The Games We Play

DISCLAIMER: This story is NOT MINE IN ANY WAY. That honor has gone to the beautiful bastard Ryugii. This has been pulled from his Spacebattle publishment. Anyway on with the show...errr read.

Headquarters

As I trekked deeper in the White Fang's hideout, I drew some stares—which was to be expected, I supposed, given the gore liberally painted over my skin. Before long, wisps of smoke began to rise from the Grimm remains, the last of their bodies slowly evaporating and leaving behind little more than clinging soot. I could imagine the image I presented, walking through the halls looking like that.

But I rolled with it, stalking my way through the complex as if I owned the place. I didn't make any sign of noticing my current state, much less being bothered by it, and though there were whispers…well, no one stopped me as I progressed further into the site. I assumed they recognized me.

I kept an eye out the entire way down. My senses, altered by the nature of my power, were one of my greatest advantages. I could read people's levels and names at a glance, pick up what should have been impossible to know details with a longer look, and spot signs of things long past from the invisible marks they left behind—and I put all of it to use. Home solely to the Faunus, there were no lights in the abandoned facility, but that didn't mean there was any less to be seen.

I memorized the names of those I passed so I would remember if I saw them elsewhere. Anyone with an unusually high rating got more focused attention as I skimmed their profiles for what made them stand out and whether or not I should be wary. The building offered up a great deal of information all its own; it was an abandoned facility from the time of the war that had fallen first to enemy forces and then to the creatures of Grimm. At some point, the White Fang had cleaned it out and put it to a new purpose—and not recently, either. This was something older, something established; I could tell at a glance that though they left most of them off, the base's systems were not just in working order, but far beyond what it would have had at the time of its creation. It had been refurbished and kept up to date since its reclamation.

And that…was a bit worrying. Though not right next to it, the base was still in relatively close proximity to the city and something like this, remodeling a fallen military base, would have taken a lot of time, effort, and, of course, money. The White Fang being capable of such a thing without drawing attention to themselves was concerning; all the more so for the vastly more likely explanation. That someone had noticed—had seen what was being done and hid it. Or perhaps even assisted it, funding the operation. That was easier to imagine but if so, it confirmed that someone in Mistral who had a lot of power had taken a role in ensuring things went smoothly.

There was a pretty short list of people it could be. I couldn't say I'd honestly doubted Adam when he claimed that the Families were involved—whatever else he may be, the man wasn't stupid—but this all but confirmed it. I didn't know enough about the internal politics of the White Fang or of Mistral, but…

Without a doubt, I needed to talk to my grandmother.

I didn't let any of those thoughts show on my face, staying calm and distant as I strode forward until I reached what seemed to be a heavily modified assembly hall or storage room; it was hard to tell, after the fact, but whatever it had been it now served as…

A very large but otherwise surprisingly mundane common room. Maybe it was a bit weird of me to never have thought about it, given that I'd assisted them before and all, but I'd never truly given much thought to what the White Fang did in their free time. I mean, I'd known logically that even people like Blake and Adam, highly trained operatives that were no doubt kept busy jumping from one mission to the next, couldn't work all of the time. Adam may have been content in his apparent lack of a life, but Blake at least had time to read occasionally, if he comments and actions were anything to go by. It stood to reason that other members of the White Fang would also have time to themselves—probably more time, if they weren't Hunter level fighters kept endlessly busy.

Nonetheless, the sight that welcomed me underneath the White Fang's hideout still felt bizarre. There were many pieces of mismatched furniture that looked like they'd been bought cheap or used, seemingly arranged with no rhyme or reason. Mats and rugs mimicked the trend, all but hiding the concrete floor in patterns for the garishly ugly to worn but beautiful. A fair number of lawn chairs were arranged unevenly around nearly two dozen tables of various shapes and sizes, covered in everything from the expected to the strangely mundane. Next to a table covered in guns and ammunition was one whose surface was nearly hidden by magazines with titles like 'The Fairest' and 'Ms. Mistral.' Set against the back wall was a set of roughly level tables that held up rows of water coolers and coffee pots, sandwiched on either end by two large refrigerators.

I walked into the room and just stared for a moment, feeling just a bit silly. To my left was a table with three muscular men and a young girl playing a board game of some kind, with cards and pieces and a map of Remnant—I didn't recognize it. Board games in my house had a tendency to devolve quickly into fighting games to the point that my only experience with chess was as a full contact sport. To my right was a semicircle of random loveseats and couches, arrayed around a large television beside a shelf of movies. Not too far away a girl with a handheld game was talking to a young woman doing her nails, both of whom seemed to be getting ignored by a third girl wearing headphones.

I could admit it; whatever I'd expected to find the White Fang doing in their downtime, it wasn't this.

"Surprised?" Adam whispered.

Of course, just because I could admit it to myself didn't mean I felt any need to do so out loud.

