman – but then, most people were tall when compared to Weiss – with pale blonde hair and a tan complexion. She was dressed similarly to the other volunteers on the wall, which told Weiss they were probably related in some way.

“Everyone,” Penny smiled. “This is Robyn Hill. She’s the leader of the Happy Huntresses, who are currently helping us to reinforce Mantle’s defenses!”

Robyn looked them all over with an appraising eye. She struck Weiss as someone tough, probably a fighter of some kind, but whether or not she was able to compete with the likes of Cinder of her sister remained to be seen.

“Nice to meet you all.” She stated, and Weiss responded in kind. “So, I’m here to use my semblance, right?”

“That is correct.” Penny nodded, before looking towards Weiss. “Please step towards Ms. Hill, and hold out your right hand, Weiss.”

She wasn’t entirely certain that that was a good idea, but when she hesitated a moment, Jaune spoke with her.

“If they try anything, you have allies at your back.”

His words proved true, for Jasmine was looking at her with a supportive smile.

Cinder and Cheshire were also present. They weren’t being supportive at all, but they were undeniably… there.

She sighed, before taking a step forward and offering out her hand. Robyn Hill took it in her own, and along their hands, a bit of aura began to glow a faint white color.

“Alright,” Robyn coughed. “What am I asking here, Penny?”

“Ask her if she is Jaune D’Arc.”

Weiss wasn’t really sure what this was about, but instead of allowing Robyn Hill to ask the question, she simply confirmed that herself. “I am not Jaune. I am Weiss Schnee.”

Weiss waited a moment, before the aura circling around the both of their hands glowed green.

“She’s telling the truth.” Robyn confirmed, and Weiss’ eyes widened. That… was a powerful ability. The ability to tell truth from lie.

“I see.” Penny nodded her head. “That is good.”

Weiss let out a breath of relief.

Unfortunately for her, a few people nearby moved towards them.

“What’s going on, Robyn?” One of them asked.

“Ah, May,” Robyn turned towards her. “Currently, confirming something with my semblance.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” The new arrival rolled her eyes. “I meant more ‘what is it you’re confirming’?”

“Uh…” Robyn looked to Penny.

“You are confirming whether or not the evil sorcerer from the dawn of time that Weiss carries around with her inside of that mirror has taken over control of her body, and is now essentially puppeteering her around, or not.”

Robyn’s eyebrows, understandably, rose a bit.

“Uh… okay. Well… he isn’t.”

May seemed to take some issue with that. “Couldn’t some evil sorcerer from the dawn of time fake your semblance out?”

“I could.” Jaune answered, and Weiss threw the mirror on the ground, and then stomped on it a few times for good measure.

It wasn’t like it was going to actually do anything. The mirror was quite literally unbreakable. From what she’d seen, it couldn’t even collect dirt or dust.

Weiss could swing at it with her Arma Gigas and nothing would happen.

…Hm. Tempting.

“I don’t know, May.” Robyn pulled her hand back, laughing under her breath. “That was pretty convincing to me.”

The woman named May snorted. “Same. So, Penny, mind filling us in on what’s actually going on here?”

Penny explained the situation as best she could. Weiss occasionally interjected when the story wasn’t true – which was unfortunately quite often, given that Ironwood was apparently getting his intel straight from Ozpin – which resulted in… an interesting tale for the Happy Huntresses to hear.

“So, Ironwood says that this Jaune guy,” one of the newer arrivals, Joanna, another member of the Happy Huntresses, starts to summarize with a confused expression on her face, “Is going to try and destroy the world.”

“Mhm.”

“But Jaune’s actual goal is just to get out of that mirror?”

“That is correct.”

“And also, apparently you were a dark and evil king at one point, who overthrew the Kingdom that this Salem person used to have?”

“It was her father’s kingdom. He was my brother.”

“Okay, sure.” Joanna cleared her throat. “So… do we believe that, or?”

The other Happy Huntresses, Robyn, May, and Fiona – another new arrival – shrugged.

“It’s a bit hard to believe given that’s Cinder Fall.” Fiona pointed out a bit sheepishly – which Weiss swore was not a racist pun, regardless of the fact that Fiona was a sheep faunus. “Who, y’know, kind of blew up Beacon?”

Cinder whistled faux-casually, doing her best to not meet anyone’s eyes.

Jasmine ran a hand down her face in exasperation.

It was in that moment that Weiss actually remembered that Cheshire existed. She was fairly certain that they hadn’t spoken a word in two hours. Actually, scratch that, Cheshire was currently chasing a leaf down the side of the road a few meters behind them.

Good for them, honestly. They were accomplishing a lot more in life that Weiss was.

“Okay, whatever,” May sighed out. “Back on the evil warlock thing.”

“I prefer sorcerer.”

“Fine, back on the evil sorcerer thing.”

“You’re not going to dispute the evil part?” Weiss turned to Jaune.

Jaune shrugged. “I kind of like the sound of it?”

“You are infuriating.”

“Well, we can just confirm that first and foremost.” Robyn said, kneeling in front of Jaune’s mirror and placing her hand upon the glass. “Can you connect my aura to yours somehow?”

“I do not possess aura, but I can connect thy rudimentary magics to mine own, yes.” Jaune answered, seemingly focusing before placing his own hand against the glass.

Robyn allowed Jaune’s rudeness to slide, which Weiss was very grateful for. He could be… prickly around new people.

Weiss would know. He’d been more than prickly during their time together in the Schnee manor.

“Okay, you mind answering some questions?”

“Art thou giving me a choice?”

“I mean, I can’t actually force you to do anything.”

“Then I’d prefer to not answer–”

“Answer the gods damned question, Jaune!” Weiss hissed out.

“I would be delighted to answer any questions you have.”

Robyn nodded, and Weiss tried to ignore the way the Happy Huntresses were all snickering in the background.

“Let’s start with an easy one; do you want to destroy the world?”

That was an easy one?

“I hold no designs against this world.” Jaune confirmed, and Robyn’s aura glowed green. “Well, perhaps I could rule over it–”

Weiss smacked the mirror.

“But from a benevolent position!” Jaune shot back at her. “Thou never let me finish!”

“Ruling over the world at all sounds evil, Jaune, I don’t care how you plan on doing it!”

“It sounds very fanciful, though.”

Weiss wondered, idly, if she’d been a terrible person in a past life, and having to carry Jaune around was some form of divine punishment for that.

“Alright, well, I guess I’ll just have to accept that. Not like I can do anything else.” Robyn shrugged, before looking between the two of them. “Anything else you guys want to confirm?”

Weiss didn’t have anything, but Jaune, apparently, did.

“All that I have told thee is true, Weiss.”

Her eyes widened minutely, even as Robyn’s aura did glow a pale green.

“It says he’s telling the truth.” Fiona hummed.

“He literally just admitted he could fake Robyn’s semblance out.”

“Well, then thou will simply have to trust me, won’t thee?” Jaune looked up at Weiss, and though she groaned…

Well, annoyingly enough, she already did trust Jaune.

“Cinder,” Jasmine called out to the woman who had been backing away from this conversation very slowly for the last few minutes. “Why don’t you answer some questions?”

“Er…” Cinder coughed. “I have no idea why you’d want me to do that.”

Jasmine raised a single eyebrow. That was apparently enough for Cinder.

“I have no intentions of betraying Weiss.”

“Uh-huh.” Jasmine crossed her arms over her breasts. “Want to shake the nice lady’s hand to prove that?”

Cinder coughed into one hand, before pointing at the wall that protected Mantle from the elements outside of it. “Oh, look, it’s a Grimm attack!”

Weiss was not fooled. No one was, in fact.

And then someone on the wall shouted out, “GRIMM INCOMING!”

Weiss’ eyes widened, even as the entire camp sprang into action, immediately preparing for battle. Robyn and the other Happy Huntresses drew weapons, and Penny herself allowed her blades to emerge from out of her back, and hover behind her.

“Wow. There actually was a Grimm attack.” Cinder muttered, and Jasmine just groaned.

For the time being, Weiss was going to choose to ignore that.

They had a Kingdom to defend, after all.

/

Winter Schnee stood within General Ironwood’s office alongside the other members of the Ace-Ops. To her right was Clover, and behind them were the other four members of the group; Elm, Harriet, Vine, and Marrow.

She had just finished giving their report.

She had not been kind. Not to her teammates, for they had done no wrong.

No. She had not been kind to herself.

“I was an idiot!” She lambasted herself yet again. “I fell for his manipulation, and–”

“Winter. Calm.” Ironwood ordered her, and she forced herself to take a breath as he gave a small nod. “No one is blaming you. I can’t honestly expect you to see your sister under the control of some dark sorcerer and not be affected. I was hoping that you being there would be enough to wrest her from whatever control this demon has over her, but from what you say…”

“She is in there.” Winter confirmed. “I spoke of my love for her, and she reacted. A tear slid down her cheek, despite that infernal man’s words continuing to spill from her lips.”

“I’m inclined to believe you.” The general nodded. “As for what we can do about that, our options are limited. I was willing to make a play on the mirror whilst it was still here in Atlas, but splitting the Ace-Ops up when Salem could be at our throats any day now is risky.”

“I wish to go and look for her.” Winter stated plainly. “Even if I must go alone.”

“I had a feeling you might say that, yes.” Ironwood chuckled. “I will allow it, but in a few days’ time. For now, we will wait until Ozpin and others arrive from Argus.”

Winter sighed out, unsatisfied, but she knew that the general was right. Waiting for reinforcements who knew more about the situation – and some of whom might’ve known more about Weiss – than she did was simply the smart thing to do.

It didn’t mean that Winter had to like it.  

“I’ve heard from the both of you,” Ironwood gestured towards herself and Clover. “Now, I’d like to hear from the others. Harriet, I’m told you were placed under the effect of some kind of immobilizing spell?”

Winter stepped back as Harriet stepped forward, allowing her a turn to speak. “Yes, sir. I was.”

“What can you tell me about it?”

“Not as much as I’d like.” Harriet hissed out between her teeth. “His magic… it made me feel like an alien in my own body. I couldn’t move at all. My semblance was completely useless, too. I felt helpless. Like… like anything could’ve taken me out. A random mugger on the street wouldn’t have had any trouble at that point.”

“And you were like that for how long?”

“Four or five hours.” Harriet stated. “Elm ultimately had to carry me to somewhere more easily defensible, given that I’d been left inside an alleyway while the others chased the suspects. I asked them to do so, to be clear.”

Ironwood nodded. Harriet had made the right call, choosing to allow herself to sit there in an alley on the cold floor for the chance of possibly saving Weiss. She’d done that for her, Winter knew, and she was grateful for it.

“Ms. Ederne,” Ironwood addressed Elm now. “Harriet says you carried her. I am told that her weight was essentially doubled, or tripled, by the spell cast upon her. How heavy would you estimate Ms. Bree was at that point?”

“Eh, hard to say.” Elm was honest, making micro expressions with her face as she thought. “I’d estimate around 250 kilos? Give or take 25 in either direction. Harriet’s light as a feather normally, so I’d say she was made heavier by four or five times?”

“And he was able to cast that spell with how little time to prepare?”

“We estimate roughly thirty seconds, sir.” Clover cut in now. “Maybe less. I’d air on the side of caution and assume he could cast something like that instantly in a pinch.”

Ironwood nodded. Assuming one’s enemy was more competent than they might be allowed one to prepare for even the worst of scenarios. It was a lot like how a roller coaster was fitted to be able to support multiple times the weight it would ever actually need to.

Sometimes it paid to be cautious, even if such caution would never be necessary.

“I can see why Ozpin has been so worried about him escaping from out of that mirror, then.” Ironwood sighed. “If he is currently limited by being trapped within it, and yet he can still do such things, and even protect the four traveling with him from the effects of gravity as they leapt from Atlas, we can assume he would be magnitudes stronger with more direct applications of that magic.”

Winter had thought the same. Gravity manipulation was well and good, but she’d seen what a Maiden could do in the right circumstances thanks to the training she’d been undergoing to inherit Fria’s power in the near future.

A walking conflagration.

And that was supposed to be a mere fraction of what even modest sorcerers of old were capable of, according to Ozpin.

The thought of that had Winter shivering.

Clover hummed out. “Well, sir, if you’d allow my input?”

“Granted.”

“I’d say that for the meantime, we set out a cold trail.” Clover laid out a gameplan. “Hopefully, Weiss and the others will do something to reveal themselves to our eyes and ears in Mantle. We know Penny’s going to be on the lookout, and we have a few people down there posing as civilians to watch for unrest anyways. Might as well have them keep an eye out for our fugitives.”

Winter nodded. He was right.

“For now, we recover, we train, we come up with a gameplan. We work around what we know they’re capable of.” Clover rallied the troops. “Then, we sit, we wait…”

“And when the time is right, we pounce.”

/

In a seemingly barren apartment among the backstreets of Mantle, in a place no one would ever think to look, Arthur Watts took a large bite out of an apple.

It was a particularly delicious apple, and one he would really rather be devoting more time to. It was not local to any particular part of the world. In fact, from what Salem had told him, it had been an extinct species for the last few centuries.

But Salem’s magic could be rather utilitarian in terms of use, on occasion. Ranging from growing food and producing clean, drinkable water at the very end of the world, to managing to pluck specially coded scroll calls out of thin air and talk to them as if she had a scroll herself.

Case in point…

He took up his scroll, pressed a button on the front, and waited for Salem to apprehend the signal.

“Watts.” Her voice came out through the receiver via some strange magic, the specifics of which he had never been allowed to fully investigate. To Salem, how her powers interacted with Watts’ technological abilities was not important, only that they did.

Such was fairly aggravating for him, given that Watts had spent the better part of his entire life focused on helping to pioneer such technological breakthroughs, what with working on some of the earliest prototypes for the modern scrolls alongside Pietro.

And my, what his old rival had been up to. This… Penny project looked quite interesting.

Ah, well. He’d have time to focus on such things later.

“Mistress.” He answered, and Salem hummed to let him know she could hear him. “I’m just calling because I thought you’d like to know that I’ve found them.”

On the monitor in front of him, upon Arthur’s desk, security footage from the walls of Mantle was playing.

It showed a young blonde girl, who seemed a bit in over her head. It showed a curious masked figure, who Watts knew little about. It showed a traitorous cockroach who Watts had been right about all along.

It showed a girl with white hair fighting against Grimm in the snow just beyond the cities’ reach.

And upon her back was a mirror.

“Both the mirror, and its bearer.”

Chapter Text

All in all, the Grimm attack wasn’t difficult to deal with.

That mostly came down to the fact that they had about ten incredibly skilled fighters, including Weiss herself, Cinder, Cheshire, Robyn, her Happy Huntresses, and Penny.

Jasmine was also present, although she mostly preferred to keep to the rear, and utilize her semblance and magic to support the others. Weiss didn’t expressly blame her, although she couldn’t help but feel like she wasn’t going to get any better at using Crocea Mors just sitting there in the background.

Once they’d cleaned up the Grimm, Weiss and the others walked back inside the wall, and a few of the Happy Huntresses began to diagnose the damage the Grimm had caused before they had been able to stop them, seeing if it couldn’t be repaired quickly and efficiently.

In the end, they determined that it would need a longer repair, taking half a day, and that they’d need people outside the wall, willing to wait in the cold snow to keep Grimm off the engineers. Weiss hated the fact that she volunteered for that almost as much as she hated the fact that she was now stuck standing in a half-meter of snow.

She understood that she was doing a good thing, and that the good thing she was doing needed done. That did not make her feel better in the moment, however.

“Chin up.” Jaune spoke to her. “I shall keep thee stocked up on joy.”

Ah, right. Jaune’s method for making these things a little less painful. He was pumping joy via a magical spell directly into her brain. Weiss wondered, idly, if that was really screwing with her serotonin levels, and if she was going to have a major crash at some point because of it, but she hoped the fact that this was all being done by magic meant that that wouldn’t be an issue.

…With her luck, though?

“Uhm…” Jasmine raised a hand beside them, because she, too, had chosen to come and guard the outside of the wall along with them. “So… Mr. D’Arc?”

“Do not call me that.” Jaune shivered audibly. “Jaune is more than sufficient. Thou art my brother’s descendant, after all.”

“Er… alright. Jaune then.” Jasmine clearly did not like calling him that. “Now that we’ve got some time… would you teach me magic?”

Ah, that explained why Jasmine had sprung to come with them once Jaune and Weiss – really just Weiss – had volunteered. It was, in all fairness, the entire reason she had decided to journey along with them in the first place, so Weiss didn’t think that Jaune would be upset that she wanted him to fulfill his end of the bargain.

“I suppose now is as good a time as any.” Jaune hummed out. “Come over here, so that I might see thee.”

Jasmine did just that, and Weiss now had to play the very awkward game of trying to line up the mirror on her back with Jasmine.

…Actually, scratch that. She took the mirror off her back, and turned, so that they were both facing Jasmine.

“Now, Jasmine,” Jaune cleared his throat. “Tell me all that thou know of magic. I wish to know of the foundation that thou standest upon.”

“Alright, well… my father was the one who taught me magic. He taught all of his daughters who had the potential.”

“Thou hath siblings?”

“Seven of them. Two others could use it. My older sister Saphron, and my second oldest sister, Marigold.”

“Hm.” Jaune sounded surprised, but he wasn’t giving voice to that emotion. Weiss had long since known this fact. Well, not the magic part. The seven sisters part. “I see. And what did he teach thee?”

“Well, we learned to center our basin,”

“Basic but important. Good.”

“Then we learned to move our magic from parts of our bodies to others.”

“Mm.”

“We learned to expel magic from our hands first, then other places as exercises in control.”

“I see.”

“And then we learned about our specialty’s. The thing I had a talent for was healing magic.”

“Quite a rare power.” Jaune spoke. “In my time, it was thought to be the domain of the gods themselves to be able to heal another with magic.”

“My father said the same.” Jasmine nodded her head. “Well, not exactly that, but that it was a very rare ability. But because it was so rare, he didn’t quite know how to teach it to me. He did his best, but it took me probably five times as long to master even the most basic aspects of my power than it did for my siblings to finish getting their entire styles figured out. We were simply walking upon an untreaded path.”

“Mm. I can understand why that might have been a problem.” Jaune frowned. “Unfortunately, things will be much the same for myself in terms of thy healing abilities. Although, seemingly, thou hath more than mastered them at this point, given that thou were able to bring Pyrrha back from the dead.”

“That…” Jasmine sighed. “I put everything I had into mastering my healing magic because I was told it was so rare. Because of that, yes, I can heal almost any injury if given enough time… even reconstitute someone who’s been disintegrated, but… I can’t do anything to protect them before that. And I got lucky. Cinder and her cronies fled the tower by the time I arrived. I had to stay there, stationary, for a good six or seven hours to fully reconstitute Pyrrha. If anyone had interrupted… she would have been gone for good.”

“Ah, I see.” Jaune nodded his head. “So, you are not coming to me to learn how to heal. You are coming to me to learn how to fight back with the magics that lurk within thee?”

“I am. I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines, being unable to offer anything but my meagre sword skills.”

“Before you two start,” Weiss butted in, “Aren’t we technically putting all of Mantle at risk right now by doing this when we’re supposed to be guarding the engineers on the wall?”

“Nonsense.” Jaune scoffed. “I have activated a sensory magic that will alert me to any Grimm coming within a quarter kilometer of us. And I don’t know what you mean by ‘you two’, as if this does not involve you. You are the Fall Maiden now, are you not?”

Oh. Right. She was.

She supposed she would be quiet, then.

“Right.” Jaune hummed. “In that case, we will start with the most basic of all combat magics; the ward.”

“A… shield?”

“In essence, yes. But a ward can become something far more powerful than a mere shield. It is an extension of oneself; a coat on thy skin that protects from all harm. A way of forcing your magic to the forefront, becoming a bastion of defense against–”

“Uhm…” Jasmine interrupted. “Isn’t that just aura?”

Jaune was quiet a long time.

“…We will start with the second most basic of all combat magics; the firebolt!”

Weiss just sighed.

/

The training was, in a word, boring.

That wasn’t really a slight against Jaune, or his teaching style. It was just very clear that he was going to go over the most basic of basics, first and foremost.

Jasmine’s training was more advanced than her own. That was largely due to the fact that Weiss knew next to nothing about the Maiden’s fire, given she’d gained it all of a week ago. Maybe less, honestly. Time was just kind of difficult to keep track of these days.

He set up Jasmine first, having her working on gathering her magic in her palms, and superheating it, so that it could be used to conjure forth a firebolt, a very basic elemental spell. With Weiss, he had an easier time.

“The Maiden’s power is, from what I can tell, essentially a basin of magic that has already been elementally charged. You will, thusly, not need to learn to superheat it. It is already of a fire element. However, if you wish to diversify the means with which you use your power, you will need to learn to affect its element.”

So it was that Weiss spent the next two or three hours trying to cool down the magic in her breast. That… was far more easily said than done, given that she quite liked it being hot. They were, after all, in the middle of a snowy tundra.

And it was frigid.

She struggled to freeze the fire in her breast, and because of that, Jaune grew somewhat impatient.

“Imagine a depressive memory from thy past.” He told her. “It needn’t be world ending, but something that will lower thy mood.”

“Gee, Jaune, sounds great.” She bit out, but she did as he said.

Her past was so full of bitter memories that it was difficult to really conjure up any one in particular. In the end, she settled on the first time that Winter had ever taken her anger about mother and father out on her.

Weiss had gone to Winter’s room to try and play with her, as they used to all the time. She had been… eight years old, perhaps? Winter had been visibly aggravated, but she’d not been able to realize that at the time. She’d been a child, unconcerned with anyone but herself.

Winter had snapped at her. Not even harshly, something light and ineffectual.

But as a child, it had been enough to send her heart crashing down, her mind reeling. She’d screamed and cried for so long that night; utterly inconsolable. The maids had had such a difficult time calming her down.

Hah. She’d been dramatic.

Still, the memory was enough for her to feel the flames in her chest flicker a little less prominently; to cause them to begin to dim. She forced herself to relive more of her childhood; her parents fighting, her older sister growing more distant, feeling more and more alone, and the fire went out entirely.

“Ah, I see you’ve managed to get your basin to neutral.” Jaune spoke, and Weiss bristled.

“Neutral!?”

“Indeed. You will need to do far more to utilize cold itself as an element.”

“That…” Weiss growled below her breath, but ultimately let it go. “Fine. Let’s just… keep training.”

In the end, she didn’t last too much longer. As much as the Maiden’s power was hers now, she was not at all used to using it. Because of that, she flailed about with it carelessly, and exhausted the basin of magic within her far too quickly.

Jaune called her training there for the day, and told her that they could continue later.

Jasmine’s basin, on the other hand, was apparently several times larger than her own, which meant that while Weiss had to go off and find something to do, Jaune continued to train with her, teaching her more and more.

So it was that Weiss ambled about, kicking her feet. Eventually, she settled on propping up Jaune’s mirror in the snow so that she could at least move a distance away and occupy herself training with her summons.

She was working on adjusting their sizes. She would summon her Arma Gigas so that it was the size of her palm, and then again so that it was as tall as a house. She alternated over and over again, straining her aura, but managing to make it a bit bigger, or smaller, every time. By the time that Jasmine came over, panting, but seemingly reinvigorated, with Jaune held in her hands, she was more than ready to head back.

So, they did. They traded off with some of the others who were still hanging about the wall – mainly the Happy Huntresses, who took up their roles as guards – before making their way into the nearest hotel.

Cinder again paid for them all, which was nice, given that Weiss didn’t have the money she once had, and Jasmine clearly didn’t either. Cheshire… well, Weiss was beginning to believe that Cheshire was someone for whom money wasn’t a concept, since they didn’t seem to know what a lien even was.

Weiss wasn’t going to call them on it. She just catalogued the information away somewhere in the back of her brain, and carried on.

She and Jaune were, again, sharing a room. It didn’t really count, given that Jaune was a mirror, and thus she could hang him on the wall and have the room to herself. But, in terms of sharing the space emotionally, she very much did have a roommate.

“How did Jasmine’s training go?”

