I’ve been wandering the fields around Mount Olympus for what feels like hours.
These landscapes—forests and meadows, stretching endlessly under the shadow of the mountain, have become familiar to me. I’ve traced their paths countless times, always reaching the edge but never daring to step beyond. Today, though, there’s something different in the air, a pull that brought me here. Yet despite my searching, there’s no sign of whoever—or whatever—summoned me.
For a while, I start to wonder if perhaps no one did. Maybe I slipped into this realm unnoticed, drifting aimlessly among gods who have more pressing matters. After all, it wouldn’t be strange. The Olympians have their own affairs, their influence spreading far across Remnant. Why would they bother with…
A green dog.
A massive, furry creature rests lazily in the tall grass, its fur an unnatural shade of green, rolling about as if the ground beneath it were the most comfortable place in all creation. Its tongue lolls out as it pants in blissful ignorance of everything around it. The sight stops me dead in my tracks. Blinking, trying to refocus my mind, I take a step closer. The dog, sensing my approach, pauses its rolling and locks eyes with me, its growl deep and resonant.
I raise a hand, trying to appear calm, inching forward. It's like a strange dance—the creature watches me, wary, but not yet hostile. I move slowly, letting the bizarre situation unfold. Eventually, the dog relaxes, accepting my hand on its head. I begin to pet it, feeling the surprising softness of its fur beneath my fingers. It sniffs me, tail starting to wag. As I scratch behind its ears and down its neck, it flops over, revealing its belly in playful surrender.
The absurdity of the moment stretches on, and I finally break the silence. "Artemis, are you drunk again?"
The dog freezes, eyes widening. "I do not know this... Artemis of whom you speak, mortal."
I blink. "You're green."
The wolf—goddess—huffs indignantly. "Well, maybe in Olympus wolves are green! How would you know?"
I laugh despite myself. "You're literally talking to me."
Her eyes go wide, and she scrambles to recover. "Rawr... Raw-raw... Awrara..." She drops her head in defeat. "Damn, I blew it, didn’t I?"
I pat her head sympathetically. "It could’ve been worse."
She rolls back, sulking. "I had this whole test prepared! I was going to lead you up the mountain in disguise, make you help me like some kind of noble stranger... You know, see if you'd do it out of the goodness of your heart."
"We... we could still do that if you want?" I offer, half-heartedly.
She lets out a huff, clearly embarrassed. "No, no. Don’t pity me. I’m not looking for charity."
The awkward silence that follows is thick. I glance down at her exposed belly, which she's left vulnerable despite the failed charade. "So... would it be weird if I kept scratching your belly? I mean, it'd be weird to stop now, right?"
Her ears perk up, and she narrows her eyes at me. "You've really been spending too much time with Aphrodite."
I grin. "Is that a 'no'?"
She sighs, defeated. "Fine... Just a little bit..."
“Heh… Artemis, lend me your Wildness.”
?
I wake up in my bed. The remnants of the dream quickly fade as reality sets in. Today, we’re all supposed to pack our things and move into our new dorms—shared team spaces for the next four years. It sounds cool, but there’s one small problem... I’m not alone.
Rin is still asleep next to me, having fallen asleep after we managed to talk things through last night. Well, mostly talk, she didn’t say much.
"Jaune!" Artemis’s voice screams in my head. "You... You can't just bring me into your room like this!"
"Oh, sorry..." I scratch the back of my head awkwardly. "I kind of forgot."
"You forgot?! I thought Athena was being paranoid!"
"I didn’t sleep with her!"
“What do you call this, then?! Friendly bonding?!”
By the time I realize I’m shouting like a lunatic, Rin is already waking up. She opens her eyes slowly, lying still, both hands on her stomach. Her gaze flicks around the room, clearly processing where she is—and pretending she isn’t. A faint blush colors her cheeks, her only outward reaction.
“Gee, what did Aphrodite do here? Look at her—I've seen rabbits whose hearts don't beat that fast.”
"Rin?" I say softly, glancing down at her. Her eyes dart away. "We should probably start moving stuff. Need a hand?"
I’m not just offering out of kindness. Honestly, I don’t have much to pack. Not much of a life to bring into Beacon. That was the entire point.
Rin shakes her head, almost imperceptibly.
"Hey, Jaune," Artemis interrupts, her tone playful. "Tell her she looks pretty."
What? Why?
Without further explanation, the goddess takes my hand and places it gently on Rin's cheek. Half her face is obscured by her dark hair, and my fingers brush against her scar. Instead of pulling away, she freezes completely.
