Chapter 3
"You sure this is okay?" Sun asked, already having started to stuff food into his mouth. Politeness didn't matter as much as hunger apparently did, and Sun was forcing the food in like it might be taken away at any moment.
"It's fine. Eat."
The boy did just that, not even questioning why a stranger had brought him to a little café and ordered food for him. To be fair Sun probably knew it was a bad idea; he just didn't have much of a choice. Risks were taken when it came to finding something to eat and a chance like this didn't come around all that often.
Luckily for him, Jaune was too shell-shocked to do anything, even if he'd had the inclination. Instead he poked at his own food, some spicy meat and veg, and stared at the little boy opposite him. It was Sun. It had to be. The similarities were too close, even before the name, and any doubt he might have been harbouring evaporated whenever Sun smiled.
The implications of what that meant, though… they were too much.
"How old are you?" Jaune asked.
"Seven," Sun answered, spitting a little food out. "I think." He swallowed. "Dunno, mister. No one counts that when you're an orphan. Tallin – that's my big bro, or a big kid that looks after us - says I'm six to eight." He paused. "Why?"
"No reason. Keep eating."
Sun eyed Jaune's dish. He'd already finished his own. "Can I…?"
Jaune pushed it over. His appetite had died long before.
"Thanks, mister!"
Six to eight years old, or seven – near enough. That meant he really had gone back before Beacon started, but much further back than he'd expected… or hoped. Damn you, Salem. You did this on purpose! She'd known he wouldn't be able to change Ozpin's mind in time to make a difference, so she'd thrown him back into the past to give him more time. Of course, she hadn't told him that.
But he'd known better than to trust Salem anyway, hadn't he?
What am I supposed to do now? I can't join my team – they'll be little kids. His face twisted at the thought of it, realising that he wouldn't even be able to go and see them. Pyrrha would be alive, but she'd also be seven years old. What kind of twenty-year-old man could go near someone like that? He'd be arrested and thrown in prison, especially if he lost control and tried to hug her.
His breath came out in sharp pants. His body was shaking. It took a monumental amount of self-control to make it stop; to lessen his panic to nothing more than a dull look in his eyes. All those plans he'd made, not only on how to help the future but what he'd do with his friends. They were in tatters now. They'd never happen.
It was almost enough to make him weep. Or scream in anger. He wasn't sure which. A hand tugged on his sleeve before he could, and he found himself looking down into a pudgy face with blue eyes. Sun's face, though dirty and now flecked with food, was etched with concern.
"Is something wrong, mister?"
Jaune stared at his old friend. The last time he'd seen him the boy had been a man – and dead. More than that though, Sun had been a good person, mature and funny in equal measure, but with a genuine care for those he considered friends. He'd been good to Blake. He'd been good for Blake. It was jarring to see him as an emaciated and starved orphan stealing from people in the streets of Vacuo. Even if he'd always wondered why someone from Vacuo hadn't studied there.
"Nothing's wrong," he said, slipping into the lie as easily as one might a pair of shoes. "You said you're an orphan."
"Yeah – but it's not so bad, you know."
"Not so bad that you had to resort to stealing?"
"It's not just for me," Sun grumbled. "I've friends who would go hungry. This is for them, too. I'm gonna be a big kid soon and I need to look after them. Sometimes that means getting money for food." His face fell a fraction, but he quickly recovered. "Some of the other big kids used to do it so I could eat. It's just returning the favour."
A crazy idea flickered into Jaune's head. He could take Sun with him. He could spare Sun a life trapped in an orphanage. It would be a good way to repay his friend. The idea lingered, festered, but was eventually dismissed. It wouldn't work out. Even ignoring the fact he had no identification – especially not if he'd gone back, what, ten years before Beacon? No ID and no name of his own, let alone the means or experience required to support a young child. It would be as good as a kidnapping, and that would come back to haunt him.
And besides, Sun would be fine, wouldn't he? The future had as good as proven that. It wasn't like he'd be leaving the boy to an uncertain fate.
"What do you want to do when you're older?" Jaune asked, curious.
"Eh?" Sun looked confused. "I dunno."
"Ever thought of being a huntsman?"
"No." Sun blinked. "Is that what you are, mister?"
