1,576"When you have something to say, silence is a lie."
-Jordan Peterson
Eight bodies, freshly showered and clad in their chosen sleepwear, were crammed into Ruby's room. The room was dead silent, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy that usually filled any space occupied by teams RWBY and JNPR. The guest room was designed for single occupancy, and even though it was larger than any of them were accustomed to, eight people was a squeeze.
Ruby finally broke the silence. "So... what first?" she asked, her voice squeaky. She cleared her throat, her face flushing.
Weiss was the next to speak, her voice soft. "Putting aside that gods are apparently real for a moment, since that opens up another can of worms," she said, her gaze sweeping across the room, "where do we want to train? Do we want to keep going to Beacon, or stay here?"
"I think the whole 'gods are real' thing is actually pretty relevant to where we train," Blake pointed out, her golden eyes lidded — though whether she was bored or tired was anyone's guess.
Weiss conceded the point. "Okay then, first of all, to get everything out in the open, who knew about Perseus apparently being a… half god before today?" she choked out.
Pyrrha and Yang both raised their hands, Pyrrha looking almost embarrassed of the fact. Soon, nearly everyone was staring at Yang.
"What?" she asked, smirking.
"Pyrrha we all expected." Weiss' eyes narrowed. "But you knew?"
Yang's smirk faded, her teasing lilt fading. "Pyrrha and I were both there for the end of the battle of Mistral. The news got some of it, but we saw up close. I saw a hurricane the size of Mistral disappear in moments, and watched as wounds large enough to kill healed themselves in seconds. Naturally, I had some questions…"
Ruby blinked loudly. "And he just… told you?"
Yang shrugged. "Yeah, kinda. Told me all about his backstory and stuff. Where he came from. What he's done. It's… weird. Unbelievably weird. But also so unbelievably weird you kind of have to believe it, y'know?" she scratched her head.
"No." Weiss crossed her arms.
"Then why didn't you say anything?" Blake ignored the former heiress, eyes narrowed to slits. "Gods and immortals existing is kind of a big thing to leave us in the dark about."
"Honestly, I don't think I believed it until recently," Yang admitted. "I mean, you've been told now. Can you honestly say you believe it completely?"
Silence answered her.
"Why do you believe it?" Weiss drilled. "What changed?"
Yang rubbed her arm. "I think part of it is that, looking for it, I keep seeing things that only make sense if he does have some sort of supernatural powers. Like how he can control lightning, wind, and water — I know we assumed it was a semblance we just didn't understand, but…"
"That wouldn't explain how he could kill so many Grimm by himself during the siege of Vale," Weiss pointed out glumly.
"He is ridiculously strong," Blake shivered.
"And there was the Dragon," Pyrrha pointed out.
"And the new gulf of Vale," Jaune muttered.
"And how his sword can collapse into a pen," Ruby recalled.
"See?!" Yang waved her arms. "I don't know what half of that is about and at this point I'm too tired to ask, but after looking at it both ways it's almost more believable for him to be a dimension-hopping half-god than for a normal person to be able to do those sorts of things."
"Hold up, did you just say 'dimension-hopping?" Ruby leaned forward.
Yang froze, face bright red. "I- uh… Pyrrha! You explain!"
Pyrrha stared at her with wide eyes. "You think I know what you're talking about?"
The blood that had been rushing to Yang's face suddenly fled. "Er- he didn't tell you?"
"I…" Pyrrha paused, mouth agape. "I guess I never asked. He told me he wasn't originally from Remnant, but I figured that meant he was raised with the gods. I didn't ask him after, since I was distracted by, um… other things." she winced.
Ruby moved in a blur, basically teleporting on top of Yang, who went cross-eyed attempting to stare at the finger pointed an inch from her face.
"He's from another dimension and he told you all about it and all of the cool wizard battles he's had?!"
Hesitantly, Yang nodded.
"You owe us an explanation right now!"
"Ask him!" Yang raised her hands pleadingly. "I've only heard it once, and it was months ago — I barely remember most of it! I'm sure he'll tell you!"
"While I'm sure that will be… fascinating," Weiss leaned forward to pry Ruby off of her sister. "We still have to deal with the immediate question — do we want to be trained here, or at Beacon?"
Ruby stared at her partner, jaw hanging open. "We have a chance to learn from a time-travelling, dimension-hopping wizard with superpowers, and you think I might want to go back to school?!"