“Passably.” Jaune mustered up as answer after a few moments spent contemplating. “She is eager to learn, albeit she lacks many of the foundational ideas that mages of my time were first trained in. I suppose it only makes sense that certain things would have been lost over the course of more than a hundred thousand years.”

Yes, it very much did.

“Do you think she can learn?”

“That is up to her.” He remarked simply. “If you asked me to predict whether or not she would get it eventually purely based on her performance today, I would say yes, but then, that is mostly because she does not seem the type to give up. Her natural ability with combative magics is as abysmal as mine own once were. I was half-tempted to try and teach her the dark magics I found some modicum of success with.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because that is not a path that one should tread, if the option is given to them not to.” Jaune spoke rather ominously.

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Dark magics…” Jaune paused a moment. “Tis hard to describe them accurately without having used them oneself. I would say that they feel as if they eat away at thy very being. As if one’s very soul is disintegrating inside of thee whenever they use them. Every time I relied on that power to substitute for my own lack of strength, I felt less like myself, and more like someone… other.”

Weiss met Jaune’s eyes, then, and saw the uncertainty that laid within them.

“I believed, at the time, that the effects were not permanent. That over days, weeks, months, if I did not overuse the powers of darkness, then I could stave off any such consequences. But… eventually I was left with little recourse but to use them, and in extremes.” Jaune spoke, sighing. “During my battle with Ozma, and Salem, I… overindulged. To the point that I became something beyond human. And now… well, I can only hope that who I am now is who I have always been. That I am a good man.”

His worry was palpable, enough so that Weiss could feel his uncertainty hanging in the air. She hadn’t realized that such weighed so heavily upon him, but… perhaps he was worried about his own behavior, when he’d first exited the mirror. About how different he’d been then to how he acted now.

…

“…I can’t speak to who you might once have been,” Weiss turned away from Jaune, unable to look him in the eye as she said this, “But… you are.”

“Hm?”

“You’re a good person.” She communicated without doubt. “You’re… aggravating, and a pain in my ass. But you’re a good person. A friend, even. Do not doubt yourself on that.”

Jaune was actually speechless for a good few seconds after that. Evidently, Weiss’ words were not those that he had expected. She turned back to see him looking down and away himself, with a small blush upon his cheeks.

“I… thank thee.”

“It’s nothing.” She stammered out, embarrassed herself.

“No… it very much is not.”

Before they could say anything more on the subject, however, there was a mild commotion outside of Weiss’ window. It was late, so it surprised her, and for a moment, Weiss assumed the worst; that the Grimm had somehow managed to breach the wall.

That was not what had happened.

No, it was in fact a collection of civilians, all of them throwing bottles or bricks at a drone that was flying on the street just beyond their reach.

From it came a droning voice, delivering a message.

“Citizens of Mantle,” the voice of General Ironwood came on over the speaker. “I come to you now bearing important news. There are imposters lurking among us.”

She thought she heard Cheshire belt out laughing, although Weiss didn’t really know why.

“Right now–” A glass bottle hit the side of the drone, and while it clearly didn’t appreciate that, it also wasn’t enough to stop it, either. “There are enemies of Atlas lurking within Mantle’s walls. One of them is Cinder Fall; the wanted terrorist who nearly brought about the destruction of Beacon Academy. She has used a powerful semblance to ensnare both Weiss Schnee, and Jasmine Arc, two Huntresses in training, to her side.”

Weiss just groaned, realizing that this was going to be a headache, regardless of whether or not anything actually came of this particular broadcast.

“We will be looking to apprehend this criminal, and save these two Huntresses in training. We believe that their goal will ultimately be to return to Atlas, and because of this, we will be requiring all travel into and out of Atlas to be done with an Atlas ID card, which can–”

The shouts from the people below almost drowned out the sound of the drone, and a particularly well-placed brick did finally end its tirade. The people on the ground cheered as the robot crashed to the ground, even as one particularly gutsy man ran over and kicked the downed bot.

He promptly broke his foot, from the looks of things.

“All of this is beginning to sound rather familiar.” Jaune said suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Atlas is using any excuse it can to solidify its borders. Even though it is supposed to protect and serve Mantle as well, it seems perfectly content to leave it out to dry. We can see that by the Grimm attacks earlier. There were no soldiers on the walls, only volunteers.”

Weiss felt an ugly feeling well up within her stomach. “That… there could have been soldiers around. Perhaps they just weren’t stationed there.”

“A possibility, but do you truly believe they would leave an obvious breach in their defenses unguarded?”

…

“Now, they are separating themselves even further from Mantle. They are making it harder for the people of Mantle to integrate with Atlas. I am not going to say that the reasons behind such are as simple as they were in my time; that the nobles want to milk the peasant classes for all that they are worth, and give nothing back… but it has oft been said that while history does not repeat, it often rhymes.”

That… was a rather unflattering picture that was being painted of Atlas. The worst part was that Weiss couldn’t fully argue against what he was saying, either. From the looks of things, Atlas had all but abandoned Mantle, and people like Robyn and the Happy Huntresses had to pick up the slack.

Penny was the only person that Weiss had met from Atlas who was actively helping to remedy the situation down here.

…She couldn’t have been, could she? There had to be more people, there had to be others.

She would ask Penny. That was what she would do.

She told Jaune the same, and she watched as the expression on his face grew doubtful. She almost wanted to shout at him because of that. He could make his assumptions all he wanted, but Weiss knew General Ironwood. She knew that he was not the kind of person to do such a thing without reason.

So, they made their way down and out of the hotel, towards where Penny was still helping out the remaining Happy Huntresses. Robyn and Joanna – she was pretty sure that was the woman’s name – had gone up to rest a few hours ago, and the others would follow suit once they returned. Penny, being an android, didn’t actually need any rest.

Weiss wished she were the same way. As things were, she was entirely exhausted. It was only eight or nine hours ago that they’d fought against Winter and those other Specialists. She’d pretty much not stopped moving since then.

“Ah, Weiss!” Penny called out to her, apparently having finally gotten the hint to drop the ‘friend’ part before her name. “It is good to see you.”

She’d last seen Penny about two hours ago, but she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

“Mm. It is.” She decided to cut right to the chase. “Penny, where are the Atlas soldiers that should be stationed down here in Mantle?”

The expression on Penny’s face darkened, then. Her lips curled down into a frown, and though she opened her mouth to say something, nothing came out initially.

“That…”

Weiss immediately knew the truth, although she very much wanted to pretend like she didn’t.

“General Ironwood has pulled back ninety-five percent of our soldiers to Atlas, preparing for a potential attack by Salem.” Penny’s voice became almost robotic, and though that would’ve seemed ironic at another time, she meant it in a less literal sense now. She sounded as if she was reading off of a report, instead of talking to Weiss.

She didn’t understand the reasoning behind his decisions either.

“Because of this, Mantle has largely been left understaffed, and holes in the outer wall have become more and more common as Grimm are able to get closer and closer to the city itself. I volunteered to be sent down here in order to assist.”

“She’s been much appreciated, too,” May, one of the Happy Huntresses, spoke out. “Without Penny, I don’t doubt we’d be up shit creek without a paddle.”

“I have not heard that metaphor before.” Jaune noted idly from Weiss’ back. “I do not like it.”

“Recently, General Ironwood even ordered me to return.” Penny spoke, and Weiss bit down on her bottom lip. “I fought back against his judgment, saying that the people of Mantle needed my help. He eventually acquiesced, but he made it clear that I would need to return within the coming weeks.”

“That… he said that?”

“He does not want to split forces when Atlas could come under attack at any moment.”

“And what of Atlas’ other half?” Jaune spoke up, almost sneering. “Is he simply leaving them to the proverbial wolves?”

“I… the general is under a lot of pressure right now.” Penny spoke, and even to Weiss, who would’ve loved to believe that, it sounded like an excuse. “All of Atlas rests on his shoulders.”

“And yet, he has already shucked off the weight of Mantle, has he not? He has already abandoned half or more of his people.” Jaune spat out. “Forgive me if I am not feeling particularly understanding of a leader who would do such a thing.”

“I just… what reason could there be for that?” Weiss stressed, trying to figure it out.

“He is afraid.” Jaune spoke, and the words rang true. “He may not wish to admit it, but it is the truth. And fear makes fools of even the strongest. Those who are charged with command cannot afford to be afraid. That is something that I myself learned once upon a time. A leader must be a bastion, a stalwart beacon that one’s people can look to for guidance. They cannot make decisions ruled by fear.”

No one spoke in response to that. It wasn’t like Weiss really could. What Jaune was saying made sense. It was the exactly same thing that had happened at Haven. Leonardo Lionheart had been afraid for his life, and because of that, he’d sold out his students, his faculty, and his Kingdom to Salem.

It had resulted in the deaths of hundreds, perhaps thousands over the years.

All because he’d been afraid.

Ozpin was, in his own way, also experiencing the same. He was allowing his judgement to be clouded by his emotions. His fear of what Jaune might be capable of was causing him to shun both Weiss and Jaune, who could’ve been valuable allies in the fight against Salem. Perhaps it could be said he was simply cautious, but Weiss was not so sure.

In the end… fear, it seemed, was the thing that ultimately ruled over all.

It was quite the bleak thought to have.

“That’s why we’re doing the things we’re doing,” A voice suddenly called out, and Weiss turned to see Robyn stepping up, a hand on her hip. “We’re not going to abandon Mantle just because we’re afraid. And we are afraid. Doesn’t take a genius to know that Ironwood’s not being this paranoid for nothing. Something’s coming. Might not even be something we can handle.”

Robyn shook her head, even as she stood the tiniest bit taller.

“But that doesn’t mean we can just abandon the people here, either. Someone has to do something.”

Jaune hummed out in agreement. “And that is leadership. The courage to, even though we are afraid, do that which must be done.”

Robyn chuckled. “Ah, well… we do our best.”

It was at that moment, as Weiss was left with Jaune’s words to think on, that the giant bulletins that were normally used for broadcasting General Ironwood’s messages to the people of Mantle lit up, and on the screen…

Weiss’ eyes widened.

“Good evening, everyone.” Her father, Jacques Schnee, orated. “I hope you all are having a splendid evening. As many of you know, I will be running for a position on the Atlas Council in the coming months. My campaign is strong, and I plan on tackling many of the issues that the people of Atlas, and Mantle as well, face in their day to day lives.”

An obvious lie, but then, her father had always been quite skilled with those.

“I come before you today, however, not as a potential candidate for the council of Atlas, but as a father.”

Huh. An even more obvious lie.

“As of a few days ago, I was informed that my daughter, Weiss Schnee, had become involved with something far beyond the scope of what I initially assumed her to be. She has been away from home for quite a while without my knowing her location, and during that time, I did not inform the authorities, for I was confident she could handle herself.”

More like he didn’t care enough to make a scene.

“But I have been informed by General Ironwood that the situation is far worse than I initially suspected. Weiss has been put under the control of the criminal Cinder Fall by means of a powerful semblance. Because of this, she is not herself, and even fought back against the Specialists of Atlas, including her own sister, when they tried to save her.”

“So, as of this moment, I am going to be taking proactive measures to ensure the safety of my daughter. To any and all who might hear this; I offer a reward for my daughter’s safe return to the Schnee manse. Five hundred million lien.”

Weiss’ eyes widened.

Robyn and the Happy Huntresses gaped.

Penny smiled. “It’s good to hear that he cares so much about you!”

Weiss was not going to rise to that. She refused.

“Once she is returned, I will personally hand the one, or ones, who return her their reward money. I beseech you to listen to my plea. Thank you, and goodnight.”

The bulletin boards flicked off, and Weiss was left staring at the now black screens with her mouth agape.

She… couldn’t believe that she’d just heard.

Yet whether or not she believed it, she was now the public’s number one concern. She looked over to her left, where a couple of Mantle citizens who had been up until then minding their own business suddenly walked over, looking nervous. Evidently, they had heard what had just been said…

But that money was more than life changing.

And some people were going to be reeeeeaally stupid to try and get it.

“Hey, why don’t you come with us, ma’am?”

“Yeah, we’ll bring you back to your father safe and sound!”

Excellent. Just peachy.

Somehow, this was all Jaune’s fault.

Chapter Text

Ruby Rose was in a bit of a pickle.

This pickle, of course, was standing next to one Oscar Pine, who was currently being piloted by the ancient magic warrior in his brain, as he nodded along with everything that General Ironwood was saying, despite the fact that a lot of it was sounding a bit…

Uhm…

Fascist-y? was that a word?

Ruby was pretty sure that it wasn’t a word. It got her point across pretty well, though.

“For the time being, I’ve instituted a curfew in Mantle. That way, we should be able to control the movements of the citizens below. That will allow us to flush out those not following the curfew, which should, hopefully, be the members of the Dread King’s entourage.”

“And you know for a fact that they’re still in Mantle?”

“For one, there’s nowhere else they could go.” Ironwood stated simply. “The tundra this time of year is cold enough to chill out even the most prepared of adventurers in mere days. The villages in and around Mantle are still a hundred kilometers out, and that distance would take weeks to cover with this weather.”

“What about magic?”

“We cannot expressly say that they have not used magic to escape,” Ironwood admitted. “But then, if they have, then there’s not much we can do in the first place.”

Ozpin sighed. “I suppose you’re not incorrect. I simply wish we could do more; flood Mantle with Atlesian forces and flush them out.”

“Be that as it may, I don’t currently have the manpower to divert a significant portion of my armies to Mantle. Not when Atlas could come under attack at any moment.”

“You almost certainly have some sort of advanced warning set up, my friend, do you not?” Ozpin – Ozma? Oscar? Ugh – countered. “Could you not send soldiers down into Mantle, and then pull them out if your advanced warning signals detected an enemy?”

“That…” Ironwood paused a moment. “Perhaps you are right. I have been playing things safe, lately. But in this case, it may be right to push the envelope a tad.”

Ozpin nodded. “Then…”

“I’ll have two members of the Ace-Ops – Winter and Marrow – down in Mantle. They will assist Ms. Polendina in locating the Dread King’s entourage.”

Ozpin seemed rather perturbed by something that had been said. “Has Penny located nothing thus far?”

“According to her, they have been abnormally elusive.”

“Hm. Troubling.” Ozpin rubbed at his chin. “I assumed they would be quite easily tracked.”

“As did I. Penny, of all people, should’ve had little issue with such an effort. That she has not been able to locate them suggests some manner of magic is at work.”

Ozpin flinched. “And every time he uses magic, the Dread King grows closer to casting off his bonds, and walking amongst us once again. That cannot be allowed to happen. As of yet, I do not believe he has become aware of the limitations of his prison, but if he were to…”

“You believe him to be as deadly a foe as Salem?”

“Not in the same way. Not with Salem’s raw power. But in cunning, yes, I believe he poses as equal a threat to the people of Remnant as she does.”

“Very well.” Ironwood nodded his head, “I will contact Winter and Marrow with haste, then. Would you wish to lead that team, old friend?”

“If you’d have me, then I would, indeed.” Ozpin nodded his head. “I’ve sat back and allowed them to roam free for too long. It’s time I took action.”

“Would that I could go with you,” Ironwood sighed. “Unfortunately, with things as they are, I’m needed here.”

“I more than understand.”

“Very well, then.” Ironwood cleared his throat before looking towards them. “The rest of you, take the remainder of the day off. I will speak more with Ozpin alone.”

Ruby and the others – Blake and Yang, alongside Adam and a few other members of the White Fang – made their way out of the room, and back into the halls of Atlas HQ. Somehow, no one had yet commented on the fact that Adam Taurus was walking around unmasked and entirely casually in the home of what had once been his most hated enemy.

But… eh. Ruby wasn’t going to go starting anything.

“So…” Ruby proceeded to start something. “Did that give any of you guys the heebie-jeebies, or was that just me?”

“I am likely rather biased.” Adam said with a small shrug. “So, I will refrain from commenting.”

“Nah,” Yang nudged Adam’s arm. “Tell us.”

“…Well, if you’re certain. I believe that Ozpin and Ironwood both are terrified. Not necessarily of the same things, mind, but they are both clearly affected by something. They are not entirely in their right minds.”

“I agree.” Blake chimed in. “Ironwood’s less obvious than Ozpin, but even so, the fact that he’s holed up the entire Atlesian army in Atlas for the last two months, without a single sign of Salem’s appearance, says enough on its own. The people of Mantle are being left out to dry, and he’s doing nothing.”

Ruby hummed out under her breath, even as they rounded a corner towards their own rooms. Thinking about Mantle had her feeling rather down, because while they were up here twiddling their thumbs, apparently the walls were being constantly attacked, and volunteer Huntsman and Huntresses were being called on to defend them.

Ruby would’ve liked to be among them. Except Ironwood was convinced that Salem would attack any day now, and had them sequestered away here in case they were needed.

And while he might be right, Ruby wasn’t alright with allowing people to die out of fear.

They pushed their way into their shared room with Team JNPR – or, well, NPR – and found what was fast becoming the usual scene of late.

Ren and Nora trying to urge Pyrrha out of bed, where she had been laying all morning, entirely out of it.

Ruby couldn’t really blame her. After all, she loved Weiss, but in a sisterly way. Knowing she was being controlled by that Jaune guy hurt, but she knew that she hadn’t chosen it.

Jasmine, on the other hand…

Well, they’d gotten her letter. The letter where she’d told them, in no uncertain terms, that she was going to go and learn magic from the Dread King.

Pyrrha had been despondent.

And yeah. Ruby got why. It very much sucked. She had, seemingly, been placed under his spell as well.

…Except…

“Hey, Pyrrha.” Yang waved, and she looked up from her bed to nod weakly towards Yang. “Still feeling crappy?”

“I… have been better.”

“Yeah, I getcha.”

“I just wish she would’ve confided in me.” Pyrrha muttered out.

…Ruby supposed there was no time like the present to bring up what was on her mind.

“I was just thinking something.” Ruby spoke, looking up at the others as they turned to her. “Is it really a spell that’s causing them all to travel with him?”

“Huh?”

“I just… I’m getting this weird feeling all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, it certainly seems sudden; you were convinced as of three hours ago that Weiss was under the control of the Demon King, or whatever he’s called.” Yang raised an eyebrow. “What happened to change that?”

“Yeah, but then I heard that Weiss said, like actually admitted, that she was under his control.”

The others stared at her blankly.

“And that… convinced you that she wasn’t?”

Ruby nodded her head.

“Okay.” Yang shrugged. “Fuck it, sure. Let’s consider this line of conversation, then. Do we have more evidence to suggest that maybe Weiss has been telling the truth this whole time, and that she’s not under anyone’s control?”

“Actually,” Ren was the one to speak up. “I had been keeping quiet on this because I was not certain it would help, but… to me, it seemed odd that Jasmine, who knows quite a bit about magic, would go to the Dread King purposefully is she thought she would just be controlled. In her note, she stated that she wished to learn magic from him. Would she learn much of anything as a thrall?”

“Couldn’t the note have been fabricated by him?” Nora argued.

“It could’ve.” Ren admitted. “I’ve nothing to contest that.”

“No, I agree.” Pyrrha suddenly seemed a lot livelier. “It does seem odd. Jasmine told me while we were traveling to Argus that she was resistant to most forms of magic. She sparred against her siblings enough that her aura became able to reflect some of it. Unless she was beaten, first, she wouldn’t have fallen under his control.”

“And the plot thickens.” Blake murmured out. “So, what about Cinder, and that other person?”

“That’s honestly a good question,” Yang admitted. “But one with an obvious explanation; couldn’t he have just used that ability he did on Adam to change her and make her good?”

Adam hummed. “I see no reason why not. We know not the limitations of the spell. Perhaps he couldn’t have, but if he could…”

“Then yes, that would explain her traveling with them.” Blake said. “And we know absolutely nothing about this fourth person. They wear a black cloak and a mask. Hard to pick up on anything. Apparently, one of the Ace-Ops heard them called ‘Cheshire’ by one of the others.”

“Not particularly helpful.”

“No, it isn’t. Unfortunately, I can’t see us gaining anything else out of this topic of conversation unless we’re willing to come to a decision as a group. To do that…” Blake looked over at Ren, Nora, and Pyrrha. “We should fill you all in on what happened.”

They ran down the general points that Ironwood and Ozpin had been making during their meeting, and Nora then proceeded to join them in the camp of ‘this all feels a bit wrong’.

“I don’t like it.” She bit out, causing Ren to lean over and place a hand on her shoulder supportively. “I just…”

“And they didn’t so much as consider whether or not Jacques Schnee’s broadcast is going to be putting civilians all over Mantle in danger.” Blake crossed her arms over her chest. “If people see Weiss, they’re going to try and apprehend her, instead of running like they should. That’s going to get people hurt, one-hundred percent.”

“And they really didn’t say anything about it?” Ren leaned forward.

“Not a word.”

“How could they be so blind?”

Silence fell over their group of seven, then. Ruby, Yang, Blake, Adam, Ren, Pyrrha, and Nora. Now, both of their teams were down a man.

“To me, this feels like an obvious case.” Adam eventually spoke out. “Our supposed leaders are failing us. Both of them are missing the forest for the trees. In trying to protect people from Salem in the future, they are doing nothing to protect people who need help now.”

There was a general chorus of agreement at that. Ruby didn’t exactly want to admit that both Ozpin – who they’d been following along and trusting for the last while – and Ironwood – who’d done so much for them back during the Battle of Beacon – were untrustworthy, but…

“At the very least,” Blake spoke up. “If they’re going to make no moves to protect Mantle, then a select few of us should. I say we ask for forgiveness rather than permission, and send half of our number down to Mantle. Help out around the gates, and making sure everyone down there is safe.”

“I agree with your assessment.” Adam nodded. “There are people here, both human and faunus, being left to the proverbial wolves.”

It was always a bit odd to hear Adam Taurus, of all people, worrying about random humans, but then, Ruby had started to grow a bit used to that.

He was actually a really nice guy now that the whole… terrible racism thing had been taken from him.

“Okay, so, how do we get down to Mantle?” Ruby asked.

“That’s actually fairly easy.” Blake spoke. “It’s getting back up afterwards that’s the kicker.”

“Well…” Ruby pursed her lips. “We could always worry about that when the time comes?”

Everyone was silent a moment after that.

“…Yeah sure.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“A great plan, Ruby!”

And somewhere, without even really knowing why, Weiss Schnee ran a hand down her face in exasperation.

/

Ruby wasn’t entirely sure what she’d expected to find as she and the small cohort of people with her – namely Yang, Blake, Adam, and a few of the White Fang that had once been local – stepped out onto the streets of Mantle.

It uh… it really hadn’t been this.

“So…” Ruby muttered a bit helplessly. “What’s going on?”

There were people up in arms all around them. Several people were holding makeshift weapons; things like baseball bats, golf clubs, or lead pipes. Others, the luckier or wealthier ones, had blades or light firearms.

And they were just kind of… roaming about.

“Spread out!” One of the leaders of a small band of people, numbering six or seven strong, called out. “We find Weiss Schnee, and that bounty is ours!”

“Someone said they saw her on 3^rd street!” A member of another group shouted out.

“And we’re just going to believe your ass? Yeah, right. I say we check 7^th, call that asshole’s bluff.”

“Hey, you better not be thinking about muscling in on our turf!” Another member of that second group threatened, stepping up and smacking his pipe into his open palm over and over again.

“Your turf!? This is a fuckin’ street, dipshit! It’s no one’s turf!”

“Oh, them’s are fightin’ words!”

Ruby and the others just sort of watched, enthralled, as the different men and women in those two groups ran at each other, fists and weapons flying. The fight was not at all a well-organized thing, and it was akin more to a knockdown brawl than anything else.

Adam just sighed. “I’ll go stop them from killing each other.”

“Yeah.” Blake muttered. “You uh… you do that.”

Adam nodded his head, before looking back to a few of his people and nodding towards them. They moved in step with him as their group, half the size of either of the groups they were going to apprehend, made their way over to the tussle.

“Okay, I’m gonna’ ask again,” Ruby followed up as Adam and the White Fang stopped the fight before the makeshift weapons being employed could strike more vulnerable areas. “What exactly is going on right now?”