"It is. I'm from Vale. Do you know where that is?"
"It's next to Vacuo," Sun said, with the self-assured tone only a child could manage when suggesting a thousand or more miles of deadly desert and Grimm-infested forest could be classed as being `next to` somewhere.
"It is. I have to go back there soon. There are… there are people who are waiting for me."
"Family?" Sun asked.
Jaune's throat caught. "No." Not anymore. His family wouldn't recognise him, even though they were alive once more. It's for the best, he told himself. They're still alive. All of them are. Even if I've gone back too far to see them, to be with them, I've still gone back. I can still change things. His eyes hardened, and he took a deep breath.
The game may have changed but the rules were still the same. He'd fix the future and save them. He'd just have to do it knowing he couldn't be a part of that future.
"I have friends in Vale," he said, recovering from the awkward silence. "It's a huntsman's job to protect people and I need to look after them. They're not strong enough to look after themselves right now."
Sun looked shocked. His eyes, wide and blue, trailed up and down Jaune's figure. "T-That's pretty cool," he admitted. "You're pretty cool for an old guy."
"I'm twenty-one at most," Jaune griped.
"That's so old!"
Ugh, kids. Jaune swiped out without thinking and Sun recoiled, only to go still as instead of a stern cuff around the head it was a napkin being brushed against his mouth, wiping off the debris of the little faunus' assault on the food. "Next time make sure the food goes in your mouth, not around it. I didn't give you that lien for you to wear food as make up."
"Y-Yeah." Sun looked down. His legs kicked under the table. "I get it. You're going to Vale, then?"
That was a good question. He wasn't sure. The plan had been to reach Vale so he could see what state Beacon was in, and then decide how to get into his team like he had before. That wasn't an option now, at least not in Team JNPR. Did he go ahead with it anyway and join Beacon under a different team?
There wasn't much point. Even if he hadn't technically graduated he felt like he'd reached a level for it. All that training with Qrow and Ozpin hadn't been for nothing, and Qrow always did say real combat experience trumped anything they'd learn in a classroom. Would spending four years at Beacon really do any good?
If I joined now and graduated in four years, Pyrrha and the others would be eleven. Ruby would be nine. That would still give me plenty of time to make changes, but what benefit would I get? I'd be closer to Ozpin. Jaune glanced down at his hand, still covered. It bore Salem's mark. Being close to Ozpin might not necessarily be a good thing, though.
It might make him allies in the form of new teammates, and that could be valuable. But who was to say he couldn't make just as many on his own? He was strong enough to be a huntsman and confident enough to hold his own in a fight against the Grimm. There were better allies to be made. Maybe even some he knew of from the future. Qrow and Ironwood were two such examples, though it would depend on how much Ozpin had already converted them to his thinking. Either way, Beacon was out. There just wasn't anything he needed there.
But Vale was still the epicentre of everything important. There was more to Vale than Beacon, and he wanted to be close by when his friends did start. Even if I'm thirty when that happens, I'll still be able to help them. It's no different from what Qrow did for us.
"I'll be making the journey there soon," he said to Sun. "Very soon. Probably today. I hear it's a long trip."
"You're going through the desert!?"
"Isn't that the only way?" Jaune asked. "I know there are a lot of Grimm around, but I can hold my own. Don't worry about that."
"It's not that," Sun said, shaking his little head. "It's just that most people use the ships."
"Airships?"
"No, the actual ships. No one tries to travel east anymore, not with the Grimm. You take a ship west to Mistral and cross over it, and then take another straight to Vale." The faunus grinned. "No walking and no fighting Grimm. It's safer that way."
West and west? He hadn't considered it. Mistral was fairly well-connected however, so it wouldn't be too hard to travel across it. Easier than the Vale desert at any rate. There would be settlements and other villages along the way to stop and supply at. "Alright, I guess I'm going to Mistral first." He eyed Sun once more. He couldn't take him with him for fear of changing the future and losing Blake later down the line, but there was nothing to say he couldn't help out. "Tell you what; if you help find me a ship going to Mistral I'll give you some more lien. What do you say?"
Sun's smile split his face in two.