“Sorry!” I blurt out, panicking. "I just thought... you looked really pretty." Her trembling gaze pierces through me, and I swallow hard. "Listen, I know last night was an accident, but I’m glad you came. I’m here if you ever feel... lonely again."
“Heavens. You’re corny as fuck, dawg.”
Why don’t you go back to being a dog?!
Just when Rin is about to say something, we hear a loud knock at the door and stare at each other for a moment. Neither of us knowing what to say, I get on my feet and go see who’s there.
“Helloooooo~” Pyra Nikkos stands in the doorway, fresh as a rose, her uniform immaculate, a bright smile lighting up her face. “Since we’re moving into the same dorm, I thought I’d ask my fearless leader for a bit of help.”
“Oh... Oh.” I stumble over my words, desperately searching for a version of this conversation that won’t end in disaster. “Could I, uh... get back to you in like, twenty minutes? I really need a shower and... I sort of promised to help Rin, I think?”
Pyra’s eyes widen slightly before she laughs, a little too casually. “Rin, huh? Guess she beat me to it. Maybe we could all pack together then? Do you know where she went?”
"Jaune, lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie," Artemis urges, panic creeping into her voice.
My mind blanks. "Uh... she's here... Do you want to talk to her?"
I glance back, and to my relief, Rin has already stumbled out of bed, hastily trying to tame her disheveled morning hair into something that resembles her usual look. Her voice is barely a whisper.
“I need help... Lots of help.”
Pyra's expression remains overly cheerful, but there’s an edge to it—her eyes closed, posture a bit too rigid, hands neatly clasped behind her back. “I guess some of us started moving in together pretty early…”
By the time we begin carrying boxes into the new dorm building, the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. It doesn’t help that both Rin and I are carrying just a few small boxes each, barely enough to fill half a room. I can't help but notice how little Rin and Nora seem to own just a few changes of clothes and less than a handful of personal items. If anything, their past is written in what they don’t carry with them, and it doesn’t feels like they just abandoned their lives like me.
Still, I decide not to ask. After all, I’m not that different from them.
Our new living space is surprisingly spacious: two bedrooms—each with two beds—connected by a shared common room. Feeling like it isn’t the best moment to be deciding who will be sleeping with who, we agree to leave that for the end of the day and instead go get ready for our first class.
The lecture hall roars with energy when we arrive, the chatter of excited students filling the air. At the front of the room stands a man whose rounded figure and boisterous demeanor command attention.
“Ha-HA!” he exclaims, clapping his hands together with a theatrical flourish. “I must say, never have I seen such eagerness in the face of danger! Good, very good... I can already tell we’ll be making some magnificent huntsmen out of you!”
Despite his goofy appearance, Peter Port is a scary man, that much had been settled. His semblance—Beastmaster—allowed him to bind wild Grimm to his will and train them, an otherwise seemingly impossibly feat.
Standing beside him is a tall, sharp-eyed woman whose presence demands respect. Her voice, calm and deliberate, cuts through the silence that follows Port’s theatrics.
“Indeed, there were plenty of opportunities for bravery during yesterday’s initiation,” she says, her gaze sweeping across the room like a hawk searching for prey. “And rest assured, we’ll be keeping a close eye on certain teams—teams we expect will be working together sooner rather than later.”
The room collectively exhales as the two imposing figures step aside, leaving us in the care of the man whose energy seems barely contained by his slender frame. His green hair is as wild as his movements, which are rapid and jittery—like he’s running on pure adrenaline.
“Good morning, everyone!” he begins, his words spilling out in a caffeinated rush. “First things first, I’m sure you’ll all be thrilled to hear that we’ll be heading outside the academy again this evening for a little field research! Exciting, isn’t it? But before we dive into that, I think we should kick off the day with some context! About a hundred years of context, to be precise!”
He pauses, his eyes scanning the room, but it feels less like a pause and more like he’s building momentum for his next sentence.
“Now then!” he exclaims. “Who here can tell me the main reason for war and struggle over the past century? Anyone? Don’t be shy!”
“The filthy Faunus!” the guy with the eagle on his chest—Cardin Winchester—screams from the back. He smirks as his cronies erupt in obnoxious laughter and cheers.
“Excuse me?!” Pyrrha instinctively screams, unable to stop herself.
Cardin’s smirk deepens. “Oh, what’s the matter? Are you still sore from running off like a coward yesterday, sweet cheeks? I guess some teams are just better than others.”