"Actually, this explains a lot about the White Fang." I mused back at him, looking around contemplatively. Adam snorted behind me.

"Oh, Mr. Taurus!" I heard a voice say and turned to find a scraggly looking guy with watery eyes staring at us. I could tell because he'd apparently pushed his mask up to put on some reading glasses and open a book. He blinked at us once and squinted at me before his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say…something. Whatever it was, what he actually said was 'Um. Um.'

I felt a little mean thinking it, but I couldn't help but wonder if Adam's 'become the monsters they'd made us out to be' explanation wasn't entirely accurate. I mean it sounded good, but looking at the young man in front of me—who looked young, for all that he was probably a few years older than me, and had a bad case of ache to prove it—if maybe the intimidation factor didn't have something to do with it. Because looking around, at the men and women with their uniforms off and their masks raised…they just looked like people.

Then again, I suppose that was what they were.

The young man, Beige, blinked owlishly at me for a few more seconds, feathered hair twitching as his gaze turned towards Adam.

"Um," He said. "Did something happen, sir? I mean, sirs."

"There was a problem outside," Adam said gruffly, but since he nodded in greeting towards Beige instead of dismissing him, I figured there was a story of some kind there.

"Um," He said again. Around us, I could see other people begin to look our way, the knowledge of our arrival rippling outwards until everyone knew. "Could you define problem?"

"Grimm," Adam replied bluntly, scanning the crowd.

"Oh," Beige said. "Right. Problem. Are they, uh…?"

He trailed off as Adam left, making a bee line for someone—Blake, I saw after a moment. Beige glanced at me, apparently considering asking, before thinking better of it.

"Do not be concerned," I told him. "It's dealt with."

He looked me over, probably noting the stains, and nodded quickly. I returned the gesture more calmly and then followed my friend at a sedate pace. Other members of the White Fang saw me and tracked me as I crossed the floor, some almost rising to greet me, some almost shrinking away, but none approaching me. In the end, that was probably for the best, here and now—that I be a distant, mysterious figure, but one who's image represented confidence and power.

Because that's what it always seemed to boil down to, wasn't it? Image, identity, resemblance, and expression. I was the tiger, king of the jungle—untouched for all that I was soaked in blood. But it was their enemy's blood and that was what mattered. That they knew there was nothing to fear out there. That they understood they were safe, behind a mighty, invincible warrior.

And if that was a lie, it was a lie that had protected the people of Remnant for generations. It wasn't enough to push back the assaults of the Grimm, for that the seeds of dread and fear would only draw more—you had to crush them, cut them down like stalks of wheat and make it obvious you could do it a thousand times. And if that was a lie? Then you lied, because telling the truth was far worse.

"Adam," I heard Blake say as she looked up from her book. "Where did you—"

She cut herself off, lifting her gaze to look at me. She stared hard for a moment before shifting to look towards Adam for a second, mouth twisting with a desire to say something about it—but she hesitated. She wouldn't risk making a scene and saying the wrong thing here in front of a crowd of people and Adam knew it. For a moment, I thought she wouldn't say anything at all, that she'd let things pass begrudgingly, but her lips twitched once and she met Adam's hidden eyes.

"You shouldn't have brought him into this," She whispered and I muffled the sound further with Levant to keep things private, just in case. "Not again."

Adam shrugged one shoulder in reply, not flinching.

"I did anyway," He said. "If something's happening, he deserves to know. Especially if…"

"Know what?" I asked him through Levant, not bothering to move my lips. I saw his ear twitch once at the sound, but his face turned slightly so that he was looking towards a door set off to the side of the room.

"I'm not sure," Adam said, keeping his voice low enough that only Levant should be able to pick it up. Blake closed her eyes and looked away. "But when you fought, there was a reaction—more than there should have been. Whatever's happening has something to do with you and your family, Jaune. And it's something big, something…I don't know what you'll find or what will happen afterwards. But I figured you deserved the chance to find out. You can still back out."

"Meh," I replied distractedly as Levant's power expanded through the space around us, mixing with the air as it came under her influence and crept swiftly towards the door. "Leave now? It's just getting interesting."

Adam snorted again, a bull-like sound and I made my 'tone' more serious.

"Thanks," I said. "For the heads up."

"Can you hear them?" He asked after a moment. "The room's soundproof."

"Noticed," I muttered back as Levant detected barely anything from the door—and with what could have been a shrug, promptly reached out to grasp the air on the other side. The voices came to me immediately, filling my ears as Levant mirrored them on this side of the wall. "Not a problem."

"—His name is Jaune Arc."

There was a short silence I used to fill the other side of the room with Levant's power, making the sound clearer. Stripping off my still dirty cloak, I took a seat in the chair beside Blake's, mind focused elsewhere as my body went through the motions. I heard something that might have been a click and then the voice continued.