"Who said anything about time travelling?" Yang asked, brows furrowing.
"I did!"
Weiss shook her head, sighing shallowly. "Anyone else have any thoughts on continuing our education here?"
Blake lazily raised a hand. "I'd rather die."
Weiss rolled her eyes. "He did just save your life, you know. I don't think he hates you."
Blood faintly pooled in Blake's cheeks, and Yang elbowed her partner with a wide grin. Percy had saved her life? She wanted the details, but that was another point towards Percy in her books.
"I don't mind moving," Jaune filled the silence, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "And the rest of my team is from Mistral, so I can't imagine you guys mind coming back, do you?" He asked, glancing behind him.
The three shared a glance.
"We don't mind," Ren confirmed, jabbing a thumb at Nora, who nodded enthusiastically.
"Pyr?"
She flushed lightly as the attention of the room was drawn to her. "I'll miss Vale, and not being recognized as easily. But, well… I guess I've already made friends, so it's alright. No, I wouldn't mind."
Jaune nodded, and turned back to RWBY. "Looks like we're game, then. Plus, Percy's training has been really helpful…" Jaune admitted, scratching the back of his head.
"I goes where my friends goes," Yang announced, stretching. "Weiss-cream? How about you?"
"I suppose… I suppose if we wish to gain some of the benefits of a formal education, Haven will still be close by."
"Is that mopey for 'stay'?"
Weiss sighed. "Yes."
Ruby cheered, leaping up and hugging her partner, who tried in vain to escape. Yang nudged Blake again, who sat with her face buried in her palms. "Sorry Blakey, looks like you're outvoted."
A low, defeated groan was her only reply.
Yang laughed boisterously. "C'mon, it'll be fine~. You two just got off to a bad start, is all. I'm sure you'll get along as soon as you smooth it over. All you need is some alone time to bond."
The Faunus' head snapped up, narrowed golden eyes piercing her partner. "If you try something…"
Yang snickered. "You'll hiss at me?"
"I'll tell him about your crush on him!" The Faunus threatened quietly. "Maybe you're the one that wants some 'alone time'."
Yang's smile melted. "You swore not to tell."
"I won't." Blake was the one smiling now. "As long as you don't do anything stupid."
Yang grinned again, a mischievous glint in her lilac eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of doing anything stupid," she said, her voice dripping with false innocence. "But..." she leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "you know I can't be held responsible for a letter from an anonymous admirer finding its way onto his doorstep. Especially not from someone who's oh so grateful for being rescued by her dashing hero."
Blake's eyes widened, a horrified realization dawning on her face. "Yang, no! Don't you dare—"
"What're you two whispering about?" Nora interjected, slinging an arm around each of them. "Can I join?"
"Nothing!"
"No!"
The two jolted upright, a bit too loud for the crowded room. Ruby and Weiss paused their struggle, and Jaune, Ren, and Nora's conversation ground to a halt. Silently, Ren tugged Nora away.
"So it's official?" Pyrrha asked. "We'll be staying in Mistral with Percy?"
Weiss nodded awkwardly from the floor, stiff-arming Ruby away from her. "Until the Vytal festival, at least. Speaking of which, the tournament…"
"Isn't as important as helping defeat the Grimm," Ruby supplied, voice muffled by Weiss' hand.
Weiss nodded grudgingly. "Fair enough, I suppose. Well, that settles it. Mistral is our new home, for the time being."
The announcement was met by cheers from Ruby and Nora, and varied but mostly celebratory reactions from the others.
Ruby bounced to her feet, which Weiss seized advantage of to scramble away. "This is going to be great! We'll train, and get stronger, and learn all sorts of cool things, and—"
Yang, unable to resist, cut her off with a playful smirk. "And maybe," she said, her gaze sliding towards Blake, whose face had turned a delicate shade of pink, "some of us will even make a new friend."
"And maybe one of us will find more than a friend," her broody partner sniped back.
"Maybe more than one of us will." Yang smirked, leaning back to dodge the predictable swipe that followed. She dodged the follow-up as well, laughing joyfully as the room descended into splintered conversations and Ruby — for reasons unknown — descended violently upon Weiss once more. Taking inspiration from her sister, Yang turned the tables on her partner, lunging forward to tackle her, cackling as Blake tried in vain to pry her off.