“Y’know what?” Yang muttered.

“I don’t think I want to know.”

Chapter Text

All in all, Weiss thought that their escape from the nearly endless hordes of people after her father’s reward money had gone fairly well.

No one had been killed – despite Cinder’s best efforts – and they hadn’t had to use any magic in front of civilians to do it.

The place they’d retreated to was a rundown hotel that, apparently, served as something of a base of operations for the Happy Huntresses. It wasn’t a super-secret place, given that it was just an old building off of a back street, but it would likely suit their needs fairly well, and keep at least a majority of the bounty hunters from finding them.

Well, Weiss could hope so, anyways.

As for their crew, they’d split off a bit. Cinder was speaking more with the Happy Huntresses downstairs, ostensibly to try and assist them, but actually to try and figure out their strengths and weaknesses to be able to deal with them if it came down to that. Such did not shock Weiss. Cinder was just kind of like that.

Cheshire, on the other hand, had gone missing sometime during their retreat from the main roads. Wherever they were, Weiss was sure they were getting up to nothing of import. Probably chasing leaves, or watching the snow fall.

She was currently sat in her room – a dingy thing with space for a bed and table alone – with Jaune’s mirror leaned against the wall opposite her. He seemed to be lost in thought.

“What are you thinking of?” She questioned him out of sheer boredom.

“The circumstances that we find ourselves in.” Jaune answered, meeting her gaze. “In all honesty, I have seen such witch hunts before. Obvious not for actual witches, given that all people in my time were capable of using magic, but… well, I confess that this is familiar scenery.”

Weiss nodded. “And to think that this is all my father’s doing.”

“Yes, tis another thing that has me puzzled. Why would thy father put thee in such a position of risk?”

“Hm?”

“Well, obviously, the people around here have been instructed to take thee in without harming thee, but thou art a Huntress, and they would likely know of such. Not to mention thou art traveling alongside several capable fighters as well. No one has any hope of capturing thee without a struggle. He’s essentially started a manhunt in Mantle; one which could turn violent at the drop of a hat.”

Weiss grimaced. “According to Robin, there have already been scuffles breaking out between different groups trying to hunt me down. Some people have been injured, and there have even been deaths.”

Jaune spat in disgust in response to her words.

“But if you’re asking me why he did this?” Weiss shook her head. “I’d imagine it’s because I’ve become enough of a problem to be an annoyance to him. I’ve been drumming up buzz around the Schnee name that isn’t being directly controlled by our PR department, and to him, that’s the greatest sin I could’ve possibly committed. Make no mistake; he cares little, if at all, for my wellbeing. He simply doesn’t want me to roaming about and making a ‘mockery’ of his good name.”

“It seems he’s doing enough of that on his own.”

Weiss appreciated the sentiment. “Yes, well… were that he was capable of self-reflection, I believe the world would be a much better place. Alas, he is not. He is an arrogant worm of a man, who worries for his own fortune and legacy over anything else. Even his own family.”

“That…”

Weiss looked over to see Jaune, yet again, reflecting on something. She gave him a few moments, wondering if he would start speaking again, and lo and behold, he did.

“My father was a good man.” He began, his voice wistful; distant. “He was a just and fair king as well, but more than that, I knew him for the man he was beyond his crown. He was the kind of ruler who would walk the streets of his kingdom, and chat with the passersby. He was the kind of ruler who would drink at the local tavern with the guards after a successful treatise with a neighboring state. The king of ruler who would choose peace over war every single time, if given the option.”

“I was quite young when I discovered that I was to be raised, as my brother was, to be the king. This was after my mother passed away, you see. My father, I suppose, realized that life was far less certain than he’d have wished for it to be. Because of that, he wished for me to be, I thought at the time, a backup in case my brother was to be otherwise indisposed. After all, even with magic, as I’ve said before, the ability to cure maladies of sickness, or heal the injured, was something thought to be of the gods themselves. None, even in our entire kingdom, wielded such powers.”

“I wished to be a scientist, as you would call them in this day and age. In my time, they were astronomers, or alchemists, or herbalists. Those who asked questions about the world, and sought to answer them.”

“You’ve told me before.”

“Mm. I have. ‘Twas not my destiny, unfortunately. So, I learned to be a ruler, as my brother had already been doing for a decade before me. Despite that fact, that he had such a start on me, I oft compared myself to him. Such was foolhardy, of course, but I was but a boy, and boys are rather egotistical.”

“So, I was unsatisfied with my progress, despite the fact that my tutors told me, time and time again, that I was not slow. In fact, I was faster than average. It was just that Caeser, my brother, was a prodigy in most aspects. He was an adept rider, a fiercely powerful mage, and a swordsman of the highest renown. His oration brought men and women alike to tears, and his ability to deftly weave conversations towards his goals, above all others, was such that he was once named the ‘Silver-Tongued Prince’. Most saw him as a worthy successor to my father’s throne. I was much the same, of course. I adored my older brother for my entire childhood. Looking back, however…”

Jaune sighed, and ran a hand down his face.

“There were signs quite early that Caeser was presenting a false front. Word from some of the maids and servants about the castle said that Caeser was often far curter with them when he was alone. That, and he was oft alone, rarely spotted with others. Such things were not damning on their own, but this was also combined with a general distaste for the common folk. He never went with my father into the city for his patrols, and never met with any of the people keeping the city running, such as the guard captain, or the major officers.”

“Obviously, none of that meant that Caeser was not fit to be king. I myself probably assumed he was simply shy. But my father… he always had a better eye for these things than I did. I wonder, now, if the true reason my father decided to have me brought up as a Prince was because he knew from the start of the darkness lurking within his eldest son. If he already knew what would befall the lands of D’Arc should he take power.”

“Of course, then Caeser married. And I think that was what melted away my father’s initial fears. Caeser was a different person with his wife. Kind, conscientious, and loving. He was warm, and happy. If, at all other times, he presented only a front of who he was, with her he was himself. Unfortunately, his wife passed just a few moons after his daughter was born. In that daughter, however, he found that same companionship. He loved Salem. Salem loved him. He took the throne… a half decade or so after that. My father seemed satisfied. It was odd. Once he had vacated the throne, it was like the life just… drained from him. Without the responsibility of being king, his soul simply wanted to rest.”

“He passed the following summer. I remember the day. It was bright and sunny out. It felt… antithetical that my father of all people, so very bright and wonderful, could perish on a day where there was not a single cloud painted in the heavens. His funeral was grand and ostentatious. Something he’d have never allowed if he were alive.” Jaune laughed at that. “I… I remember very little of it. I spent the majority of that time crying. I was no more than thirteen or fourteen, perhaps younger than that. My father’s death took a toll on me, but… I think it took a toll on my brother as well.”

“He had already lost so many. Mother, and his wife, and now father as well. Where he had been recovering, becoming a better person, he once again slipped. Years passed with nothing much occurring. Which sounds odd, but then, the initial years of a king’s reign are mostly spent being tested by those in and around them. People wondering what they can and cannot get away with when it comes to a different king than the last. My brother spent his time keeping idiots in line, and reestablishing deals with our closest neighbors.”

“It was not until I was… eighteen or nineteen, perhaps, that my brother sought to remove me from the capital altogether. I do not even truly remember what it was that prompted such. I know that, around that time, I had begun to grow frustrated with my own lack of ability. I wished to make up for my lack of strength, and so, when the court magicians presented me with a new power, that of dark magics, I leapt at the opportunity.”

“That power… well, I shalt discuss such with thee another time. For now, know only that when my brother saw what I had done, what I was now capable of, he looked for any excuse to remove me as an obstacle to whatever plans he had made. He had me banished from the kingdom. I raged and screamed at him, but… well, there was some part of me that felt guilty for what I’d done; for embracing darkness as I had. I did not entirely blame him for throwing me out.”

“And then I ended up in Oakenshire. From there, thou knowest the story.”

Weiss did. She had been entirely lost in Jaune’s telling for the last ten to fifteen minutes, and had subsequently lost track of time.

“Thank you, for telling me that.” She said, a bit wistful herself. “It is good to know that one of us had a half-decent relationship with their family, at least.”

“Hah, I would not describe my relationship with Caeser as half-decent, but with my father and mother? Yes, I suppose it was.”

That brought something up that Weiss had, admittedly, been a tad bit curious about.

“You’ve talked about your father and your brother quite a bit. …What of your mother? I don’t think I’ve heard you speak at length about her. “

“Ah.” Jaune sighed out, sounding a bit sad. “That would be because I barely remember her. She was… motherly. Although that is a rather poor descriptor, I suppose.” Weiss chuckled, but otherwise tried to stay silent. “She had light blonde hair. Emerald green eyes. She was pale, far too much so. Sickly, I suppose. The kind of person for whom running a mile could well be fatal.”

“But she had such a wonderful spirit. She was curious, and playful. It was said that my father had once been a more uptight man. The kind of person one would expect in a noble. Curt and short and single-minded. That all changed when he met and fell in love with my mother.” Jaune’s countenance lit up. Weiss saw, in that moment, that he remembered more than he perhaps cared to. “Ugh, they’d embarrass both myself and my brother at their galas and balls. They’d dance and sing so ridiculously, and have the entire room abounding with gaiety. Other times my mother would commission ludicrous paintings from the artisans in the castle town, of my father with a pot belly and a pig’s tail, or with the head of a small breed of dog. Hah… That…”

Jaune’s expression fell, then, until he was staring off at the wall behind Weiss, not even really there.

“…That was perhaps the happiest time of my life. It… lasted so short a time. My mother died when I was… young. Very young. Too young to see that my father and brother, both, were hurting terribly. That the kingdom of D’Arc was mourning their queen as well, who had been nothing but wondrous to them. I think my father… tried to become more like her, after her death. It is a part of the reason why he became so outspoken, so playful. Perhaps it was all an act. Or perhaps… perhaps it was his means of honoring her.”

“…What was her name?”

He smiled. “Joanna. Joanna de Leville Lamon. Or, well, that was her name before she married into the D’Arc’s. After that, she was Joanna de Leville D’Arc.”

Weiss leaned forward on her bed. “She sounds wonderful.”

“She was.” He remarked, and his voice carried a sorrowful reminiscence with it.

“…She really was.”

Silence reigned. For a while, nothing at all was said. Finally, Weiss found herself yawning, and she realized that she probably did need rest. She hadn’t had much chance that day, what with the constant run-ins with bounty hunters trying to get rich quick.

“I’m… going to sleep a while.” She told Jaune.

“Understandable. I will remain here, then.”

“Do you not need to sleep?”

“Hm?”

“I figured that you might need to… turn off every once in a while.”

“Ah. Well…” Jaune sighed. “Such are the effects of the magic that has taken ahold of me. Once again, I will speak to thee more on them another time. For now… well, dark magics are called such for a reason. There is always a price to pay for power…”

“And I hath paid it in full.”

/

“You do understand what you’re here to do, yes?”

“Oh, remind me again, Wattsy-poo.”

Tyrian Callows giggled out under his breath in purest glee as Watts growled in annoyance. It was always such fun to mess with the serious members of their group, none more so than Watts and Cinder. It was such a shame the latter had left their ranks. He’d always liked having her around to trick and tease.

Ah, well. He’d just have to settle for killing her instead.

Yes, that was a fine substitute.

“You are to retrieve the mirror containing the Dread King,” Watts seethed as he repeated himself. “It is currently located, alongside its bearer, within the building you see before you.”

Tyrian lowered the scroll in his hands, showing that below, sure enough, there was an old building of some kind that had been converted into a base. The group that resided within it were apparently called the Happy Huntresses, which was a name so dripping with ironic potential that Tyrian almost wanted to kill a good half its members just to see what would happen.

Would they be the Sorrowful Huntresses? The Angry Huntresses? Oh, how curious he was!

He had a mission, unfortunately. Not even one provided to him by his goddess. Of course, The others all worked in her service, but none of them cared in the same way that Tyrian did. If he had it his way, it would be but him and blessed Salem together against the world.

“Oh, and do kill Cinder if you’re given the opportunity.” Watts continued on. Tyrian had missed a good half of his objectives, but that was fine. It wasn’t like he was going to follow them to the letter, anyways. “Frankly, we’d all be better off to be rid of her.”

Tyrian almost wanted to bring Cinder back alive just to see the look on Watts’ face. Unfortunately, they were in agreement that Cinder had to be dealt with.

None would betray his goddess and survive. He would not allow it.

He felt something, then, on the very edges of his periphery. Tyrian had often been told that his intuition bordered on freakish, but frankly, he’d had little choice with the life he’d lived but to develop instincts that could hone in on even the most basic of stimuli. He looked down at his scroll, blew Watts a kiss, and chuckled as the man hung up on him.

He pocketed the device, zipped the pocket up, and turned around.  

“And who’s our mysterious visitor, hm?”

There was no one there; at least not visually. Tyrian knew for a fact, however, that someone was nearby, and he was rewarded by an impressed-sounding grunt.

“You actually managed to notice me. How curious.”

A being melted from out of the shadows at the other edge of the rooftop. They wore a black cloak over their entire body, disguising any more notable features, and their face was covered with a horrendously rusted mask, which reminded Tyrian of one of his favorite stories.

“And who might you be, oh rusted one?” He chimed out, extending a hand in greeting.

“My name is Cheshire.”

“And for what reason are you here, Cheshire?”

“Before I tell you that, might I ask you a question?”

Tyrian tilted his head to one side. How odd. He was not used to meeting many people like him.

It was oddly refreshing. He decided then and there to hear the being out.

“Why, certainly. I’ve nothing better to do.”

“Excellent.” The thing nodded its head. “For what reason do you serve that woman?”

For a moment, Tyrian couldn’t even parse the question. It took him another to understand the meaning hidden within, and when he did, a profound rage overtook him.

“Do not refer to her with a title so mundane!” Tyrian hissed. “She is a goddess amongst mortals! Her word is as law, and I shall have it respected!”

“My apologies. I meant no offense at all.”

Tyrian’s breathing evened out, but only just so.  

“Hmph. Do not make such a mistake again.”

“I shan’t, of that you have my word. But I would ask you answer the question, nonetheless. To what end do you serve your goddess?”

Tyrian thought on the nature of the question for a while. It was deceptive in its simplicity, for he had so many different answers he could provide.

“She saved me.” He decided on saying. “Granted me a purpose beyond the hell I had known for all my life. I was but a humble slave, and she lifted me up, freed me from my bonds, helped me to bring holy retribution to those who had wronged me… how else could I repay her but to become her most hallowed messenger? An angel of the goddess!? I aim only to share her bountiful kindness with the world!”

Cheshire tilted their head to one side. “Hm. How intriguing. My own gods abandoned me. They left me behind, and created new beings. They cherished them, stayed with them… and those creations did not appreciate them a bit. For that…”

Cheshire turned to him, and though Tyrian could not see their eyes, he knew they were peering into Tyrian’s own.

“I will make those creations suffer.”

So, they wished to extract revenge? Such a paltry goal, but Tyrian had once been so simply-minded as well, before his eyes had been opened. Such could be given to this being as well.

“Tell me, would you be interested in serving my goddess? I promise you; she is a being of purest kindness.”

“I’m afraid I have to decline.” Cheshire shook their head. “I have things I must do, and your goddesses’ goals do not align with them.”

He felt a twinge go up the back of his spine, then, and his fingers twitched, his feet already taking a stance.

“Ah, a shame. If your own goals go against my goddesses’…”

Tyrian drew the Queen’s Servants, and bent low, poised to strike at a moment’s notice.

“Then you will have to be removed.”

“I’m afraid it is the same for me.” Cheshire’s voice did not sound apologetic. “You would but get in my way. I still require the girl and her mirror to stay within Atlas unaccosted for the time being. And it seems your goal is very much in the way of that.”

“Oh? After the mirror as well?”

“In some manner, yes.” From underneath Cheshire’s cloak, an arm emerged, clad in a rusted bracer and an old, leather glove. From out of it sprang a luminescent claw, which almost glowed with neon pinks and blues. “But I’ve little need to explain myself to you. After all…”

And then, without warning, Cheshire simply disappeared.

Tyrian had but a moment to react, but react he did. His tail flicked, catching the spectral claws that threatened to come down on him from behind.

He turned, and saw his assailant bearing down on him.

“You’ll be dead in just a moment’s time.”

The follow up attack was just as ferocious, and Tyrian pivoted back, using his ability to bend in unnatural ways to duck beneath the claws that raked across where his face had been just a second prior. He flipped back, and, in midair, tried to lash out with his stinger, to strike against Cheshire’s flesh.

It struck metal. Armor below the cloak.

He was buffeted back by a strike from the other arm. Cheshire wielded two pairs of claws, now. Each grew from out of their hands like phantom gloves.

Tyrian giggled to himself as he stood. He could already tell this would be fun.

“Hah! You’re good.”

Cheshire said nothing. They tilted their head to one side, and then the other. Tyrian couldn’t see anything beneath the mask, but from this angle, with the moonlight at his back, he could just barely see the reflection of eyes staring back at him.

They glowed with that same pink and blue as the claws.

“So, just what are you?” He asked, far too curious himself. “You’re no human being, and you’re no faunus, either.”

“Oh? You can tell that?”

“Someone less astute wouldn’t be able to, I’m sure, but I have a knack for these sorts of things. Since I’ll be dead anyways, why don’t you tell me? I’m practically dying of curiosity over here.”

“Fine,” Cheshire hissed out, leaping at Tyrian and attempting to strike him. He attacked back, not missing a beat. “Perhaps this would be an adequate way of getting out some of the annoyance,” Cheshire annunciated that particular word as their claw batted away Tyrian’s tail, and scored a nasty hit on his chest, knocking him to the cold roof below. “that’s been building within me!”

“Oh!?” Tyrian questioned despite having his back to cold, hard stone. “Do tell!”

Claws impacted the roof where he’d been laid, but he was quicker than that, sliding through Cheshire’s legs and striking their groin with his stinger. It was a normally unarmored area, after all, but aura – not armor – caught the blow, preventing it from doing any real damage.

He’d need to strip the aura from that spot, then, if he wanted to strike beneath.

His opponent spun in place, trying to strike out at him as he made distance. It was a good hit, but not quite enough to make contact with Tyrian, who snaked around it.

“For the longest time,” Cheshire began, their voice taking on a hint of feverish anger. “I was left behind, made to think I was worser, lesser, than those my creators chose over me. After long enough, I simply assumed they must’ve been right. That these new creations would be the apex of all; above any of the creations that I myself knew quite well.”

“But then, one day, without warning, stars began to fall in my land, and from them came those very creations; those that my creators had chosen over me! And what did I find!?”

Cheshire swung, and this time, the claws dug through Tyrian’s own aura, scraping away at his skin, and the muscle beneath. He was so surprised by that newfound ability that he was blindsided by another blow, and sent hurtling off of the roof.

He landed hard on another a way’s away, lower by two or so stories. He had no choice but to force himself up, flipping off of the ground as Cheshire slammed down on where he’d just been.

“I found a people worse than those my creators had left behind!” Cheshire shouted, quivering with rage. “Selfish, arrogant, greedy creatures! They were far from the perfect specimens that I had come to expect! And what was worse was that those I had met were supposed to be the better ones! They told tales of awful, terrible people, who’d done even worser things than they! Far worser! In my land, the actions that these beings had taken were unthinkable, and yet, my creators had chosen them!? Over me!?”

Tyrian dodged inwards, trying to take the offensive. Yet he was matched blow for blow. Whoever this Cheshire person was, they were more skilled than he’d initially assumed. They batted some of Tyrian’s trickiest attacks away like they were nothing, and answered in kind with ones that Tyrian had difficulty fending off at all.

As odd as it was to admit it; he was losing.

“And so, I knew what I must do!” Cheshire yelled out, catching Tyrian’s stinger before it could close in on his head, and breaking the joint at the tip. Tyrian seethed with pain, but he couldn’t yet fix that problem. He had to win, first. “I had to confirm the veracity of what I had been told! So, I made the journey here, with help from an old friend,” Tyrian found himself kicked in the stomach, and the air knocked out of him. “I arrived here, and I sought my quarry. The journey was long, and arduous, and during it, I saw much of humanity with my own eyes.”

“Yet, I could not trust my eyes and ears, my thoughts, for my creators had not trusted them! And so, instead, I focused on another. I journeyed to a source of supreme and absolute truth, and I asked of it if what I had been told was true.”

Tyrian was flagging. His aura was barely there, and already, it had been breached during this battle. Some… some ability to manipulate aura? How?

“And it was.” Cheshire’s voice was disgusted; utterly repulsed. “These people had cast away my creators; shunned and abandoned by them. And in return, my creators had seen just how wicked and spiteful these newest creations were. And because of it, they left even this land behind entirely.”

Cheshire turned down, and looked Tyrian in the eye. The bright, broken moon silhouetted them against the sky.

“In that moment… I knew my mission!”

Tyrian was thrown back by a combined attack from both claws, and then, when he least expected it, Cheshire grew a tail of their own, which snaked out like a barbed whip and smacked against Tyrian’s aura. He smiled and grimaced all at once, thrilled to be this entertained.

But Salem would be disappointed in him if he failed here. So, he could not; would not. His aura was failing him, but it had to last; he’d make it last! He charged forth, drew his singular remaining blade up in front of him–

“I will cleanse these mongrels, and create a world that they, my creators, will return to!”

And then Cheshire was on him.

There was no interim moment. No dash or leap. Tyrian had blinked, and that was that.

He had a moment, a single, solitary instance of time to recognize that the game was over, that he’d been defeated, before three glowing, spectral claws sunk into his chest, and emerged out of his back.

He hacked up painfully, stumbling back as Cheshire drew their claws from out of him. He hit the ground hard, his vision blurring from the impact.

It… was this really…

“Ah. But I must thank you. I really do feel much better.”

Tyrian wheezed, the wound on his chest bleeding profusely onto the rooftop beneath him.

“I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me. Had I not had this chance to vent, I imagine I’d have unleashed these emotions on someone else, and that could’ve been quite bad. If I had done so upon some civilian, why, my own allies would be at my throat. And that just wouldn’t do.”

Tyrian could but stare at the sky, flush with the ground as he was. He heard the sound of footsteps. They grew closer.

“My apologies, again. I really would’ve liked to speak with you more. Alas, it seems that was not to be.”

Cheshire’s spectral claws had grown to a frightening size as their bearer stepped over Tyrian. Their shadow in the moonlight completely obscured Tyrian from view.

He saw no light. Nothing.

Only the darkness that lurked within Cheshire.

“Goodbye, servant of a false goddess.”

And then the claws swung down.

Chapter Text

Cheshire arrived back at the ‘base’ – again, it was an old building that stunk of mildew – the following morning like them going missing was an entirely normal thing to have happen. To be fair, it kind of was, and so no one really made a big deal out of it.

Weiss nodded casually to them before meeting up with some of the Happy Huntresses, who were busy organizing both the defense of the wall, and relief efforts for the disenfranchised citizens of Mantle, who were no longer receiving support from Atlas. Weiss found herself more and more disgusted every time she looked up, and saw her father’s message about bringing her back to him playing on repeat.

The amount of money he was offering in reward for her return could’ve instead been given out to people in need, or simply to the infrastructure of Mantle as a whole, and improved the lives of thousands, perhaps tens of thousands.

But her father was no philanthropist. He often pretended to be, of course, donating to places like Atlas Academy and Beacon, or hosting charity events, but such were only ever for the purpose of boosting his own image. He sought those causes which would net him the most popularity, not those causes who actually needed the help.

They just happened to have positive side effects.

He could’ve at least done such a thing while offering such a staggering amount of money for her return. But no. Instead, he dangled a carrot on a stick in front of the downtrodden people of Mantle, and thusly, had them in a fervor trying to get a hold of Weiss.

These were the thoughts running through her head as she confirmed with the Happy Huntresses that, once again, it was far too dangerous for her to be outside. Not too dangerous for her, to be clear, but to the many, many people trying to get their hands on her out in Mantle. If they spotted her, and all collectively came down on the Happy Huntresses’ hidden base at once, then a good many people might be injured, or worse.