"Yes," Another voice said impatiently. "But is he…?"

"The son of Jacques and Isabelle Arc. Yes."

Someone exhaled slowly.

"You're sure she's Isabelle Roma?"

"As sure as I possibly can be. It was hidden well and she never made a fuss about it in public, but…yes. There's evidence to support it and it's unlikely to be a coincidence."

"Do we know who hid it?" A third voice inquired.

"Does it matter?" Asked a forth.

"Possibly. It could tell us something about her allies and how powerful. Whoever they are, they've kept this hidden for quite some time."

"There was chaos during and after Mistral's Civil War, especially when it was followed so swiftly by Menagerie. Countless people moved between the Kingdoms to escape for conflict; moving a single girl would have taken no great effort—and there were bigger concerns then making sure every single refugee was who the claimed to be. Remember…what was his name? The serial killer that moved to Vacuo?"

"William Blut," A voice answered. "But the situations differ. He was quiet for a long, long time and when he resumed his…activities, well, he was caught in short order, wasn't he? Going unnoticed among thousands upon thousands of other refugees is one thing, especially when the situation is chaotic. Staying that way for a long period of time is quite another. If she were living in some village off the edge of Vale, you might have a point, but she was a Hunter. A famous Hunter, active for decades across the Kingdoms, without so much as changing her first name—an old name, at that. Certainly, many have begun to stray from the color trend nowadays, but go back…twenty? Thirty? Thirty years and a name like Isabelle would have stood out, however famous Lady Elizabeth had been. Yet no one made the connection? Or do you believe he doesn't know?"

There was another pause, but I felt motion through Levant. Someone shaking their head? Making some kind of gesture at least. There were less people in the room then there were voices, so I assumed that some of them were communicating electronically. I could feel a few things I thought might have been hologram sets, but that didn't allow me to judge their body language. I made do with what I could feel, focusing on those in the room itself.

"No, you're right," A voice said. "At the very least, we can assume that Ozpin knows. The girl, Isabelle, would she have…would she have already attended Haven? If not, she'd have been on a team in Vale for at least four years; that's a lot of time to keep secrets and most children grow to trust one another, given time. That's probably at least four more. And her husband surely knows and the children…who else? Family friends? Past lovers? More? And yet we only find out about this now. I think we're all aware of how…fun it is to keep secrets after telling large amounts of people, so it occurs to me that going unnoticed for decades might have been difficult."

"And that's assuming that no one else found out. Knowledge tends to spread, however hard people fight to resist—yet this did not? No…fan boy or girl invested absurd amounts of time into examining every aspect of her history? Unlikely. There are forces at work; an extraordinarily good cover, at the very least, and probably someone silencing things for a time, one way or the other. In the aftermath of the Revolution, things could have been buried more definitely, but before that…"

"There was definitely something keeping her hidden. Hopefully, it was simply the Lupa, but given their reputation, we must at least consider the possibility that Ozpin was involved, in which case…"

"…There's not enough information to say yet. It was most likely Jeanne Roma's work, but we'll keep in mind the possibility. More importantly, what does this mean for us? How much does this change things for us?"

"It's…concerning," One of them admitted. "Perhaps a great deal; potentially not at all. Though her mother has ruled as long as anyone remembers, Isabelle Arc is the technical heir of the Roma family."

"And absent from it for decades and purportedly despises her mother," Another reminded dismissively. "What loyalty would any of them have for her?"

"And yet, here she is, staying in her mother's house—and her son certainly seemed close enough to his grandmother."

"But she left quickly, leaving her son behind. The fight was halted by her as well, implying it occurred without her knowledge or consent. I don't think her presence in the She-wolf's house should be taken as an implication of closeness—at least, not between the two of them."

"Yes," A firm voice interrupted. "Isabelle Roma is, by all appearances, loyal to Ozpin and opposed to her mother. While it could be fabricated, evidence supports their being conflict between them even before she disappeared. She may be the 'heir,' but it's nothing but a word if it's not supported by reality. Given that, I think we can write her off as the primary threat in this regard. The issue is the grandchildren."

"The many, many grandchildren." Another added, voice wry.

"What was it? Seven granddaughters in addition to this grandson?"

"Yes. Hunters, all of them, and close to their grandmother. We didn't know their relationship until now, but looking back…they all spent significant time in the area, working under or near her. Now, her grandson appears to fight in the tournament, beginning with a display of power that should be far beyond someone who hasn't even attended a Hunter's Academy—who'd failed to gain entry into a combat school, even."

There were several disbelieving sounds in response to that. I took to chance to return my attention to my body and glance around absently. I was leaning forward, on elbow on a knee, while Blake and Adam positioned themselves to talk quietly beside me, making it look as though I were listening to them absently. No one else deigned to approach us, though several had wandered in our direction, taking seats positioned such that they were nearby without actually being close before returning to their own activities.

