"Thanks mister!" shouted the wide-eyed child, clutching his new wooden sword with both hands.

"Heh, don't worry about it." chuckled Jaune, rubbing the back of his head as he watched the kid dash back to the rear of his parent's wagon, waving it and yelling war cries at his sisters peaking out the back.

The man driving the wagon laughed heartily at the display, while his wife next to him merely rolled her eyes with a smirk.

"Don't find too many friendly faces these days, especially on the roads. We appreciate the gift, stranger." said the man, a few pronounced wrinkled on the mans weathered face growing with his smile.

"Times are hard everywhere, might as well do what I can to make it easier." said Jaune, closing a large backpack and slinging it over his shoulders.

"Ha! I'm sure you do a lot of it with that sword of yours, don't 'cha?"

"Less than you'd think nowadays." Jaune patted Crocea Mors, at his hip as it always was, "Though, you think you'll be fine alone out here? I cleared the few Grimm that I came across but..."

"Pay us no mind, most of 'em are cleared out around these parts, and the only thing to watch out for are any bandits dumb enough to attack us. Ol' Maddy here is Huntress-trained!"

Maddy, who was anything but old, whacked the man across the head with a gloved hand, frowning as he chortled to himself regardless.

The scene put a faint smile on Jaune's face as he nodded, walking off down the road with a wave towards the children in the wagon. One particular face pushed himself past all the rest, shouting a war cry as he waved his wooden sword.

Soon the rattling of the wagon disappeared among the noises of the wilderness, and Jaune finally let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Adjusting the straps on his pack, he followed the gnarled and slightly overgrown path deeper into the woods.

It had been a long time since Jaune found himself back in Vale. By the end of the war, every other continent seemed preferable. The creature comforts of the cities disappeared with the rest of it, so it wasn't as if there was much allure in trying to find his way back to Beacon. Not that anything worthwhile would be left there anyways, other than rotting desks.

Atlas was his first choice, being the place he woke up in after the survivors dragged him from the rubble of Salem's tower. Weiss had offered him a place to stay, out in a northern SDC mining colony. The city had apparently fallen within an hour of them putting Salem down for good, with every possible Grimm going through some kind of final bloodlust. Everyone who survived was heading up north, where the isolation and security of the outpost would have prevented them from being overrun.

But it didn't work out, and so he found himself in Vacuo, wandering the deserts. The people had been scattered, and as a result only Shade academy had gone up in smoke. He found tribes wandering around and trying to form some sort of large tribe again all across the desert. None seemed worth joining in Jaune's opinion, knowing first hand how to spot a suicide mission.

The ruins of the wilderness weren't half as eye-opening or uplifting as he had thought they would be, sadly. Turns out a country full of testaments to failed civilizations wasn't exactly positive.

After nearly drowning in a sail boat, Jaune found himself in Mistral. It was anarchy, to say the least. Every person of every creed had turned on his brother or sister, each trying to scrape together some kind of safety. Warlords clashed daily, slaughtering each other over meager resources while the weak found themselves clasped in chains. He did what he could, bringing down the monsters of people that cried havoc across the lands whenever he found them. Some were good nature, though pragmatic and brutal to protect their charges. Those ones offered him a life of pleasure if he swore fealty, and Jaune always declined.

One too many had fallen on Jaune's blade for some of the despots apparently, as a few of them banded together to hunt him down before he could take them out one by one. They didn't count on him knowing how to fly a Bullhead though, nor on him having that good of a throwing arm.

And so he found himself in Vale, wandering as far as he could away from Vale. Never even set eyes on its ruins, so dedicated was he to putting it behind him as he walked down the coast.

He wasn't really sure how it happened, but he started stumbling across small towns doted along the country side. Some were on old maps, others weren't. Each one was filled with people just trying to get by. Kids ran around playing, not even knowing how low the world was at that very moment. A carving here and a bit of sewing there, and all of a sudden he felt like he coming straight out of some old fairy-tale. The kids never seemed to question it though, loving the gifts he gave out as he stopped in the small hamlets.

Man, if only the gang could see him now...

Jaune shook his head, pushing the thoughts far away in his mind. That way led to madness, surely.