So, she was to remain in the base for the time being. So far, no one had traced her here, and while it annoyed her quite a bit, the rest of her little number – minus Cheshire, who did what they wanted – were in the same situation.

So, she did nothing for around thirty minutes before deciding to retreat back into her room in the compound, and trying to find something to do.

She ended up taking a nap. There was precious little entertainment in a building with limited electricity and spotty running water.

Weiss awoke a few hours later, smelled herself, and realized that she should probably at least try to take a shower, despite how unreliable the ones here were. She made her way to the bathroom, fiddled with the nozzle for around five minutes, and then got to enjoy about two minutes of lukewarm water before it was entirely freezing.

She made it back to her room a shivering mess, trying to ignore the way her entire being was vibrating with fury.

She sighed, forcing herself to let go of the annoyance radiating off of her. It wasn’t doing her any good. Instead, she changed into a different outfit than she’d had on during her time in Mistral – something with some dark blue accents. She walked over to Jaune’s mirror, and turned it around, so that he was facing the room again, and not staring at the wall.

“Ah, finished changing?”

She hummed out in answer, walking over to a nearby mirror – well, an actual mirror, and not a separate dimension housing an eons’ old king – and doing her hair. She decided to try something a bit different, going for thicker braids that would shorten the length of her hair by quite a bit, making it much easier to manage. It was not at all a quick process, but seeing as how she had literally nothing else to do…

Well, she had the time.

Some few hours later, she’d finished, and she stared at herself in the mirror and hummed appreciatively at what she saw.

“I must say, thou cleanest up quite well.”

Weiss let out a breath of mirth. “Is that to imply that such is not to be expected?”

“Learn to take a compliment.” Jaune rolled his eyes. “Still… tis somewhat aggravating to be tied down here, is it not?”

She was surprised Jaune would care about that given he was perpetually trapped within his mirror.

“Random question,” She prefaced. “But how large is the space within your mirror there?”

“Hm? In here?” Jaune looked around. “…I confess, I hath never truly checked all that thoroughly. Large enough that I’ve not yet encountered the confines directly. If thou wouldst like, I can go and check.”

She nodded, and Jaune disappeared. That lasted a good ten minutes. Eventually, he came back.

“It appears as if this space is entirely liminal. I do not believe there are boundaries. I walked for ten-odd minutes to the right, but then, when I decided I had gone far enough, and turned back around to make the return journey, I found that I was only a few steps from this viewport out into the real world.”

Hm. So, no matter how far Jaune traveled within the mirror, he couldn’t actually go anywhere.

“How do you feel about that?”

“I do not particularly care.” Jaune shrugged. “If I thought I had any chance of escape, then perhaps I would be perturbed about such, but I do not. Thusly, such does not affect me.”

Weiss hummed in understanding, before walking over towards the door. She was thinking about what she wanted to do, before, again, remembering that she was to remain here, without leaving the Happy Huntresses’ compound.

She frowned, sighed, and then walked back over to her bed, and sat down.

“Entertain me.” She petulantly stated.

Jaune raised an eyebrow. “Okay… I suppose I could continue my tale from before the Apathy interrupted.”

Weiss’ eyes widened. “After your brother removed you from the capital once more?”

“Indeed.” Jaune spoke, sighing. “Wouldst thou like to hear of it?”

“I would. Your stories are always quite intriguing.”

“Hm. I was worried thou would not be interested in such topics.”

“Why would you worry about that?”

“I… suppose thou art right.” Jaune cleared his throat, evidently choosing not to elaborate on his original feelings. “So, there I was, removed from the capital. I was given the courtesy of getting my horse, Delilah, but after that, I was forbidden from ever returning under penalty of death. Well, technically, that was not communicated to me directly, but I understood that that was the underlying sentiment. And so, I made my way back to Oakenshire.”

/

Jaune had been hoping that his return to the small hobble of Oakenshire would be a triumphant one; that he could march back into town and declare with vivacity that he’d convinced his brother of the error of his ways, or better yet, that he’d managed to convince whatever evil force had been manipulating him behind the scenes to stand down. Instead, as he approached the town, he could not help but deflate somewhat.

Even Delilah seemed to notice his dampened mood, and her steps slowed as they crossed the final few gates, and were seen by the first of the guardsmen.

Jaune wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected, but the man at the gate broke out into a wide, beaming smile, turned, and called out, “Jaune’s returned!”

Jaune was somewhat flummoxed by such a response, and even more so when multiple figures ran out of their homes, saw him as had been announced, and smiled with relief.

“Oh, Jaune!” One of the farm hands rushed over, and took the bridle of Delilah as he dismounted. “You’re back! You actually… we thought you…”

It didn’t occur to Jaune until then just how late he was. It had taken him an entire extra week to make it to the capital than he’d originally said, and then, after that, it had taken him quite some time to return, too, given he was in low spirits.

It had to have been two weeks beyond when he said might be the longest time he would take to return. An entire fortnight.

They’d thought him dead.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.” He nodded the man’s way. Terry, he was fairly certain his name was. “Please, take Delilah and give her a fitting meal. I confess she did not eat particularly well when she was with me.”

Terry nodded his head, before leading Delilah away by the reins.

He was met in the main square by a smattering of people he knew. Darwin, Archibald, the twins who chopped wood, whose names he always forgot for some reason – ah, Billy and Joseph, right – alongside a smattering of other people.

And they had all come out to greet him.

“Where were ya’, boy!” Archie yelled at him, smacking him upside the back of his head, which hurt more than he’d have cared to admit. “Had the whole town in a tizzy worryin’ for ya!”

“I am sorry, everyone.” He bowed his head. “I… my route ended up being changed due to a number of factors, and because of that, it took another fortnight for my return.”

“Aye, that it did!” Barbara, the barber – and yes, she got comments about that particular coincidence all the time – called out to him. “We were worried sick! Thought you’d keeled over and died on the side of the road somewhere, or worse!”

They thought he might’ve been executed by his brother. They… weren’t entirely wrong to think that.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t convince my brother of anything at all. He… he admitted that he was the mind behind these taxation policies. And then he had me banished from the capital once more. I do believe that appearing again there would result in my summary execution.”

“No one’s blamin’ ya’ for that, Jaune.” Archie shook his head. “You’re a good kid, but we’ve been dealing with this for years now. Don’t fret over it. We’ll survive. We’ve done so well enough so far.”

Even if that was true, they shouldn’t have had to. Unfortunately, Jaune had already attempted to fix the problem as best he could, and come away with nothing.

He’d failed.

Now…

Now, there was nothing more for him to do.

He made his excuses to the crowd – although not before promising to go drinking with everyone once he’d gotten some rest – and made for his little abode on the edge of town. It was quiet as he entered, and dusty from not having seen use in a month.

It was not a comfortable silence as he laid himself down, and stared up at the thatch ceiling above him. Yet… he could do nothing about that.

So, instead, he simply rested his eyes, and allowed sleep to take him.

/

The next few months went by in a mix of haste and lethargy. At times weeks would pass in the blink of an eye, and at others a single day would tax Jaune entirely. The work around the farm grew far harder as the winter took full hold of them, and so it was that Jaune spent the majority of his time in and around the tavern, drinking himself into a stupor.

Apparently, that was a custom of the winters, given that there was little else to do but get drunk. No one begrudged him for copying what everyone else was doing.

Eventually, some months later, the spring arrived, and what should have been the first few bundles of trade arriving from the nearby towns.

Yet, curiously, one of their trading partners didn’t show. Oakenshire had four; there was Goldriver, to the north, Makersbridge, to the northeast, Darsburg, southwest, and the village that had failed to arrive to trade with them, Balewood.

It was not Jaune who noticed this, but their merchants. Word simply spread quickly in a town as small as Oakenshire, where the people numbered in the hundreds.

“What do you think happened?” Jaune heard some of the other farmhands discussing as he went to milk one of their cows.

“Could’ve been an accident on the roads; landslide, fallen oak, something like that. Could’ve been bandits.”

“Aye, that’s what I’m concerned about. If it’s bandits, we’re right screwed, ya’?”

Jaune listened along with their words as he finished his work for the day, and sort of expected to head to bed as normal. Later that evening, however, the town bell rang, which meant that they were all to assemble in the main square.

So, Jaune went over, and found that Archibald had apparently sought to gather them all.

“As y’all know,” He’d never been much for patience, and so he got right to the point. “Balewood recently failed to show for their bi-yearly trade. Not a big problem on its own, but it could point to a lot of different signs of trouble. I’m lookin’ to cut that off at the pass before it can become a bigger problem. So, I vote that a small company be sent out to investigate the path to Balewood, and see if we can’t find our missing traders.”

It wasn’t a particularly popular decision; losing workman at the very cusp of spring, when seeds needed to be planted, and animals needed to be attended to, was apt to lose them a large haul in the far future. But as things were, a bandit problem could be far, far worse.

Archibald was playing things safe.

“I vote alongside Archie.” Jaune stepped forward, raising his hand. “I’ll volunteer to go alongside the band that goes as well.”

“Aye, good man, Jaune.” Archibald nodded his way. “Anyone else?”

After Jaune broke the ice, a plethora of people eventually volunteered. In the end, they had a party of some dozen or so people, and they set out the following day on horseback. It was a three-day journey, and Jaune couldn’t quite help but feel some degree of nervousness.

There was just… something wrong. He could feel it in the very air around them. The magics of the world were aching, and he knew not why.

None of the others seemed to notice, and so Jaune kept quiet.

The following days passed by slowly, as they always did when nerves played about Jaune’s heart. Despite riding on horseback, they often had to stop and take breaks for a variety of reasons. The most obvious of those were things like food and drink, but less obvious were looking out for signs of bandit activity.

They would scan the roads for signs of discarded cloth or jewelry, things that could’ve been dropped during looting, or, of course, carts that had been knocked off the track. They saw signs of the occasional large animal having been felled, but nothing to indicate that bandits were hunting in and around the area.

Their party, also, didn’t look particularly intimidating. If there were bandits, they would’ve likely leapt at the chance to try and attack the dozen or so young men who’d decided to travel to Balewood.

Of course, given Jaune’s ability with dark magics, such would not have been too horrible an issue to deal with, but they could not have known as such.

But the bandits did not show, and so, they kept on.

It was not until they were approaching Balewood that the signs of something being seriously wrong became more evident. There were a variety of avians flying high above where Jaune had heard the town was; nestled between the valley of two small hills. Along with that was the fact that, despite still being rather cold, there was no sign of smoke on the horizon from fires being burned.

In fact, it was incredibly quiet.

This far out – nary half an hour’s walk to the town itself – they should’ve at least seen someone by now. But there was no one.

And so it was that they crossed where the first hill would block their sight of the village, and what was beyond it was revealed.

Jaune’s breath caught in his throat.

Some of the others were more vocal in their reactions.

“The village!” One of them cried. “It’s…”

“Come on.” Jaune spoke out, a bitter chill filling his stomach. “Let’s go. We might be able to do something.”

None of the others said anything as he snapped the reins on his horse, and beckoned them forward.

When they finally came to a stop, it was in the middle of a barren ruin of a town.

A fire had taken this place.

Jaune had never been here before, but at a glance, he could tell that it had been burnt to a crisp. The trees had no leaves, and a good few of them had had their entire trunks burned to charcoal. The houses in and around him showed similar signs of fire damage, and as Jaune got closer, he began to smell something, frankly, hideous.

Jaune dismounted his horse, and set about looking around for evidence on what had happened. The town was entirely deserted, which could’ve meant that the people had fled without being caught in the blaze, but…

That was wishful thinking, and he knew it.

He stepped inside the burnt-down ruins of the nearest building, and saw something that had him nearly retching.

It was the curled-up body of a young child, burnt to the point of being entirely unrecognizable.

He stared at the corpse for a long while after that. Long enough that his eyes began to water, and he had no choice but to shake himself out of it. He forced himself to look away, to try and erase the sight from his mind, until he heard someone behind him wailing out in anguish. He turned, and ran towards the sound of agony.

He found one of the boys who had come with them, cradling the body of a badly burned, but still recognizable young man.

He couldn’t have been any older than Jaune was himself – nineteen or twenty.

“Harold…” The boy wept. “This… he used to come visit us every summer… we’d play by the lake for days on end, and he… why would… who…”

Another few of their band came running back, and these ones looked even grimmer than Jaune felt.

“We…” One of them took a harrowed breath. “We found a pile of bodies. They were… they were stacked on top of each other. Looked to me like they were placed there.”

“Then…” Jaune didn’t want to accept it, but…

“Yeah…” Another of them spit onto the ground.

“Someone killed these people. They stacked the bodies to count ‘em. Made sure they got every single one of them.”

It couldn’t have been a pack of bandits, then, for bandits could not do so much. Even thirty or more of them could’ve been fought off by a town militia. No…

“There was somethin’ else,” One of the other boys held up a scroll of parchment. “This… this was nailed to a tree at the top of the hill.”

He handed it to Jaune with a ginger motion. He himself wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but he unfurled it, and read.

‘So is the price for those unable to pay the king’s tribute. Let this serve as a warning. Hail, King Caeser, Lord of the Lands of Light. In his name, any and all who do not meet the king’s tribute shall see their villages razed to the ground.’

…The notice fell from Jaune’s clammy fingers and impacted against the charred ground without a sound. Jaune… he just gazed at his surroundings, at the burnt-out husk of Balewood, and he saw what once had been a bustling town.

It was larger than Oakenshire, likely a few thousand strong. He saw the remains of a marketplace, with the remnants of temporary stalls still standing in some places. He saw what looked to have been a farm a way’s off, with its fields entirely razed, and its livestock slaughtered.

And he looked at the numerous houses around him. At the bodies he could see littering the streets. He saw a larger body clutching a smaller one. He saw two embracing one another, as if wanting comfort in their final moments.

They were dead. All of them. An entire town wiped off the map.

At his brother’s behest.

His fists tightened until his knuckles were white. His jaw clenched until he could almost feel his teeth cracking.

This…

This was not the land of D’Arc his father had shown him.

“…No more… I won’t allow it.”

“J-Jaune…?” one of the others backed away from him, seemingly frightened.

“No more!” He shouted, screamed, and by his will, he would let the very heavens hear it. “I won’t allow my brother to continue to abuse his power like this! I won’t allow more innocent people to suffer under his reign! He is no king! He is a tyrant!”

The people surrounding him were silent as he seethed; as lividity poured off of him, and magics of a dark, almost feral nature began to show on his skin without him even wishing for them to.

He was done with this. he’d had enough. His father had entrusted him, just as he had Caeser, with the qualities that would make a man king.

In that case…

“Gather the group.” He turned to those with him. “We’re going back to Oakenshire. We will ride straight there.”

“And… when we get there?”

“We’re going to march to each of the villages around us. And we’re going to report to them exactly what happened here in Balewood. We will show them the atrocities that have been committed in the name of this kingdom.”

“Yes, I get that, but to what end!?”

“I would’ve thought that would be obvious.” Jaune spoke, his eyes hard.

“We march to Caeser’s end.”

Chapter Text

The trip back to Oakenshire was done at speed. Their horses galloping would’ve given them away for a hundred meters in any direction, but not a one of them cared. Jaune himself pushed poor Delilah far too hard, to the point that his steed was panting heavy and hard. It was another of their band, a young man whose name he didn’t know, who urged them to slow, to see sense, and it was that which ultimately caused them to rest for the day.

Even at a full sprint, they would’ve had to stop eventually. They were not a particularly well-off settlement, and that meant they’d raised all of their horses themselves. None of them came from particularly fine stock, which meant that they were well and truly exhausted by the time they tethered them to a nearby tree, and went and got them ample water.

Jaune volunteered for that, seeing as how he knew he’d not sleep a wink that night. Not with what they’d found; with what he’d promised himself in that moment.

He was not going to sit back and let his brother’s atrocities continue.

He would wrest his brother from the throne. At the point of a blade, if he had to.

But how was the question.

He alone lacked the strength. He had tried to sneak into his brother’s domain, and nearly lost his life because of it. Would have lost it, had his brother not spared him. It was not as if he could simply march back in. He’d likely die before he knew anything was amiss.

He drew water from a nearby stream into a few of their canteens, then slung them along his back. It was a half a mile back to their camp site, and that gave Jaune time to think uninterrupted.

Which was likely not what he needed.

His thoughts returned, over and over again, to the sight of the bodies that had littered Balewood. The burnt husks of parents, children, lovers. Of animals, cattle, and houses. Of lives, burned to the ground.

And for what? For power? For status!?

Jaune ground his teeth together until the pain was nigh unbearable. Only then did he relent. He tried to flush his mind of the terrible images, but they haunted him unrelentingly during his entire journey back. He knelt before the horses and drew out one of the great pans they’d brought with them. he filled it with seven or eight canteens worth of water, which would, likely, barely constitute enough for the horses.

So, he went for another trip, and then another, still, when he realized that having access to fresh water was a commodity they might not have the following day. He refilled everyone’s canteens, and then finally laid down to rest.

He did not sleep, just as predicted.

They rode at a steady pace the following day. The initial lividity had faded, but in its wake laid a cold fury, one which burned in each of them. Jaune himself rode at the head of the pack. He was not sure when he had become the de facto leader of their band, but it seemed that in the wake of what they’d found in Balewood, a good many of their number had sought to follow behind him.

He was not a leader. Not truly. He’d been a spoilt brat for much of his life; never once knowing the true hardships of life. It was only recently that he’d awoken to the world, and seen how it truly was.

And perhaps because of that, he could lead.

…He would think on such things later. When he had the time.

If he had the time.

Another day’s travel found them back in Oakenshire by midday. It was clear they had not been suspected back quite so soon, and the people of the village were concerned as to what their grim faces, and overall moods, could have meant.

Jaune was the one to give the report of what they’d found. The crowd who’d gathered to hear it reacted almost exactly as he had, albeit they were somewhat muted. Jaune had not reported the full truth. Such would have been cruel. There was no reason for them to know, with certainty, that families had been burned in their own homes.

They likely suspected as much without him having to tell them.

“We can’t allow my brother to act as he has so far any longer.” Jaune announced, his voice firm. “He needs to be stopped!”

A few voices in the crowd nodded along with him, but most others seemed hesitant to agree.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” One of the farmhands, Jeremiah, called out in question. “They burnt that village to the ground. I doubt the people there just let ‘em do it. But they couldn’t do a thing to stop ‘em.”

“That’s why we’re not going to try and stand up to them alone.” Jaune called out. “We’re going to go around the countryside, and raise a force to put a stop to this.”

“With what time?” The blacksmith called out. “We ain’t got that much time in the year, boy. We need to be plantin’ seeds so that we don’t all starve when those bastards come by for the tribute. We can’t afford to be galivantin’ across the countryside!”

It wasn’t a popular opinion that the man has expressed, but nonetheless, it was one that the vast majority of the people of Oakenshire seemed to agree with. They simply couldn’t afford to spend weeks, nay, months, traveling around the lands of D’Arc in the hopes of amassing a force powerful enough to end his brother’s reign.

And Jaune couldn’t truly blame them for that, either. After all, there were plenty of families who needed to feed their children, craftsmen who needed to make a living. He wouldn’t begrudge them that.

“That’s understandable.” Jaune nodded along, even as some of the members of the crowd reacted poorly, thinking he was backing away from his initial claims. Mostly, it was those who’d been with him and seen Balewood. “But even so, I’m not about to sit back and live comfortably while other’s lives are forfeit. I will act, as my father bade me to. Even if I must go alone, I shall.”

And with that, Jaune returned to his own room on Archibald’s ranch. It was a tiny thing, not at all like the accommodations that he’d once held within his father’s castle.

But it was a home that he’d come to appreciate over the past few months.

He wasn’t sure just how long it was he’d still be staying there in Oakenshire, but it was clear that it wasn’t going to be much longer. A few days’ time, at most.

He laid down that night and stared up at the ceiling, trying to keep his mind clear. But anger filled him. He saw those bodies once more. That notice that had been left for anyone to find.

His brother had to pay for what he’d done.

Even if it had to be Jaune to do it.

/

In the end, Jaune left Oakenshire with but four people at his back. All of them had been a part of the initial search party sent to Balewood.

He knew their names, now. Magnus, Reed, Tobias, and Timothy. They rode for one of their neighboring villages, both to warn them of what might come about as a result of his brother’s reign, and to try and gather more people who might ride with them.

After all, Jaune held no illusions as to what it would take to defeat his brother. An army was a necessity. To try and assault the crown city without one would be suicide.

And he was not intent on dying so easily.

The first village they arrived in was Goldriver, which had been due north of Oakenshire, and nearly the opposite direction from the road they’d taken to reach Balewood. If news had reached them of Balewood’s failure to show for trade – which it likely had, given the two villages traded with one another quite frequently – then they might have even begun to suspect the truth.

Still, their riders were received without worry or suspicion. Jaune asked to speak with the mayor, and though Goldriver didn’t have an official one – much like Oakenshire – it had one in spirit. Oakenshire had Archibald, and Goldriver, it seemed, had an old crone of a woman, whose name was Gertrude.

Jaune explained the situation to her, first and foremost. Despite his wish for allies, and a force at his back, he wasn’t going to cause panic within the village without reason.

When he told Gertrude, however…

“We have known for quite a while.”

Jaune wasn’t the only one shocked. Magnus and Reed both seemed shocked at the answer.

“We sent a scout to Balewood two fortnights ago. They returned shaken, and reported what they found there to me. I have since held that information close to the chest. It would not do to panic the people of the village during our most crucial time; the spring.”

It was the same reason that many back in Oakenshire had not wished to go along with the band he’d brought; why even some of those who’d gone to see what had happened in Balewood had not accompanied him.

He could understand.

“Even so,” Jaune refused to back down fully. “I urge you to understand that the next Balewood could very well be Goldriver.”

“Not,” Gertrude shook her head, “if our taxes are paid. And that is what I am trying to guarantee; that come the fall, during the harvest, we will have enough to not end up like Balewood. I’m sorry, but if you’ve come to try and take able-bodied workers, then I would ask that you leave. We cannot afford such.”

That was that, it seemed, and so their band stayed but a few more hours to rest and recuperate before they were back on the road, this time east. Makersbridge was but a small jaunt from there, and they could easily cover the journey within a few hours on horseback.

And yet, when they arrived, the situation was the same. They attempted to convince the villages chief that the situation was untenable, that sooner or later it would be them, but they were content to attempt to avoid that within the confines that had been set out for them by Caeser.

“And what will you do when they raise the tribute?” Jaune asked, beginning to grow annoyed by the behavior he’d seen from the villages they’d visited. “What will you do when it is your people at risk of being set ablaze!?”

“We will do what we must.” The man said simply. “Now, if you don’t mind, there is work to be done.”

They traveled to another town, and received much the same. Another came and went. Over the course of the next three or four weeks, they visited eleven towns, and gathered a scant two extra people to travel with them. Both of them – Eleanor and Brendan – had come with them despite their villages concerns as well.

“Why can’t they see how foolish this is!?” Jaune stamped a foot in the dirt after they’d yet again been rejected. “What reason could there possibly be…?”

“Because they’re content.” Eleanor spoke out in answer. “Because they’re not being threatened, and to go about their lives as they always have is far easier than to try and uproot everything for the scant chance at a better one.”

“But that’s just…”

“Foolish?” Eleanor laughed. “Yes, I much agree. But that is how most people are. They are concerned with themselves and those immediately close to them, and no others.”

It was a truly bleak outlook, and the worst part was that he could not bring himself to entirely discount what Eleanor had said. He shook his head and decided that, for the time being, riding around without a plan was doing them little good.

“For now, we can return to Oakenshire.” He announced, before turning to Eleanor and Brendan. “I appreciate you both, but if you’d rather return to your homes, I would not blame you.”

Yet both accompanied them back. Jaune swore it in his heart that this would be but a minor setback. That somehow, he’d come up with a plan to get these people to see sense.

If they’d had someone from Balewood… if there’d been survivors… perhaps they could’ve told the world about the horror they’d endured.

But that was a pipe dream. None had survived the conflagration at Balewood.

If they had, then Jaune and his allies would’ve heard of them. For they’d visited enough villages now that a survivor or two, had they existed, would’ve turned up.