“Ah, Mr. Winchester,” the professor interjects. “Since you seem so eager to share, perhaps you can enlighten us. Why has the conflict between humans and Faunus persisted for so long, despite humanity’s overwhelming numbers?”
Cardin leans back lazily. “Well, it’s easier to train an animal than a soldier.”
“You’re… Not the most open minded of individuals, are you Cardin?” Pyrrha continues, struggling to keep herself calm.
“What? You’ve got a problem with that?”
“No,” she replies evenly, though her gaze sharpens. “I’ve got the answer. Humans have always relied too heavily on numbers, underestimating the Faunus and their unique abilities.”
Before Cardin can retort, another voice joins the discussion.
“Many Faunus possess augmented senses, superior physical abilities, night vision, or natural camouflage,” says a tall, dark-haired girl from the other side of the room. “Meanwhile, mankind has a knack for rallying behind loudmouthed idiots who charge in without thinking only to fail spectacularly. Sound familiar, Cardin?”
The class erupts into laughter. Cardin’s confident smile disappears for a moment, his face flushing red as he looks around at everyone else.
Before the exchange can escalate further, Professor Oobleck claps his hands. “Ah, fascinating insights from all parties! Truly a testament to the power of spirited debate! However, let us save such lively discussions for a more fitting venue, shall we? Now, where were we…?”
The unease lingers, crackling faintly in the air, but the class settles back into rhythm. Laughter dies down, replaced by the droning cadence of Oobleck’s lecture. When the session finally ends, Cardin is the first to storm out, his team trailing awkwardly behind like sheep with nowhere better to go.
As I gather my things, a familiar voice finally joins me.
“Soooo... we killin’ that dawg, or what?”
“What?”
Artemis’s grin is casual, her tone deadly serious. “It’ll be fun! Besides, I’m sure it’ll earn you some points with that Faunus girl you like.”
“What Faunus girl?”
“You know. Tall? Dark hair? Quiet? I like her.”
“Blake?” I blink. “I don’t think she’s a Faunus.”
“Oh, well, I guess you’d know. Anyway, back to the killing thing…”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
?
There’s something really unsettling about how easily Artemis can go from charmingly carefree to deeply unhinged. Her relaxed demeanor often makes me forget she’s as wild as the rest of the Olympians, or perhaps even more so. Then again, I can’t entirely blame her. Nestled atop her cascade of chestnut-brown hair is a pair of delicate, deer-like antlers, subtle reminders of her divine connection to nature. She’s shown other animalistic traits, too, especially during hunting lessons. If any deity has an innate affinity for the Faunus, it’s probably Artemis.
Still, I push those thoughts aside and head for the cafeteria, eager to let the day’s troubles fade into the background and not kill any of my classmates.
“What took you so long, blondie?” Yang’s voice hits me just a second before her hand lands on my backside with an audible smack.
I flinch, feeling the heat rush to my face as Nora bursts into laughter.
“I was just thinking about what happened earlier,” I mumble, trying to keep my voice steady as I sit next to team RWBY, my ass burning a bit.
“Eh, don’t sweat it. Idiots will be idiots.” Blake yawns, resting her head lazily on one hand. “Not much we can do about it.”
“We could break his legs!” Nora yells with unnerving enthusiasm.
“Finally, some good ideas going around in here!” Artemis chimes in.
I open my mouth to redirect the conversation—calm things down a notch—but laughter erupts from the far side of the cafeteria, sharp and cruel. Cardin stands at the center of it, holding a rabbit Faunus girl by her ears. He yanks on them with casual cruelty, his teammates doubling over in laughter.
“I told you they were real!”
“What a fucking freak!”
Artemis doesn’t say a word, but I don’t need her to. The way her jaw tightens and her fingers flex tells me everything. A deep heat stirs in my chest, an anger that isn’t entirely my own. It’s hers—fierce, wild, and demanding justice.
And for once, I agree with her.
Cardin’s odds of avoiding a mysterious accident right outside the academy have just plummeted, but even so, I’m not quite ready to let him be found on a ditch, mauled by wild beasts.
Not yet, at least.
Pushing back the fire threatening to boil in my heart, I get to my feet, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“Hey,” I call out. “Let her go.”
“And what if I—”
There’s no second warning.
My shield connects with his jaw in a single motion, sending him howling to the floor. The sound of cracking impact echoes louder than I expected, and for a moment, the entire cafeteria falls silent.