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The little faunus proved as good as his word, finding a ship within an hour – dragging Jaune down various alleyways to talk with shady characters he'd have never found on his own. Most looked at him with cunning and mistrustful smiles, but all became co-operative once the glint of lien caught their attention. To be fair, Sun was the only reason they entertained him that far. It hadn't taken him much longer to buy a favour owed by a ship owner to someone who might have been a smuggler once but had now retired. The favour had won a gruff grunt from the ship's captain, who had told him he'd best bring his own food if he didn't want to starve.
A little more lien had changed his mind, and he was soon welcomed onto the crew with open arms. On the other hand, he now understood why the man from before had been so willing to buy his scroll off him. The device was almost thirteen years ahead of release.
There was probably a warning about changing the future hidden there, but he couldn't bring himself to be too bothered. He needed the money. It was going towards saving the world, after all. Well, except for a little bit that was just going toward saving a young man in the making.
"Here," he said, handing over another thousand lien. Sun took it with wide eyes.
"So much? Y-You're sure, mister?" He instantly thought better of the question and stuffed it down his pants. "Too late now! You can't have it back."
He froze when Jaune's hand ruffled his wild hair.
"It's yours, Sun. Use it to look after yourself and your friends."
"Okay…" Sun went oddly quiet. "You'll be leaving. Won't you?"
"I will. I'm sorry."
"It's okay." Sun glowered and looked down at his feet. They were bare, Jaune noticed. Maybe the little guy would use some of that money to buy some shoes. He hoped so. He smiled as a thought occurred to him a second later. He didn't have to hope. He knew how Sun would turn out. With that in mind he knelt down and took the boy by the shoulders.
"You'll be okay, Sun. You're going to be a strong huntsman, I can tell. You'll be funny, loyal and brave, and one day you'll meet a girl who will become the most special person in the world to you. She'll be a flighty and stubborn thing, but she'll open up to you in time."
Sun stared at him with wide eyes. "I will…?"
"Yes. You'll have to be patient with her, but she'll be worth it, believe me." Sun had told him as such in one drinking session. Right before Blake overheard and smacked the faunus over the head with her book. She'd been bright red. The memory made him smile, but also feel a little sad that he wouldn't be able to experience that moment again.
Well, that was the thing about memories, wasn't it? Most people didn't get to go through them twice. He'd just have to hold on to the ones that were dear to him.
"How do you know, mister?" Sun asked. "Are you a wizard?"
"Ha, not me. I can just tell. Don't tell anyone, but I can see the future. How do you think I knew you were going to pickpocket me?"
Seventeen-year-old Sun wouldn't have fallen for it, even if it was the truth. Seven-year-old Sun was naïve and trusting, even as an orphan. "Ha! I knew it! I knew there was no way you could have caught me. A good thief never gets caught." The boy's sorrow at seeing the kind old guy go faded and he hopped in place, clearly excited. "Hey mister. What happens to me in the end?"
Sun lay slumped over Blake's body, face hidden against her still form. Neither of them moved. Neither of them drew breath. Their weapons lay shattered nearby.
"Mister?" Sun asked, suddenly nervous. "Is it bad…?"
"You live a good life," Jaune said, forcing the words out. "You and the woman you love live happily ever after."
Jaune stood with a final pat on Sun's head and turned towards the ship. He mounted it without a word and stood at the prow, staring out over the ocean towards Mistral, and beyond it, Vale. Sun would get his happy ending this time around.
He'd make sure of it.
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Sun watched as the ship pulled away, taking with it the strange man that had entered and left his life so suddenly. It still felt like a dream, especially the suddenness. Or maybe it was the look in the man's eyes; like he was about to cry, or that maybe he'd seen something that had broken him, and yet something else had given him hope.
The thoughts were too complicated for a seven-year-old to fully grasp. He looked down at the lien instead. It would feed him and his friends for a year or two, and there would even be more left over for him to spend on something of his own.
"A huntsman…" Sun whispered, clenching and unclenching his fist. He'd never considered it before. He stared at his palm a little longer, before a wide grin started to appear. "That sounds pretty cool."
And when he became a huntsman he could travel the world. Maybe he'd even find that girl the old man talked about. Heck, why not find the old man himself and show him how strong he'd gotten when he was older? It would be fun to see his face and show him his lien hadn't been thrown away on some random street urchin.