"She must have been planning this for a long time. Keeping them a secret, preparing them…"

"It's hardly a surprise in hindsight. We knew from the beginning that she wouldn't just sit idly by while her powerbase deteriorated. That she had grandchildren in play…it changes things, but it's not complete unexpected. What we need to ask ourselves is 'Why here?' and 'why now?' If she's been preparing her grandchildren for this, she wouldn't reveal that fact unless she was ready to see things through. The question is, what is she planning?"

"A power play?"

"At a time like this? It seems…"

"No, you're right; there's no reason for her to do such a thing now, considering—"

"A statement, then? In comparison, Cynosarges's grandson…even his goddaughter was matched by her youngest. With seven already trained as Huntresses, this generation would seem to favor the wolves. Since the Civil War, Alexandria has been in charge, but with this…"

"That's long term, though."

"Is it? Times are changing and she knows it better than anyone. As things are now, with such a display of power…"

"Worse, if Jeanne decides on a path, Cynosarges will support her—the wolf and the lion hunt together."

There were mutters of agreement at that, drawing back to the point.

"What matters then, as before, is what this means for us." A voice brought them back on topic. "How bad will it be? How bad could it be? Will it be bad at all?"

"…If we assume that she will pick a new heir from amongst her grandchildren, perhaps not. We don't have enough information on them to tell yet, but Jeanne wouldn't choose a fool to lead the Family, nor one who she believed would ruin what she worked for. If this is a show of power, it's possible it was not meant for us—or, if it was, meant as nothing more than a reminder of who we're dealing with. But we hadn't forgotten, had we?"

There was a murmur of agreement.

"What do you propose, then?"

"Patience. Caution. Whether it's a warning, a threat, or simply a display, there does not seem to be any reason for her to betray us—therefore, I would recommend we wait and see. There's no benefit in doing something rash, especially when it's needless, so why do anything without further information. She has her affairs and we have ours; if she chooses to elect a successor, we'll trust her judgment and support her decision, at least for now. If this is something more than that and she wishes to move…well, we can't very well decide what we'd do in that case without anything to go on, can we? But she wouldn't ruin something that benefits her."

"Yes; we can trust in that, if nothing else. We'll be polite, then?"

"Like civilized human beings."

Those words got a quiet chuckle from the hidden room.

"We'll meet with her soon, regardless. Should circumstances allow, we'll make an inquiry. In the meantime, there's still much for us to do."

"Yes. What's next on the agenda? Finances or advertising?"

There was a quiet shifting a cloth and a quiet beep.

"—Ah. A moment, my friends. She's messaged me."

"Oh?" One of the voices seemed worried. "Is it…"

"No, nothing so dire. Rather—"

There was silence for a second.

"She's here," The voice said. "And so is Jian Bing."

I returned to myself in an instant but didn't react otherwise, didn't look up. Instead, without even moving, my senses expanded outwards. I drew up all my Elementals, let light and color swim freely across my vision beneath the full, disorienting might on my Clairvoyance, and drew the entirety of my combat power around me. Invisible currents of air, flows of heat, water vapor, and electromagnetism stood out bright and clear in my mind's eyes, even as time slowed to a crawl around me.

There were things that could hide themselves well—that could become invisible and mask their scent and more. Done right and too the right person, all of a human's senses could be fooled.

But I had a few more than that.

I didn't even twitch as that happened—I stayed as I was, leaning slightly forward, resting an arm on a leg as I looked at Adam as he told his story about some mission or other. It was a short thing that he didn't go to detail on, so he swiftly reached the end of the tale, but each sentence seemed to drag out endlessly. Even so, I waited until he was done.

Then, I spoke, moving nothing but my mouth.

"There's no need for you to stand there, friend. Come sit with us." I spoke to the woman behind me, who hadn't been there until after the words were finished. There was a shift in the air behind me, a sudden access to air that hadn't been there before, and what seemed like everyone in the room suddenly turned to look behind me.

Everyone but me. I wanted to, but appearances were more important, so even as…whatever the hell was going on behind me happened, I stayed as I was, not moving until…

"Hello," A woman's voice said. "Jian Bing."

When she addressed me, I turned to look her way. I was calm and casual as I did so, going so far as to put an arm over the back of the chair as I glanced the woman over.

What I saw surprised me, though I didn't show it. Most of it, I noticed only in the periphery of my vision—long black hair and clothes in red and black; miniskirt and thigh-high boots and a strange looking weapon at her hip—because my eyes were drawn immediately to her face.

Or rather, to the mask covering her face.

"Hello," I replied. "Raven Branwen."

Ties

The atmosphere in the room changed in an instant, sharpening enough that for a moment I thought I could feel it as her attention fell solely on me. She took a step around the chair, four eyes focusing hard on my hidden face, her body language almost threatening.