Soon enough, the steady pace of walking under a bright sky was all it took to drown out any dangerous thoughts. Soon the path grew a bit less rugged, showing clear signs in the soft road that it had been used recently.

Knowing he'd soon be among people always filled him with a bit of unease, but also excitement. Normally he was able to trade his way into having a roof over his head for a night with a hot meal. It was always a nice change of pace, and the thought spurned him forwards.

Soon the tree's thinned slightly around him as he came to the edge of a large clearing. Inside it was a cluster of buildings, an unevenly spaced out row of stakes lined its edges. Taking a deep breath, Jaune stepped towards the village. A guard stood in front of a clear opening in the stakes, clutching a spear nervously as he spotted Jaune.

Hoping to allay his fears, Jaune waved one hand in the air and shouted "Hey there! Any chance I could come inside? It's gonna be a hard night if I have to stay out in the woods again!"

The guard flinched at the loud voice, but upon seeing the friendly smile, he waved Jaune closer, still clutching his spear warily.

The entire time it took Jaune to cross the space between the treeline and the entrance, he couldn't help but notice the guard never took his eyes off his sword. Fair enough, he supposed.

Making sure to keep his hands away from his sides, he kept both in the air, keeping his smile plastered on.

Once he was a few meters away, he stopped, knowing full well what the protocol was for entering these kinds of villages.

The guard eyed him up and down once, trying to seem serious and threatening. Jaune struggled not to laugh, as the guard was barely more than a boy, hardly older than seventeen. Old enough to be in Beacon.

The thought cut him, but he held onto his easy going demeanour.

"What do you want in this town?" grunted the guard.

"Well, I was hoping for a hot meal and night's rest where I don't have to sleep with one eye open. Got a bit to trade for it too, if people are interested in that sort of thing around here."

"Hmm, well Elisha and his lot were just here, so we're pretty set on produce and basic goods. Guess it'd depend on what you've got on you."

"Ah, Elisha was his name? I met them on the road here, lot of kids and a scary wife, right?"

The guard barked with laughter, far more at ease now as he saw Jaune was just some regular guy. "Ah, that'd be them all right. Come on in, and feel free to just set up your stuff near the middle of the town. If anyone is interested in what you've got, they'll come to you there."

"Thanks...?" Jaune trailed off, looking at the boy meaningfully.

"Connor." he replied.

"Ah, well thanks Connor! Hopefully you'll have a chance to swing by and see what I've got huh?"

The man waved him off as Jaune wandered into the town, smiling slightly at the few faces he caught as he walked to the middle of the square. People peaked out the windows of a few old buildings, though from what he could see most of them were new.

Soon he found what seemed to be the most well-worn part of the town, where a few vendors were taking down their stock and packing them away in carts for the day. The town wasn't jumping with energy, but not many did nowadays. All things considered, the people looked pretty well fed, even if they were wary.

Belatedly he realized he didn't even know the name of the town, shaking his head at his typical foolishness.

Putting his bag on the ground, he pulled out a large blanket and unfurled it on the ground, slowly unpacking his goods.

Out came boxes of ammunition, bundles of multipurpose wiring, whetstones, packets of candy, and even a small box of Dust crystals. Knickknacks and small oddities also filled the gaps in his wares. Stabbing Crocea Mors into the ground, he shrugged off his weathered jacket and hung it, revealing his pock-marked armour to the people. The sight of it was usually enough to bring curious folk over, wondering more about his story than his wares. And today was no exception, as people started to drift over and look at what he had to offer. His selection wasn't huge, which was why he always made sure to have things people really wanted in his pack. He kept a small haversack off to the side, sealed as he made idle chatter with the townsfolk. One expressed a great interest in the wiring, while another queried about the payload of his ammunition.

Soon, more and more people drifted over. Coins never changed hands, but goods always did. The wiring was traded for a sack of rations, while a small carved statue from Mistral got him a spool of sewing thread and bundle of cloth. A few smaller trades were made before he finally saw a small girl hanging on the edge of the crowd with the rest of the children finally build up enough courage to push to the front.

"What's in the bag?" she demanded, her inquisitive eyes burrowing into it. A few adults looked at one another in mild confusion, wondering where the girls parents could be.

Jaune merely leaned over and picked the sack up and opened it, glad his target audience had finally shown up.

Reaching inside without saying a word or breaking eye contact, he drew out a small doll, put together with a small green cloth. It's button eyes were mismatched, and the smile was sown on crookedly, but that hardly mattered to the little girl. Her eyes nearly flew out of her head as she looked at him in awe with an unspoken question.

She squealed in delight as he leaned over and simply handed it to her, letting her tear it from her hands as she skipped off with a cackle and hoot.

The effect on the adults was immediate, as all of a sudden the offers became a bit easier and generous. One man inquired about the crystals, and Jaune was more than happy to ride the positive energy of the crowd.

"Ah, you'd actually be surprised, but that one is straight from a SDC crate."

"Huh, no kidding. Really?" said the man, holding a bright yellow crystal between his two hands.

"Yup, just look on the other side, you'll see the logo is still engraved in it."

"Well, I'll be! Haven't seen marked goods like this since... all the craziness happened. Where did you find this? Vale?"

Jaune grimaced for a second before shaking his head. "Nope, never even swung by that way. I happened to be in Atlas when it all happened. Friend was pretty high in the company, and managed to get me a few crates and a boat when I set off. This is all that's left, and I don't think I'm going back up to Atlas any time soon."

"Ah, then I'd imagine there's a price worth that story and the Dust alike, isn't there?"

Jaune nodded, glad someone had finally taken the bait. "That there is, but tell you what; if you give me a place to sleep with a roof and a hot meal, I'll give you that crystal and my story. Abbreviated, of course."

The man stared at Jaune in disbelief before laughing loudly and sticking out a hand to shake his own.

"You got yourself a deal!" beamed the man.

"Great, I'll just have to-" Jaune cut off as he looked right past the man towards a woman walking into the village. In one hand she clutched a picture frame, a small pack on her back, and in the other she held... nothing.

A scarred stump stuck out from her brown vest, though the woman didn't seemed all that ashamed of it. She wore a heavy series of bindings across her torso, black pants and heavy boots. Something about her was familiar, but Jaune couldn't put his finger on it.

He missed catching a good glimpse of her as she passed, her raven locks blocking her face as she turned down a small alley in the village, vanishing from sight before even hitting the courtyard.

Jaune barely even realized he had been staring at her until the man he had been speaking to waved a hand in front of his face.

"You alright there lad?" said the man, one eyebrow raised.

"U-uh, yeah, for sure..." he blinked, before stooping to pack up his wares quickly. "Which house is yours, and when should I be there?"

"Oh... um, it's the one with the red shingles down the left side. You can't really miss it. We'll be eating in an hour or two, feel free to stop by then.

Jaune nodded numbly at the man before hoisting his pack and walking swiftly towards the alley the woman had stepped into.

He guessed his way through the narrow turns in the village, hoping he would bump into the woman.

After a few minutes of trying to see where she had gone, Jaune sighed and decided to give up. Not only was he not going to find her like this, but he probably looked like a cree-

"It's not polite to follow someone home. Should I be concerned?" came a voice from behind, a slightly sultry twinge to it. It made Jaune's blood run cold, and he had to force himself to turn fully to look at the woman standing behind him.

The smirk she had been wearing dropped completely off her face as she looked him in the eyes, turning into a heavy frown like lightning.

"You." she growled.

"H-how..." Jaune gasped, his eyes narrowing as his hand absently went to his side, only to curse as he realized he left his sword back in the courtyard.

"No." Was her simple response, pushing Jaune and rushing past him. He fell to the ground with a startled yelp, transfixed on his backpack like a turtle for a few seconds before he rolled himself into a sitting position.

"Damn." was all he could choke out, frustrated beyond belief that she had just brushed past him without him offering a shred of resistance.

As he made to stand and give pursuit, he took notice of the canvas she had left on the ground. Picking it up, he was stunned by the beauty he saw on it. So many shades of green doted the leaves of a serene forest scene, each painted with loving detail and attention, with beams of light breaking through and on to the fur of an enterprising rabbit.

Cinder Fall, one of the worst people on Remnant was alive.

And was a damn good artist.