And luckily, he knew just where to find the guy.
"Vale, huh? I'll have to check that place out when I'm big."
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The journey by ship took a number of days. It shouldn't have bothered him since he effectively had ten years, but it did. He hated to be stuck in one place for so long, especially when there was nothing to do. His motion sickness had been cured years ago, if he'd ever really had it. In the end it had been Ren who pointed out it was likely more nausea caused by nerves and fear. He'd been terrified on his approach to Beacon the first time, after all.
He spent the time on the ship doing the only thing he could, training. The sailors had been a little surprised to see a huntsman fighting topless on the deck each morning, and the Captain had been later put out when some of the men stopped working to watch the spectacle. Eventually they'd all gotten used to it however, and by the third day no one batted an eyelid as he ran up and down the deck, did push-ups, or even helped the sailors pull the rigging and operate the sails, all to build up what muscle he had.
It wasn't that hard, thankfully. Salem had done well when she made the body for him – and she'd said she had constructed it for him with the Relic of Creation, which meant it wasn't even hisbody to begin with. Maybe that had been another reason for her mark; so that she could know him inside and out. There were plenty of aspects about his physical form Salem didn't know, after all. Things like what lay beneath his clothing. That was all perfectly normal, though. No nasty surprises hiding in his underpants.
Still, the main point was that he'd been sent back, and that entailed him being sent back in his body – or into a body that was identical to his in the future. Either way, he didn't have to relearn anything or grow strong from childhood like he might have had Salem actually reversed time. There was a distinction there and it was probably a strong one. Sending him back was magic that only had to affect him, while reversing time would have required power capable of taking hold of every living creature on Remnantand sending them back.
It was all semantic really. The main point was that he was still strong – and any extra training would just add to that. There was no having to relearn the sword, although there was a consideration for learning something new altogether. As Qrow often said, it was nice to have a few tricks up your sleeves.
The time on the ship also gave him time to plan, and it was that which really tested him. He'd gone back ten years before Beacon, which was about thirteen years from when the battle against Salem had occurred. He was twenty now, or close enough, but his friends were all seven. Changing the future was still a given; it was going to happen if he had anything to say about it. But how far to change the future was a bigger problem. So far he didn't think he'd made any drastic changes and that was probably for the best.
If I'd brought Sun with me then he wouldn't go to Vale and he might not have met Blake. That doesn't sound bad at first, but it's only because of him that Blake survives against Roman – and later on in Menagerie. One small act of kindness from him could have doomed Blake to die, and Team RWBY to shatter in their grief.
Of course, that was unless he took out Roman early – something he could easily do in ten years' time. The thief was slippery, but he'd be young and inexperienced now, and sooner or later Jaune would find him. It might take a year or two, but hey, he had time. It was definitely an option. But, again, it came with complications.
Take out Roman and Cinder would have someone else steal the Paladin and do her dirty work for her, and it wasn't like he could erase all criminality in Vale. Someone would step up into the power vacuum Roman left behind. Killing Cinder would have been the easiest choice, but Cinder Fall was an obviously fake name, and it wasn't like he'd ever had any idea where she came from. He couldn't storm Salem's tower because, obviously, the Salem of this time would kill him with ease. Also, if he killed Roman then Ruby wouldn't get into Beacon.
Was it better to let Roman live so that he'd know exactly who he had to deal with later? It felt like a cop out but better the enemy you knew, and the scenario. The main job should be ending Cinder, and if he knew exactly who Cinder was going to deal with in Vale, then that would be a lot easier.
I've got time, he told himself, sighing. No decisions had to be made yet and there was nothing to say he couldn't meddle a little. Maybe Roman was best left to his own devices, but that left plenty of other options. He could dip his own fingers into the criminal underworld if he wanted to. It wouldn't hurt to have some friends who could keep an eye on Roman.
Or to become Roman's ally himself… The man wasn't exactly loyal to Cinder's doctrine; he'd just been looking out for his own skin. Could I make a more attractive offer than Cinder? Do I need to? If I just make a worse threat, he might fold to save himself.