I didn't back down. I didn't dare to—didn't dare reveal I was anything but confident and powerful, especially after the move I'd just pulled. I stood my ground and watched her approach, forcing an amused twist to my lips as I waited casually in my chair, sitting as she stood and trying to look like I was in control.

"No one has called me by that name in a long, long time," She said, something lurking beneath the words. A warning? A threat? Whatever it was, it faded quickly back into seeming apathy—but it had been there. She'd been surprised that I'd known her name, had been…something. She'd reacted to the words Levant had whispered in her ear and I felt abruptly glad I'd had Levant carry the words to her ear and no one else's. "You know a great deal, Jian Bing."

"Oh, was it a secret?" I chuckled quietly, unable to muster up much mirth. "My apologies, then, friend. I hadn't noticed."

I brought up a leg, resting an ankle on a knee, a knee on an armrest, an elbow on a knee. I rested my face in my open hand, expression amused and relaxed as I gazed up at her.

?

LV?

Raven Branwen

I had to be careful. Right off, I could be sure of several things. From past observation, I was pretty sure I could see the information of those up to fifty levels above me—that I could not see this woman's put her, bare minimum, at eighty-two. Probably higher, I mused, judging her. Just standing in front of her prickled at my danger sense fiercely, warning me of a threat. Except…it wasn't like someone was about to shoot me—that was a sharp, sudden warning, like an alarm going off in my head. It wasn't even that she might have been angry, though that increased the sensation. Instead…this was something more subdued, more prolonged; an indication of potential danger. Simply standing in front of this woman was hazardous to my health.

Even so, I didn't back down or show fear; I met her eyes as if I were her equal, however certain I was that she wasn't. I had to. A simply glance was all I needed to be sure that this woman was dangerous beyond words—even if levels were, at their most basic level, extremely uninformative, a difference this large…

If this came to a fight, I couldn't imagine enjoying it. If she was as strong as my mother—or, worse, stronger—than fighting would end badly. And yet, in a situation like this, backing down or submitting probably wouldn't end much better. It was strange, but I didn't dare risk running from a fight I couldn't win. But if I couldn't fly and couldn't fight, what did that leave me?

Nothing.

Except my image.

Her mask covered the whole of her face my mine left my mouth visible and so I smiled. I played my role like it was my only line of defense—not just for Raven, but for the crowd gathered around us, watching every move. I stayed seated to avoid looking like the aggressor, but remained confident to avoid looking weak as I returned her stare. Four to four, our eyes met from behind stark white masks, the red standing out like blood against them. A Grimm mask, like a hundred others in the room, but far more elaborate—a sign of rank, I assumed. I wasn't sure how the White Fang used the things, but I'd seen the difference in design between prospective and actual members, as well as between members and…whatever the hell Adam counted as. I'd seen one or two other masks of a similar style, always in the possession of people with higher levels than those around them. Lieutenants and leaders, I imagined, marked such by masks that truly resembled the Grimm.

But her mask…

Whatever the case, ours looked similar, in their own way—thankfully. It gave the completely false impression that I fit into the ranks, that we were peers. Raven probably knew better, but those around us…and she couldn't very well reveal that I wasn't a part of the White Fang as such, could she? No, not after everything I'd done for it, what I'd done. Failure could be decried, but success? That was somewhat harder. But then, what would I do?

"Teacher," Adam said, standing as I did my utmost not to look his way. Instead, I remained focused on the woman in front of me, unchanging even as she slowly drew her eyes away from me and looked at my friend.

"We didn't expect you," Raven said at last. "In fact, we'd been informed you would be busy."

"Oh?" I asked, chuckling softly. "Well, I suppose that was true. But things have a tendency to resolve themselves around me—I was lucky enough to wrap things up in time."

"And quickly enough to travel all the way to Mistral," She noted.

"I like to consider myself an expert on intercontinental transport," I said and smiled slightly as the words drew a few chuckles from the younger members—chuckles that quickly died, assassinated by the atmosphere in the room. Or maybe they were just scared by where they stood—between someone I assumed to be one of the higher ranking members of the White Fang and the internationally infamous Jian Bing. I could see the anticipation on their faces with my alarmingly sharp peripheral vision, the interest and wonder and fear. Who were we? Did we know one another? Were we friends? Enemies? And, perhaps most importantly of all, were we about to fight?

God, I hoped not. I couldn't imagine that going well for me right now—I mean, God, had I seen this coming or what? I'd told Adam.

"So I've heard," Raven said, feathers—heh—unruffled as she turned back to me. "And exterminating pests, evidently."

"You had a bit of an infestation," I replied, brushing Grimm ash from a pectoral. "I happened to notice several of our fellows having trouble dealing with it and offered a hand."

"What a gentleman," She said.

"Oh?" I asked, closing my eyes as I stood at complete and utter ease. "Really…I wouldn't say that. It was nothing worth mentioning. Right?"