She watched through Blake's thrashing hair as Nora tackled Ren, apparently agreeing with Yang and Ruby's decision to harass their partners.
Smiling widely, Yang relished the moment. Back at Beacon, she had thought she was going to lose Blake forever. After she woke up and found herself stranded in the middle of the desert, she worried she might never see her friends again.
Yang squeezed Blake tighter, a laugh bubbling up from her chest. The warmth of her friends around her, the playful chaos of their reunion—it was a feeling she'd taken for granted. Never again, she vowed.
"-id not mean to deceive you, but had to make sure that I returned safely before revealing my true nature. Please also know that Oscar, the boy you interacted with throughout your journey, was not a lie — he is an innocent boy, my host, who has been caught up in all of this."
Percy scowled at the marionette's back, hiding his disgust poorly. Ozpin and Qrow faced the assembled group of eight students the next morning, Qrow explaining Ozpin's role in the war with Salem and immediately informing them that the immortal wizard had been traveling with them the whole time.
Percy was taking the opportunity to hear Ozpin's side of the story for the first time, and found himself disappointed. Disappointed and annoyed.
He didn't tell the whole story, and likely never would. Not why Salem and Ozpin hated each other, or why Salem was supposedly hell-bent on destroying humanity.
Percy himself had only received the answers to those questions from one side, but even if every word of Cinder's story had been a lie, it still raised a lot of questions about Ozpin's own role — questions that he conveniently left unanswered in his own explanation to RWBY and JNPR. Cinder might be lying, but Ozpin was definitely lying.
Percy tapped his foot on the carpet as he listened to Ozpin carefully dance around the questions they asked. It would be hard to catch if he hadn't been looking for it — very hard. But even ignoring the details left out, Cinder's version rang so much more of the truth.
He grit his teeth to keep himself from speaking when Blake — perceptive as always — asked why Salem was trying to destroy humanity, and Ozpin's only explanation was that she had been driven insane by immortality. Percy had spoken to Salem, and she had been remarkably coherent for an immortal driven to insanity — he would know, he had met many. He wasn't buying it, that wasn't her motivation. And Ozpin was lying about it.
It filled him with disgust, being on this side of the room, knowing the truth — or at least knowing when Ozma was lying — but biting his tongue. Being… complicit in this. Teenagers, kids, who in a single day had decided they were prepared to lay their lives on the line to fight for a cause they didn't even understand, being lied to point-blank.
Not that Percy even wanted them to fight for Salem — she was the one creating Grimm, after all, and they had caused untold suffering. Fighting for the Grimm was hardly the solution. But lying to them so they wouldn't question Ozpin? That Percy couldn't stomach.
He silently studied Qrow. Did he know? Surely he couldn't have accepted the 'Salem is crazy' answer his entire life.
Except, why wouldn't he? It's not like he'd ever spoken to Salem. He had no reason to believe Ozpin was lying. For all Ozpin knew, Percy was in the same boat.
Percy quietly excused himself, making his way through their group and out the door, ignoring the curious looks shot at the side of his head.
He didn't know where he was going, he just stormed through corridors until he made it to an exit and the cool mountaintop air hit him. He took a deep breath, and scanned the horizon. There was only one place he could go to clear his head.
He broke out into a sprint, startling a nearby group of bureaucrats as he ran to the far ledge and leaped from the peak of the mountain, air whistling by his ears as he soared.
He manipulated water vapor in the air to help him glide, avoiding the mountain all the way down until he plunged into cool, dark waters.
The ocean embraced him. Cool, silent, and vast. His senses sharpened, expanding beyond the confines of his skin. He could taste the salt, feel the currents swirling around him, hear the whispers of creatures in the depths. It felt like he was finally home. As if the part of him that was human had returned to the part of him that was sea.
He hated the idea of going along with Ozpin's lies. He hated the idea of letting them be manipulated when he could do something about it.
It was putting them in danger, not telling them the full story. All of them, people he cared about — even Blake, loathe as he was to admit it to himself. Ozpin was risking their lives by not telling them what else was out there.
But, Percy had to admit to himself, that wasn't the real reason he was so upset. The odds of them encountering a maiden or relic were slim to none, much less without him there. But then again, Yang had encountered both Raven and Samara, both maidens, in the span of a day.
