**Back to the present.**
"That's the gist of it," Ray finishes.
Qrow chuckles. "Heh, of all the reasons to abandon a life of banditry, they got you with hot showers. I wish it were that easy with your mom."
His expression turns serious. He clears his throat. "Well, I'm not really supposed to tell you this, but... I may be able to get you into Beacon. The headmaster and I are real close. If I put in a good word, there's no way he'd turn you down."
"Beacon?" Ray asks. "Isn't that all the way in Vale? How the hell am I supposed to get there?"
"You take a boat or a plane. I'll give you some lien to cover the travel cost. It's the least I can do to get my favorite nephew out of this shithole."
Ray frowns at the casual insult to the tribe—he doesn't entirely disagree, but it stings. "Why Beacon, though? Surely I could qualify for Haven, and it's not so far."
"I have a feeling your mom won't be too happy with your decision," Qrow says, "and I have it on good authority that Beacon is the one place she won't go to drag you back."
Ray hums thoughtfully.
Qrow leans in with a conspiratorial smirk. "And I'm *really* not supposed to tell you this, but your twin sister Yang is going to be attending there."
Ray's eyes widen. Qrow's grin widens—he knows this is the hook.
"Fine," Ray says. "I'm really looking forward to... indoor plumbing. My days of shitting in dirt holes are over. Oh, and meeting my twin sister would be a great bonus. If I'm going to meet her, you should finally tell me what she's like, Uncle!"
"Your sister's... a handful," Qrow replies. "I call her Firecracker, and I think that about sums it up."
Ray nods sagely, though he doesn't fully grasp the term.
"About your sister, kid," Qrow adds carefully. "This is a tough ask, I know, but could you maybe use a different last name when you go there?"
Ray bristles. He is the son of Raven Branwen—the beautiful, fearsome bandit queen of southern Anima, feared as the strongest Huntress alive. Why would he hide that name?
Qrow sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Look, kid, your mom's a famous bandit queen. What if the kids at Beacon had friends or family robbed or killed by her tribe? They could poison everyone against you, and you'd never make a friend."
"Hm. If they can't accept the ways of our people, then they aren't worth my friendship."
"What about your sister? I really don't think she'd like it either. What if enough people pressure the headmaster into expelling you? Then it's back to shitting in the woods."
Ray hesitates. "Hmmmm. I would hate to leave a bad first impression on my sister. And I definitely don't want to get expelled..." Still, he refuses to pretend. "How about a compromise, Uncle? I'll use *your* last name instead."
"Tch, cheeky little brat." Qrow shakes his head. "Just... answer me, please."
"I must decline, Uncle. I will proudly be the son of Raven Branwen until I draw my last breath. Besides, the Branwen name is known as much for its heroism as its treachery... you're a famous Huntsman, right?"
Qrow mutters something under his breath about damn brats. "Look, kid, things will be awkward with your sister at first if you do this. Go easy on her, okay? She's been through a lot."
"Of course, Uncle. I don't want to hurt my sister. I really appreciate you sticking your neck out for me like this."
"You're telling me. Your mom's gonna start actually enforcing that kill-on-sight order once she learns I tempted her 'baby boy' away." Qrow takes another long pull from his canteen—his tenth giant gulp, by Ray's count.
"Speaking of—how should I break it to Mother?"
"Honestly, kid, you know her better than I do at this point. Maybe stroke her ego. Claim you wanna be just like Mommy Dearest and go to a Huntsman academy. Say you want Haven, then hop the first plane to Vale. Once you're near Beacon, she'll leave you alone. Trust me."
Ray bids his uncle good night and returns to his tent—a slightly smaller, less regal one pitched right beside Raven's. He lies on the scratchy woolen blanket, staring at the canvas ceiling. Thoughts of tomorrow's confrontation with his mother consume him until he drifts into a restless sleep.
Morning arrives, heavy with dread. Ray sits across from Raven in her tent, eating breakfast. She picks lightly at her eggs, clearly still nursing a hangover.
"Good morning, Mother," he says, trying to sound casual. His voice comes out squeaky; sweat beads on his forehead.
Raven cocks an eyebrow. "Good morning, son. Feeling unwell?"
"Not exactly. You see... well..." He swallows hard and blurts it all out in a rush—the desire to be like her, the elite teachers, new fighting styles, leadership, tactics, rhetoric, everything the tribe never had time to teach.
"Ray. Slow down," she says. "You said you want to attend a Huntsman academy?"
"Yes, Mother..." He wilts under her gaze.
"Where did you get this idea?"
"I fought some Huntsmen-in-training during that raid last month. They were nothing special, but I figured if academies can turn soft city dwellers into warriors who could best anyone in the tribe—save us and Vernal—perhaps I would have much to gain."
Raven's expression grows complicated, maternal protectiveness warring with a quiet pride in seeing him spread his wings. Her lips press thin; one eyebrow arches. "And which Huntsman academy, pray tell, do you want to attend?"
"I... may have overheard that Yang—" Raven winces at the name "—lived in Vale, and I figured if I attended Beacon, I could meet my sister and go to school. Kill two birds with one stone." He inwardly cringes at the unfortunate metaphor.
Raven remains silent for several long, agonizing moments. Then: "You promise to return to me when Beacon is over? You won't abandon your mother and your people like your uncle did?" Her eyes hold rare desperation.
Ray straightens immediately. "Never! You're the woman who loved me and raised me. I could never abandon you. I love you!"
"Good. I love you too, Ray." Her voice softens. "Now tell me the truth—did Qrow put this idea in your head?"
"Not... really? I was thinking about Haven, like those boys I talked to during the raid. But Uncle Qrow mentioned my sister would be attending Beacon, and he said he could guarantee I'd get in, so I figured... why not Beacon, right? Haha..." His laugh is nervous.
"Qrow..." Raven snarls the name under her breath, then sighs in frustration. "It's okay, Mother isn't mad at you, Ray. And I won't skin your uncle's hide for this."
Ray exhales in relief.
"I can't keep you in my nest forever," she says. "If you want to go to Beacon, you may do so with my blessing. I expect you to grow and come back stronger, my son."
"Of course, Mother. I won't let you down."
Things must be serious—she's using bird metaphors, which she usually hates. Ray abandons all pretense and throws himself into her arms. She startles, then smiles smugly, running her fingers through his hair as she returns the embrace.
"Really. Seventeen years old and still attached at the hip to your mother," she teases, sounding far from displeased. "Perhaps this study abroad is just what you need."
They hold the hug for several moments before she pulls back, meeting his eyes. "How do you intend to make it to Vale, Ray? In case you forgot, there's an ocean between Anima and Sanus. You can hardly walk there."
"Uncle Qrow... sort of gave me a bit of lien to book travel to Vale." Ray fidgets with the 3000 lien in his pocket.
"Hmm. How convenient."
"I swear that's the truth."
She studies him, then nods. "I believe you—though that doesn't mean I fully trust Qrow. I'll have words with him the next time he deigns to visit home. If he ever does, with you gone." She pauses. "When will you leave? It'll take you a month to get to Vale if you go by air from Mistral City. A month and a half if you leave from the port of Argus by boat."