Unlike my own, her mask hid the whole of her face—but a part of me suspected she might have smiled very, very slightly at that. The tingling warning against me senses deepened.

She glanced Adam's way and he stepped aside allowing her to take a seat beside me.

"Not remotely," She answered as she reclined easily, at ease. Adam stood between us, uncomfortably if the pulsing vein at his jaw was anything to go by. She lifted a hand and sent everyone back to their seats with a snap of her fingers, though all eyes were still on us. She knew that as well as I did, so she didn't want privacy for this, per se…but then what was she planning? I could have silenced the area around us with Levant, but for now, at least, I benefited from the audience as well. "Whatever the case, I'm glad you could make it, Jian. Your timing is impeccable."

I gestured at her dismissively and looked at Adam and Blake out of the corner of my eye, watching them react to the words—a nearly simultaneous twitch of the lips and ears, a tightening of Blake's mouth.

"Just lucky," I replied, tilting my head slightly in my friends' direction. "Thank you, as always, for lending me your student's talents. He's been lending me his assistance in this regard as well."

I had no idea what 'this regard' was, but Raven nodded shallowly in acceptance.

"I should thank you, as well," She replied. "It seems you had to pull him out of trouble."

Adam grunted, sounding annoyed, but he swallowed it at a glance from his apparent teacher.

"You've done a lot to assist your brothers in the White Fang and outside it. Given your presence, I take it you will be assisting us again?"

Ah. Of course. She was trying to trap me the same way I had trapped her, binding me with the expectations of the crowd. Reputation was something that could cut both ways, serving as both a burden and a weapon, but she…

Off to the side, I saw Blake close her eyes, expression pained but resigned. Adam, for his part, gave me a long look I could interpreted until I Observed him and understood what he was trying to say.

I chuckled, refusing to let my composure fade, and she nodded once, apparently satisfied, and rose as the door to the sound-proofed room opened. A tall, tanned man with golden eyes peered at us with a frown.

"We'll be working together, then?" I asked her with a smile. "The Tiger and the Raven?"

"Of course," She said as a swirling red gate whirled into existence beside her. "I'll be in touch, Jian."

We have a lot to talk about. The words reached me, as if whispered in my ear, but I knew she didn't say them out loud.

That was my trick, I thought a bit petulantly, though I didn't so much as twitch at the words. Instead, I waved her goodbye from my chair and smiled, though I had to struggle to keep my smile in place when a quest window appeared in front of me—the first in a long time and I could already tell it was gonna suck.

A quest has been created!

The Vanguard of the White Fang: The Dogs of Mistral!

Establish the power of the White Fang within the Kingdom of Mistral! Time Limit: One week.

Completion Reward: 20000000, Increased closeness with the White Fang, Increased closeness with Blake Belladonna, Increased closeness with Adam Taurus, Increased closeness with Raven Branwen, Increased closeness with Jeanne Roma, ?

Failure: Penalties dependent on time of failure, Decreased closeness with the White Fang..

I scanned the vague quest, took a breath, and nodded slightly to myself. I considered my options quickly before rising in turn, all eyes on me. I wish I could say I was surprised things had gotten so complicated so quickly, but I really wasn't. Still, I knew I needed to act both quickly and intelligently—and I knew where to start. Raven's…interruption aside, one thing stood out from the conversation I'd listened to, and it made the oddity on the quest sheet standout all the more so.

I needed to know more before I did anything.

I needed to talk to my grandmother.

I left the White Fang compound immediately, cloak sweeping around me once more. Gazes stayed on me and murmurs followed wherever I went as speculation abounded and spread like wildfire. I could see them wonder and whisper about what had just occurred, what we were doing, and what might happen next. They were curious, of course; excited. Raven must have expected that after what she'd done, especially her entrance and exit—and if she expected it and allowed it, did she plan for it? Was this part of her scheme, whatever it was?

There was no way of knowing yet, but I walked through the compound with fearless confidence, staring forward with an anticipatory smile on my lips. Whatever happened, I had to look the part of Jian Bing and show my best face to the onlookers, so I did. Even if…

I was nervous. I could admit that easily enough, even if it didn't fog my thoughts—I had gotten wrapped up in something big again, something I could barely grasp the full extent of. The White Fang and Raven, the Families and my grandmother, Ozpin and my mother, and there was still an unknown party at work behind the scenes. Things were happening in Mistral that were just…

Goddamn. This city.

The only way I was going to get out of this was by being smart and cautious—which was really the same thing, in this case. There was too much I didn't know, too much I couldn't know, too much I feared; there was too much for me to handle by myself. God, I didn't even know where to start with this mess.

I needed help. If I was going to get through this, I needed help.