Regardless, he'd be keeping a close eye on them — it wasn't likely, or at least he wasn't worried about it. The real reason he hated the manipulation so much is that it reminded him of when he had been lied to as a kid. How many half-bloods had died in the name of lies? Whether by Kronos or the gods, they had all been manipulated. Percy himself had happily risked his life to save the god's asses year after year before he knew he was destined to die at sixteen anyway. Similarly to the situation RWBY and JNPR were in, learning the truth hadn't meant it was a good idea to help Kronos, but it also didn't mean he was okay with being lied to.
What Ozpin- what he was allowing to happen was far too similar to what the gods had done to him — what people he had trusted had allowed to happen to him.
The oceans screamed, filling him with rage — or perhaps echoing the rage already within him. Water violently swirled around him, sea creatures scattering away lest they be caught in the underwater storm. It agonized him to lie to the people he actually cared about, and these were people he cared about — not as political tokens or part of an alliance, but people who he wanted to be happy and safe. This was different from just keeping silent, different from not saying anything at all. He was standing by as they were being lied to, as they were conscripted into a war they had nothing to do with based on a lie, because he was not allowed to do anything else.
The sea filled him with defiance, with will. Oum may be the creator of this world, but he was not Omnipotent. He felt it with a certainty, as the power of the seas churned within him. That connection, that power came from him, not from Oum. He was the sea, and the sea was him.
And the sea would not be restrained.
Each step down the narrow hallway felt like walking towards a guillotine. Blake's stomach churned with a nervous energy that had nothing to do with the bland gray walls and everything to do with the man waiting at the end of them. Perseus.The name sent a shiver down her spine, even after all this time.
She knew Yang was to blame for this, somehow.
The renowned ruler of Mistral had 'asked' that she come by, and so here she was. She didn't dare defy him. She didn't think he'd kill her after going through all the trouble he had to save her life, but her expectations for how their meeting would go were pretty low all the same. They hadn't really spoken since she had pulled her team into the incident that set off the siege of Vale, so she was honestly somewhat surprised he hadn't left her to die with the rest of the White Fang.
She only had to make her way through one pair of soldiers before she reached her destination, a short hallway leading to a single room. She only hesitated for a moment once she reached it, knowing he could be watching and not wanting to look stupid, she rapped shortly on the door.
Seconds ticked by in silence.
Desperately hoping he wasn't there but knowing she couldn't get away with walking away now, she knocked once more.
Another second or two passed before she heard the sound of the door unlocking, and her throat fell into her stomach.
"-ut there's only so much I can do — Mistral isn't exactly known for its mineral resources, that would be you." Perseus swung the door open, barely glancing at her before waving her inside. He held a scroll to his ear, and was obviously in the middle of a conversation. The soft smell of a sea breeze greeted Blake as she entered, taking her back to long days spent on the beach when she was a child in Menagerie. Despite herself, she found herself feeling homesick.
Perseus shut the door before continuing his conversation, leaning on a nearby counter as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line.
Blake took the time to size up the room, and had to admit she was thoroughly surprised. It looked like something a middle class Valean might stay in. It was small — she could see a kitchenette where Perseus was taking his call, a small dinner table, a couch, coffee table, and a small bathroom. Other than that, there was a tiny balcony and a single door which she assumed led to a bedroom of some kind. For the most powerful man in the world, it was downright modest.
"Yes, I understand, but the thing about having access to steel from all over Remnant is that the rest of Remnant needs steel too."he paused for a moment to gesture at the couch, and Blake accepted the invitation to sit, more to avoid being awkward than anything else.
She quickly got bored of looking around — there was virtually no decoration of any kind — and occupied herself by trying not to look like she was listening in on his conversation — even though she was doing just that.
He ended the call what must have been a few minutes later, heavily leaning on the kitchen counter and letting out a sigh which Blake placed somewhere in between exhausted and exasperated. He stood like that for several seconds before suddenly straightening.
"Sorry about that," he greeted, only a trace of a weary undertone showing itself. "There's always something."
Blake just nodded, not knowing what to say, and then winced at herself a moment later.
"Can I get you anything?" he offered, "Tea, coffee?"
Even though the idea of tea did sound quite nice right now, Blake shook her head. And then, forcing herself to speak, offered a quiet "No."