But no. Nothing.

So it was that, defeated, they trudged their way back to Oakenshire.

The village was welcoming when they returned, but judging by the expressions on their faces, they’d very much expected them to come back.

They’d not thought that they would succeed. Not thought that there was anything to be done.

To try and stand up to Caeser was hopeless. Or, perhaps more accurately, pointless.

Jaune laid down in his bed that night with naught but exhaustion hanging about him. His thoughts were pained, the faces of those from Balewood, burnt beyond recognition, still seared into his head.

/

King Caeser D’Arc, Chief amongst the Lords of Light, sat upon his throne within the halls of D’Arc. He had just finished a meeting with his advisors, and they had urged him to increase the tithe asked for by the kingdom. It was obvious that they simply wanted to line their coffers, but keeping them happy was also another of his duties.

He would consider it. At the moment, his mind was elsewhere, given that Salem’s birthday was coming up. He would need to figure out something to get her in secret, and that would require a trip out into the castle town, flanked by guards.

Ah, well, he could worry about such another time.

It was as he was preparing to take a well-deserved break that the door to the throne room opened, and one of his intelligence officers entered. The man knelt before him, and Caeser straightened his back before addressing him.

“Julius. What news do you bring?”

“One of our spies from Darsburg reported something interesting, sir.”

He had not heard the name of Darsburg before, or, if he had, then he had long since forgotten its importance. Still, he would hear Julius’ report.

“Go ahead.”

“According to her, your brother was sighted entering the village.” Caeser’s eyes widened. “Some who spoke with him directly reported that he was attempting to raise a force in order to act against your majesty. It seems he saw what had happened to Balewood.”

It was not a name that Caeser was familiar with. “Balewood?”

“A town that failed to meet the quota required of them. They were dealt with, and a notice was left within the village to any who might try and shirk their duties.”

“Ah. I see.” Caeser nodded along. “And my brother? Was that all?”

“No, sir. Many of the villages in and around that area also reported having seen him and a small entourage. It appears they’re trying to recruit a force, and they don’t seem keen on giving up such an endeavor.”

Caeser nodded his head, a small chuckle escaping past his lips.

“You’ve done well to bring this to me, Julius. I shall have the situation dealt with.”

“As you say, sir.” Julius stood, and made his way out from the throne room. Once the door had shut behind him, Caeser raised his right hand.

From out of the shadows, his head assassin, Savos, appeared as if from nowhere.

“Your majesty.” His voice was gravelly, yet it betrayed not a single hint of disloyalty.

“It seems my brother wishes to act against me. I must have been too kind with him, then. That, or I allowed him to think he could ever have a chance of rising up against me. I wish this problem nipped in the bud, and with all due haste.”

“Yes sir. How shall we go about this?”

“I say that we eliminate this problem in the most efficient way possible. A single village won’t be missed, and I do believe we know exactly where he’s gone, don’t we? The village he calls home… what was it called?”

It took him a moment, but eventually, the information came.

“Ah, yes…” He hummed darkly.

“Oakenshire.”

Chapter Text

It had been a few weeks since their failed attempt to gather an army, and take the fight to Caeser, yet even still, Jaune was not yet feeling back up to one hundred percent.

He felt defeated; like a shell of his former self. The things he’d seen in Balewood continued to plague his thoughts, to the point that Archibald often had to call out to him while they were working in the fields to keep him steady and present. It was just…

He couldn’t stop seeing those screaming faces, frozen in time, charred to the point of unrecognizability.

He felt bad that he wasn’t putting in quality work, in truth. Archibald wasn’t the type to call him out on it; likely because he could tell that there was something eating at Jaune. That day, as he passed Archibald on his way to the horse’s stable, the man placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place.

“Jaune. Spare a moment?”

He led them to a quiet spot in the barn nearby, where no one would disturb them, and then…

He got the full story out of Jaune. Unabridged, uncensored.

Archibald’s expression wasn’t one of shock or surprise. It was… resignment.

“The world is a cruel place, you’ll find.”

“That cruel?” Jaune asked, knowing the answer.

“Worse.” Archibald sighed. “It can be much worse.”

They sat in silence a while after that. It took a few minutes before either of them spoke again. It was Archibald, in the end.

“Tell me, boy, what do you plan on doing with your brother? When you catch him, let’s say.”

Jaune thought on that question for a long while. “I’d… like to say I would imprison him. Have him charged for his crimes. But I’m not sure that will be an option if I have an army at my back hungry for revenge. I may end up having no choice but to kill him.”

“Aye. You likely wouldn’t have a choice, no. What the man’s done… what has happened on his orders… well, he deserves it, that’s the truth. But make no mistake, Jaune. Killing is only ever that; killing. It can be done for a reason, and hell, often is… but that does not make it right. Occasionally necessary. But never right. It must always be a last resort. When all else fails.”

“…I hear you.”

“I’m glad.” Archibald’s nose crinkled, and he ran a hand down his face. “Talk to me, if you feel like this again. I’ll hear you out.”

The rest of the day was not quite spent in peace, but it was certainly the most serene state that Jaune had been in since… well, since before he’d so much as heard the name of Balewood from out of Archie’s mouth that day.

That night, he laid down to rest like it was any other evening. In the morning, he would wake with the cock’s crow, and he would tend to the fields. He would put in more work, because he had been gone for weeks this spring, and they had much less time to make up for it. He owed Archibald more than this, but he would do as much as possible.

And yet, when Jaune awoke, it was not with the crow of a rooster at dawn. Instead…

It was at the sound of a shrill scream, echoing through the night.

Instantly, his instincts had him throwing off the covers of his blanket, and launching himself from out of his straw bed. He shucked on a coat that would cover him, and then emerged outside, to see just what had happened.

And…

The world was aflame.

His eyes were wide, and his gait was slow. He was far too shocked to truly take in the hellish sights before him. He saw people he knew running for their lives. He saw people he knew shot in the back with crossbow bolts. He saw people he knew struck with powerful magics. He saw people he knew falling victim to the flames that licked at everything about the area.

He was rooted to the spot. It was not until a voice called out his name that he was brought from out of his own head.

“Jaune!”

It was Eleanor. She was bleeding along her right side, grasping onto it. It didn’t look too deep a wound, but even so, she was hobbled.

“What’s happening!?” He finally found the energy to shout back.

“It’s the kingdoms forces!” She told him, wincing as she took the final step, closing the distance between them and nearly falling.

Jaune caught her before she could, helping her to stand.

“They must have figured out what you were trying to do, they… they’re attacking everyone! Brendan, he… he was walking along with me at the edge of the walls, we heard the guard call for someone to halt, and then…” She gritted her teeth as tears poured down her face. “The guard was obliterated. Brendan, he pushed me, urged me to go, tried to hold them…”

What had happened was clear.

Brendan, one of those who’d come with Jaune because of his words, who’d genuinely believed in him and his cause, had been killed. Just like that, mere weeks after coming here on a whim to try and make the Lands of Light a better place.

That was the fate he’d earned by trying to do right by the world.

No… no. He could feel these emotions later. For right now, they needed to save as many people as they could. No, more than that; he had to fight back against the invaders assaulting the people of this village. His people!

“Make your way to the edge of the village. I’m going to try and hold them off.”

“What!? No! You don’t understand! There are a thousand, at least! I saw them, coming over the hill, we… our only hope is to run!”

It was a decent idea in theory. Run the other way. But Jaune had doubts. His brother was thorough. There had been no survivors in Balewood. If there had been a single hole in the line, then at least some would have escaped.

But…

Sure enough, a blaze was kicked up at the back of the village as well. The trees were suddenly set ablaze. Screams emanated from the area, which told him that those who’d tried to run that way had quickly been caught, and…

Jaune shook his head. He could only pray some would make it past.

Yet from out of the forests came soldiers clad in the gleaming white and gold of the Kingdom of D’Arc.

How horrid it was to see such splendor now. How utterly miserable.

“I’m going to face them.”

“No!”

“I can’t just let them burn my village to–”

“JAUNE!” Eleanor squealed his name, so desperate and effectual that Jaune was forced to regard her fully. “Please! I know you have your pride, but… I’m not going to watch someone else die! Please! PLEASE!”

She begged him. Would have gotten on her hands and knees had not the earth beneath them been set afire. Jaune…

He wanted so badly to resist. Wanted so badly to fight.

But Eleanor… if she tried to survive on her own, or even if she accompanied him…

She would certainly perish.

…

It hurt him, to think of leaving some people behind.

But if he were to try and gather as many as he could…

He bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, but in the end, he made up his mind.

“Fine!” He shouted. “We’ll make our way through the village and attempt to gather as many people as we can. Once we think we can take no more, we’ll find the weakest spot in their defenses, and push through!”

Eleanor looked relieved, grateful, and disgusted all at once. The thought of abandoning people did not leave her feeling any better than it did him. But she had seen Brendan killed so very easily, like he was nothing.

Jaune had seen the two of them look at one another. It had not been his business, and so he had not questioned either of them. They’d only just met, but…

There’d been something growing there. It explained why Eleanor was so despondent.

He shook those thoughts from his head. They could hold a funeral for Brendan once they’d made their way out of this village. Once they’d escaped.

“Let’s go!”

Before anything, he checked for Archibald, and the other farm hands. Yet, when he went to find them, he saw the barn empty, and the other sleeping areas barren as well. Clearly, they’d already attempted to make their escape.

Jaune would simply have to hope they’d succeeded.

Jaune led Eleanor into the village, ducking through the fields of wheat and other grains that had already begun to burn. The smoke pained Jaune’s lungs, but it also disguised them, kept them hidden as they snaked through the otherwise flat field.

They came out the other side and rushed into the village proper. By the time they made it there, nearly every home was on fire. He heard screams, however; shrill, vacant cries, and he knew that some were still alive within.

He pushed his way into a nearby clearing, towards where the blacksmith’s home was. There were two guards outside, and while Eleanor had been against him fighting them straight up…

Well, he doubted she’d begrudge him this.

Their backs were turned to him, and so they did not so much as see him as he closed the distance between them, and then, sparking electricity in his palms, held it against their metal armors.

They had but a moment to cry out in agony before their internal organs burst within them; the lightning too fierce for their bodies to contend with. They both fell to the ground, dead, and Jaune pushed past them, towards the one of his fellow farmhand’s homes.

“RAYMOND!” Jaune cried, pounding on the wooden door. “ARE YOU IN THERE!?”

There was no response. Nothing at all. He cast a spell that would blast open the door, and it succeeded, but when it did…

It weakened the home too much, and the entire thing came crashing down. Dust and debris were kicked up, and Jaune found himself coughing on it as he backed away.

Raymond, his wife, Mede, their two sons…

They were likely all dead.

Jaune let loose a pained breath, even as he turned back to Eleanor, and motioned for her to follow once again.

In truth, they could not afford to dawdle long. The longer they waited, the more likely that the village would be overrun entirely with enemies.

They had to go. They had to.

Yet they’d found no one…

He swore below his breath, even as he cast a haste magic upon the two of them, and pulled Eleanor along, towards the edge of the tree line.

His magics had never been terribly strong. The haste spell he cast made them faster, but not by much. Even so, it was enough to avoid a dozen or so guards, and though one spotted them, Jaune thought that as long as they kept moving, it wouldn’t matter.

“We’re almost there!” He cried to Eleanor, who kept up with him, but panted horribly. “Keep going!”

It was another five or so minutes before they thought they’d cleared the final lines of people. They hid behind bushes, pushed their way past people, and Jaune even used a technique to push forth a particularly heavy branch straight through the body of a soldier blocking their path.

The man was killed before he so much as knew what hit them.

They were home free. At least, so it seemed. Jaune stood, turned back to Eleanor, and was about to tell her to get in front of him. That he’d walk behind, and secure their escape.

“Eleanor, you–”

And then the shaft of a crossbow bolt buried itself into the side of Eleanor’s head.

Her entire body went slack, like a puppet with its strings cut. She clattered to the forest floor.

Jaune just… stared. Looked down at the blood sinking into the dirt, at the corpse that had, just moments prior, been his friend.

…

..

.

..

…

And then something within him just broke.

He thought he screamed. Likely, he did. His entire world was swallowed in black, and everything went monochrome. The stars in the sky went dark, and the fires in the distance glowed purest white, like freshly fallen snow.

The guard holding the crossbow that had taken her life… he didn’t have time to move. Jaune gripped him by the throat and set him ablaze with dark fire; relished in the way that he writhed and shrieked in agony. He was dead too soon, far too soon, but there were more.

He could make them pay that man’s toll.

He was inside the village. Some part of him catalogued the amount of energy it had taken him to warp from the forest outside the village back inside of it, right in the middle, north of Archibald’s field, but it did not matter to him. Not truly.

His magic felt unending. For the first time in his life, he felt strong.

It didn’t mean a thing. Nothing did. They were taking everything. His home, his people. His friends.

But they would still pay.

He saw so many faces he knew, already lifeless. Some were burnt to a crisp. Others were in the process of burning. Jaune took those fires, and gathered them in his hands. He wasn’t quite sure how. He didn’t quite care how.

He snapped out with a bolt of dark lightning, catching three soldiers and frying them in their suits. An entire group of them, three or so dozen, turned towards him, but he liquified the ground under their feet, turning it into a poisonous swamp. They were buried to their necks within seconds, and then he hardened the ground once more, crushing them.

A crossbow bolt struck the back of his neck, but it was evaporated by a heavy shield of dark energy rapidly encircling him. His vision was darkening, and his chest had begun to hurt. He didn’t care. He refused to care.

The village had been slaughtered. He would slaughter those responsible in turn.

He shot out black flame at the man who’d fired at him, but watched as he was shielded from the blast by another of the soldiers of D’Arc. Jaune snarled, whipping out with energy coalescing in a whip-like form. It struck the two and launched them back.

More soldiers took their place. So many.

Jaune fought. For how long, he did not know. But eventually, the pain in his chest was severe. Almost too severe for him to keep his eyes open. Idly, he realized that he was burning away at the basin of magic within him. That he was burning away at his very self; his very essence.

But even so… even so–

Magic struck him hard, and he was forced to the ground. The wind was knocked out of him, and the energy that had been gathering around him, swirling about, shielding him, faded entirely.

He was helpless. Entirely spent. Everything hurt, and he felt like he had but moments before he was killed. He looked up, into the eyes of the soldiers of D’Arc; who were once his people.

Somehow, despite everything they’d done, they still looked human.

They were monsters. He did not care for appearances.

He heard one of them say something, but it went in one ear and out another. He shut his eyes, prepared to face his fate. He cursed his brother, and everyone here…

But then an explosion rocked the formation just before him. He opened his eyes, saw that a good fifteen soldiers had been knocked out of the way–

And then a hand took him by the wrist, and pulled hard enough that he felt his shoulder creak. Even so, he was in motion, and sooner rather than later, found himself slung onto the back of a galloping steed.

The person who’d rescued him…

It was Archibald, on Delilah’s back.

“ARCHIE!?”

“The hell you doin’ boy!?” He growled at him. “I thought you’d’ve learned from the last time those goons came by not to jump the gun, but apparently you’re still the same idiot you were then!”

He was lashing out. Likely, he’d only been worried for Jaune. He knew that, but it still hurt.

“Kill them!” He heard a cry.

“The horse! Down the horse!”

Arrows were fired. Bolts were loosed. Magic was unleashed. Yet Delilah, somehow, remained unbowed.

“I’ve got a protection spell on Delilah.” Archibald said like it was the simplest thing in the world. Jaune knew for a fact that that was a horrendously powerful spell. He’d never have guessed that Archibald could command such strength… “If she goes down, we’re both doomed. If you’ve got one, layer yer’ own atop!”

He did just that, layering a protection spell of his own – a simple deflection of projectiles, far less powerful than Archibald’s – on Delilah’s skin. It would be enough to deflect an arrow or crossbow bolt, albeit a magic spell might still pierce through.

He would simply have to hope the soldiers they’d run into weren’t as experienced in such things.

They dashed through the enemy formation, and Archibald used magic he’d never shown the capability for in knocking the men of the Kingdom of D’Arc out of their way. He was… he was far more skilled than Jaune had ever seen anyone to be in the countryside. He would’ve likely been a powerful mage if he’d served in their Kingdom’s army.

Why had he never shown such capabilities before? Why had he not stepped up with Jaune that day, and fought back against these people? Why was he a simple farmer, a leader of a small, no-name town in the middle of nowhere?

“They’re shielding the horse! Aim for the riders! The riders!”

The cry came from behind them, even as a bolt struck against a tree just to the left of them. Jaune swallowed, his nerves shot. He’d thought himself dead before, had done his best to make his peace with that, but now…

Now he had the chance to live again.

He wanted to.

And then, of course, two guards appeared in the middle distance, as if from nowhere. Evidently, they were the final line of defense, to kill any stragglers the other soldiers might have missed. They held crossbows, and aimed them right for the two of them; Archibald and Jaune both.

“Shit!” Archie cried.

And yet, despite everything, Archibald still pushed Jaune back, keeping him behind him.

Jaune heard the sound of bolts being loosed from crossbows, felt the way that Archibald’s body was shoved back against him, but even so, they galloped right past the final two guards.

Jaune heard them swear, and try to reload their weapons, but Delilah had already carried them more than far enough away.

They were out. They’d escaped Oakenshire.

…

They were likely the only two survivors.

…

His mind caught up to what had happened, and he pushed himself up on the saddle, trying to get a look at Archie.

“Archie!”

“Hah…” The man huffed out a laugh, but it was… weak. “All this time, a hundred battles… and that’s what gets me? Fuck…”

Jaune finally got a good enough angle to see what had happened, and when he did, his blood ran cold.

Two bolts jutted out of Archibald’s abdomen. One through the right side of his chest, and the other dead center in his stomach.

They were…

“Archie!” He cried. Already trying to formulate some kind of plan. “Hold on, I’ll try and–”

“Quiet boy.” Archibald ordered him. “Don’t shout. Don’t give them any more chance of tracking us. Keep silent, and keep riding. When I go, drop my body off the side and leave me where I fall. Ride until Delilah can’t carry you any farther.”

He refused. He wasn’t going to allow Archibald to die. He’d been unable to save anyone else. Everyone else had perished, but Archie, at least…

He had to save him. He had to.

But Archibald just grabbed his wrist as he tried to reach for the arrows.

“Leave them. I’ve something to say. And I’ll bleed out quicker if you remove ‘em.”

“Archie–”

“Did I ever tell you I’m from the Lands of Sand?”

“What!?” Jaune looked to the man. “Save your strength, Archibald!”

“I was a member of the army there. For… fifteen years.” Archibald shook his head. “I believed in things like justice, honor, valor… eventually, I was shown the error of my ways. I learned that even striking down an enemy soldier in the heat of battle, something no warrior could be blamed for, left me feeling hollow and empty inside. If you ask me…”

He looked to Jaune, and in his eyes could Jaune see the weight of those years, of those battles, of those deeds.

“That hollowness you feel when something like what happened to Balewood, like what happened to us, occurs… that’s a sign you’re a good man. Hold on to it. Don’t let go of it. Even if it hurts. Because sometimes, that pain… that horror, that agony… it’s what holds you back. Prevents you from makin’ a mistake that you–” Archie hacked up a cough, and blood splattered onto Delilah’s saddle. “That you can never take back.”

“So… if you’ve not heard anything from me at all; anything, then hear this. Don’t end up an old man full of regrets, Jaune. Take it from one; it’s no way to live.”

He wasn’t even sure what to say. His voice wasn’t coming. After everything… after everything Archibald had done for him, he couldn’t so much as help him.

“Tell them.” Archibald’s voice was growing weaker. “Tell them what happened here. The peoples of the Lands of Light. Of the Kingdom of D’Arc. And do not let them shy away from the truth, no matter how badly they wish to. Promise me this; that you will not give up.”

Jaune found his voice, even as tears spilt down his face.

“I’ll show them.” He swore. “I’ll make them understand.”

“Good.” Archibald’s breaths were weak, his body slumping in front of Jaune’s as Delilah continued galloping along, the scent of smoke gradually fading away. “Good. Keep that… that fire in your eyes. Don’t lose it… not even when you’re king. Remember what people will try to do… when there’s… money or power to be taken. Don’t… fall like him… like Caeser…”

Archie slumped, and though Jaune tried to hold him up…

“Be… a good… king…”

The man’s body stilled entirely.

“Archie! Archie!”

But it was too late. Archibald of Oakenshire had passed. His eyes, milky, vacant, stared off into nothingness. In the next moment, as Delilah maneuvered around a particularly bumpy section of earth, the body in Jaune’s arms shifted rapidly.

And Archibald slumped off the side, falling to the earth below. The sound was sickening, but even so, in nary a moment, the corpse was too far for Jaune to even consider going back for.

Jaune bit down hard on his bottom lip, only just beginning to scab over from earlier. He… he remembered what Archie had told him. To let him fall off; to not weigh Delilah down.

…

Damnit!

And so, regardless of how his mentor would decompose in the middle of a forest, his resting place never known to anyone, Jaune rode on. He rode, and would continue riding, just as Archie had told him.

But what struck him most of all was the fact of the matter. That which had not been true in a year and a half.

Once more, Jaune D’Arc was alone.

Chapter Text

Jaune stopped riding only after Delilah had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could no longer continue. She breathed hard, and her head hung low. The lack of energy was apparent in every action.

Jaune must’ve looked much the same.

He got lucky in that they stopped only a few hundred paces from a crick, which snaked through the forests beyond Oakenshire. They were nearly half a day removed from the village, and yet to Jaune, it was like he could still feel the heat of the fires against his back; hear the screams of his fellows, see the life leave their eyes…

He clenched his jaw hard enough that he wondered if his teeth might crack down the middle.

He got water enough for both himself and Delilah, and then brought it back to his steed. She drank greedily, and Jaune did much the same. He hadn’t realized how little energy he possessed until that moment, as he drank two full tankards without so much as a break to breathe.

He pulled it away from his lips, and, with a sudden burst of anger, chucked the tankard against a nearby tree. It clanked uselessly to the ground, and Jaune had to walk over, pick it up, and then go over and clean it in the stream.

Even so, it had felt good for a moment to unleash some of the raw, unknowable fury lurking within him.

He was… very much fading, at that point.

They were all dead. Everyone.

He’d lost his home for the second time. First, it had been the castle, and now, he’d lost Oakenshire. Again, his people had been stolen from him. And again, it had been his brother’s fault.

Caeser…

Jaune’s fists tightened into white-knuckled balls, and he had to manually prevent himself from doing something stupid like punching a tree and breaking his hand. He could waste some of his basin casting a barrier magic on himself, but what would be the point of that? He had to conserve his strength.

He was alone. Alone in the middle of nowhere, with nothing.

And now… now what was he supposed to do?

“Tell them. Tell them what happened here. The peoples of the Lands of Light. Of the Kingdom of D’Arc. And do not let them shy away from the truth, no matter how badly they wish to. Promise me this; that you will not give up.”

“I’ll show them. I’ll make them understand.”

…That was it, wasn’t it? That was all Jaune had. He had to try and convince the peoples of the Lands of Light that the Kingdom of D’Arc needed to be reformed. That a revolution was upon them.

Whether they liked it nor not.

And they very much didn’t like it. That was clear. As they’d roamed about trying to drum up such a thing before, they’d found themselves rebuffed at near every turn. They’d recruited a scant few people amongst the thousands they’d seen.

Most were content to stick their heads in the sand as long as the situation wasn’t directly affecting them. And Jaune…

The very thought of that infuriated him to no end.

He would not let them turn away.

He refused to.

/

The journey to Makersbridge was not a short one. For one, he hadn’t truly known where it was that he’d ended up when he’d stopped to allow Delilah and himself a moment of rest, having fled from Oakenshire’s burning remains. He’d had to reorient himself first and foremost, and only then start for the closest of the towns.

He was starving by that time. There wasn’t any food to put in himself, and only water to drink. His vision blurred by the time he spotted civilization. He had great need of something to eat.

The place he ended up was Makersbridge, and he hoped they would have food.

Yet his mind strayed. Not to food, but to this place.