Cardin groans, clutching his own face as he struggles to process what just happened. I can’t tell if it’s his pride or his jaw that’s more broken, but either way, he’s done. He stumbles to his feet, eyes watering with pain, and mumbles something unintelligible before fleeing the room with his tail between his legs.
I glance at the rabbit Faunus. She’s trembling but quickly slips away, out of sight before I can say anything.
The tension in the room dissolves, replaced by a wave of calm I didn’t expect. Artemis’s fury recedes from my mind like a tide pulling back, leaving me steady and centered. I’d rather avoid things like that, I don’t like picking who to hurt, but what I did was a slap on the wrist compared to what the goddess could have planned if her rage was allowed to fester.
I exhale deeply and return to my seat with a tired groan.
It takes a moment for me to notice everyone’s staring. Wide-eyed, mouths slightly open, as if trying to process what they just saw.
Yang is the first to break the silence, raising a hand. “Well, that was hot as fuck.”
?
After lunch, we gather for a field trip. This time, alongside Professor Oobleck stands a woman who wasn’t present during yesterday’s test.
She’s strikingly tall, her fair yet warm-toned skin mostly concealed by the crisp, Atlesian white of her lab coat. Her attire is accentuated by glossy, jet-black gloves that stretch past her elbows and matching boots that gleam under the afternoon light. Her soft green hair is neatly swept into a tight bun, and a pair of oversized lab goggles obscure much of her face, giving her an unmistakable air of meticulous precision.
It’s obvious at a glance—this woman is a scientist through and through.
“My name is Evelynn Peach,” she begins as she offers a slight, professional bow. “I oversee Natural Science and Biological Research here at Beacon.”
“Today marks the first of many expeditions into the wild biomes of Vale,” she continues. “These excursions are designed to familiarize you with the diverse forms of life thriving within our kingdom. As Huntsmen and Huntresses, your time will not only be spent fighting Grimm but also navigating and surviving in the unpredictable wilderness. My role is to ensure you have the knowledge and experience necessary to not only endure but thrive in any corner of our borders.”
This time, it’s Weiss Schnee who raises her hand. “And what about other kingdoms? Aren’t Huntsmen and Huntresses meant to operate beyond borders? This almost sounds like an effort to keep us here in Vale.”
“That’s…” Evelynn exhales slowly, folding her gloved hands in front of her. “That’s an incredibly valid and intelligent concern. And it’s one I’d love to address—if I had the funding or the curricular hours to go beyond the scope of the largest kingdom in Remnant.
She leans forward slightly, her goggles catching the light. “Feel free to lodge a complaint with Professor Ozpin. I do. Frequently, in fact. But for now,” she continues with a wry smile, “we’ll agree to make the most of what we have, and leave it at that. Shall we?”
And just like that, we begin the hour-long walk to the Forever Fall forest.
By the time we arrive, everyone is a little winded but far from worn out. The fatigue fades quickly, replaced by awe as we step into the forest’s surreal beauty. The canopy above glows a deep crimson, and the soft rustle of red leaves drifting to the ground creates an almost ethereal sense of rain. The air smells rich and earthy, tinged with something faintly metallic.
Professor Peach launches into a brief lecture, detailing how the forest’s peculiar conditions were linked to the presence of trace amounts of dust deeply embedded and diluted into the soil.
Once the explanations are done, the professors hand out the instruments for the task at hand.
“You’ll have a few hours to gather the specified samples. Stick to your teams, follow protocol, and make safety your priority. But for now, consider yourselves… free-range researchers.”
The tension from the morning feels like a distant memory as everyone naturally divides into their teams. For the next half-hour, we roam the forest, half-heartedly collecting samples while testing just how many trees Nora can drain of sap before the sugar rush catches up to her.
The answer remains a mystery.
Instead, we’re interrupted by the sharp crack of glass, followed by the jarring sensation of something sticky splattering across my shoulder. I turn around to look for the culprit, but whoever launched the jar of pink sap is long gone.
“Ugh… Sticky…” I mutter, inspecting the mess.
“You should probably wash that off by the river,” Pyrrha suggests, leaning closer to examine the dripping liquid. “I’ve heard Rapier Wasps have quite the sweet tooth. And then there’s Nora. She might just suck you d—” She stops herself, eyes widening in realization. “Lick you clean of sap!”
Before I can react, Artemis cuts in, looking bored. “Are all teenage girls this thirsty? Girl, just follow him to the river or something.”
“I’ll… just step away for a second, before all of this dries off.” I mutter, excusing myself and heading deeper into the forest.