And what about the White Fang? He might be in a position to stop it going violent – but what if in doing so he prevented Blake from ever attending Beacon? He might doom the world in that case.
"Ugh, this is complicated." Jaune gripped his head in one hand and sighed again. As a mental exercise thinking over everything in life you could change was a bottomless pit, but actually living it and knowing those changes might shape the fate of the world was a little more daunting. "I'll leave Roman for now. I can deal with him right up until the last minute if I have to. Roman, Cinder and the White Fang are just small fry, though. Saving Beacon is important but that's a decade away."
Salem and Ozpin were the real Goliaths to deal with. One had to be killed; the other had to be… dealt with, somehow. Not murder or at least he certainly hoped not. Ozpin was a bastard but he was, technically, on their side.
But could he change Ozpin's mind? The man was ancient; quite possibly thousands of years old. There was no way he'd listen to the words of a stranger in the same way Jaune wouldn't listen if anyone told him the right thing to do was work with Salem.
Ozpin wants to kill Salem and anything that leads to that is good. Even if I told him I came from the future he'd just try and make it happen the same way. He could even kill me if he thought I was an obstacle. He did have Salem's mark, after all. Ozpin wouldn't even stop to ask questions before he pulled out his mumbo-jumbo magic.
That was something he should probably look into as well. Ozpin was a wizard of some kind, and the one responsible for giving Qrow and Raven the ability to turn into birds. He'd also created the maidens, both as some kind of anti-Grimm force, but also keys to the locks that hid the Relics from Salem. How far did that kind of power go? Why hadn't he used it against Salem? What the hell was Magic, anyway? Could anyone become a wizard?
Too many questions, and he'd made most of his mistakes in life by being afraid to ask questions. This time would be different, and he had ten years or more to prepare. "I can't ask Ozpin but there has to be some way of finding out about him, either through old legends or more fairy tales. I can't just ignore the fact he's a wizard. That would be ridiculous."
In the end he had to focus on the immediate problems first, and then he could deal with the big ones. The first issue was his identity, since he obviously couldn't be Jaune Arc in this lifetime. There was probably another Jaune Arc out there. Luckily Crocea Mors was different enough now to be unrecognisable - a sign of Pyrrha's sacrifice - but that wasn't the only issue. He needed an identity creating, and he needed a means of earning money. Money for food, living and all the other things that made Remnant turn.
Being a huntsman would be the easiest way of achieving that and since he wanted to influence things later down the line that involved huntsmen and huntresses, it would work in his favour. You didn't actually have to attend an academy to become a huntsman, however. It was just the usual way it was done. You could become one officially by proving yourself capable, usually in the form of tests and a display of your skill.
"That'll require an ID though. No one's going to accept me if I don't have one. I'll need to find someone capable of crafting a good fake." Vale was the obvious choice, either through Junior – if he was even in the business at this point – or someone else. He at least knew Vale well enough to find the criminal underground there.
Once the ID was taken care of he'd need to visit an Academy for the tests and impress a headmaster to become a huntsman officially. Beacon was out of the question for the obvious issue of Ozpin, as was Haven because Lionheart would still be there. He had no idea where Shade was, and he'd just come from Vacuo so that would be a pain. That left Atlas as the obvious choice and, if he was lucky, Ironwood might still be the headmaster there. Or maybe `already be the headmaster` might be the right way to phrase it. At least Ironwood could be trusted to not give anything away to the wrong side, even if he was close to Ozpin.
And if he could win Ironwood's trust, perhaps before even Ozpin did? Well, that would be a thing. Jaune's smile, stressed for so long, took on a more confident edge. Ren had once said he was always strongest when he had a plan, and now that he did he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.
"Okay, reach Vale, get a fake ID and then go to Atlas to become a huntsman," he decided. Focus on the short-term now, and then decide what to do in the long run later. Investigating Ozpin, wizards, Salem and how he could make his own allies could wait. He had to survive in this time first. "And whatever happens, I can't afford to change anything too drastic. Not until I've got a better idea of what's going to happen."
Luckily, he hadn't done much other than toss Sun some lien.
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Bright light and fear shot through her, waking her instantly. Gasping for breath and fighting past the hands that tried to hold her down, she tried to scream, only to find her throat hoarse and her voice weak.