This was where they’d recruited Eleanor. Where he’d met her. She’d been so full of hope. So happy to contribute, to try and make a difference in the world. And what had it gotten her?

Killed. Her body burned until it was likely utterly unrecognizable.

He walked into Makersbridge, and found a town that was as he had last seen it. None of them knew that anything was the matter at all. None of them had a clue of the things that had been done so short a distance away.

He would make them understand.

“Halt!” The guards at the gate called out to him as he came up, handling Delilah by the bridle. She was fidgety – not that Jaune could at all blame her, after what they’d gone through – and was more than wary of these two new figures. He ran his hands through her mane, trying to calm her. “Who are ya’!?”

“I was here just a few moons or so ago. My name is Jaune D’Arc.”

They were evidently not paying much attention to his words, or to the name he’d given them. If they had been, they might have recognized the title belonging to the rulers of this very country.

“And where do ya’ hail from, Jaune D’Arc?”

“Oakenshire.”

“Ah.” The man nodded his head. “It’s good to see ya. We was beginnin’ to suspect somethin’ was the matter. Hadn’t heard hide nor hair from any of ya’ in a good few weeks.”

“Oakenshire was destroyed.”

The words poured out of him before he could think about the ramifications of uttering them. Truthfully, he took a sick sort of glee in watching the man’s face twist in shock, and then dismay. In the way that his partner looked to him like what he’d just said was entirely alien.

“What’s that you said!?” The other man asked him. “Destroyed!?”

“Razed by the men of the Kingdom of D’Arc.” Jaune spoke, unwilling to stay silent. “For the sole crime of my being present there. For having gone about the towns on the outskirts of the Lands of D’Arc and telling them the truth. Do you perhaps recall my visit, now?”

“You… came by a while back, yeah.” The man nodded his head.

“Well, my brother, Caeser D’Arc, did not take quite so kindly to my insinuating his need to be removed from the throne. In fact, he sought to have me killed. And in doing so, also send a message. He burned Oakenshire to the ground, gave no chance of any surviving the conflagration. And yet, I did. I alone was the sole survivor.”

He was talking to talk. It was therapeutic, in a way, to finally tell another soul what he’d seen.

“How long have you been travelling?” The other guard at the gate asked, looking Jaune up and down. “Ya’ don’t look good, sir.”

He almost wanted to laugh. “I have not stopped in what feels like an eternity. In reality… I have ridden on naught but water for at least a week, perhaps a fortnight full.”

The guards looked to one another. The one who Jaune had just spoken to seemed to be more in his favor, but the other…

He wore an expression of deep dissatisfaction as he turned back towards Jaune, and spoke.

“I hate to do this, but I can’t allow ya’ in.”

“What!?” The other guard turned. “Richard, what–”

“They’re huntin’ him!” The man named Richard turned to his partner. “They’ll be lookin’ to finish the job! They’ll come lookin’, I swear to ya’! If they took out Oakenshire over… over what, you bein’ there!? They’ll take us out, too, if we harbor ‘im here!”

“Even so–”

“No. I’m puttin’ me foot down.” Richard turned back towards him, and though he did not like it, Jaune saw that his decision was made. His heart was set. “I’m sorry, boy. You’d best keep ridin’.”

He had… not entirely expected this, but he had in a way been prepared for it. The last time he’d pranced about the villages, spouting the truth to them, he’d been all but thrown out. They’d informed him in no uncertain terms not to return, as well.

But even so, he could not stop. He’d promised Archibald.

And so, even if they wouldn’t let him in…

“My apologies for this.” Jaune said.

“Wha–”

Neither man had time to speak. Jaune had placed a wind spell between the two of them, one which flung them up into the air, on either side of the small brick bridge they stood upon, and into the crick below. It wasn’t a far drop, and he doubted they would be terribly slowed by Jaune’s magic.

But if it bought him a moment, it might be enough.

He rushed into town, although not before using magic to fasten Delilah in place just outside the gates. He ran inside, and tried to find a good place to speak from. Immediately, he spotted a central raised platform, which had a bell near it. Likely, it was used for important gatherings, things like mayoral speeches.

He would be using it himself.

He pushed past people of all ages and sizes, even as one of the guards – Richard, the less friendly one – called out for him to stop.

He would not. Could not.

They needed to hear. They needed to know the truth.

The world needed to know, but this was all he could do for now.

He took to the stage, casted a spell upon his vocal cords to amplify his voice’s power, rang the bell a few times, and then spoke.

“People of Makersbridge!”

He felt a bit bad for those who were stood just in front of him, for his voice was loud enough to carry to the very edges of the village, and they were taking it almost head on. It wasn’t enough to damage their hearing, but it probably hurt quite a bit.

“I came before you in times gone past with far less urgency than I do now.”

Richard was coming up on him – his fellow seemingly being left behind back in the crick – and Jaune realized that the man would, if given the opportunity, likely rip him off of the podium. He needed a spell to protect himself.

One came to mind. Normally, it was hardly ideal, given that it prevented his own offense as assuredly as it did an opponent’s…

But when he only had to speak, it would do.

He casted the magical cage around himself, which blocked all physical contact with the outside. He could not get out of it until he brought it down, either, but, assuredly, they could not get him to take it down until he either ran out of magic, or decided to of his own accord.

And he had no intention of speaking until his reserves were shot.  

“My name is Jaune D’Arc! Once, I was the prince of this land; second in line only to my brother, Caeser D’Arc! I’m sure you know of him quite well. I am sure you know of his actions and deeds. My own are likely far less noteworthy. I am but a disgraced farmer, now. I come from Oakenshire. And from there, I bear grim tidings; the village, and all of its inhabitants, have been burned to nothing.”

The faces of the people of Makersbridge twisted in confusion, and doubt. Some in anger, perhaps thinking that he was attempting to deceive them.

How much he wished that could be the case. That what he’d said could be simple deception.

Alas, it was not to be.

“Oakenshire was a peaceful village! Unlike Balewood, they did not fail to meet their quota, although such a thing should not need to be said at all. Even so, for the crime of harboring me, of giving me shelter, and a place to belong, they were razed to the ground; burned in their homes, set ablaze!”

“Wilt thou turn away!?” Jaune screamed, with a fervor unlike any he ever had, falling back on his old way of speaking. “Wilt thou turn back to thine houses, and thine homes, and continue trying to live day in and day out as thou have all this time; knowing thou art being thrown about by those in power!? Wilt thou allow them to tread upon thee!? To kill thee and thine for a single offense; at nothing more than a whim, if it pleases them!?”

Several, already, were turning away. Parents shooed away their children, or covered their ears. Meanwhile, merchants continued to sell their wares, choosing to ignore his words entirely.

Jaune could only stare in anger at the willful ignorance on display.

Did they think themselves exempt? That they would be fine?

That nothing would change, or grow worse? That it was fine to simply sit around and do nothing!?

“Will all of thee stand there and do nothing when they come for thee, too!?” He cried, rage clouding his judgement. “What will thou do when they set thine house ablaze! When it is thy children caught in the conflagration; what then!”

“Speak no more!” A voice suddenly shouted, old but with a sharp timbre. Jaune turned, and saw the mayor of the village, an old crone of a woman with a harsh brow, glaring over at him.

“We will not hear any more of your fanciful tales!” The woman scoffed. “Your lies will not fool us.”

Jaune was almost impressed at the sheer ability to deny the truth shown before him, but before he could grow too fevered with rage, he noticed the way that the mayor’s brow twinged with fear, and sorrow. That, and cowardice.

She knew he spoke the truth, but she wanted to hide away from it. To allow her people to live in blissful ignorance.

He had had enough of such things. He had lived that way for the vast majority of his life. A prince in a castle, his every want waited upon.

It was not something he was going to accept.

Just when Jaune went to rally, however, as he prepared to speak once more…

“Matron!” A voice suddenly shouted, coming towards them rapidly. Jaune wasn’t alone in turning towards the edge of town, where the guard from earlier came running, apparently having taken quite a while to pull himself out of the small crick below the bridge. “Kingdom guards! They’re coming up the path now!”

“What?” The woman remarked, seeming calm despite the guard’s panic. “Well, what’s the matter?”

“They’re armed, ma’am. More than I’ve ever seen them. Some of ‘em’ve still got blood on their tunics!”

Jaune paled, and he was not alone in that. This wasn’t just a normal contingent of soldiers, then.

This may very well have been a part of the force that had burned down Oakenshire, and slaughtered its people.

“You…” The matron turned to him. She took one look at Jaune before her lips peeled back, and she angrily spat, “Is this your doing!? Hm!?”

It evidently was. Or, well, not on purpose, of course. But the fact that he’d escaped from Oakenshire was likely the reason that the guards were coming at all. They needed to track him down, after all. He’d been the one they’d tried to catch.

If they failed to find him, they’d likely face his brother’s wrath.

And Jaune…

He looked around him, at the village, and its people, and he let out a breath of anger, surely…

But of exhaustion, most of all.

“Hark!” Screamed one of the bloody guards as they came fully into the village. He was followed by thirty or so soldiers, each of them clad in burnt regalia. It was clearly the same force who had assaulted Oakenshire. Unless they’d burnt down another village within the past few days or weeks. “We have come searching for one called Jaune D’Arc. If you house him, know that you will pay dearly for such–”

“Quiet down!” Jaune shouted out. His barrier fell, and he stepped forward, past the mayor, with her mouth agape, and past the single guard who’d been kind to Jaune before, his expression caught. “I will not hide. I have done that enough.”

“Ah. You match his description.” The soldier sneered. “Jaune D’Arc, then?”

“Indeed. Tis I.”

He came to a stop at the edge of the village, some few meters from the soldiers. None of them approached him, but that seemed to be more because they were underestimating him. Perhaps they thought he’d come quietly.

Hah. No. He’d fight and die before he ever gave himself over to them.

At least he could take a few of them with him.

“I will stand. And I will fight.” He assured them, and the soldiers stances tensed. “But tell them. Tell them of the crimes I have committed. For what reason dost thou put me to death?”

“Reason?” The soldier’s commander scoffed. “You have been a thorn in the side of the King for too long. Or that is what I have been told. It does not matter to me. We have been given a duty, and we shall fulfill it. Today, you will be expunged, and with you shall go the wrong you have inflicted.”

“Dost thou see?” Jaune called out, not turning to face the people of Makersbridge, but speaking to them, nonetheless. “Dost thou see how these people are!? They are all like this. All of a piece. They will not stop, either. They art who they art. And while their king yet rules, they will ever follow his orders; right or wrong.”

“Your words are as poisonous as your treacherous soul.” The soldier barked out, snarling. “I’ve heard enough. You will die here.”

He’d known that the moment he’d stepped out of the crowd, and decided to face his brother’s forces. He could not take on thirty soldiers. Such was obvious. But…

He would try. For no other reason than because he felt it the right thing to do. He would not force a village of people to die for the false sin of having harbored him.

He could only hope that the remaining soldiers, once he’d been slain, would leave these people in peace.

And yet, before the battle could begin…

The guard from before, who’d been kind to Jaune, ran out in front of him. He held his arms out, as if trying to shield Jaune from harm.

“What are you–” Jaune tried to speak, but the man, nay, the boy cut him off before he could.

“W-Wait!” The boy screamed out. He was nervous, quaking in his boots, but even so, he did not falter. “He didn’t do nothin’! He came and asked for food and water, and only–”

“Silence!” The soldier from earlier stepped forward, drawing a blade from his belt. “I see now that you have been infected by his traitorous rhetoric.”

“I-I’m not–”

Jaune was moving, trying to prevent what was about to happen before it did. But he was too slow. Had realized too late what the soldier would do.

The man swung, and the guard who’d been nothing but kind to Jaune, who’d wanted to let him in, regardless of who he was, was sent tumbling to the floor, a gaping, gushing wound on his chest.

People screamed. All around him, the village of Makersbridge came to life with anger, and sorrow, and fear most of all. Several people ran. Perhaps thinking to escape any such retribution early. Given that Jaune doubted the village was dealing with the same number of forces that Oakenshire had, they’d likely make it, too.

But Jaune…

He was far too disgusted, too furious, to ever think of running.

He allowed magic to gather in his hands, and he dashed forward.

The commander of the soldiers didn’t see him coming, but unfortunately for Jaune, two of the others did. Jaune had never been the most adept mage, and even the most mediocre of those accepted into the Kingdom’s army as mages were more skilled than he. He attempted to battle them, however briefly, as the two blitzed in front of him.

But hunger weighed on him. He was even weaker than normal.

One of them fought with thunderous lightning, arcing about his body. The other glowed with a primal flame, which was channeled at Jaune.

Jaune, meanwhile, took from out of his basin the darkness that he’d relied upon back in Oakenshire. It came easy, without much prodding from him. It was the only magic he’d ever experienced that left him feeling as such.

He shot dark fire out of his hands, aiming not for the two mages, but for the bundle of soldiers behind them. It hit them, and sent some of them reeling back in panic, even as the mages converged on Jaune. He tried to duel them, and did succeed in injuring one, but the other shot a bolt of lightning that snaked out, and struck Jaune directly in the shoulder.

It hit hard, causing him to yell out in agony as his entire body shook outside of his control. The fire mage followed up, managing to dismiss Jaune’s fire in time to hit him with a fireball of his own, which struck Jaune center mass.

The flames licked at his skin, burning away at him as they had Oakenshire. He was sent spiraling backwards, impacting against the ground hard. The wind was knocked out of him, and though he could hear the screams of some of the armed men of the Kingdom, he knew for a fact that he’d not taken many down with him.

The mages made way for their commander, the same man who’d swung at the guard of this very village. The man sneered, drawing a pike from off of his back and angling it down at Jaune’s chest.

He was… not at peace, truly, but the fight had left him. He’d seen so much death, so many horrible things, that he lacked the wherewithal to get up and fight. To struggle, and battle back with every fiber of his being.

So, he met the commander’s eyes, with a glare in his own, and resolved to not give him any satisfaction.

The man sneered regardless.

“You’ve certainly led us on a merry chase. Regardless, this is the end. Goodbye, Jaune of–”

And then an arrow sunk its way into the man’s windpipe.

/

“Weiss!” A voice suddenly called out to her, snapping her out of the headspace she’d been in for the last… it felt like several weeks spent listening to Jaune tell his story. “You’ve gotta’ come see this!”

“Can it wait!?” She loudly complained. “Things were just getting good!”

“I’m glad the stories of some of the hardest days of my life… entertain you?” Jaune questioned, and Weiss did, at least, have the wherewithal to feel the slightest bit bad about that.

“Yeah, uh, no.” Jasmine shook her head. “It can’t really wait.”

Jasmine looked concerned, and Weiss… well, she was able to separate how badly she wanted to hear the rest of Jaune’s story with her knowledge that there were other things that mattered in the world.

So, with a resounding sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, took up Jaune’s mirror, and followed Jasmine out of the room.

They didn’t end up going very far.

Jasmine led her to a room overlooking the city of Mantle. Many people were crowded around the few windows on the opposite wall. Robyn was there. Cinder was there. The Happy Huntresses and even Cheshire, who Weiss hadn’t seen in a while, were there.

“What’s going on?” She questioned.

“Come see for yourself.” May gestured for her to approach, and so Weiss did.

And what she saw…

Above them were what looked to be a good hundred bullheads, all of them swarming down from Atlas up above.

“Citizens of Mantle,” An announcement blared from the multiple electronic screens all around Mantle, showing General Ironwood’s face. “Please remain calm. Dangerous elements are at work within the city. In an effort to combat them, we are placing Mantle under a state of Martial Law. Please cooperate with law enforcement in order to root out the dark forces lurking among us.”

Cheshire wheezed, falling to the ground and into a coughing fit.

Everyone else found this much less funny.

“That…” Weiss muttered. “Is very bad.”

“Yes.” Jaune agreed.

“That is indeed very bad.”

Chapter Text

In Ruby’s opinion, Mantle was really turning out to be a lot worse than she’d thought it was going to be.

The streets were raw chaos. There were people of all ages, nationalities, and races seemingly at war with one another, claiming bits and pieces of territory like their lives depended on it. It was a lawless zone; a land of anarchy.

Now, did that have something to do with the fact that Jacques Schnee had made it rather clear that his daughter was in Mantle, and that he would pay anyone a sum so vast that they would be able to retire to a life of luxury if they were able to find and apprehend her? Yes. Yes, it did.

Did that mean Ruby had to forgive Mantle for all its faults? In her opinion, no.

“I hate it here.” She grumbled as she finally slipped out of her shoes, and collapsed down onto a crappy hotel bed. “Why does it have to suck?”

Yang laughed. “Yeah, can’t say I’m a huge fan, either.”

“I just… is it really too much to ask for a break?” Ruby voiced her complaint into her pillow. “Like… even a small one?”

“Apparently so.”

She looked over at her sister curiously. “Hey, so, not to sound ungrateful, but…why are you here?”

“What?”

“I mean… why aren’t you staying with Blake in her room?” She asked, and her sister’s face went red. “I just figured you’d prefer her as company.”

“Ah, well…” Yang coughed into one hand. “Now’s not the time for that kind of stuff. There are more serious matters–”

“You just wanted a place to put your stuff, didn’t you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ruby could only really groan.

Come twenty minutes later, after Yang had loaded her meagre belongings – really just the contents of a backpack – into the shelves around the room, she exited out, and made her way over to Blake’s room.

Ruby wasn’t jealous that Yang had someone special to her, per se. She also wasn’t jealous that she had feelings for her partner, someone she’d learned to fight alongside for years now. Ruby, after all, didn’t have such feelings for Weiss. But she did still love her partner in a different way, and would’ve rather been spending time with her as well, instead of stuck in this crappy hotel room all alone.

Thinking about Weiss of course had her thinking about Jasmine, which had her thinking about Pyrrha, which… actually, maybe that was a can of worms she didn’t feel like opening tonight. Mostly because it was depressing.

Pyrrha had been getting… not necessarily better since they’d gotten down here to Mantle, but she was more active than she had been; participating in conversations and wanting to talk to everyone.

Probably because she had hope they’d run into Jasmine soon.

…Well, Ruby was exhausted anyhow. She should probably just get some rest.

This rest lasted roughly an hour and a half. Not nearly long enough.

Unfortunately, Ruby was awoken by the sounds of an explosion outside, followed quickly by angered shouting. She oozed out of bed, made it to her window, and peered out of it to see a bunch of civilians throwing what appeared to be makeshift explosives at each other.

Ah. Awesome. Terrorism in the streets.

Just what Ruby needed.

By the time she had suited up and gotten out there, the problem had already been dealt with. Adam, and the bunch of White Fang that had come with him, mopped up the people who’d brought actual explosives to use on other groups of searchers. Together, they were escorting the group to a nearby police station, who were probably more than busy enough without people actively throwing around IED’s.

Ruby, who very much still needed more sleep, sort of hoped that would be the last thing they’d need to do for a while.

Of course, after that, an armored truck with no less than fifteen people riding inside of it, hanging off of it, or laying atop it, ran right past the intersection their hotel was on, and proceeded to crash right into a building maybe a block away.

Ruby wondered what she had done in a past life to deserve this.

Something had to give. That was the thing that was most clear to Ruby as they made their way over to the scene of the crash. People were getting themselves, and others, killed with these idiotic stunts. It was clear that whoever had been driving that armored truck before probably had zero experience doing so in a scenario like this one. Where the streets were congested, and full of obstacles.

Some of the people who’d been in that very truck had been killed on impact, and nearly all of those that survived were down on the ground, with what looked to be crippling injuries. It wasn’t pretty, and Qrow – who must’ve arrived while Ruby was thinking about falling asleep standing up – grimaced as he helped to get a few of the ones in more critical condition onto stretchers so that they could be taken to the hospital.

In terms of actually getting them to a hospital, when the nearest one was several blocks away, well… they were in a rather precarious position on that matter, mostly down to the fact that ambulances had been few and far between down in Mantle before all of this chaos had started.

“That bastard, Jacques Schnee.” Adam growled out as he shut the eyes of a man no older than twenty-five, who’d been thrown from off of the truck and into the building they’d hit at speed. “He knew something like this would happen, but I doubt he so much as hesitated to order this. If I thought he was truly worried for his daughter, I might have some form of empathy for the man, but given what Weiss has told me of him…”

Ruby couldn’t really disagree with Adam’s assessment, even if it still felt weird to agree with Adam on… just about anything.

Unfortunately for Ruby, they couldn’t go straight back to the hotel after that. There were people to be helped, quite a few of them who had no interest in getting involved with this whole ‘Weiss Schnee Capture-athon’ thing.

That was mostly who they focused on; people who just wanted to live their lives like normal. They did their best to disperse some of the rowdier gangs of searchers, but in the end, there were simply too many.

When they returned to their hotel later that night, the journey was done with a sense of relative unease. Ruby felt horrible seeing so many people hurt, and worse. Even if she didn’t think it was her fault that it had happened…

No. She had to think about this logically. She had to get out of her own head. That wasn’t going to help her.

This wasn’t on them. It wasn’t on Weiss, either. It was on Jacques Schnee.

Ruby made it back to her room, and sat atop her bed for the next few minutes. She eventually felt the adrenaline that had been pumping through her to keep her awake for the last few hours begin to fade away, and laid her head down. She needed sleep, especially given that she would, inevitably, be woken up by something completely stupid.

That happened about five minutes later, regrettably.

“Oh, what is it now!?” She screamed out, well and truly done. “Unless the sky is falling, or the Grimm are here, or Atlas is attacking to try and take Weiss back themselves, then frankly, I–”

The door to Ruby’s room shot open.

“Ruby!” Yang shouted at her. “Atlas is attacking to try and take Weiss back themselves!”

Ruby let out a rather unholy screech.

/

Weiss was really starting to wish she could’ve lived in uninteresting times.

Would that have been so hard? Let her be born, grow up, maybe have a family, grow old, and then die without anything in particular occurring. But noooo. The world just had to spring some ancient demon king from the dawn of time on her because, apparently, the Gods hated her.

“Ironwood’s here. He’s brought damn-near half an army down to Mantle.” Robyn snarled below her breath. “Given he’s not so much as stuck a toe in the proverbial pool for months now, this attack says to me that he’s trying to do this quickly and efficiently. Get in, use as much manpower as he can to guarantee they succeed in short order, and get out before anything can go awry back on the home front.”

“No points on guessing who they’re after.” May deadpanned, and the entire room turned towards Weiss, who had Jaune’s mirror slung along her back.

“Are they looking at us?” Jaune asked, his mirror pointed away from Weiss’ back.

“Yes, Jaune.” She sighed. “They’re looking at us.”

“Are you planning on ratting us out?” Cinder questioned, already reaching for her weapons.

“No, we’re not.” Robyn assured them. “Frankly, I don’t much care for Ironwood, so I wouldn’t be turning you in for that reason alone. But past that, I get the feeling you all could kick our asses, so that’s another reason I’m not about to go turning you in.”

Honestly, Cinder on her own could probably take the Happy Huntresses. Adding the rest of them on top of that was just overkill.

Cinder looked disappointed that she wasn’t going to get the chance to crack any heads, however.

“In exchange, however,” Robyn cleared her throat. “I need you all to assist me in keeping the peace here in Mantle. Entire gangs are beginning to form around this stupid Weiss Schnee capture contest. Worse, they’re getting senseless enough that they might legitimately think they can compete against the Atlas Military.”

“Which would be bad, given they very much cannot.” Joanna rasped out. “If this goes on any longer, hundreds, maybe thousands of people are going to get themselves killed. And we’d like to avoid that.”

Weiss could already feel a headache coming on. That was mostly because she was pretty sure she didn’t exactly have any choice in terms of saying ‘no’ to this. Robyn and the other Happy Huntresses were keeping them somewhere safe, providing for their food, water, electricity…

Was it really too much to ask for them to help out in keeping the people of Mantle safe?

No. It really wasn’t.

Cinder, of course, looked like she’d just been asked to kill a puppy – actually, scratch that, Cinder would probably love killing puppies – whereas Cheshire was, as usual, looking happy to be there.