He shrugged, grabbing a glass of water off the counter and walking to the couch. "Let me know if you change your mind," he said, sitting down on the couch opposite hers and setting down his glass.
It was… odd, seeing him act so… normal. Even discounting the recent revelation that he wasn't actually human — which Blake still hadn't decided if she believed, but that was beside the point — Perseus was not the kind of person she had ever imagined doing something so mundane as drinking a glass of water. It was a strange realization. She'd built him up in her mind as something inhuman, forgetting that even the most powerful and ruthless person on Remnant did mundane things like drink water.
"So," he began, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "I haven't even told you why you're here, have I?"
Blake shook her head.
"Well, long story short I want your help planning out the training for your teams."
Blake blinked.
"My help?"
He nodded once more, graciously ignoring her confused — and involuntary — whimper.
"Your experience would help," he affirmed. "Specifically, what your teammates should know. Which lessons you had to learn the hard way in the field. My goal is to teach them those lessons before they could lose their lives to it."
Blake swallowed around a dry throat, suddenly wishing she had taken him up on that tea.
"I- um… are you sure you need me? Why would you need my experience?"
Perseus smiled reassuringly, and Blake was shocked to note that the smile was sincere.
"No group on Remnant had seen as much conflict as the White Fang. From the war with the SDC and Atlas, to the Vacuan civil war, and culminating in the attack on Vale," Blake winced, "they were veterans of nearly every major battle in recent history. You were a part of the White Fang in a leadership role from the very beginning, and one of its most active members on top of that."
Blake had to give him the last point, if nothing else. She tagged along with Adam everywhere he went, and Adam saw the most combat out of anyone in the White Fang by far. The regular soldiers got rotations, where they would only be deployed in a raid once every few weeks. Adam, as leader, went on every raid that happened under his command, and she was there by his side for every one of them.
"You have essentially been an active participant in everyconflict Remnant has seen in generations," he continued. "The vast majority of Atlas' men and nearly all of their most experienced soldiers died in the battle of Mistral. Same for the White Fang — virtually everyone with even half as much experience as you died in the battle of Vale. You, on the other hand, left before that happened. Blake, you are very likely the most combat experienced person on all of Remnant — maybe including me. I didn't ask you to help because I wanted the most experienced person on your team. I asked you to help because I wanted the most combat experienced person in the world and it ended up being you."
Blake didn't know how to respond, her mind frantically trying to find a hole in his argument because that couldn't be true. She could not be the person with the most combat experience in the world. She just couldn't be, there had to be someone else, a grizzled Atlas vet or Vacuan rebel. It didn't make sense — she was barely even an adult!
And surely there had to be White Fang survivors from Vale. The ones that had taken her captive, for example. Except they had all died when the ship-
"Ilia!" she exclaimed. "Ilia could help!" Her friend was alive, but… not in the best situation. She was being held in a cell in Haven's basement, awaiting a trial for participating in the attack on Vale which Blake had been assured would see her in jail for life or executed. More likely the latter — it was expensive to keep huntress prisoners, after all.
"The girl we pulled off the ship with you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Blake nodded. "She might not have been quite as active as I was, but she was also a lieutenant from the beginning and stayed in after I left, she has plenty of experience."
Blake was conflicted. Part of her wanted to try to save her childhood best friend, but even if she could help, the other part of her knew it wouldn't be right. Ilia's loyalty to Adam, even as he descended into terrorism, was difficult for Blake to justify. She understood the allure of Adam's charisma, but the attempted massacre in Vale was unforgivable. Yet, Ilia had saved Blake's life. If Blake didn't try to do the same now, what kind of friend — what kind of person — did that make her?
Regardless, it was a moot point, it's not as though she had the influence to arrange her pardon. She was not exactly on good enough terms with Perseus to be asking for favors.
"I don't trust her," he dismissed immediately, jolting Blake from her thoughts.
"You trust me?" she blurted. A tinge of red dusted her cheeks as she registered her outburst.
He was clearly amused, smirking aggravatingly. "I don't think you're a bad person, Blake." he reclined back onto the couch. "At the very least, I know I can trust you not to want to hurt your teammates."
"I would never!" she snapped on impulse. It took her a millisecond to realize what she'd done and pull back, the blood draining from her face.
Instead of snapping his fingers and dissolving her into a pile of ashes, he smiled endearingly. "See?"
