Twenty Eight

I remember that party well, even now, with it so long in the past.

The party stretched on for a few more hours into the night, and I spent most of it with Cardin, his sister and, of all people I could have possibly passed so much time with, the infamous Atlesian princess herself. We mostly just talked about what had happened in Ansel, though that passed quickly into what happened at Patch, which was where I was happy to just let Cardin talk. I only ever set aside the seemingly endlessly refilling cup of sweet wine and the plate of sliced meat and fruits to really speak up when he started to… Embellish a bit more than I was comfortable with. Which was always when the man just scoffed and flicked each of the women a look that screamed 'he's ridiculous'. Which always made his sister giggle in that quiet way of hers…

It had, very genuinely, been one of the best nights of my life.

And the morning after? Well…

It was one of the worst.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Jaune rolled over and pressed his hands to the side of his head, groaning as the pressure did absolutely nothing at all for the pounding behind his eyes. Or the weird… Swelling feeling in his eyes. Like they'd been bruised, somehow, and that left them sensitive to the light coming in from the windows. Shaking the annoyance off, he forced himself to roll over and rubbed his eyes as he tried to stand, stumbled, and flopped back onto the bed.

Sighing, he groaned, "What the hell…"

A second later, he heard a quiet knock on the door and forced himself up as Kat stepped in, bowing in apology and making way for Cardin's armored bulk to come in. Smiling, he near-bellowed, "Morning, Brother!"

"Agh!" Jaune flinched, covering his ears and scowling. "Cut the yelling."

"Sorry, Brother, tradition." The man went on, laughing as he came over and sat beside him, pulling the small satchel off his waist and opening it. Looking up, he grunted, "Water, Chastened."

Normall, Jaune would have felt the urge to say something - to ask him to be more polite.

But all he could really do now was groan and hold his head. "What is this…"

"You drank last night."

"I've drunk before…"

"Not that much. And Valean sweet-wines can be surprisingly strong… If you're not used to 'em." Cardin chuckled, pulling out a little bowl about the size of his palm that he handed Jaune and made him cradle in the palm of a hand. Handing over a round-headed grinder, he held up some purplish leaves and said. "Got a trick right here for it, though."

"What are these?" The leaves were pronged, just a bit, and veined in a very light red he could just make out when it caught the light.

"Illegal." Jaune shot him a look and he snickered, "I mean, they are! They grow in Mistral mostly, see. When the ani- Faunus," the man amended with a sigh even though Jaune didn't give him a look, too focused on studying the leaves, "came over, they planted some of their own crops. Sorta… Spread along the southern reaches after that."

"But why are they illegal?"

"Church calls 'em 'stimulants' and 'pain killers'." He shrugged, "And addictive. But only if you use it a lot, and the rolls that the Faunus make with 'em to smoke use more than this. Grind the leaf up."

"If you're sure…"

"Oh, the mistrust! I am wounded!" He pouted pitifully, pressing the back of a gloved hand to his forehead dramatically and then scoffing. "Just do it, Arc. Trust me."

Jaune shrugged and, too tired and pained to argue, and got to work grinding the leaf up while they waited for Kat to return.

Which she did quickly, handing Cardin a deep cup of water and setting a jug of more on the ground by the bed. With that done, he waved her aside and she stepped back, dutifully waiting with her hands folded in front of her. And watching curiously while Cardin emptied the little bowl of ground up leaves into the water and used the narrow end of the flathead grinder to mix it all up. It left the water a weird, chalky sort of green, but when Cardin waved for him to Jaune sighed and took a drink.

It was bitter and grainy, and he choked on it as he gagged and turned, sputtering, to stammer, "W-What the hell-"

"It's medicine, it should taste awful." Cardin laughed, "Just drink it."

"I-If, um…"

"What is it?" Jaune choked out when Cardin scowled the Chastened into silence.

"Um… We do a similar thing- O-Or I mean, we did, in Menagerie. M-My parents taught me about it." She paused for a second, as if looking to see if either of them would punish her for mentioning her homeland like that, or ask after her parents to do the same. Neither of them did, of course, and she went on, "Well… If you mix a bit of sugar and some cinnamon into it, then it masks the flavor. Some juice can do for the texture, too."

"Juice like…?"