“Fine.” Weiss eventually nodded her head. “We’ll go with you. Though, should I perhaps stay behind, given my face is one that probably shouldn’t be seen out and about?”

No one seemed to have considered that. Weiss wasn’t entirely sure how that was possible, given that seemed like a pretty obvious concern to bring up.

Fiona, the very sweet and very nice sheep faunus, raised a hand somewhat nervously.

“U-Uhm… I have an idea?”

Weiss felt a strange chill run down her spine.

For some reason, she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like this.

/

“Hold her down!”

“I’m trying! She’s biting!”

“Get off of me! Damnit, Jaune, help me!”

“I cannot. This is, unfortunately for thee, absolutely hilarious.”

“Thank you for NOTHING!”

Minutes passed as Weiss struggled against the inevitable. She bit, and clawed, and punched, and kicked. She fought until blood spilled upon the tile beneath her. She was not willing to go down without a fight. She refused.

…Unfortunately, her refusal did not mean that such wasn’t going to happen.

There was a cold sensation, a pinching along Weiss’ scalp, and then it was done. She scowled at the offending people – the Happy Huntresses, who were, at the moment, looking like the Haggard Huntresses – as she sat up, and looked over at herself in the mirror.

Oh, gods, but it was horrid.

Her white hair – a symbol of her status as a Schnee, and something she’d always taken great pride in – had been forever tarnished.

…Okay, sure, it was a two-week hair dye, but it was black! Her hair looked like it had been covered in ash and soot, and they’d even applied enough foundation over her scar to make her look like… like some jane doe!

She understood that that was the intention, but Weiss didn’t have to be pleased about it!

“Well…” Robyn panted as she leaned against the opposite wall of the bathroom. “That was like bathing my dog…”

Weiss leveled a glare at Robyn that would’ve killed a lesser woman. Unfortunately for her, Robyn seemed to find it funny. “You’re about as adorable as she is after a bath, too.”

She grumbled under her breath, before looking back over at Jaune. An idea occurred to her, then, one which had her eyebrows drawing down.

“…Couldn’t you have just used an illusion spell on me to make me look different?”

“Hm?” Jaune coughed into one hand. “No, no. Certainly not.”

She stared.

Jaune wilted somewhat. “…I did not think of it.”

“When you get out of that mirror,” Weiss promised the man. “I am going to find a way to kill you through the immortality.”

“Noted.”

/

In the end, the hair dye idea worked.

They passed by a plethora of civilians who were armed and looking for trouble – trouble in this case being Weiss – but received no real interest from them, other than a couple shouting for them to ‘back off their turf’, or some other such garbage.

It helped that the only recognizable member of their band actually on the ground was Weiss. The Happy Huntresses, while being minor celebrities in and around Mantle, weren’t known to have interacted with Weiss, and the rest of her crew, sans Cinder, were unknowns.

Cinder herself was following them from a nearby rooftop, keeping an eye out – and distancing herself as much as possible from what she called the ‘goodie-two-shoes-police’.

She was, also, keeping an eye on the sky.

Atlas was here, after all, and they weren’t taking any prisoners.

…Actually, they were probably expressly here to take prisoners, but… look, Weiss was pretty sure her meaning was understood, alright!?

No sooner than had Weiss thought about Atlas than had they turned a corner onto another street, and seen a good fifty or so soldiers all stationed around, seemingly questioning people.

Hm. Weiss had the time to think. That seems bad.

“You there!”

The voice that called out to her was familiar, but Weiss, for the sake of her own sanity, chose to dismiss the fact that she knew it immediately. Surely, the world would not be so instantaneously cruel, would it?

Oh, yes, it would.

She turned her head, and saw that, walking right up to her, with her trademarked scowl glued to her face, was her sister, Winter Schnee.

Weiss wasn’t proud to admit it, but she froze up. Where everyone else in the group had turned around and started walking the other way, likely pretending they just hadn’t heard anything, Weiss had just… stood there.

With Jaune’s mirror set on her back. Just… right there. Out in the open. Completely obvious.

Welp. It was over.

She’d done her best, but–

“Have you seen Weiss Schnee?” Winter, her sister, asked directly to her face. “She looks rather similar to you, actually, albeit her hair is white like my own.”

Weiss… didn’t really know what to think in that moment. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be grateful, or annoyed, or downright insulted.

She settled for a mixture of all three, with a side of utter befuddlement.

“Uhm… No?”

“I see.” Winter sighed in disappointment. “Well, if you do, then please, contact Atlas Headquarters. Any and all tips that lead to her return to her family will be rewarded the same rate as what Jacques Schnee is currently willing to pay. And you will have my personal gratitude as well. I wish for nothing more than for my sister’s safety.”

“Right, I’ll uh… do that.”

Winter nodded, turned around – without so much as checking what the odd object on Weiss’ back might be – and disappeared back into the crowd of Atlesian soldiers.

For a while, Weiss just stood there.

“Weiss?”

“Yes, Jaune?”

“I do believe that thy sister might be an idiot.”

“Yes,” Weiss ran a hand down her face.

“I’m beginning to suspect that of just about everyone in the world is, these days.”

Chapter Text

“Wow, you’re still here.” Robyn Hill looked at her like her presence alone was a miracle. Weiss was inclined to agree. “Can’t say I saw that coming.”

“Yes, well, the intelligences of everyone I encounter these days seem to be actively decreasing,” Weiss sighed. “So, I’m not as surprised as I feel I should be.”

“Hey, if you say so. Guess I just thought your sister would recognize you through that shoddy-ass disguise.”

“As did I.” Weiss bemoaned. “As did I.”

“A pity,” Cinder said as she leapt down from atop a nearby rooftop, and rejoined the rest of the group on the ground. “I’d been hoping for an excuse to cut loose a little.”

“Alas, such was not to be.” Jaune spoke out from her back, sounding genuinely apologetic that Cinder hadn’t gotten the chance. Weiss was beginning to guess that Jaune was not a fan of controlling military states. “Perhaps next time?”

Cinder gave but a grunt in answer.

“Still, we should probably retreat for now.” Robyn cleared her throat, getting them all back on topic. “I doubt things are going to get any less chaotic now that Ironwood’s got his people roaming the streets looking for you.”

Weiss wasn’t about to argue with that assessment. She was definitely not about to argue with that assessment when, a second later, an explosion went off a few blocks down, and they all watched as an entire unit of Atlesian soldiers mobilized in that direction.

“Somehow I believe this is going to get worse before it gets better.” Jaune commented idly from off of her back.

“I’m inclined to agree.” Robyn grimaced. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”

“They say when it rains, it pours.”

“Can we all please stop spouting lines from some 2-bit thriller ad nauseum.” Weiss ran a hand down her face. “We have enough working against us without actively trying to jinx ourselves.”

“Ah, that is true, I suppose.” Jaune agreed. “Still, this world no longer possesses magic. How do jinxes still hold sway?”

“They don’t. It’s a figure of speech.”

“Ah. I see. So, what didst thou mean when thou said–”

“Jaune, let’s just…” She sighed. “Just talk about this later.”

“Understandable. Well, shalt we retire back to base?”

They were, it seemed, in agreement on that.

/

Somehow, their trip back to the Happy Huntresses’ ‘base’ was one done in relative peace. The important word in that sentence was ‘relative’, because their journey back was not actually peaceful.

Multiple groups of people attempted to stop them on their way, most of whom were easy enough to scare off with a simple display of Cinder’s abilities, lightly injuring a few people – and occasionally not-so-lightly injuring them – in order to make them back down.

The actual problems came in when one of the people in one of the groups took one look at Weiss, and her shoddy disguise, and instantly shouted out, “That’s her! Weiss Schnee!”

How some rando had managed to peg her true identity from out of a crowd of people at quite a distance when her own sister had looked her in the eye on her own face-to-face and been unable to, Weiss was doing her best not to think too hard about.

That particular group had been impossible to peacefully deal with. They’d been blinded to reality by the idea of her father’s reward money, which, even split the thirteen or so ways that it would have been had this group been able to retrieve Weiss, would’ve still been lifechanging.

Unfortunately for those thirteen or so people, they were not huntsman. They were not even particularly skilled civilians.

It had been a massacre. A bloodless – despite Cinder’s best efforts – massacre.

“That one looked rabid!” Cinder pouted as she brought her bow and arrow back up, and aimed at one of the passed-out civilians. “C’mon, one shot to the larynx and the problem is dealt with.”

“Cinder, we’re not killing people for fun.” Weiss ran a hand down her face.

“…Please?”

Weiss wondered what realm of Gehenna she had been trapped within, and what she had done in a previous life to deserve it.

“No.”

Cinder’s pout grew, and she stomped off in a huff like a petulant child, not being allowed to get a toy they’d picked off the store shelves.

It was, despite Weiss’ attempts to ignore it, kind of funny.

“She’s rather rambunctious, is she not?” Jaune laughed good-naturedly from off of her back.

“Replace rambunctious with ‘murderous’, and I think you might have her more accurately pegged.”

“Oh, but she’s not murderous! She feared that man had rabies. A terrifying condition.”

“She didn’t–” No. Weiss was not about to dignify this conversation. “Y’know what? Sure. You’re right. She must have just mistaken the spittle flying from the man’s mouth as he screamed for mercy to be foam.”

“Ah, yes. That is quite likely.”

She debated ritual suicide, but decided against it. It was a close call.

Weiss wasn’t expecting much for when they actually walked in the door of the Happy Huntresses’ place of residence. They had, after all, been gone for maybe a few hours. Thusly, she was expecting to walk in and find it almost exactly as they’d left it.

This was not the case.

There were a number of things about it that were different. In order of magnitude from least to most, the light fixture that hung in the entryway was swaying back and forth, having clearly been jostled by something. The floor was scuffed rather heavily from what seemed to be heavy foot travel.

And Ruby, Yang, Blake, Nora, Pyrrha, Ren, Qrow, Adam, and a smattering of random faunus were all standing directly in front of them, too.

“…Okay.” Weiss said to say anything.

“Well, uhm… hello?”

Things sort of degenerated from there.

The degeneration was mostly screaming.

“You’re here!”

“I’m here!”

“We thought you were–”

“The Atlas Military showed up!”

“Oh, don’t mind me here.”

“Jasmine!”

“Pyrrha!”

“Wait, hold on, why are we celebrating?”

Things went on like that for around ten or so minutes. Nothing of value was gained, but nothing of value was lost, either, so it evened out in the end.

Jasmine and Pyrrha had reunited – good for them – Weiss had hugged Ruby, then Yang, then Blake in that order. Cheshire sort of danced around shaking people’s hands who clearly didn’t know them. Pyrrha ‘accidentally’ kicked Cinder in the stomach, which seemed like a really hard thing to do on accident, but frankly Cinder had that and roughly nine hundred and ninety-nine more kicks coming her way, so Weiss wasn’t going to call Pyrrha out for it.

Finally, once they’d calmed down, they sought about moving into a larger room that could easily accommodate the twenty or so people their band now consisted of. Weiss was at the center of this little grouping, surrounded by people on all sides. She was, admittedly, somewhat nervous about leaving Ruby and the others with a clear path to Jaune, who was still on her back, but…

“So, yeah, we sort of realized that you might’ve been telling the truth.” Ruby announced, smiling over at her. “So, we decided to have faith in you.”

Finally. Weiss thought but did not say.

“That’s good.” She managed not to betray her innermost thoughts. “What caused your sudden change of heart?”

“Mostly the fact that Ozpin has totally gone off the deep end.” Yang admitted, shrugging when Ruby glared over at her. “Hey, it’s the truth. Doesn’t help that Ironwood’s on his side on this, and is sending in what feels like the entire Atlas military to try and capture you. Having spoken with some of the actually sane people down here in Mistral, they’re all a little peeved that the guy who has so far been entirely willing to hang them out to dry is putting in all this effort for the sake of one rich Atlesian girl. Hell, a lot of them think that Ironwood wants the prize from Jacques Schnee, as ridiculous as that sounds.”

It was ridiculous, knowing just how much money the Atlesian Military had at their disposal. The amount of money her father was offering was life changing for a civilian, but certainly not for the government of a major kingdom.

“Great, I’m sure that won’t cause any problems.” Jasmine groaned.

“If I hear about a bunch of Mantle civilians attacking an Atlesian convoy to try and prevent them from stealing me away…” actually, never mind, that was going to happen within the next three hours, she just knew.

“So,” Jaune spoke from off of her back. “The Atlesian Military is now after thee, as well as the entirety of the people of Mantle. I am loathe to admit defeat, but we may want to retreat from Mantle’s walls for the time being.”

Weiss could tell that it was the last thing Jaune wanted to do. It had become more and more obvious to her over the course of the last few days that Jaune cared deeply about issues such as these; governments overreaching, stifling the common people beneath them.

Jaune didn’t want to leave.

But their situation was getting worse all the time. If Atlas got their heads out of their asses and cottoned onto where the Happy Huntresses were located – which, in fairness, was seeming less and less likely every day – then they’d have an entire battalion of soldiers bearing down on them.

And while Weiss thought they were a pretty capable group, even they might be outgunned at that point.

It was as she was thinking about such things that her scroll buzzed. It was a loud buzzing, one which had her pocket vibrating rather harshly. She quickly realized that it was not just her own scroll, but rather the scrolls of everyone in the room that were vibrating in tandem.

“What the…” Robyn Hill remarked. “…A special announcement from Jacques Schnee?”

Somehow, Weiss knew this was going to be bad for her.

“Good evening to the people of both Mantle and Atlas. I am Jacques Schnee, head of the Schnee Dust Company.” Her father began as he appeared on screen. Weiss probably should’ve been wondering exactly how he’d gotten the authority to stream directly to every scroll in what seemed like the entire Kingdom all at once, but her mind was elsewhere in the moment. “I am coming to you today to continue speaking on important matters. I speak not, of course, of my own campaign to become a member of Atlas’ Council,”

He really just had to fit that in there, didn’t he?

“But instead, about my concern for my daughter, who has, even with my promise of a very generous reward for any who are able to safely return her to me, still evaded any attempts to save her from her predicament. How this is possible given she is just one girl, I know not.”

Weiss kind of wanted to punch her father in the face. She couldn’t, of course, given the man wasn’t in the room, but she really did want to.

“I cannot say I do not think the people of Mantle have not been offered a just reward for my daughter’s return. But I am a father, and a desperate one at that. I wish to see my daughter again, and I wish to confirm her safety above all else, to safeguard her against the horrid threat that has come over her.”

Said ‘horrid threat’ coughed from off of her back, before seemingly getting something caught in his throat and coughing continuously over the course of the next several seconds trying to dislodge it.

“So, here and now, I announce that I am hereby tripling the reward that I am offering for my daughter’s return.”

Weiss’ eyes widened. More than a few people in the room gasped.

“I didn’t know numbers could get that high.” Cheshire remarked.

“Make no mistake; my daughter’s rescue is not a private affair. From what I hear, the entirety of Mantle is abuzz with activity, attempting to locate her. One may think this means that any single individual has no chance of collecting the bounty I have put forth. But I do not want you to lose heart. Even now, the Atlas Military is working to bring my daughter into their custody, and I worry that if they succeed, that they will imprison her for things that she has done which she had no control over.”

“Oh. He’s pitting the people of Mantle against Atlas.” Cinder hummed.

“That’s bad.” Pyrrha responded.

“It’s clever.” Cinder argued.

“Still bad.”

“I apologize again for interrupting your evenings with such a desperate request,” Her father bowed towards the screen, which had Weiss thinking that there was something fishy going on. “But I am a father, and I cannot help but worry immensely for my daughter. Thank you to the people of Mantle, and I wish you the best of luck in the times to come.”

The feed cut off, and that was that.

Everyone in the room stared down at their now dark scrolls.

“Hm.” Jasmine balanced her head on her elbow. “I think that’s bad.”

“Bad!?” Weiss snapped at her. “It’s terrible! He’s… he’s practically trying to get Mantle and Atlas to go to war with one another!”

“More than practically.” Robyn said, crossing her arms. “He might not have pulled the proverbial trigger on the conflict that will be coming, but I can assure you that whatever happens, he is to blame.”

“Ugh!” Weiss wanted to punch something. Actually, not something. Again, she wanted to punch her father. That just wasn’t an option. “Why would he do something like that!?”

“Well, obviously, he’s being blackmailed by Watts.”

Everyone in the room turned to look at Cinder, who had just said the previous sentence like it was the most obvious thing in all the world.

“…What?” Cinder asked, turning and meeting everyone’s eyes. “You’re all looking at me like I’ve said something strange.”

“What do you mean my father’s being blackmailed by Watts?”

“…He has suddenly expressed an interest in your safety that he never has before, without any warning or reason.”

“Yes.”

“He has also suddenly shown a propensity to be willing to spend vast amounts of lien, something that, as the richest man on Remnant, I’d imagine he is normally wan to do.”

“Okay.”

“He is also pitting Mantle and Atlas against one another, something that would not at all serve his purposes. He is a businessman, but he is not in the business of war. He would not profit in the event of active combat in the streets. Not whatsoever.”

“I’m… following.”

“And, perhaps most damningly, the message that was just played to us was directly streamed to each of our scrolls, which is a function normally reserved only for emergency messages, such as alerts about major Grimm attacks. Let me tell you that there are only a few people alive who could hack in and force a message to be played in such a way. And given that the other circumstances line up rather well, and Watts was one of the people who designed the modern scroll…”

“Great…” Weiss moaned out. “So, Mantle and Atlas are going to be warring with each other, whilst simultaneously attempting to kidnap me. My father is being blackmailed by Arthur Watts, who directly works for Salem. Meanwhile, Salem herself is apparently scheduled to show up any day now, and when she does, she’ll unleash death and destruction on the entirety of Atlas.”

“Oh,” Cheshire raised their hand. “Don’t forget that Ozpin and Ironwood are trying to steal away Jaune, and imprison him again for all eternity!”

Her right eye twitched.

“Gah! Can this situation get any worse!?”

Suddenly, the power flickered. The lights inside of the building they were in dimmed. Their entire band looked around in confusion.

Then, coming in from the door at the back of the room, Fiona appeared. There was a look of utmost terror in her eyes as she pushed her way through the crowd. Her hands were shaking, and she was panting most heavily.

“M-Ma’am!” She addressed Robyn. “We have a situation! You need to come see this!”

Robyn looked to the rest of them, and, without bothering to finish their meeting, they all filed out the door, and outside the Happy Huntresses base of operations as well.

The problem that Fiona was likely meaning to address became apparent quite quickly.

“Hm.” Jaune hummed from off of her back. “I do believe things have gotten worse.”

“Yes, Jaune, thank you for saying that. I hadn’t noticed.”

“How didst thou not notice the giant flying whale of Grimm origin hanging in the sky, darkening the very horizon with black magics?”

“It was a figure of speech, Jaune.”

“Alike to how jinxes were just a figure of speech?”

“Touché, Jaune. Touché.”

There was, somehow, a moment of complete and utter silence. Somewhere, off in the distance, an unknown civilian gave a fairly accurate summation of events.

“WE’RE ALL GONNA’ DIE!”

Chapter Text

“DOES ANYONE HAVE A PLAN!?”

A beowolf leapt at Weiss with the fury of a thousand suns, and she yelped even as it was shot down midair by one of Robyn’s arrows.

“I HATH THE CONCEPTS OF A PLAN!” Jaune answered her.

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!?”

“I DO NOT KNOW!”

“THEN WHY WOULD YOU SAY IT!?”

“I ALSO DO NOT KNOW!”

They were, the lot of them, holed up at the gates of Mantle. Or, well, less gates, and more weak points in the walls of Mantle. More specifically the major one that had still been under repair when Salem had suddenly decided that today was the day to launch her assault on Atlas.

And Mantle was, of course, caught in the crossfire.

The flying Grimm were ignoring them entirely, darkening the sky and casting myriad shadows that passed over them down on the ground as they assaulted the technological metropolis hanging above them. The ground Grimm, of course, were stuck dealing with them.

Salem knew that there existed methods of transportation between Mantle and Atlas, and once she captured those, she could begin to ferry the more dangerous species of Grimm into Atlas.

They were trying to prevent things from coming to that.

It was going so-so.

To say they were being overrun was a vast oversimplification of the current situation. They were, technically, holding the line. The problem really was that they were burning through aura like it was water in the middle of the Vacuoan desert, and they kind of needed that to keep holding the line.

Ammunition, too, for those that used it, was becoming quite scarce. Robyn, Ruby, Blake and Yang had all already run out of ammo on the first few waves of Grimm coming in at the weak points in Mantle’s walls, and even if they’d gotten resupplied since then, the bad thing about the Grimm was that there was sort of an infinite number of waves.

Which meant that they were going to run out of resupplies before long.

“Jaune!” She shouted out, trying to be audible over the sounds of screaming, tearing and ripping, the sounds of Grimm being destroyed, but also of civilians and guardsmen being overrun. “Can you shore up the wall somehow!?”

“I could, but it would not be an instantaneous procedure. I would need several minutes.”

“That’s fine! It’s better than us being overwhelmed here entirely!”

“Understood. I will concentrate.”

Jaune went silent, and Weiss focused back in on the fight.

It was hard to keep track of any one Grimm. A sea of black was all she could truly comprehend, all coming at her from roughly ten or so meters in front of her. She had her Arma Gigas cutting through huge swaths, but she couldn’t truly approach the horde lest risk being swallowed up by them entirely.

Even a few Grimm could take a fully trained Hunter to the ground if not given proper respect. Already, Weiss had seen that happen to several guardsmen around the wall.

She was looking to avoid that happening to her.

Some of their number were unfortunately dramatically less effective like this. Poking out at the enemy in the distance. Yang, Blake, Pyrrha, and Ren were all melee fighters despite having ranged options, and while Ruby, Nora, and Cinder could offer more at range due to either accuracy or the lack of a need for accuracy, not being able to get up close and personal was hurting them.

Cinder, seemingly at her wits end with this scenario, growled out below her breath like some kind of feral creature, and turned back to her.

“Aren’t you the Fall Maiden!?” Cinder screamed at her, both in rage and desperation. “Use your damned powers!”

She was about to retort that Cinder was the Fall Maiden, and that she’d been wondering why she hadn’t been using the powers very much when she awkwardly remembered that she was, in fact, the Fall Maiden. It was something that she hadn’t so much as thought about in the last few days. There’d simply been too much to think on, too many things distracting her. But just like Cinder was saying, she did have quite a bit of power thrumming below the surface.

She’d never actually used it before, at least not outside of training. Even the training she’d done with Jaune and Jasmine had not been quite so focused as this was. That had all been theory and, in essence, magical stretches.

Now she was being asked to magically run a marathon.

It was different in scope, but…

She was a Huntress. And a damned good one at that. She considered herself rather capable, even without this newfound magical power to lean back on, and if she wanted her friends, teammates, allies, and Cinder to make it out of this alive, then that meant that she had to make some quite literal magic happen.

She stretched out her hands, pointed them towards the mass of Grimm…

And then just sort of… thought.

The magics within her did the rest.

From out of her palms poured a veritable wave of frost. It washed over the first few Grimm, and turned them to ice in a matter of moments. Those behind them, not having expected the ones in front of them to turn into a solid wall, slammed into that wall, and then were quickly crushed to death by the remainder of the horde still behind them, trying press forward.

All the while, Weiss kept pouring more of her magical reserves into the wall in front of her. it grew larger, taller, but most importantly thicker by the second. If she could make it thick enough, a meter or two, she might be able to prevent any Grimm at all from breaking it. Or at the very least slow all but the largest of Grimm down long enough for guards at the top of the wall to pick off the stragglers.

She thought of that; of saving as many lives as she could, and the ice intensified. She found a scream broiling up within her, and unleashed it. The ice grew colder, went farther, froze faster.

And, roughly thirty seconds later, there was a seven-meter tall wall of ice a solid four meters thick where there had once been a torrent of oncoming Grimm.

And Weiss was entirely exhausted.

She damn near fell to her knees; would have, if not for Ruby catching her, supporting her and helping her over to a nearby wall to lean on.

“You’re a Maiden!?” Ruby reacted, looking back, pretty understandably to what Weiss had just revealed. “Why did you not mention that!?”

Weiss tried to summon up a decent answer. The problem was that one didn’t actually exist.

“…I forgot?”

Her team – the rest of whom had walked over to check on her – just sort of stared at her blankly.

Jaune of course chose that exact moment to rejoin the conversation.

“Alright, I am ready to summon a wall!”

Weiss just sighed.

/

They’d held against the initial Grimm assault, albeit ‘held’ was perhaps a strong word when the walls of Mantle were old, weak, and in several places actively falling apart. It was likely they’d bought themselves a few hours while the Grimm poked around the outside of the walls, and tried to find more weak spots to stage further attacks on.

Weiss wasn’t going to complain about having a few hours off, though. She was, in fact, planning on relishing those hours.

Such was not to be, however.

“So, you just… took the Maiden powers?” Yang raised an eyebrow. “How does that work, exactly?”

“Yes, please,” Cinder questioned as well, trying her best to look uninterested and calm and failing miserably at both. “How does that work?”

“Jaune was the one capable of moving the powers.” Weiss answered simply. “I don’t know anything more about it. Also, apparently, the bug inside of Cinder was the actual Fall Maiden, and not her?”

Cinder’s brow twitched. She didn’t say anything, but Weiss could tell the woman was infuriated.

“Alright. I won’t ask any questions about that despite it being a super weird thing to say.” Yang nodded her head. “So, you just are the Fall Maiden, then?”

“Basically.”

“Alright, sure, why not? Not the weirdest thing we’ve been confronted with this… few hours?”

That was the unfortunate truth, wasn’t it?

“So,” Blake cleared her throat. “Salem’s here.”

The entire room, full of a good twenty or so people, dimmed both in volume and tone at those words. It was a harrowing prospect, of course; Vale had fallen without Salem’s direct intervention, and yet judging by the massive Grimm whale on the horizon, she was very much here in person for Atlas.

Despite the fact that Atlas in theory had quite a bit more defense than Vale had, it didn’t leave any of them feeling much better about the situation.

“Does anyone have a plan?” Yang asked. “Because frankly, I think that’s where we should be starting.”

“The obvious plan is to try and evacuate Atlas and Mantle.” Ruby stated, not at all hesitating to state so large and grand an idea, no matter how foolhardy it might sound. “If it’s just a matter of time before the Grimm overwhelm Mantle’s defenses, then we need to get people out before that happens.”

“Okay, great idea in theory, and I’m very much on board.” Robyn Hill raised a hand, stepping forward. “Follow-up question, though; how do you plan on doing that? Every ship that can have a gun mounted onto it has already been called out to buzz about the perimeter blowing Grimm up, and the perimeter itself is swarming with Grimm. Getting people out is going to be next to impossible.”

“We could move to take out the source?” May brought up, but she must’ve been able to tell by the way that everyone else was looking at hearing such a thought that that wasn’t a viable solution. “What’s wrong with that idea?”

“Salem is… well, that’s not exactly possible.” Ruby scratched at the back of her neck. “We could incapacitate her for a bit, but taking her out entirely isn’t something we can do. It’s not something anyone can do.”

“Oh. That’s uh… bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Well… that might not be entirely true.”

Everyone in the room turned to look at her, despite the fact that she hadn’t actually said anything.

Of course, the person who’d just spoken had been attached to her, so credit to everyone else, she supposed.

She took Jaune’s mirror from off of her back, and set it down on the table at the center of the room. Jaune proceeded to project himself with some manner of light spell, so that he was looking around at everyone, as a hologram hovering above his mirror.

“I confess that this is the mere concepts of a plan, and not a plan itself.”

“What does that mean?” Robyn arced an eyebrow.

“No one knows, just go with it.” Weiss sighed.

“Salem, my niece,”

“I’m sorry, what?” Qrow blanched.

“Ur… we can discuss more on that later. Regardless, Salem, who may or may not be related to me, possesses within her a kernel of good, unlike Cinder here.”

Cinder made a face like she was wondering why she was catching proverbial strays. In Jaune’s defense, this was Cinder they were talking about.

“It is so buried beneath layers and layers of gunk and eons of hate that I suspected for a long while that it would be impossible to remove it in a feasible timeframe. Entire years of charging my magical energies before I could build up the power necessary to try and do something about it. But I have felt… stronger of late. I know not why, but I may just be able to gather enough power within a few days’ time to purge Salem of her evil.”

Everyone looked to Weiss for answers there, but it was ultimately Adam who answered them.

“It is what was done to me.” Adam said. “I had hatred, rage, prejudice and envy clouding my mind. Whatever spell this warlock cast upon me, it freed me of those chains. I was once again myself, as I always should have been. I imagine that is his plan, to do the same to Salem.”

“Salem would not be quite so easy.” Jaune spoke simply, continuing from where he left off. “She is… she was good for a far smaller percentage of her life than Adam here was. Even assuming she was not immediately consumed by her hate fully, she has now lived a hundred thousand years. It is safe to say that there is very little of her original self remaining.”

“But you still think it’s possible to remove her evil?”

“I do.”

“If you could do that, then…”

“She might be able to pull the Grimm back after we made her good.” Ruby confirmed, looking around at everyone. “It sounds great.”

“Too great.” Blake confirmed exactly what Weiss was thinking. “There’s a catch, isn’t there?

“Indeed.” Jaune confirmed. “On Adam, I was able to affect him and several of his compatriots all at once, and from a significant range. This would not be possible with Salem. Her evil is too caked on, too attached to her. I would have to be up close and personal with her. Likely inches from her, if not closer than that. If we were to do that, we would likely need to incapacitate her first, and given her immortality, that would be difficult. We would need to, quite literally, hold her down.”

“And given she’s an immortal witch from the dawn of time,” Qrow groaned. “That’s going to suck, basically?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Jaune confirmed.  

“That would mean us going inside of that thing, wouldn’t it? That Grimm monstrosity?”

“It would.”

Weiss just groaned, already knowing the next few days were going to be hell.

“Does anyone else have any other ideas?” Weiss asked, hoping someone would but also knowing the truth.

As she’d guessed, no one said a thing.

That was just it, then.

“Fine. It’s not like there’s anything else we can do.” Weiss sighed. “Then that’s the plan. Jaune charges for the next few days while we hold the line. Once he’s nearly ready, we march for that Grimm whale thing… somehow.”

“We’ll have to commandeer an Atlas Military Vessel to even get close.” Robyn said. “We might want to do that while we’re waiting for your guy to gather magic.”

“He’s not my–” No. That was a stupid thing to get upset about. “Right.”

“And in the meantime, we hope that Ironwood sees the bigger picture, and doesn’t do anything stupid.” Robyn muttered.

“Are you kidding?” Qrow barked out a laugh. “Frankly, I somehow think he’s got bigger things to worry about than us.”

/

“The bomb is prepped and ready to be dropped on Mantle, sir.”

Ironwood, completely and totally in control of his mental faculties, nodded his head.

“Excellent.”

Chapter Text

“And in the meantime, we hope that Ironwood sees the bigger picture, and doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Are you kidding? Frankly, I somehow think he’s got bigger things to worry about than us.”

Somehow, that thought had seemed so reasonable a few hours ago.

At the moment, Weiss was currently flying in the middle of the air using the powers of the Fall Maiden, which she was not remotely comfortable enough to be utilizing in such a way. She was chasing a giant bomb that was headed straight for Mantle, and would impact against it in maybe… thirty seconds or less?

Oh, and she had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to do about it, either.

One might have wondered, ‘how exactly had Weiss ended up in this situation?’

And to answer that question, one would need to rewind back… four hours, thirty-four minutes, seventeen seconds, and around seventy-seven milliseconds.

Give or take.

At that point, the exact words being said would be…

/

“So, is that an ixnay on the pancakes, then?”

“That’s an ixnay on the pancakes.” Ren confirmed, although he was smiling. “We don’t have the ingredients to make eighty of them for all the people here.”

“But I’m not asking you to make pancakes for everyone!” Nora cried out, crawling at Ren’s feet and literally dogging his heels. “Just for me!”

“So, damn everyone else?”

“Now you’re getting it!”

Ren just rolled his eyes.

Weiss watched it all with a fond smile. It was nice to have some constants in the world, and she’d missed Ren and Nora’s back and forth. It had become such a constant of her life at Beacon that she’d almost forgotten how nice it was. It was sort of like watching a sit-com. No matter what happened, she knew those two would always go back to who they were before.

Both for good, and for bad, since it seemed like they still hadn’t talked about Nora’s very obvious infatuation.

Oh well. That wasn’t Weiss’ business.

It was as she was making her way out of the kitchen, having grabbed a shitty snack bar with nuts and raisins, that she heard someone speak.

“Guys, there’s another message from Jimmy!” Qrow called out, gesturing towards an open window.

Luckily, despite them all being spread out in the room – there were around twenty or them – they could hear the message being played just fine from where they all were. It was being played out of every PA device in the city, after all, and that included several such devices that were on their block. It was a bit grainy, but audible.  

“Ladies and Gentleman of Mantle.” Came the voice of Ironwood, even as, on the many jumbotrons set up around the city, his visage appeared in a low, dimly lit room. “I come bearing grim tidings.”

Cheshire leaned forward, like they were hanging on the man’s every word.

“There are dark forces lurking within your midst.”

Cheshire let out a disappointed sigh.

“And I am not talking about the Grimm, who even now surge against your walls, and who threaten to take to the sky and rip Atlas from the heavens. I am talking about Weiss Schnee, and the band of terrorists she brings along with her!”

“Hey!” Nora placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not a terrorist!”

“I mean, sure. Not really.” Robyn Hill cleared her throat. “But the moment you left Ironwood and came down here, I’m pretty sure he would’ve marked you as terrorists. He really likes doing that.”

“I have, as a member of Atlas, continued to fight for the protection of my people. This Grimm invasion has long been planned for. We have seen it coming for months now, and have been preparing ourselves for this. Yet even so, there are elements at play in this situation we did not prepare for. That we could not have prepared for.”

“Really?” Ren’s eyes widened as he turned towards Robyn. “But Ironwood seemed so put together when we talked with him.”

“Seriously?” Robyn raised an eyebrow. “Like… for real?”

“Yes. I have faith that, while Ironwood may seem unsteady at first, you will find a certain mettle within him. He is a good man at heart.”

“It is because we now face united threats that I have come to the conclusion that slower, more cautious methods cannot be abided by. I must act, as horrible as this act may be. And so, here and now, I issue an unfortunate ultimatum.”

As the man said this, a timer appeared on the jumbo screen. It declared that there was three hours, fifty-nine minutes, and thirty or so seconds until… something.

“As of right now, in four hours’ time, a nuclear device with a payload more than capable of wiping Mantle from Remnant’s surface will be detonated within the city.”

Weiss’ mouth hung open. She was stunned, utterly speechless.

Surely… surely it was a jest? A bluff? It had to be.

“I am not bluffing. This is no jest.”

Okay, well, there went that.

“I am afraid I have been left with very few options. I already face the very real possibility that I must recall all soldiers to Atlas’ borders in order to prevent it from being overrun by the Grimm. If that is the case; if Mantle is all but doomed, I see no reason why I would not at least eliminate a threat to Atlas’ safety in the process.”

It was… a very bastardized pragmatism, Weiss supposed. That, or it was the train of thought of the world’s single most terrified man. One of those two things.

Jeez, and Weiss had thought Leo was bad.

“There is, of course, a way around this. If Weiss Schnee, and the mirror that she holds along her back, are brought to any of the points that I am now marking across the city, or if Weiss Schnee chooses to turn herself in, then I will avert the bombing. It truly is the last thing I want to do. But I fear I have no choice. Now, I am banking on Weiss Schnee’s conscience not being fully lost from within that black shell. I am banking on her doing the right thing.”

Right. Because this was about Weiss doing the right thing, and not the man threatening to blow up a good few million people. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

“People of Mantle, you have heard my decree. That is all.”

And then the jumbotron went dark.

Not quite all at once, but all over the course of the next few seconds, the entire room turned to look at Ren.

He coughed awkwardly. “…I stand corrected.”

/

“So is Ozpin just like going along with this, or–”

“Are you kidding? He’s been the one most willing to throw Weiss to the wolves this whole time. Anything to stop the world’s most dangerous piece of bathroom furniture from–”

“Hey, look, I get we’re pissed right now, but there’s no way Oz would be okay with–”

“Then why isn’t he doing anything to stop it!? Millions of people are going to die, and yet–”

“It has to be a bluff. I say we call it!”

“Yeah, easy for you to say! You don’t have friends and family down here who–”

“ENOUGH!” Weiss roared over the entire crowd, and, thanks to the enchantment that Jaune had cast on her to enhance the volume and persuasiveness of her words for a few seconds, she was obeyed. “Thank you. Now. Arguing is going to get us nowhere.”

“I fundamentally disagree.” Adam smacked a fist into his palm. “Argument is the backbone of any truly just society.”

“Okay, I see where Blake gets her everything from.” Yang remarked, causing her girlfriend to smack her on the arm. “But really, I agree with Weiss. We need to come up with a plan, and fast, no?”

“She’s right.” Ruby nodded. “Anyone in disagreement?”

No one seemed to be.

“Alright.” Weiss cleared her throat. “Ironwood’s planning on dropping a massive explosive onto Mantle in order to… wait, why would he do that? Only we would die. Jaune would be fine!”

“Right!?” Qrow shook his head. “It has to be a bluff!”

“We can’t afford to assume that it is!” Robyn slammed a hand down on the table in front of her. “It would be great if it was a bluff, but again, I have friends and family down here, I’m not going to assume that. For right now, we have to take this threat entirely seriously. Ironwood has a bomb. He’s going to use it. If we operate from that point of view, things become simpler; we go up there, and we stop it.”

“That might be just what Ironwood wants.” One of the White Fang said, scowling.

“Can we afford to not do something about it?” Blake argued back. “Even if it is what he wants, Robyn’s right. Sitting here and calling his bluff isn’t a possibility. We have to make our way to Atlas, and fast. Robyn, did you make any progress on getting a way up top?”

“I have a lead,” Robyn admitted, rubbing at the back of her neck and clicking her tongue. “But nothing concrete. Apparently one of the Atlesian squadrons sent down here to try and find you ran into some trouble, and had to leave one of their bullheads behind when they were swarmed by an angry mob of civilians. I don’t know how true it is, I wasn’t able to really confirm the validity of that statement, but if it is true, then…”

“Then taking that bullhead might be the key to getting up.” Ruby nodded. “And uh… what do we do once we’re up there? Does anyone know how to disarm a bomb?”

“I mean, in theory, it wouldn’t come to that. We’d get there before the bomb had been armed.”

“…Assuming that our luck holds out, though?” Ruby asked.

It was a fair thing to ask. They’d had some not-so-great luck recently.

“I may have a solution.” Jaune spoke from off of Weiss’ back. She brought him around so that he could address everyone in the room. “Albiet I’ve never actually encountered a nuclear bomb before. If I am to understand, it is an explosive?”

“Yes.” Weiss nodded. “It works by splitting an atom in half, which–”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, they take an atom, and they perform a form of fission on it to where–”

“Fascinating!” Jaune’s face lit up. “And what is an atom?”

Oh. Right. She’d forgotten Jaune was a nerd at heart.

“Er… I’ll explain more later. It’s a bomb, basically.”

Jaune nodded his head, seeming a touch disappointed. “Well, I suppose that’s enough information for now. Essentially, If I can get close enough, I can fry the internal mechanism in the explosive device itself. If that’s done, it won’t be able to detonate, and Mantle will be safe. Assuming of course that an atom cannot be split without the mechanism in the bomb itself?”

“I don’t believe it can be.” Weiss stated, her eyes narrowing. “…It can’t be, right?”

“I certainly haven’t heard of anyone doing it.” Robyn frowned. “…Probably not.”

“Yeah. I don’t think they could.” Someone else stated.

“Maybe Malik the Sunderer? He could cut things perfectly in half?”

“He’s dead.” Jasmine pointed out.

“That is good.” Pyrrha smiled.

“Focus!” Weiss snapped. “Let’ s assume for the moment that no, they cannot activate the bomb except by the internal mechanism. Let’ s also assume that they only have the one. If they don’t…”

“Well, then we’re SOL.” May shrugged. “Not much we can do in that case.”

“…Okay.” Ruby said, nodding her head as she looked around at everyone else in the room.

“Then let’s make a plan.”

/

“I don’t like this.” Ironwood said again, for perhaps the fifth time.

“I do not either, my friend.” Ozpin sighed, running a hand down his face. “But with Salem on our doorstep, we simply can’t afford to be dealing with a two-pronged attack. I have faith that Ms. Rose and her allies will not allow this to happen. They will come up to Atlas and attempt to put a stop to the bomb. When they do, we can apprehend Ms. Schnee, take the mirror, free her from its clutches, and never actually have to use the device.”

Ironwood nodded. That would have to be enough. He didn’t like the plan. Not even remotely. But he couldn’t deny that it made sense. If they were dealing with two Salem’s, but one of them needed someone to ferry them around…

Well, the logical solution was to deal with that person. They’d sent entire squadrons down into Mantle, searched door after door, location after location, and they’d found no one. Clearly, this Jaune D’Arc, Ruler of the Lands of Light, was a master of stealth.

/

On Weiss’ back, Jaune sneezed rather violently.

“You alright?”

“Indeed.” Jaune coughed into his hand. “Ah, it seems that Adam’s White Fang are back with the donuts!”

Weiss turned around, looked out the window, and saw that roughly fifteen faunus were carrying a dozen or so boxes of a dozen or so donuts.

“…You don’t think that they should be a little bit more subtle?” Weiss asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean that it seems like we’re making the location of our base rather obvious.”

“Bah, I don’t think that’s true at all. I’d be shocked if anyone were able to find us!”

Weiss hummed noncommittally.

/

It was as Ironwood and Ozpin – or Oscar, James supposed, but the boy had not been present much lately – were stepping towards the door at the back of their command room that it opened up, and in stepped…

Ironwood felt his stomach fall.

Ah.

“Winter.” He nodded to her. “It’s good to see you.”

“General Ironwood, sir!” Winter looked like she’d run the whole way there. “What was the meaning of that broadcast!? A bluff at a time like this? If they don’t come up here, then your credibility–”

“It was no bluff, Winter.” Ironwood answered. “We truly will drop that bomb on Mantle in,” he looked down at the counter on his wrist. “Three and a half hours, now. We don’t want to, but if our demands aren’t met, then at the very least we will eliminate a threat before it can act against us.”

Winter’s eyes widened, even as she turned towards Ozpin, saw his expression, and realized that he was being entirely serious.

She looked around. Stared at the multiple people in the room. Many of them felt the same way as Ironwood; none of them wanted to do this. But this was the safety of Atlas, of all its people, on the line.

He cared for Mantle, too, but it had been compromised. It was already at the most risk of being overrun by the Grimm. He could not afford to spend resources he did not have trying to save it and uncover Weiss Schnee and the mirror in her possession.

Finally, after fifteen or so seconds, Winter turned back to him. She took a breath, and then continued speaking.

“Sir. …My sister is still down there.”

“I am aware, Winter.”

“…Sir.”

“Winter.”

“I…” Winter’s expression darkened. Ironwood closed his eyes, let out a breath through his nose, and prepared himself for the inevitable.

She did not hesitate, for Winter had never been one to hesitate. She had done that already, had made up her mind during that brief, fifteen second interim. She would act, now.

He would be ready.

Winter surged forward, her weapons aimed directly at Ironwood’s face. Her eyes harbored death in them. She had always been nothing but loyal, nothing but his staunchest supporter. But her priorities, in that moment, became clear.

Her sister was more important. More important than Atlas, perhaps than the world.

He could not, would not, blame her.

But he could not allow her to stop him, either.

James dodged around Winter’s opening blow, drew Due Process, activated Mettle, and waded into battle.

Chapter Text

“Well, I see the bullhead.”

“Hm. Excellent.” Jaune responded. “Why do we not go and grab it?”

“There’s… people at the bullhead.”

“Ah. I see. How many?”

“…Fifty.”

“…That is many.”

“Yes.” Weiss sighed. “It is.”

Weiss was currently staring at an entire band of hooligans, who had seemingly captured the abandoned bullhead. It looked like whatever Atlas force it had belonged to had left it behind down here in Mantle. It was probably like Robyn said; that they’d been overwhelmed in some way and simply had to leave it behind. Or maybe it was faulty in some way.

Either way, currently, the ship didn’t seem to be any of these people’s priority. That priority was, instead, throwing a massive rave.

Weiss’ group, for there were quite a few of them, consisted of Weiss herself, Cinder, Qrow, Robyn, Ruby, Blake, Yang, Pyrrha, Adam, and Jasmine. Everyone else they’d been forced to leave behind. There simply wouldn’t have been enough room for them on the bullhead.

Well, that, and Nora thought she could get Ren to make her pancakes if she was the only person still in the base. Weiss had her doubts on that, since the entirety of the White Fang had stayed behind. But she applauded the woman’s… guile? Was that the term?

It didn’t feel like it should be applicable to Nora Valkyrie.

Penny and the other Happy Huntresses, meanwhile, would continue to patrol Mantle, keeping people safe whilst Weiss and the others made their way topside. She hoped they would be fine, that the roaming bands who now had even less to lose would not act against them.

It was all she could really do.

But, back to the matter at hand…

“…Why are they partying, exactly?” Weiss turned to Robyn Hill, who was knelt next to her. “Salem is on their doorsteps, and Ironwood is threatening to drop a massive bomb on them in… two hours, now?”

“People handle grief in different ways.” Robyn shrugged. “It’s possible – hell, probable – that this is about the best they could come up with in terms of coping mechanisms. They think they’re all going to die, so they want to at least be drunk off their asses while they do it.”

Weiss supposed she knew more than a little about drinking as a coping mechanism.

“Obviously, we could just beat the shit out of them,” Robyn cleared her throat. “But I’d rather it not come to that. But, I mean, if its either beating the shit out of them or not getting the bullhead, clearly, we beat the shit out of them. Better they get hurt than blown to smithereens.”

Weiss hummed. Despite the somewhat crass nature of what Robyn was saying, Weiss agreed one hundred percent. Better hurt than dead.

“Could we?” Cinder asked, sounding hopeful. “I mean… it would be faster, no? To, er, ‘beat the shit’ out of them?”

“Uh-huh. Faster.” Weiss stared. “That’s why you want to.”

Cinder coughed, looking away.

Still…

“Jaune, can you move them?”

“Well, I cannot move them, no.”

“Allow me to rephrase; can you make them leave this area?”

“Oh? That little? Assuredly.”

“Right.” Weiss sighed. “Well, what do you need?”

“Point me at them, for starters. I shall need to be able to judge the distance for this to work the best.”

“What are you planning on?”

“Using illusions and loud noises. Not necessarily in that order.”

“Huh. I mean… go for it, I guess.”

Everyone gathered around to watch as Weiss turned Jaune around, so that his mirror was facing the crowd of people. It was going on nighttime, now, which meant it was dark enough that they went unnoticed. Whether or not that would hold when weird things started happening… well, Weiss could only hope.

Out of nowhere, there was a grand and powerful roar which swept through the courtyard that the ravers and the bullhead occupied. Each of them flinched, and looked to the sky, where it sounded as if the noise had come from.

And what they saw was, admittedly, rather intimidating.

For above them, hanging in the sky, was a Grimm dragon, much like the one that had assaulted Beacon.

All fifty people screamed. One of them then fainted. The other forty-nine abandoned that poor bastard and ran for their lives.

The dragon howled again, and then another time. It howled a third, final time, before it disappeared entirely, gone like the wind. This would’ve been odd for the people who’d seen it if any of them were still around. They were not, however.

“And that, I do believe, is a successful show!” Jaune sounded quite chuffed. “Shall we push onwards towards the bullhead?”

Weiss shrugged, and away they went.

“Well.” Robyn stated as she pressed a few buttons inside of the bullhead’s cockpit. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is the bullhead’s intact. The bad news is… I know how those partiers were getting all that power for their sound systems.”

“They were leeching it from the bullhead?” Weiss guessed.