"Calm down. Calm down," a voice urged. "Please calm down. You are having a nightmare. All is well. You are safe, young lady."
The words were alien, the speaker unfamiliar. The bright haze before her eyes began to dim, however, and as it did she began to realise that she was not in immediate danger at all. It was not the sun that burned down on her but a bright dust-powered light. Her breath came out in harsh pants, but she allowed herself to be pushed down onto a soft mattress. "T-The Grimm," she croaked. "I… attack…"
"I know, my dear. You need to remain calm. You're in Shade Academy, receiving the best treatment in all of Vacuo." The motherly woman's voice was firm. "There is no need for fear or struggle here. If you'll stay calm, I'll answer your questions as best I can. Do you understand?"
"Yes. Thank you." As her eyes adjusted to the light she realised there was a nurse at her side, grasping one of her hands between two of hers. The woman was elderly at best, her skin wrinkled, but her smile was caring and soft.
"You're going to be okay, little lass. Your wounds are healing, and you are going to be fine." The woman spoke the words slowly, making sure she understood. "Your body just needs time to recover. Nothing bad is going to happen to you here."
The relief was crushing, painfully so. A broken sob escaped her, followed by more tears that fought past her control to seep from her eyes. She'd been so sure she was going to die. She'd… the wounds she'd taken… and there had been so many Grimm. So many. How had she even survived?
"You're safe," a warm and gentle voice whispered into her mind. "I've got you."
Y-Yes, there had been the man, hadn't there? Her memory was jumbled and faded but his face was one she felt she could remember, even if she'd been so certain at the time it was some creature from the next life. She could remember his eyes, blue like the ocean.
"You're safe now. Rest."
The fight left her at that. She slumped back, relaxing at last, and that gave her a moment to take in the world around her, revealing that she was on a bed that was impossibly soft, with white linen drawn up to her breasts. Her clothes were missing, replaced with a pale green medical gown. There was also an IV stuck into her left arm, but she forced her eyes not to dwell on that.
"W-Where am I?"
"Shade Academy, Vacuo."
Oh, yes. She'd said that before. Her head was fuzzy, and she tried to bring a hand up to cup it, only for the woman to gently take it and push it back down again.
"Try not to move, dearie. You were brought here by a small tribe that travels the desert. You owe them your lives, though they asked us not to tell you their names. Apparently, their culture believes true charity should never be rewarded, and as such they would not give you the chance of feeling you owed them." The woman smiled. "Such a beautiful notion, especially in today's world."
"H-Healed me," she breathed. "One… healed… me…"
"They must have cared for you, yes," the woman agreed, missing the point. "Your body had evidence of so many wounds, all thankfully closed. You must have an incredibly strong aura."
No, she didn't. It was okay but that was all. But that man – the one with the ocean eyes. She could remember feeling his aura suffusing her, strengthening her. The memory was blurred still, little more than snippets of words and images. One thing she could remember was the beauty of it, though. The feeling of his soul meshing with hers, if only for a moment.
He'd told her she would be safe. She would never have trusted a stranger with that normally, but for that moment – for one second – it felt like they'd been one. She'd known with all her heart and soul that she could trust him. He only wanted to help her.
"We found your details on your person and contacted your home kingdom," the nurse matron said. "I spoke to Ozpin myself, and he was truly relieved to hear of your survival. He told me to assure you he has spoken to your family directly. They know you're okay."
This time the tears came, great big fat ones that fell from her eyes to run down her cheeks. Her family. She had, at the end, given up hope of ever seeing them again. She'd said her goodbyes inside, knowing they'd never hear them again. To know that wasn't the case wasn't just a relief, it was a feeling that left her a sobbing mess.
"Shush now. There, there," the matron said kindly, dabbing at her cheeks and laying one warm hand against her face. "Everything is going to work out now. You need to rest but you'll be free to leave before the week is out. I'll see about having someone come to write a message for you. It will be delivered to your loved ones."
The smile that came over her face was watery. "T-Thank you. I… I don't know what I'm crying. I'm just so relieved… I thought… I thought I was going to-"
"Not now." The woman silenced her with a finger. "You are safe now, my dear. There is no fear or worry here. All of Shade stands guard. Now, I just need to run through a few quick tests to make sure there is no lasting damage or complications. Can you tell me your name?"