With my jar already filled, there’s not much left to do. Wandering aimlessly, I decide it’s as good a time as any to talk with the wild goddess—preferably without looking completely insane. Once I reach the river, I set my jar down and take a moment to scrub off the sticky mess.
“Hey, Arts—"
“Remember that trick I taught you?”
I pause, confused. “The dog thing?”
“Do it.”
“Right now? Covered in goo? Can’t I clean myself up first?”
“Listen to me, dawg!”
“Alright, alright…”
Resigned, I mimic the gesture she taught me, shaping my hands to roughly resemble a dog’s head. The air shimmers faintly, and two spirits materialize from the ground itself, their translucent forms emanating a quiet but undeniable presence of wild power. The spectral dogs regard me briefly, their glowing eyes narrowing as they sniff the air. For a moment, I brace myself, half-expecting them to maul me for being a walking sugar trap. Instead, they begin pacing around a nearby tree, growling and barking at something unseen.
Before I can piece together what’s happening, Rin suddenly appears out of thin air like a guilty specter. She looks as embarrassed as ever, her gaze darting to the ground as if she’d rather disappear again.
Sensing her unease, I wave the spirits back.
“Caught you,” I say jokingly, trying to ease her discomfort. “So… Come around here often?”
Rin mutters something under her breath, cheeks flushed.
“Huh?”
“I… Saw…” she whispers, pointing to me. “Cardin.”
“Cardin? You mean this?” I pull at my half-washed hoodie. “You think he was up to something?”
Rin nods eagerly.
“Alright,” I sigh, rolling my shoulders. “We can take a look around.”
Closing my eyes, I focus on the connection to the wild spirits, reaching out with my mind. Images of Cardin flash briefly—his smug face, his heavy boots—and the goddess’s familiars respond immediately. The spectral wolves lower their heads, sniffing at the ground before darting off through the trees. It doesn’t take long before one picks up a trail, its nose locked to the scent. With a soft growl, it turns and dashes toward the horizon, where the light of the setting sun paints the forest in amber hues.
“Wanna tag along?” I ask, glancing at Rin.
She hesitates for a moment, stepping quietly to my side as we follow the wolf’s lead.
?
It doesn’t take long to find Cardin and his team—not that they’re making it difficult. Their voices carry through the forest like a beacon, punctuated by laughter and the occasional curse.
The first glimpse we catch of them is just as ridiculous as one could expect: two of Cardin’s lackeys holding their green-haired teammate, Russel, just outside the mouth of a dark cave. Cardin looms above, grinning wickedly as he tips a jar of sap over Russel’s head. The sticky liquid drips down his hair and shoulders in thick, gooey strands.
“Don’t be a pussy, Russel,” Cardin sneers. “You’re the fastest out of all of us. Just step into the cave, wake up the Ursa, and lead it somewhere near everyone else. It’ll get distracted before it eats your ass.”
“Distracted?! By what, Cardin? What?!”
“The other idiots, idiot! See? That’s why I’m the leader, I’m the one who brains,” Cardin says with a shrug. “Or maybe it’ll just run off into the woods. Who cares? Quit whining and do it!”
“Yeah, that might just be the worst idea I’ve ever heard…” I whisper quietly, kneeling behind the bushes. “Any ideas on how to stop them?”
“I’ve got one!” Artemis happily sings, directing my gaze towards a giant comb, which hangs heavy above our heads not too far away. “Let’s see how he likes being covered in goo.”
That… Might actually be what he deserves.
“Rin,” I say softly, pointing at the comb, then toward Cardin and his gang.
Her eyes widen in alarm as she looks from the nest to me. Are you serious? her expression seems to ask, but after a moment’s hesitation, she nods, trusting me—or perhaps just bowing to peer pressure. With careful, deliberate movements, Rin scales the tree. To my relief, once she activated her Semblance the wasps seem oblivious to her presence as anyone else.
A single sharp slice severs the branch, sending the comb plummeting toward Cardin and his team. Rin ducks back down beside me as we both brace for what’s about to come.
The moment it lands, chaos is born.
Screams fill the air as the wasps swarm the group, their angry buzzing drowning out any coherent words. Cardin’s gang scatters in all directions as the insects sting and chase them with relentless fury.
I can’t help but laugh. The sight of Cardin running in blind panic is satisfying beyond words—until he closes his eyes, screams louder, and pushes straight into the dark cave.
“Well, all’s well if it ends well,” Artemis says cheerfully. “What’s for dinner? Maybe we should grab some herbs while we’re here.”