Blake flushed, head growing dizzy from all of the blood flowing back and forth from her face.
"Relax," he urged. "I'm not going to snap at you. I do bite, but only when the people I care about are in danger. That's not right now."
Blake let out a deep breath, nodding once. Her nerves weren't doing her any favors.
The swordsman leaned forward and opened a drawer in the coffee table, pulling out a stack of papers as tall as the drawer, and then reaching over to another drawer and opening that one as well, pulling out a notebook that Blake could only assume was packed full.
"If you have any more questions feel free to ask. Otherwise, let's get started."
Not knowing what mix of dread and excitement to feel, Blake felt both at once, in full force, and swallowed.
She was the expert here, she told herself. He was the one who wanted her help. She had nothing to worry about.
If only she could convince herself that was true.
Gillian yawned, half-lidded eyes scanning through another opinion article on central bank interest rates. It was dreary work, but that was the thing about a monarchy — she had to force herself to care about things she really didn't care about.
Jax echoed her yawn on the throne beside her, similarly reading through an article about trade. Gillian had read it earlier — it was the same old commentary about Vacuo's challenges trading with the other kingdoms due to the mountains and desert between them and their neighbors. Not to mention the fact that they were the only city not on the coast — besides Atlas, but that didn't count — meant they had an especially hard time importing and exporting. That was a big problem considering they lived in a desert, meaning their only hope of a successful economy was specializing in industry or services — which they couldn't do if they couldn't import food. They couldn't import from their settlements, either, since they were on the other side of the Great Vacuan Desert — vast and full of loose sand and hills, there was little hope in building anything across it, be it road or rail.
Giving up, Gillian shut her own article. "Okay, let's do this again."
Throwing his head back, Jax groaned, the sound echoing between the grand marble walls of the nearly-empty throne room.
Gillian agreed with the sentiment, sighing drearily and resting her cheek on her palm. "We can't trade overseas, we can't trade inland. We can't grow food efficiently, we can't import food efficiently. We have next to no natural resources — the valuable ones all having been prospected and sucked up decades ago — and our population is the smallest of any kingdom."
"Other than Atlas," Carmine pointed out, their oldest servant and faithful bodyguard looking as bored as they were from where she leaned against a marble column several feet away.
Jax rolled his eyes. "After they were separated from Mantle, perhaps."
"We have no capital or investors," Gillian continued, ignoring the interruption.
"Though we have offers from Mistral for easy access to investors and cheap loans," her brother pointed out.
"Which will only come in handy if there's anything to invest in." Gillian stressed. "And to top it all off, we're behind technologically and have an uneducated populace."
"The latter will be fixed with time, once our investments in education start to show results… in a decade." Jax noted, his voice flat with the boredom of a man who had repeated the same line a hundred times this month.
Despite all of their challenges, Gillian genuinely believed that Vacuo would persevere. It was stable after the end of the civil war, for one, the most trouble they'd run into being some White Fang bandits. No big riots, racial conflicts, or coups like in Vale, Mantle, and Menagerie. No major Grimm attacks, either. Even Mistral was busy expending resources putting out fires in Menagerie and building a military large enough to keep its new empire, while all Vacuo had to do was focus on itself.
"Um, question?" Carmine raised a hand. Gillian looked up curiously. The huntress rarely actually spoke while she and Jax were brainstorming.
"Yes?" Gillian prompted.
"Perseus just created a gulf south of Vale, why don't you just ask him to give us one of those?"
Gillian shared a dubious look with her brother.
"That would be a large ask — there's no reason to think he would transform mother nature simply because we requested it," Jax dismissed.
"It wouldn't hurt to ask…" Gillian mused.
"Even if he did, it's salt water — it might help with trade, but it wouldn't solve any of our other issues, and trade only helps us if we have something to trade."
"It would create rainfall and a wetter climate, given time," Gillian pointed out. "It might take a few years for vegetation to return, but then we could always ask for fresh water."
Gillian waited as Jax thought it over, scratching his cheek idly.
"I… think it might actually be a good idea."
A wide smile spread across Gillian's face. "Fresh water, arable land, easily accessible waterways right next to the capital — we can start with agriculture."
"Which would allow industrialization, and with it modernization," Jax picked up, a matching smile growing on his own face.