Fortunately, I had some. Without a word, Adam and Blake followed my lead as I departed, staying on my heels. I knew without asking that they had my back, whatever happened—we may not have known each other long, may not have even spent that much of that time together, but we'd gone through a lot. I wouldn't say they'd do anything for me, but they were my friends and they'd follow me into danger. I wasn't doing this alone.

Unfortunately, they weren't the kind of help I needed right now. I mean, it was always nice to have some backup ready and willing to kick someone's teeth in if they offered me violence and Adam and Blake were good for that, generally speaking. They also had plenty of skills of their own to help me on other fronts, but…I had a sneaking suspicion that if this situation devolved into violence—which it very well might, given how generally awful it seemed to be—they wouldn't accomplish anything but dying beside me. We were getting involved in something a bit above our pay grade here; I couldn't even see the levels of most of the major players involved. As strong as I was now, as competent as my friends were, if this degenerated, there wouldn't be enough left of us to fill a lunchbox.

I needed the help of someone with the power to change that. My mother sprang instantly to mind—but just as quickly fell away. What were the odds that with everything going on, Mom's mission was completely unrelated to this? Pretty goddamn low, I figured; odds were that if this wasn't the focus of her trip, it was at least a major aspect of it. Given that the mission had likely come from Ozpin, it seemed fairly safe to assume that she was sent to either spy on or put an end to whatever was happening. If I told her what was going on, she'd check things out and get involved.

There were a few problems with that, though. If she knew the White Fang were involved—and it seemed pretty safe to assume she did; with an organization as large as the White Fang, I struggled to believe no one had given anything away—then that meant she hadn't told me despite the amount of sway she knew I had with the White Fang; she didn't want to involve me or put me in danger. I understood that completely, especially given what I'd just seen. I even appreciated it. In all honesty, the idea of calling in a rescue from Super Mom was pretty tempting. But…

I wasn't going to lie. Loyalty was a part of it. I couldn't simply betray the White Fang at the drop of a hat, after everything I'd seen—not with my friend's involved and so little knowledge of what was going on. Even if there was a part of me that wanted to and another part pointing out the merits of the idea, I couldn't just sic my mom on this. That had probably been another part of her motivation in keeping me uninvolved, even beyond the personal danger—she didn't want to force me to choose. And I…the White Fang did a lot of things, many of them horrible. It did things I couldn't support. It even did things that, if I was there, I would stop. But at the same time, I understood why they did those things and could see the results. Even if there were things I couldn't condone, I couldn't condemn the organization as a whole, either. Without any idea what was happening, I didn't feel comfortable making that decision.

So yeah, my divided loyalties were definitely part of it. That was why I'd originally avoided prying into my mom's business, after all. But beyond that…if my Mom got involved directly, acted on what I told her…

I wasn't sure she could defeat Raven.

That was a bit of a new feeling for me. I mean, I'd known logically that she wasn't the strongest person in the world or anything, but I was used to seeing her and Dad as unbeatable, believing they weren't in any danger. A lot of that was a child's need to believe that, I knew now, but that didn't make it any less true. But the reality of the situation was that they risked their lives for a living. If Ozpin had sent her, if this was as big as I thought and she decided it was worth the risk of getting involved…

My mom was strong, but when I'd first seen Raven …I hadn't known who she was or what she could do, but the feeling I'd gotten off of her…

Call it instinct or observation, but I'd known she wasn't someone to be messed with lightly.

It got worse the more I learnt about her, too. I didn't pretend to know the full extent of Raven's abilities, but even what little I'd seen was enough to make me really, really worried. She'd created portals. She'd spied on me through them, apparently invisible to everyone but me, watching everything that happened—and I'd only noticed thanks to the extreme nature of my many senses and a hint to start looking. But now I had to wonder…Had she spied on me before? Had she seen something? What did she know? What were the limits to that ability?

I had no idea, which was rather terrifying. I wouldn't be able to tell until, bare minimum, I was within fifty levels of her and could Observe it—something I was now making a major priority. Whatever happened, I wasn't going to be able to rest easily until I could be sure she wasn't watching my every move. Even now, I was unleashing the full breadth of my senses constantly, painful as it was, just to make sure she wasn't there. At the very least, if she did spy on me, I'd know.

But my mom…

It was hard to believe I would ever have to protect her, but…God, it wasn't hard to imagine what Raven could do if she wanted to. Even if my mom could win a fight with her, which I wasn't sure she could, all it would take was a portal into her bedroom while she was asleep and…

I couldn't tell my mom. If I did and she got involved, if something drew attention her way…

My hand clenched into a fist. I knew what was happening and was well aware of the irony of the situation—wondering about the limits of a mysterious person's powers and worrying about the implications. Even so…I had to be wary of Raven. I couldn't risk my mom becoming a target, even if I knew she was good at her job. If something went wrong, I'd never forgive myself.

So I went to my grandmother instead.

I wasn't blind. I loved my grandmother, there was no doubt about that. Whatever her past, whatever her flaws, she had always loved me unconditionally and been kind to me. But I knew what she did for a living—what she had done, what she could do. I'd also gotten a glimpse of how…complicated the situation in Mistral was, granted, but…

But my grandmother was a very scary woman. Smart, ruthless, pragmatic, and scary.

Which was exactly what I needed. I could be sure that if I told her about Raven—if she didn't already know—she'd be appropriately cautious, wouldn't risk her life for a mission or beliefs. She had a lot more power and authority in Mistral than my mother did, too; reach, options, and a history of…a lot of things. Perhaps even more so, she was already involved in this and I needed to warn her if I could. I'd like to warn my mom, too, but I wasn't sure how to do so without risking her getting involved. If I told grandmother, though, then perhaps she could waylay her without tipping her off.

I had to believe that.

And so over the river and through the woods, to grandma's house I went.

"Wait here," I said as we came to the outskirts of my grandmother's property. "Try not to cause any trouble, either; there's a lot of security, even if you can't see it."

Adam grunted and leaned back against a tree even as Blake found a place on a tree branch above. I gave them a glance to make sure they were safe, removed my title to return to normal, and then circled the property to enter through the front door. A pair of guards watched me silently, the twin's eyes glowing eerily as they identified me. But they didn't say anything, nor did they stop me as I entered, so I just nodded at them once and searched for my grandmother.

She wasn't in the dining room, where I'd last seen her. I didn't find her in the living room or her office as I walked by, either, but I followed the prints my Clairvoyance revealed, tracking her down the hall and a flight of stairs.

From there, I could just…follow the noises. I found her in what seemed like a…I had no idea what it was, to be honest. There were what seemed to be extra-large grow lights, sprinklers, some kind of strange, indoor irrigation system, hooks, freezers, various bladed instruments, and more, like someone had decided to convert a slaughterhouse into a garden. The situation I walked in on seemed to support this.

"—Ah, you're back, Jaune. Did you have a nice trip?" My grandmother asked as she blinked sleepily at me, rubbing an eye with the back of a hand. The other held a long skewer impaled through a slab of still oozing meat that she held above the large ceramic pot that housed Autumn.

She'd changed since I'd last seen her, though that wasn't that unusual for a shape-shifting plant hybrid. Admittedly, the form she'd adopted now, I'd only seen once before—and even then, it had only been a glimpse, back when she'd first experimented with her ability to transform. A serpentine form leading smoothly up to an eyeless head with a mouth filled with enormous, wicked teeth, four of which were especially pronounced and jutted out like tusks even when her mouth closed.

Except last time, she hadn't had seven of them.

Autumn's heads rose up to the bloody slab of meat, sinking dagger-like teeth into its side and hooking tusks between and under ribs before pulling, struggling hard for a moment before ripping loose mouthfuls of flesh and bone. Jaws strained and bones cracked, scattering blood and chunks of meat, before scarfing down the rest in a fit of wild chewing. Occasionally, a head literally bit off more than they could chew and another head would come to its aid, biting into the piece so they could tear it apart by main force.

Beneath the hungry display, Gou stood on his back legs, front paws on the edge of Autumn's pot as he panted happily up at her. Occasionally, one of the blind heads would find their way down to him and open their mouth wide—wide enough to swallow the puppy whole, if it wanted to. And yet, without the slightest trace of fear, Gou would stick his own head into that mouth, worrying at the strips of ragged flesh caught between enormous teeth. Autumn's head would wait patiently until he was through and then return to the feast. Sometimes, the ravenous heads would even discard small bones instead of devouring them, casting them aside for Gou to chase and gather proudly into a little pile.

I just…stared at that for a moment.

"Um," I said, abruptly filled with doubts.

"She was hungry," My grandmother said, which I was certain was nowhere near the whole story. Through it all, she held the skewer perfectly still as seven heads tore it to pieces, reducing it to spare bits of meat clinging to a stick. When the heads proceeded to try to chew on the stick as well, she put a hand on one of the heads and Autumn stilled before reverting to her rose form. Gou sniffed at her eagerly. "Did something happen? You were gone longer than I expected. Grigio said your mother spoke to him as well, but she hasn't come back yet, either."

I looked at her for a moment longer before nodding to myself and putting the sight before me aside for the moment. I took a deep breath and allowed myself a moment more for doubts. I loved my grandmother, but…well, the reason for the 'but' was rather self-evident. Nonetheless…

I scanned the room quickly with my many senses—and wow, learned a lot of things about this room I'd rather have not—before exhaling slowly when it seemed clear.

"Have you ever heard of a woman named Raven Branwen?"

My grandmother froze.

My grandmother. Froze.

"Where did you hear that name?" She demanded, voice going low.

"I met her," I said before taking a bracing breath. "Grandmother…I'm Jian Bing."