"O-Oh, uh, in Mistral they grind up fruit to make juices, the same way you make wine." She explained, "I believe you have them in festivals here, sometimes."

"Ah, you mean the fruit blends!" Jaune smiled, remembering the first time he'd gone to service at festival time and… "The only time I ever had one of those was when Port got me one. It was a festival in Ansel, a few years ago."

"I-I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." He waved her off, "Fetch what you can find and bring it here, please."

She nodded and scurried away.

About half an hour later, Jaune stepped through the front of the manor feeling… A lot better. The sun still stung a bit in his eyes, but his head wasn't pounding and his throat didn't feel quite as raw, and he didn't even feel nauseous like he had right after he drank Cardin's concoction anymore. It was cold out, with frost dancing across the plants so he'd left his armor behind but worn out his blue-and-black gambeson, adorned with his Shields, while Cardin marched along in full plate.

As they rode the same horses they'd come in with back up the path through the manors towards the city they'd passed through on the way in, he asked, "Why are you wearing all that in the city anyways?"

"First, bold of you to assume we don't need it in a city." Jaune gave him a look and he snorted, shaking his armored head, "Politics, Brother. Another House could, if they wished, hire someone to stick a knife in me while we're about. Or you, for that matter, though… No one wants the chaos that would bring."

"Why would I cause chaos and you wouldn't?"

"My family is the lesser, in story and in power." He shrugged, "You're the newly found heir- Well, head, now. Killing you would send shockwaves of panic through the peasantry and not one of the Houses wants to deal with that. Nor does the church, so…"

"They'd make finding the killer a priority."

"Or finding someone to blame." He nodded as they neared the inner wall. "Because something like that? Church will want- No, need it done and over fast."

He hummed, but didn't say much else as they came into the city and he let Cardin's horse take just a couple steps of a lead. It was still morning, and surprisingly early. Early enough that most who were on the streets were guards marching their rounds, Chastened readying for the day or a handful of men and women getting their own things ready. Most of these were at stalls, setting up their flaps on little wooden braces or inspecting fruit and vegetables as they set them out. For a second, he's surprised by how few of them have help - aside from their only children - but then he supposes that Chastened are expensive enough to be rare among the lower classes, even here.

He's struck by the irony of the thought almost as soon as he thinks it and sighs.

"So much has changed…"

Cardin cocks his head, waiting for more, but Jaune just purses his lips and eventually the man says, "Life is change, Brother. Aging, growing hair, building homes, having a family, dying- Every bit of it's change."

"I know." He sighed, "I just…"

"It's a lot, yeah." Cardin nodded, "I don't get it exactly, but… Coming from peasantry to this?"

"It's a hell of a change." Jaune nodded, feeling the least bit better for the sympathy. "Thanks, Cardin."

"Anytime, Brother." The larger man grunted, "For now, focus on the work."

"Speaking of…" He cocked his head, "What are we doing?"

"You need a cohort, Brother." Cardin answered cryptically, " And, lucky for you, I just so happen to know just the place to find you plenty of recruits for one."

"That's an incredibly helpful explanation…"

"I try, Brother, I try." Cardin laughed, "Just come on, it won't be long."

"I suppose I've no option…"

Eventually, he found himself following Cardin through the city to a wide, flat area with a round wall encircling a campus, according to Cardin. Five massive buildings, each as tall as the walls of the city themselves with sloped roofs topped by towers that rose even higher, topped by Dust crystals larger than any he'd ever seen that glowed in the noon light. At the center of the larger buildings, enclosed by a domed building just a hair taller than the others with its own huge tower reaching up towards the sky, was another, thicker tower with a wider roof over a glass walled something that Cardin explained when he asked was the office of the headmaster of the school.

"What school?" Jaune asked as they rode under an ancient looking gate that struck him as even older than the walls were, with cracked brick faces and thicker, wrought iron and dented gates.

"Vale's most prestigious academy for up and coming nobles, and anyone Light-touched they can find." Cardin chuckled as they passed through and came out on the roughly cobbled stones that lead in from the gate. To either side were huge fields fitted by copses of trees, fenced in with ancient, rusted iron and a smattering of smaller houses that lead up to, "Beacon Academy."

XxX----XxX----XxX

Blake watched the two Humans ride into the academy from atop one of the towers, kneeling behind one of the crenulations of the walkway just below the huge Dust-light, where the glare would make it hardest to see her. Even for the pitiable Marred that dedicated themselves more loyally to their captors, she'd be invisible. A smudge at best. Even so she felt…

Naked, standing in a the daylight, with the Dust-light washing away all of the shadows around her.

She turned as the door that lead out to this landing ground open on hinges older than she could trace her family line back through. The man that stepped out was dressed in the armor of a guard, and the scowl of her enemies, but he didn't say anything as she straightened and cocked her head, letting the white of her mask wash red in the crimson hue cast by the Dust light.

Finally, the young man asked, "You brought it?"

"I keep my bargains." She answered, setting the satchel of coin on the edge of the barriers encircling the platform. He took a step and she nudged it with a finger, "Do you?"

"Don't play games." He snapped, watching the coin purse more than her. She nudged it again, let it tip just the tiniest bit, and he snapped, "If that falls, then someone will-"

"Notice?" She hummed, "That isn't my problem. That will be yours, when someone notices you running down from this tower…"

She saw a lot run over his face, then. First anger but then, after a moment, realization. "That's why you picked here to meet… There's only one way up. I was probably noticed coming up as is. They'd know I was involved with that…"

"And the questions would be your damnation." She nodded. It was far from the only reason, or even the main one, for her choice. But letting him think it was all about him played to his ego. Ego and greed were what made this man.

And the silence she let linger unmade him, just enough for her needs.

"I brought it." He snapped hotly, fearfully, reaching behind his waist and pulling out a pair of metal cylinders he held up for her to see. "Deployment records for the Preying Eagle, and birth records for every village in the Ramus region. Why do you even need these?"

"We are paying you more than enough not to be asking such questions." She quipped, striding forward and snatching the cylinders from him. She looked at the door behind him and then met his eyes and he frowned and stepped aside, letting her step through with a murmured. "Ask more, and you'll learn how hard it is to fend off a Shadow."

"A wh-"

Before he could finish she let the shadows take her and left, slipping away into the cold comfort. She stepped out in an alleyway maybe a mile away and turned, pacing up it to a familia door marked out with a simple splash of mud with the three slashes of the Fang crossed through it. Subtle enough for most anyone to miss in a dark alley and, if they happened to find it…

Well, she didn't envy whoever thought to storm this hideout.

The stairs were steep, with a roof so low she had to duck, and the room was little better. Though she could at least stand straight in it. A few low, ragged couches were scattered around its edge, but she focused on the little stove in the center, ringed by low wooden stools. And the man who turned his hooded head, just a hair, at her entrance, one hand draped over the long hilt of the sword resting against the seat beside him.

"Iron Bull." She grunted quietly, "I have what you asked for."

"Good." He raised his other hand, though the first stayed on his sword. "And the informant?"

"Paid."

"Good." He repeated as she handed over the cylinders and paced to the other end of the cooking pit to sit. Quietly, he said, "Tonight, find him."

"And…?"

"That's a lot of wealth to suddenly come into." The man said, peeking out from under his hood, his mask, and smiling thinly. "How unfortunate for him that he… Let it slip, and someone just as greedy came to collect."

She frowned but nodded, "As you wish…"

He returned the gesture and waved at the stove, "I saved you fish and rice. Eat, rest, and get moving."

She nodded and reached for the food, glad for even just a few hours of rest.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Jaune stepped into the wide, open office at the top of the tower with Cardin right beside him and turned, looking up at the massive gears turned above him. Slowly, painfully grinding to… Whatever end they had. He couldn't begin to guess at it, or see a reason for it, beyond the white-faced thing that occupied much of the center of the ceiling, dotted by numbers and pock marks borne from time.

"What…"

"It is an old invention." A voice called as Jaune turned to face the desk, and the old man in his suit sitting there at the old, dark wood, hands folded behind a mountain of papers, scrolls and a heavy metal sconce holding a dark Dust-light that sat dim. Smiling, he leaned forward and sounded amused as he said, "A clock."

"A clock…"

"It tells the time." He shrugged, standing and stepping around the desk to offer his hand, "I am Ozpin and, among other things, serve as Headmaster of this institution. It's a pleasure, my Lord Arc."