"You might as well ask for a moat while you're at it," Carmine quipped, a small, satisfied smile betraying how pleased she was with herself. "You know, so you never have to worry about Grimm again."
"That might not be a bad idea either." Gillian granted, ideas flying through her head.
"Wait no."
"We should start writing this down," Jax ignored Carmine. "To propose to Percy."
"Wait, the moat thing was a joke. Please don't write that down," the huntress pleaded.
"We need to think about this very carefully," Gillian cautioned, shooting Carmine a quick teasing smirk. "If we go through with this, it could — it will — permanently reshape Vacuo's geography, and in turn its culture, and entire future. This isn't a small decision — in fact, it's easily the biggest impact we'll have on Vacuo's future, one that can't be undone. We need to consider this from every angle."
"Like what?" Jax asked. "What are the downsides of this?"
"We would be open to more threats, for one." Gillian pointed out. "From ocean Grimm and seafaring kingdoms."
Jax waved it off. "Fine, fine. We'll think about this every which way, but I think this is it! This is how we return Vacuo to its former glory. Carmine, assemble the council for an emergency session!"
"Thank you, Carmine!" Gillian beamed at their most trusted vassal. "We'll discuss a boon later."
Carmine smiled back, clearly grateful for the recognition. Nodding, she bowed to them both and spun on her heel to alert the various members of the royal council.
Gillian couldn't wipe the smile from her face, and quickly gave up trying.
She had believed Vacuo had a bright future before — now, it was looking all the brighter.
Blake inhaled deeply, letting out a sigh of relief as the aroma of the tea leaves loosened the knot that had begun forming behind her eyes. She took a long draw from the simple mug, letting the warm liquid slide down her throat. The tea was just barely cool enough to drink — perfect. She took an extra draw of the liquid, desperate to experience every drop of the nectar at its ideal temperature.
"I just don't get it."
Blake took a deep breath before she lowered the mug, revealing Percy — he had insisted, but the name still felt odd on her tongue — hunched over a sketch that Blake had drawn. He'd been coming up with various situations and asking how she would respond. Most were fairly basic, but some were rather niche.
"I don't get it." he shook his head. "You don't attack over the open field, which makes sense, but you attack from the low ground, and only from one direction — plus, you're assaulting in a tight formation."
"It's what we found worked best," Blake shrugged indifferently. "I'm not sure I understand your questions. Why wouldn't we do any of that?"
Percy shook his head idly, eyes glued to the sketch. "It's really hard to explain, to be honest. More of an intuition than a specific reason."
"An intuition?" Blake raised an eyebrow, lip curling faintly. "About how to assault an Atlesian outpost?"
Percy hummed affirmatively, as if that wasn't one of the most ridiculous things he could have said.
After a few more seconds of contemplation, he moved with a sudden energy. Reaching for a pen Blake could swear used to turn into a sword, he began jotting down notes on the page. He took his time, pausing several times to think before hastily jotting a note in the margins.
He turned the paper to face Blake.
"When you attack from below them, they have the high ground — it's easier to land projectiles, and retreat is cut off unless you have some sort of weird terrain to hide behind. Meanwhile they can fall into full cover by taking a step or two away from the edge of the hill. A problem that would be solved by flanking — not just attacking from their side, but attacking from multiple sides at once. If you attack from two sides, it's much harder for them to find cover that will actually protect them. Most of the time they'll be forced to leave themselves vulnerable." he traced along two arrows he'd drawn, one from the left and the other from the top. Based on the hasty diagram of the base he'd laid out, she tried to imagine herself as one of the defenders. Almost immediately she could see what he meant — it would be impossible for most people to maneuver so they weren't exposed to someone, much less fall back if they were injured or just needed to reload.
"And then the last thing — the spacing between you. When you all cluster up, it makes you an easy target for explosives. Just one and the battle's practically over. Even not accounting for grenades, clustered groups make a lot easier targets. If you miss the person you're shooting at you're almost guaranteed to hit someone by accident. Flanking would also help with that, by spreading your forces out."
Brows furrowed, Blake silently admitted to herself that he… was making sense. At least, about most of it. She would have to think about it more to be sure. "You knew that from intuition? Where have you been the last five years?"
"Busy," he rolled his eyes, but wore an easy smile. "And… I mean kinda, yeah. I guess I kind of take it for granted how common war was where I came from. