Chapter 5: Hidden Agenda

Summer had seen many incredible things during her time as a Huntress. She'd seen the glimmering steel buildings in the Oasis. She'd wandered through the ruins of ancient villages, gazed upon technological marvels floating in the sky, and witnessed giants emerging from the deserts of Vacuo.

But Mistral...the Kingdom on the eastmost side of Remnant was truly unlike anything she'd ever seen.

"Wh-whoa…" she muttered, pressing her face against the window as she gazed at the scenery below. Lush forests decorated the landscape as far as her eyes could see, and scattered among them were gorgeous cityscapes, where rows of ornate buildings, the likes of which she'd only seen in her imagination as a child, stood tall and proud. And it was all set against the backdrop of a cloudless, perfectly blue sky, as the sun's rays descended onto the land below.

Mistral's main city stood upon a beautiful green mountain, with a large waterfall running down the centre of the grand structure. What she assumed was Haven Academy stood at the very top like a majestic crown. According to legends, the mountain had once been an active volcano, thousands upon thousands of years ago.

Realizing that some of the other passengers on the carrier were giving her odd looks, she immediately pulled away, embarrassed.

Beside her, Latte laughed. "Like the view, huh? Is this your first time seeing it?"

"I've seen postcards, and news reports…" Summer replied. "But nothing really compares to seeing it up close, does it?" No matter what, it seemed like every time she visited a new Kingdom, she'd momentarily revert to being that naive child who was surprised and amazed by every new experience. For just one moment, she was once again a seventeen-year-old from a tiny village, gazing upon the shining shape of Beacon Academy for the first time.

Of course, back then she had huddled in the furthest corner of the airship, nervous and alone, timidly wandering outside at the back of the line while hoping nobody would see her. But as the Carrier landed at Mistral's central airport, about halfway up the mountain, Summer practically bounced on her feet as she made her way out of the vehicle, breathing in the fresh Mistralian air.

"...It smells so nice around here," she murmured, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them and looked off in the distance, she found that the nearby city seemed even more beautiful up close. Some of them looked as though they were temples of holy worship rather than hotels and homes.

"Pretty great, isn't it?" Latte walked up to her. "It's good to cherish your first time visiting someplace new. Especially if it's for work - because eventually you'll be dead sick of visiting it every other week."

Summer frowned. "Really? I don't think I'd ever get tired of seeing that view. And those building designs, too...Mistral isn't called the land of the arts for nothing!"

"You're right about that!" The older Huntsman grinned as he pulled out his Scroll, flipping through some files. "Alright, check out some sights while we walk, but our first stop should be the main guildhouse. We'll see if any of the jobs posted might put us on the track of our culprit."

The guildhouse in question lay at the end of a long walk through the city, but Summer didn't mind at all. Even if her legs got steadily more fatigued as they made their way up the mountain and through Mistral City, she was content taking in the sights and witnessing all of Mistral's unique architecture up close. The Kingdom really did have an identity of its own - she'd been to all four main Kingdoms now, but being in Mistral felt like she'd stepped into a different world entirely.

She found herself wondering if Qrow was in the Kingdom yet, and what exactly Ozpin had put him up to. There was a small part of her hoping they'd walk through the doors of the guildhouse and he'd be right there, but Summer doubted her luck was that great.

When the two Huntsmen reached the tall red pagoda that stood under a massive cliff, it took Summer a moment to register that they'd reached their destination. Whoa. Even compared to everything else, this place looks incredible! The guildhouse's interior was no less impressive, with the first thing to catch her eye being an ivory statue standing in the center of the room. It seemed to depict a man on a horse, but Summer soon realized that the 'man' had unusually long, thin arms, and a grotesque, almost demonic form. Even more disturbingly, he wasn't riding the horse - rather, the two were fused into a single entity. A chill ran down Summer's back as she looked at it.

Latte took notice. "That piece of work's caught your eye, huh? Can't blame you," he muttered, guiding her over to the mission board. "That ugly of a bitch, the legends call it a Nuckelavee. They used to roam Mistral back before humanity colonized it, but some of the first Huntsmen managed to drive them out of the area. Of course it wasn't easy - according to the stories, a single Nuck could raze entire villages, and the ones that lived to maturity could even spit deadly poison from their mouths."

"Poison?" Summer muttered. "From a Grimm? That sounds pretty scary...Was it was one of those kinds that could kill you just from touching it?" The Grimm legends she'd read had introduced her to many similarly terrifying concepts.

"Nope. Way worse. The stuff would course through your body, slowly wearing down your immune system and giving you a slow, painful death over the course of days, weeks - months, if you were unlucky. Plus, the venom would heal wounds in your Aura so you couldn't even be put out of your misery. And there's nothing on the planet that can cure it." Latte turned to the statue of the Nuckelavee and shuddered. "Yeesh. Just talking about it gives me the creeps."

"M-me too." Summer nodded, cringing as she imagined just how agonizing of an end that would be. "And there's only way historians could have known about all that, too…"

The older Huntsman smiled wearily. "Well, it's not that ancient. As recently as the Faunus War, Nuckelavee venom was used as a means of torture and execution - none of it legal, obviously. Oz and his crew have managed to get rid of most of it over the years, but there's probably still a vial or two out there. So...that'll help you stay up at night."

His face brightened. "Oh, almost forgot the reason we're here!" Failing to notice the pale expression on Summer's face, Latte turned to the board. "Let's see, anything interesting…? Suspected King Taijitu sighting around Shion Village...another Lancer infestation on the Matsu Islands…"

As Latte looked through the missions, Summer quietly ruminated on what she'd just learned. It really shouldn't have been a surprise. She'd seen the things that humanity - even Huntsmen - were able to do with technology, nature and other resources. People using dangerous - even evil - things for their own ends was nothing new.

She'd always known that becoming a Huntress meant fighting Grimm. But now she knew that the Grimm weren't her only enemy. The scariest thought, to her, was that they might not be her worst enemy.

Meanwhile, Latte threw his hands up with a dramatic sigh. "Aaaaaaand nothing in particular. Well, I wasn't expecting to find a lead immediately, but still, can't I have some good luck for a change?"

"So now what?" Summer asked. "Do we come back tomorrow?"

"Not much of a choice, is there? Still, it's fine - for now, I can just show you around town. Hopefully, we'll have better luck tomorrow morning."

The two Huntsmen exited the guildhouse. As they did, they heard a strange commotion from somewhere higher up. "What's that?" Summer asked curiously. "Sounds like people are talking…"

"Uh...that's…." Latte squinted as he slowly moved his gaze up the mountain, his eyes settling on the very top. As Summer followed his gaze, she saw an usual amount of people gathered around the entrance to Haven Academy. "The...school?" she murmured, confused. Weird. Isn't today a day off?

"I think we should check it out," Latte suggested, and she agreed.

When they reached the academy, wading through the crowd of curious onlookers, they saw that everyone was gathered around a group of people in peculiar uniforms, standing just beyond the school gates. With a start, Summer realized all of them were Faunus.

Some of them had commonly seen traits like cat ears or antlers, but there were others with more peculiar appearances. A gaunt man with a hideous set of insectoid teeth. A petite young woman whose barefoot form exposed her pale ostrich feet. And a tapir Faunus with an abnormally large nose, the sight of which caused Summer to giggle briefly, against her better judgement.

"The White Fang?" Her companion muttered, his voice nervous as his fingers instinctively moved toward his weapon. "What are they doing in Mistral, of all places?"

Similar murmurings came from all around them. "Those guys are freaking me out." "Sh-shouldn't we have some more security with them around?" "Wasn't one of their leaders arrested for terrorism?" So on, and so forth.

"High Leader Belladonna," came a stern, powerful voice from the top of the stairway, shutting everyone up. Standing in front of the academy's main doors, a woman with a regal appearance addressed the Faunus gathered before her. "A...messenger informed me of your arrival. I do hope you've come here with good purpose."

"Carnelia Stein - Haven's headmaster," Latte whispered to Summer. "I hear she's pretty great at her profession...but not the Faunus' biggest fan, if you catch my drift."

Summer nodded. "I...I've seen her once." Though we never spoke...I was pretending to be asleep, after all.

"It is my honour to speak with you, Madam." The Faunus at the head of the pack rose, along with two figures on either side. He himself was an enormous man, with amber eyes, dark hair and a growing beard. On his left was a woman around Summer's age, with dark skin and a tiger's ears. The man on his right was comparatively lean, but had pale, almost ghastly gray skin that took Summer a moment to register as that of a shark's. He lacked hair of any kind, and his eyes were a deep, rusty red.

"Save your honour," Carnelia grumbled, looking down upon them with disdain. "I promise you, such concepts mean little coming from a clan of zealots."

The tiger woman hissed at her. "You will not speak to Ghira with such vitriol, human!" she yelled. "We the Fang will not-"

"Calm yourself, Sienna," Ghira Belladonna said calmly, raising his hand. Sienna went quiet immediately, averting her eyes.

. Meanwhile, the shark-skinned man moved his gaze slowly around the crowd, glancing over Summer and Latte with spiteful indifference. He's terrifying, Summer thought. And yet, his hideous appearance had almost certainly led to discrimination in his past.

Ghira continued his address. "Regardless of your opinion of us, we have come with but a single request," he explained. "We of the White Fang are grateful for the steps that mankind has taken to unite human and Faunus. That much, I hope is clear. But it is also clear that there is still much more work to be done."

Carnelia Stein seemed unmoved. "In that case, why not try your hand at bothering Atlas? I hear the CEO of their Schnee Dust Company is openly unrepentant about the treatment of their Faunus workers. Not to mention their ban on Faunus in the military."

"Maybe," the shark man growled, his voice hoarse and raspy. "But Mistral is hardly innocent, either. The Faunus slave market continues to run rampant in the underground, yet the Mistral Council has made little progress and no arrests. It's almost as though they don't see helping Faunus as a priority." That last sentence was spoken with a barely-disguised sneer.

"You're right that the Council has its flaws," the headmaster conceded, though her expression remained stoic. "And our culture's emphasis on tradition makes it difficult to renounce our more...unfortunate practices. But I assure you that I have worked tirelessly, along with my fellow Council members, to make changes. I hope you haven't forgotten how we fought tooth and nail for the abolishment of Faunus hunting-"

"Only ten years after every other nation on Remnant!" Sienna retorted. "How many innocent Faunus were killed before you finally got your act together?" In the crowds, several onlookers - most of them Faunus themselves - were now shouting their support of the White Fang. Many others simply flashed them a dirty look before turning away.

Ghira raised his hand once more, quieting the commotion around them. "...Yet it was progress all the same," he said sternly to the tiger Faunus, before turning back to Carnelia with a smile. "Your willingness to aid our kind is not lost on me - or the Fang. And so I would like to put forth my request."

Carnelia narrowed her eyes. "...Alright. I'm listening."

"As you know, for many years there has been a small, uninhabited patch of land on the borders of Mistral City. On behalf of my comrades in the Fang, I humbly request the Council allow us to build a new base of operations there." He gave her a respectful bow as he finished speaking.

The angered whispers resurfaced, more savage and disbelieving than before. Summer glanced around anxiously as some began to point fingers at the gathered Faunus, shouting unintelligible profanities. This...could get ugly. That being said, she didn't find the bearded Faunus' request to be unreasonable.

"And why would you need such a thing?" Carnelia's voice was sharper now, more openly condescending. "The White Fang already has their main base installed on Menagerie, where no doubt you've amassed a wealth of supporters. In addition, you've got your secondary branch in Vale. So what could you ferals possibly gain by taking up more of our space?"

At the mention of that ancient, hateful word, the arguments in the crowd seemed to instantly explode into a small-scale war, and it seemed as though they were seconds away from coming to blows.

"You hear that, mutts? Get the hell out of our Kingdom, dammit!"

"You call yourself a headmaster? Treating Faunus like that!"

It was as though Carnelia had enabled all of their long-held prejudices and beliefs in one sentence. Summer turned to Latte. "This is bad," she muttered. "You don't think they're going to fight, do you?"

"There's no point getting involved yet," Latte replied anxiously. "We'd be the ones causing trouble in that case. But the moment violence breaks out, get ready to stop some bloodshed. "

"ENOUGH!" Ghira roared, loudly enough that Summer had to cover her ears in fear. For a third time, the whole crowd went silent at his behest. The Fang's leader soon returned to his calm disposition, but Summer felt that the look he gave the headmaster had more steel in it than before.

"I promise you that I have no ill intentions, Madam," he insisted. "All we want is to continue to spread awareness about Faunus oppression, in the hopes that one day we can truly be equal. And we can start by working together - us and the Council."

"But there's no need to work your pretty little brain into making a decision yet," the shark man continued in a growl. "We aren't going anywhere...in fact, we'll be staying here in Mistral for the time being. Waiting for you to mull things over."

Ghira nodded. "Indeed. I understand this is a difficult choice, one that I've rudely dropped on you without much warning. That being said, it would please me if we were to receive your approval - or your refusal - by the time we depart for Menagerie."

The silence that followed was almost surreal - not even a nervous whisper among the crowd could be heard. Finally, Carnelia Stein simply nodded. "...I will consider your request," she said curtly.

Ghira smiled warmly. "My deepest gratitude, Madam. And thank you for your time - I promise we will waste no more of it today." Bowing deeply once more, he gestured to his fellow Fang members, and they all prepared to depart the academy grounds.

Carnelia, for her part, simply turned and walked into the academy without another word. Though she couldn't see much of her from the back, Summer had a pretty good idea what kind of expression the headmaster had on her face.

The people's interest faded as fast as it had begun. Already they had begun to scatter, moving towards some other purpose or merely wandering aimlessly. Humans and Faunus cast shady looks at each other as they walked past, and there was the occasional murmur that no doubt contained language not suited for public conversation.

Despite the lingering animosity, Latte breathed a sigh of relief. "Crisis averted, thank god. Trust me, I've seen lesser arguments than this escalate into all-out brawls. Not pretty." He glanced up at the sky.. "Ugh, this little detour took longer than I thought. How about we - ack, what now?!"

He'd been interrupted by his Scroll, which he angrily took out of his pocket. His eyes softened as he saw the caller's name. "Oh, it's Isa," he muttered, turning to Summer. "Sorry, partner. We'll head out once I take this call, 'K?" She nodded.

"...Hello, sweetheart?" Latte asked, putting the Scroll to his ear. "Yep, I've got everything safe and secure with me...Huh? My keys? Yeah, they were with me on the plane...h-hold on, give me a sec…"

Latte's marital shenanigans became white noise as Summer's attention drifted over to the White Fang, who now seemed to be discussing the results of their negotiation.

"...That wretched woman." Summer could make out Sienna's infuriated voice as she stamped her foot on the ground. "It was obvious that she'd never give us a second thought. Just like all the other humans!"

"A wild goose chase, indeed," the shark man growled. He curled his pale lips into a sneer. "But our leader insisted we try, and so we followed."

Ghira Belladonna shrugged. "A peaceful negotiation is always worth the attempt, Archibald," he chastised him. "We failed here - but it's not the end of the world. We have tomorrow, and the day after that. Eventually, we will get her approval. And there are other options we can take."

"Another option has already presented itself," Archibald rasped. "The rabbit. We can take her up on that offer."

Summer's ears perked up, and she felt an all-too-familiar feeling rising in her chest. The rabbit...of course, it could be any rabbit Faunus in the world, but there was no doubt in her mind about who they were talking about.

Ghira hesitated. "Perhaps we can," he conceded. "Though I still have my reservations. I can't say I fully trust her intentions yet...and her access to such valuable resources is suspect, as well."

"H-how can you say that, high leader?" Sienna protested. "That woman is a Faunus - her and that eyepatched girl, they're both the same as us! If we can't trust our own kind, we've already lost!"

"My thoughts exactly," Archibald hissed, crossing his arms. "This isn't like you, Ghira - or perhaps, it's too much like you? I do hope you're not going soft on us now."

The White Fang leader flashed both of his subordinates with a withering glare. "That's enough, both you," he snarled. "Let us return to our quarters at once. If the rabbit and her offer are genuine, I have a feeling we'll be hearing from her very soon. Come on – I'd like to get there before nightfall." With that, the three of them left the academy grounds, their brigade of Faunus following suit.

Summer stood there in silence, watching them. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Eh-?" Panicking, she turned around, finding herself face-to-face with a surprised Latte.

"Oh! Sorry if I caught you off guard," he said. "Anyway, that's over with. U-uh, turns out I might have to go home sooner than I thought, but for now how 'bout we get to that hotel, right? I promise it's quite the luxurious affair, and-"

Summer shook her head. "I've got a better idea," she replied. "You said you didn't find any leads, right?"

"Hmm? Yeah, unfortunately I didn't."

"Then...let's follow them." She pointed in the direction of the White Fang members. "They've got to have some makeshift base around here. If we scout the place, maybe even listen in on their conversations, we might find what we're looking for."

Latte stared at her in surprise, hesitating for a moment before replying. "Hmmm...I'll admit I'm not exactly fond of the Fang, but I wouldn't jump to any conclusions so quickly. I'd hate to make myself look like the racist guy!"

"This isn't about that," Summer insisted.

"Well, you sounded pretty sure of yourself, just now. And to be honest, you've been getting a lot of things right recently, so I'll take your word for it. You got any particular reason for this, though?"

Glancing anxiously at the retreating members of the Fang, Summer thought of Harriet once more. Her false friend had not been wrong - Faunus were treated badly, even in this era of civilization and peace. And in hindsight, whispering plans to the White Fang was exactly the sort of plan she might have. The rabbit Faunus had already worked with a Fang member once before, after all.

And if Harriet was involved...this could be the perfect chance to settle the score with her, for real this time.

"...Just a hunch," Summer said.

It was the third day of Qrow's training, and the first where Ozpin decided to spar with him directly.

Before this, the professor had simply set up a few duels between Qrow and whichever Huntsmen happened to be off-duty at the time. It was good experience, he supposed, but it hadn't been nearly as hard as he'd feared. They were professional experts, sure, and he could feel the experience behind their swings, but they were hardly unmanageable. With Reaper's Gambit at his side, he'd won each battle with relative ease.

And so, he'd felt pretty good about his chances when the professor himself offered to do battle. Which was also why he'd been completely caught off guard when Ozpin began to absolutely, mercilessly kick his ass.

"Ack!" he muttered as the professor struck him in the neck with his cane, with surprising force considering its thin stature. He retaliated with his blade, but Ozpin's slender frame masked his almost inhuman speed, dodging every strike with perfectly calculated movements. Qrow cursed as he missed, only to be hit yet again by his opponent's counterattack.

"You need to be more alert, Qrow," Ozpin said calmly, suddenly stopping in place. He moved his gaze up to his former student with a serene smile, as though they hadn't been fighting mere moments ago. "A string of consecutive victories can lower your guard; a mistake that's taken the lives of even veteran warriors. It's important that you don't let your strengths get to your head."

Did he plan for this? Qrow thought, feeling a twinge of annoyance. It was certainly something that Ozpin would do, and he felt furious at himself for falling for it. "Hey, it's not my fault that the Huntsmen here are pushovers," he remarked, though he gripped his sword more tightly.

"Your Semblance gives you a unique advantage," Ozpin said simply, twirling his cane in his hand, while casually pacing around the room to match Qrow's own movements. "But an advantage is never a guarantee for victory. And you will encounter foes that can fight to their fullest without relying on luck."

That, too, made Qrow rather annoyed. It wasn't like he chose to use his Semblance to get an edge in battle – hell, he didn't have any control over that part of it. But he knew what Ozpin would say to that. If it's out of your hands, then there's no use complaining about it. Those things should never be used as an excuse. Something like that. Qrow was starting to get the hang of Ozpin's little 'wise old master' routine.

"Got it, got it," he muttered, as if replying to his own imagined Ozpin-ism. He lunged at the professor, waiting for him to raise his cane in defense…and then changed form. Using the aspect of his Semblance that he could control, he flew above Ozpin as a bird, landed behind him and, changing back, swung Reaper's Gambit as hard and as quickly as he could.

Clang. The blade bounced harmlessly off of Ozpin's cane. You've got to be shitting me! Before Qrow could so much as blink, the professor had already turned himself around and assumed a defensive stance. He felt a rush of frustration – just how fast was Ozpin, anyway?

Growling, Qrow leapt back and switched his weapon to cannon form, firing off several quick rounds. To his dismay, Ozpin simply slammed his cane onto the floor, generating a protective bubble around him, blocking his shots.

"That's cheap," he complained. "You want to talk about having an advantage? With a trinket like that, you might even be as quick as my old man."

"There is no such thing as 'cheap' on the battlefield," Ozpin countered. After a moment, a suspiciously friendly smile formed on his lips. "But if you insist, we can change our duel to a hand-on-hand one. No weapons, and no Semblances – to the best of our abilities. Skill alone will determine the victor."

"Fine by me," Qrow agreed, placing Reaper's Gambit on the weapons' rack nearby. Ozpin did the same with his cane. Returning to the center of the training field, both Huntsmen readied their battle stances. Okay, Qrow thought nervously. He might be fast, but without my heavy blade I might be able to match his speed. Only one way to find out, I guess.

Ozpin was waiting patiently for him. Qrow had noticed that the headmaster consistently preferred waiting for his opponent to strike first, getting a hang of their movements before countering. A good strategy for exploiting the enemy's mistakes, but sometimes making the first move meant all the difference.

Qrow decided to try his luck. He lunged at Ozpin, only to sidestep right at the last moment to attempt a feint. He managed to strike the professor in the shoulder with a karate chop, but to his dismay, Ozpin seemed barely fazed. He calmly turned towards him, and all Qrow could think was, Ah crap.

Sure enough, Ozpin's retaliation came swiftly and brutally, with a flurry of punches that soon backed Qrow up against the wall. Helpless, he raised his arms to defend himself against the barrage, but it could only help him so much. Before long, a precise hammer fist came down upon his head, knocking him to the ground. "Ugh!" he grunted.

When he pulled himself back up, Ozpin was dusting himself off, glancing at him with a mixture of doubt and sympathy in his eyes. He was still smiling, though, which was usually a reassuring sign. "You performed better than most have on their first time sparring with me," he said, "But as we've just demonstrated, you still have a long way to go, Mr. Branwen."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Qrow groaned, rubbing his still-aching head as he went to retrieve his weapon. After his brief rush of feeling unstoppable – that short-lived timeframe where he'd foolishly believed that he might already be an elite Huntsman – he was now back down to earth, as they say. "Ugh…I'm gonna need a fuckin' drink after this."

Ozpin nodded sympathetically. "Go right ahead. I'd join you, but alcohol isn't particularly my thing. Come back and we'll go a few more rounds – I'd like to make the most of our time before I return to Beacon."

That was true. It would certainly be seen as unusual for the headmaster of Beacon Academy to be visiting a foreign nation, except during the Vytal Festival or times of extreme danger. Qrow thought of poor Professor Goodwitch, no doubt driving herself mad managing the school in her boss' absence. Then again, he had a feeling she secretly enjoyed it.

"Got it," Qrow said. "See you in about an hour, Oz." Still feeling like shit, he hailed a taxi to take him to the Scarlet Adder Bar & Grill, which wasn't actually that far away but was still more effort than he was currently willing to put in.

If, theoretically, he had elected to walk to his destination, he might have bumped into Summer and her travelling companion on their way to investigate a lead of their own, and they would have certainly struck up an interesting conversation. Whether it would have changed what happened next, in the long term, cannot be said.

In any case, what actually happened was that he pulled up to the bar and entered, ordered a small strawberry martini with extra ice and sugar, and promptly collapsed on one of the counter chairs with a grunt.

I really do have a long way to go, he finally admitted to himself, begrudgingly. He'd gotten his ass cleanly handed to him in Vacuo last year, his sister had been beating him at their sparring matches for pretty much their entire lives, and now here he was, hurting all over and feeling sorry for himself after taking a few punches to the face. It was pathetic, really.

Did Ozpin really expect him to do this? Sure, if he succeeded in negotiating with his father, he wouldn't even have to fight at all. But deep down, Qrow had a feeling Ozpin didn't expect it to work in the first place. No, it was far more likely that this was simply a clever ploy by the headmaster – headmasters, more likely than not – to buy themselves some time and information for when the inevitable war came.

Which basically meant Qrow was being set up for failure. By his own superiors. That thought didn't exactly reassure him, but thankfully at that moment his drink arrived, and he proceeded to dissolve those concerns in the alcohol.

"Well, hello," came a voice from nearby. "You arrived a little earlier than I'd anticipated, Qrow."

Huh?! Who said that? Feeling woozy from the drink, Qrow glanced around frantically. That voice hadn't sounded overly familiar, but he was pretty sure he'd heard it somewhere before…

"Over here, my friend." Looking slightly to his right, he saw a man waving to him from a table near the window. After a moment of blankly staring at him in confusion, Qrow's memory was jogged. This was the other guy who he'd met at the Emerald Tower – the one who'd shown up after the meeting was already over. What's his name…Bell? Right, Sherwood Bell. Why's he here…?

Uncertainly, Qrow got up and walked over to Sherwood's table, glass in hand. The older man was enjoying a pint of beer and a small plate of chicken pasta. "I see you had a rough day of training," Sherwood Bell remarked. "Do sit down, friend. I think we both have a lot to talk about."

Qrow was about to ask how the hell he knew what he'd been doing all day, but then remembered that Sherwood had an almost uncanny ability to perceive these kinds of things. No wonder he's part of Oz's inner circle, he thought, If he really is that smart.

Instead, he brought up something else that Ozpin had mentioned during their brief encounter with Sherwood at the Tower. "Weren't you supposed to be going to Atlas?" he asked. "To investigate a factory, or something?"

"Ah. That errand? Child's play, my dear Qrow," Sherwood chuckled. "I was simply supposed to check and search for any signs of enemy infiltration in our headquarters there. I gave the place a quick glance-over, found nothing that surprised me in the slightest, and thus I was promptly reassigned here, to Mistral."

I guess that makes sense, Qrow thought. The Kingdom of Atlas had been eating out of Salem's pockets for years. Even though the source of its corruption was now dealt with, it was probably better to be safe and check their numbers for any remaining traces of the Dark Queen's influence. "By your headquarters, do you mean Atlas Academy?"

"Oh no. Not that kind of headquarters. The 'factory' is a general term we of the Order like to use, you see. It simply refers to the various scientific establishments that, to certain extents, provide assistance to us when we require it. We have them all across Remnant, but obviously Atlas has them in the greatest numbers. Young General Ironwood recently added Polendina Robotics into our ranks. While Carnelia and Thane have their doubts, I'm certain they'll be to great service to us in the future."

Sherwood spoke in a quick, rambling tone, as if he weren't talking to anyone in particular. It was hard to make out his words most of the time. Qrow felt slightly uncomfortable listening to him – he was starting to feel like he wasn't even part of the conversation.

"In any case," he continued, suddenly beginning to speak at the speed of a normal human again, "the truth is, Qrow, I was actually reassigned to Mistral on your behalf. That is, your little mission from Ozpin."

That took a moment to register. Qrow was chugging down the last of his drink and nearly choked on it. "H-huh?" he spluttered, wiping his now-leaking mouth with his sleeve. "Wait…Oz wanted you to help me with the negotiation?"

"Certainly. I was actually waiting here for you, friend, so we could discuss the job. I was wondering when you would turn up."

"How'd you know I would…" Qrow sighed. "Ugh…you know what? Never mind. Fine. Though just so you know, I've already been filled on the details. Multiple times, in fact."

Sherwood smiled. "Well, that's what you think. I'm sure you feel nervous – I, myself, have never been quite the people person. Still, Ozpin always knows what he's doing…"

His voice trailed off mid-sentence, and his head began to droop downward as he grew silent. Qrow was worried for a moment, as it seemed like Sherwood had suddenly come down with a sickness. A second later, though, the Huntsman immediately rose back up, his eyes closed.

"Phew," Qrow sighed. "You almost scared me for a moment there. Thought you were-"

Sherwood Bell's eyes flew open, and with a shock, Qrow saw that they had turned from their natural brown to a bright shade of green. "Hmmm," he muttered, his voice noticeably deeper than a few seconds prior. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." He now spoke with a deep, peculiar accent.

Slowly, it began to dawn on Qrow what had just happened. Finally, he spoke. "So, uh…who are you? 'Cause I don't think we've met before."

The other man didn't respond, as he was currently staring down at Sherwood's plate in disdain. "Honestly," he muttered, shaking his head angrily. "Does he really think we can be sustained one such measly breadcrumbs? What a fool!" He raised his hand as a waitress walked by.