"Summer Rose."
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"You want to take an airship to the west coast?" The man at the gates of Mistral rubbed his chin. "Those don't fly often and not for one man. You might wait until next week; I hear an SDC one will be making the journey. Not sure they'd take you on board, but money speaks."
"A week?" Jaune's face fell. It wasn't much in the face of ten years, but the inaction would frustrate him, and even staying in Mistral without an ID to his name would be risky. "How long is the journey on foot?"
"Four days, maybe five. Depends on your pace. It's dangerous, though."
"I think I'll be alright."
"You're a huntsman, I take it. Aye, it might be okay for you and there are plenty of villages on the way to stop off at. Just don't be sleeping out alone if you can help it. The world doesn't need its huntsmen dropping off in their sleep."
Jaune nodded and laughed along with them as he made his way out of the gates and to the west. The decision to not even spend a day in Mistral hadn't just been motivated by his lack of an ID, but also the inaction he'd been forced into on the ship. There wasn't much he could do here, knowing he couldn't convince Lionheart to side with him, or kill him for fear of landing himself in jail. He didn't even really know if the man had turned traitor yet.
In the end he'd stopped long enough to buy a pack full of food and supplies, along with some maps of Mistral, a compass and a heavy coat more suited to Mistral – the flowing Del'Ashari robes not exactly faring as well in rain and forest as they did in sandy desert.
A couple of days walking wasn't what he'd expected on coming back to the past, but it was nothing new, and considering this was Mistral – where he, Ruby, Ren and Nora had trekked years ago – it was almost familiar. Less damaged, of course, and he meant that in a good way. There were signs of human life and habitation, along with the occasional traveller he passed on the way. Most kept to themselves though each spared a nod at the sight of another person. There had been a faunus who snorted angrily at him, but little else.
As the hours passed by he found himself falling into an easy routine, and the paths he walked were, for the most part, fairly well trod and free of Grimm. As the sun began to descent in the sky, heralding the arrival of the evening, he paused to draw out and consult his map.
"I could have sworn there was a village somewhere around here," he mumbled, using the dwindling light to check the details. He already regretted not buying a scroll in Mistral, or at least a torch. "Hm. It shouldn't be that far away and there should be a place I can stay." Most villages and towns, frontier or not, had inns for travellers. Space was in abundance outside of the cities and was often one of the few commodities these people had.
If he was lucky he might even get a stiff drink and a cooked meal. The memory of sailor's biscuits and street snacks in Mistral gave him strength, and the allure of a steak, stew or some other meaty dish driving him forwards. Qrow was the one for alcohol in their little group and while he'd tried some he'd never really gotten a taste for it. That said, right now he wouldn't say no to anything to take the edge off. Maybe that was why Qrow had loved it so, not for its taste but rather what relief it offered a tired and broken man.
Some twigs crackled to his left, off the main path. Jaune paused almost immediately. So close to civilisation Grimm shouldn't appear but there were more threats for lonely travellers. His hand shifted to the hilt of his sword, prepared for what might come.
It wasn't long in the coming. The Beowolf roared as it charged from the underbrush, red eyes glinting. Its fury was unmatched, all snarling teeth and a wide, open jaw. With the element of surprise on its side it swiped down at him from above, seeking to cut him in two. Its claws caught on the top of his shield instead, on the cross guard of Crocea Mors itself.
"Just the one?" Jaune asked easily. The Beowolf growled its confusion but he punched his shield into its face before it could do anything. Stunned, it staggered back, and he used the motion to step into its guard, grip his still sheathed blade, and draw it in one swift motion.
The Beowolf fell back, slumping to the ground as he cleaned his blade on a pant leg and sheathed it.
"Odd. Grimm shouldn't be out this far, not around villages and such. The militia should have dealt with them by now."
It didn't bode well. He quickened his pace, falling into a jog. The village should have been visible by now, or at least audible. It wasn't so late at night that the gates would be sealed and there should still be travellers out and hunters or farmers working the land.
He saw the smoke before he did the village.
It was burning.
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