Artemis!
“What? We left no proof! Nobody can tell!”
I can’t just tell my teammates to kill people!
“Oh…” She pauses, thoughtful for once. “Yeah, I guess this one would cry.”
Watching the rest of Cardin’s team scatter like ants, I realize the situation has escalated faster than I anticipated. Gritting my teeth, I race into the cave after him, following the sound of his frantic screams. Inside, the air turns cold and damp, the daylight from the entrance rapidly fading. Just ahead, I spot him on the ground, clutching his arm. His whimpers are drowned out by the growls reverberating from the darkness.
Two Ursas emerge from the shadows, their glowing red eyes locked onto the intruder who has foolishly disturbed their den.
“Move!” I shout, but he’s frozen in terror.
The larger Ursa roars, rearing up on its hind legs, claws poised to strike. I don’t hesitate. I raise my shield and slam it between the Grimm and its target, deflecting the blow just in time. Before I can do anything else, Cardin is yanked backward by an invisible force, his cries fading into the distance.
The Ursas, now focused solely on me, growl and close in, their confusion giving way to fury. I tighten my grip on my shield and draw my blade, my eyes locked on the Grimm. Killing an Ursa isn’t exactly rocket science—the neck and belly are vulnerable spots, easy enough to stab if you can get close. The problem? I’ve only got one sword, and leaving it lodged in one Grimm leaves me defenseless against the other.
Keeping that in mind, I step back as slowly as I dare, my eyes darting between the two monsters. Maybe—just maybe—help will arrive before this turns into a mess I can’t walk away from.
“Why don’t we turn this into a fair fight?” Artemis’s voice purrs in my ear, excitement lacing her tone. “Remember our last hunt?”
She isn’t wrong. I could summon a spirit to even the odds. But the one she’s suggesting… it’s risky. It’s a summon I’ve never used before, and in the worst-case scenario, I might just end up facing three bears instead of two.
I hesitate, my heart pounding as the Ursas lower their heads, preparing to charge.
“Do it,” Artemis insists, her voice carrying a thrill of anticipation.
I take a breath. Trusting the goddess, I kneel and press my hand to the forest floor, reaching out with my mind to call forth the spirit.
The response is immediate.
A storm of leaves whirls around me, fierce and untamed. From the swirling chaos emerges a massive green bear, its form shimmering like moonlight on water. This is no ordinary creature but a manifestation of Artemis’s domain—a predator, an equal, born of my will and her divine essence.
For a moment, I consider jumping into the fray, using the summoned spirit as cover to sneak in a few stabs. That thought evaporates as soon as I see the chaos before me—three bears colliding in a brutal storm of claws and teeth, rolling violently across the cave floor in a tangle of fur and rage. It’s raw, visceral, and terrifying. At that moment, it hits me just how out of my depth I am.
I take a step back, then another, until my instincts take over, and I run away.
As I retreat, the sound of the fight grows fainter, but another noise rises to replace it. Something massive and ancient stirs deeper within the cave, its low rumble reverberating through the stone like a warning.
Not my problem. Not anymore.
Once I’m a safe distance away, I kneel and dispel the spirit. With the immediate danger gone, I start making my way back, my thoughts still racing.
Rin must’ve carried Cardin out, I reason, though I wouldn’t put it past him to stumble into yet another deathtrap of his own making. Either way, I’m done. The quiet rustle of the Forever Fall surrounds me as I follow the still unfamiliar path back, my nerves still roaring with the aftermath of it all. Artemis, however, remains unbothered.
“Should… Should I mention you’re still half-covered in sap? No? You do remember that, right?”
The ground trembles behind me, and Artemis’s warning suddenly makes perfect sense. The vibrations grow heavier, more urgent, until I leap for the nearest tree, climbing as quickly as I can. From my perch, I watch as the Grimm thunder past below. There are the two Ursas from before, but leading the pack is something far more menacing.. Its grotesque form is riddled with broken blades and jagged bone protrusions, black ichor dripping from its open wounds and staining the forest floor. It’s a walking nightmare.
I can’t let this pack blindside the others.
Tightening my grip on my sword, I leap from the tree, aiming for the Ursa on the rear end. The blade of Crocea Mors cuts cleanly through its neck, the creature vanishing into shadowy wisps. But the Alpha’s still there.