"You there, young lady!" he called out. "I'd like a large roast chicken dish, and a large bowl of Eastern fish stew! Quickly, before I starve myself!" After a moment, the man flashed her a beaming, jovial smile. "Ah, and might I say – that dress looks quite wonderful on you."

The waitress blinked in confusion at first, but soon smiled and ran off towards the kitchen.

"Anyway, where were we?" The man turned back to Qrow, still with that pleasant smile that instantly brought him calm. "Ah, of course. Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself – my name is Gray Poirpeau, the 'other' that lies within dear Sherwood's body. And of course, I know that you're Qrow Branwen, Ozpin's newest little soldier."

"…Pleased to make your acquaintance," Qrow muttered. This isn't even close to the weirdest thing I've seen as a Huntsman, he thought. Eventually, he was going to lose the ability to feel surprised altogether. He frowned at Gray Poirpeau. "So this is your Semblance, huh?"

"Correct," Poirpeau said. "This is far more than a dissociative personality disorder, as I'm sure you can tell. Indeed, it's no different than having two entirely separate entities occupying the same body. Dear old Ozpin took particular interest in it when we joined."

"Why's that?" Qrow asked curiously.

Gray Poirpeau did not answer his question. "As you can imagine, it comes in great use," he continued. "Sherwood is a master Huntsman and a keen eye matched by few in Remnant, but social understanding often eludes him. Thus, he turns to me whenever talking to others becomes necessary. Unfortunately, he tends to do it without warning, which can give poor folks quite the scare."

Tell me about it, Qrow thought irritably. He had some choice words for Sherwood Bell when he returned.

"I might not be much of a fighter, but I know a thing or two about people…and just how they tick." Poirpeau tapped his forehead meaningfully. "That's why I'll be accompanying you on your little reconnaissance-cum-negotiation tomorrow."

That's nice. He actually seems like a pretty good talker. Qrow opened his mouth to thank him, but Poirpeau wasn't done. "…though as I'm sure you already know, it's a lost cause. You have figured that out, haven't you?"

Qrow froze, but after a moment he slowly nodded his head. "Yeah," he muttered. "It's not gonna work – and Ozpin knows it."

"Very good! You really are a smart one – it seems there's hope for you yet, Qrow. No, Ozpin's too clever to think those bandits would ever agree to a peaceful solution. That's why he's sending you, their leader's son, to collect information, and hopefully lower his guard. And while it's all underway, Crowley and his little posse will be lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike in case something goes wrong." He threw his head back and laughed. "He really is thoroughly prepared, isn't he?"

Qrow was speechless. It was one thing to suspect, and another thing entirely for one of Ozpin's own enforcers to admit it to his face. His mission was doomed from the start.

"Why am I admitting it to your face, you ask?" Poirpeau said. "Because if I might be honest, I do not trust Ozpin. I know people like him – people who manipulate others through their fear. All of us in the Order are afraid of something. Leo fears Salem's forces, plain and simple. Phoebe fears persecution, like all Faunus. Sherwood and I fear encountering a problem neither of us can solve. And Crowley fears losing ano – ah, out of respect I won't be talking about that one. But in any case, Ozpin has granted each of us a way to fight our fears…and put ourselves to use. A good use, perhaps, but still his use."

"…Needless to say, you're afraid too, aren't you?" He eyed Qrow, not maliciously.

Of course he was. Hell, he was terrified. He was separated from all of his friends, he was now a pawn in someone else's grand chess game, and now he was being sent on a mission that was never meant to succeed. How could he not be afraid?

The food arrived at their table. Even though lunchtime had already passed, Poirpeau ate ravenously, making sure to lick every speck of food or sauce off his plate. It was almost impressive.

Qrow didn't eat anything. Food wasn't on his mind at all.

He glanced out the window. Tomorrow was the big day. And doomed mission or not, Qrow was going to see his father for the first time in years. His father was a merciless, bloodthirsty man. His father was the enemy. But he was still family.

As if taunting him, he heard Fenrir's words echo in his head. You are returning to us, are you not?

Qrow shook his head. "Never," he mumbled out loud. But somewhere, deep within the caverns of his heart, he wondered.