As the monster turns back, its charge is relentless, breaking through my guard with a bone-rattling force. The impact sends me rolling into the floor, the Grimm’s massive frame stomping over me. My shield barely holds against its crushing weight, and I roll away just in time to avoid its snapping jaws. Crocea Mors won’t be enough for this monstrosity. I don’t even bother holding the blade, instead keeping my shield braced against my chest as it looms over me, reeking of rot and death.
A thunderous gunshot cracks through the forest, cutting through the tension. The second Ursa collapses mid-charge, its head snapping to the side as a spear digs into it.
“Jaune!”
Pyrrha’s voice rings out just as the Alpha Ursa slams its massive arms into me. Sparks fly from my shield as each blow lands like a battering ram, leaving me pinned and defenseless. The relentless assault stops only when Nora launches herself into the fray, her hammer crashing into the beast with a force that sends it staggering.
“Damn, that thing’s naaaaasty!” she calls out, already gearing up for another swing.
The Alpha recovers quicker than expected, shaking off Nora’s blow and rejoining the fight. Gritting my teeth, I force myself back to my feet.
“Pyrrha!”
I throw my shield toward her. Pyrrha’s response is as fluid as ever. She spins mid-air, her semblance snapping the shield back toward us with twice the force, the impact smashing into the Grimm’s side. Before the beast can react, Pyrrha throws her own shield, redoubling the assault and driving it into a stumble.
I spot her spear lodged in the fading remains of the smaller Ursa, recover it and throw it toward Nora. She catches on immediately, swinging her hammer in a wide arc. The spear connects with the Alpha’s skull mid-flight, and her hammer drives it home, pinning the creature’s head to the forest floor with a sickening crunch.
The massive Grimm lets out one final, shuddering groan before dissolving into wisps of shadow.
“Awww…” Nora pouts. “It’s already broken!”
I manage a weak laugh, wiping the sweat from my brow. “I think it broke some ribs.”
?
The night is quiet, the kind of stillness that wraps around you like a blanket. The silvery moonlight washes over everything. I sit on the roof of the dorm, legs dangling off the edge, the cool night air brushing against my skin. The soothing glow above feels almost like a balm, easing the aches and bruises left behind by the day. I’m about ready to say goodnight to Artemis when the sound of footsteps breaks the silence.
Pyrrha steps out onto the roof, her presence as warm and steady as ever, though her voice wavers when she speaks.
“I’ve…” She hesitates, hugging herself as if the cold has stolen her words. “Jaune, I think I owe you an apology.”
“An apology?” I glance at her with a weak smile, confused but curious. “I wasn’t sure I’d survive today. I’ll take a few broken bones.”
“No, it’s not that.” She shakes her head, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I wasn’t talking about the forest.”
“Oh.”
She takes a deep breath, her hands clutching her arms tightly. “I talked to Rin. She… explained things. But that’s not right either. She shouldn’t have to explain her actions to me. I just…” Her words trail off, and she steps closer, sitting down beside me. “I wanted to spend time with you.”
“Why?” I chuckle, leaning back slightly. “I mean… I don’t get it. Why do you care about me?”
Her brow furrows, caught off guard by the question. She pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. “Do you… know who I am?”
“Yes?” I answer slowly, unsure of where this is going. “I hope so?”
She lets out a small laugh, shaking her head as she looks up at the moon. “I’m a champion in Mistral. Four times champion, in fact.”
“That… sounds like a lot.”
“It is.” Her smile is faint, bittersweet. “And you’d think that means people respect me, that they see me as a leader. But they don’t. They see me as their safety net, their insurance, a shield to be raised against the enemy. No one treats me like an equal, like a real teammate. More often than not, it’s just… me against the world.”
I frown, leaning forward. “I mean… wouldn’t it make sense? What if I make the wrong call?”
“Then we struggle as a team!” she snaps, her voice breaking free of its usual composure. “Do you know how frustrating it is to always stand at the front? To know no one has your back because they’re all too busy hiding behind you?!”
I sit there, stunned.
“What happened today,” she continues, “you didn’t expect me to come in and fix everything. You didn’t treat me like some savior. Half the time, you act like I’m not even there.” She laughs, though there’s a hint of frustration in it. “And I like that. I need that.”
The weight of her words settles in, and I find myself at a loss for what to say.
“Pyrrha…” I shift, glancing at her, and see the vulnerability in her eyes.
“You make me feel… normal,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like I can just be part of something, instead of carrying it all.”
I swallow hard, taken aback by her honesty. “You’re not alone, Pyrrha. None of us is, not anymore. That’s…”
“The same thing she needed to hear?” She smiles, pushing herself back up. “Maybe… Some other time… I’ll try appearing on your bed too, if I ever need a reminder.”
“I… Was thinking about that. Maybe we could mix things up a little, change rooms every week, make it random? It’s… Better than just choosing forever.”
She just rolls her eyes playfully and walks away. “Mayble next week we’ll draw sticks. I believe you are a little… booked for the night.”
?
I pick one of the two rooms at random, dropping my things onto the first bed I see. Exhaustion weighs heavy on me, and I barely have the energy to kick off my boots before collapsing onto the mattress. By the time the door creaks open, the sound faint, I’m already half-asleep. When no one steps inside, I almost assume I imagined it.
That idea vanishes the moment I feel the mattress shift under her weight. She crawls in as quietly as she can, but it’s enough to jolt me back to full awareness.
“Rin?” I whisper, trying to mask my nervousness. “What… are you doing?”
“Shhh…” she hushes, pulling the blanket over us both. “Thank you. For today.”
“For… putting you in danger?” I murmur, still trying to piece together what’s happening.
She doesn’t respond, at least not with words. Instead, she takes one of my hands, her grip firm yet delicate, and guides it to her head. I feel the warmth of her hair, silken threads beneath my fingers, and she lets me comb through it at my own pace. Even in the dark, I can tell it’s long and untamed, flowing like a cascade of shadows.
And then I feel something.... Something… pointy, smooth, hard.
“Careful, please,” she whispers, a nervous edge in her voice.
I pause, confused. “Rin, are these…?”
Horns?
Tiny horns?
She doesn’t answer. Instead, I hear the faint cry of a zipper being undone. She takes my hand again, guiding it to her shoulder, then her back. The fabric parts beneath my fingers, revealing skin textured with small, cold, rigid protrusions. Scales. They vary in size and texture, some barely noticeable bumps, others hard, defined ridges. It’s startling at first, but not unpleasant. Her silence feels like permission, so I let my fingers trace the patterns, exploring cautiously. The curve of her spine is interrupted by those patches of solid armor, her body trembling and bending slightly as I move lower.
She exhales sharply beside my ear, a breath hot enough to send a shiver down my neck.
“Sorry…” I whisper, pulling my hand back. “Too much?”
She shakes her head. “It’s just… Humans don’t… Isn’t it weird?”
“I could get used to it,” I answer softly. “But doesn’t it get… exhausting? Hiding them all the time? Even with your Semblance…”
Her arms tighten around me, and for a moment, she holds me like a lifeline. Then, with a deep breath, the shimmer of her Semblance fades, and she becomes fully visible.
I see her clearly for the first time.
The soft green scales trace delicate patterns down her face, glinting in the faint light. They frame her eyes, small pools of jade that catch and hold the light like precious stones.
“Humans like them,” she murmurs. There’s a tremble in her tone, a quiet grief. “Pull them. Take them. Sell them. There aren’t many dragons left.”
Dragon Faunus. A mythical Faunus. The kind of being most people thought only existed in stories. And yet here she is, trembling in my bed, her vulnerability laid bare.
“You think you’ll ever be able to walk around… normally?” I ask carefully.
She rests her head against my shoulder, nodding faintly. “I used to think… maybe with the White Fang… But now…” Her voice trails off, and she clings to me tighter. “Maybe, if you’re there…”
Her words hang in the air, a quiet plea hidden in their fragility.
“I will be there,” I say, my voice firm. I pull her closer, resting my hand against her head, fingers brushing against her small, delicate horns. “I promised, didn’t I?”
“You promised…” she echoes. “Human… My human… Mine…”
The way she says it, raw and unfiltered, makes my heart skip a beat.
For a moment, the world feels impossibly still.
“Damn, and they call me possessive,” Artemis’s voice cuts through the moment like a sledgehammer, shattering the haze of intimacy. Her words hit with all the grace of a charging bull.
Not now! I scream inwardly.
“No, no, don’t mind me,” she says, mock innocence dripping from her tone. “Keep going! Aphrodite will love hearing about this later. She’ll kill me if I don’t give her all the juicy details.”
Go. Away.
“Fiiiiiine. But remember to pull out, champ. We wouldn’t want dragon eggs on the breakfast menu.”
Her laughter fades like a lingering echo, and I bury my face into the pillow, torn between frustration and sheer disbelief. Rin, oblivious to the divine commentary, leans her head against my chest, her presence grounding me once again as she pressed her soft lips on my shoulder, and I ask myself if I will ever be able to go back to sleeping alone.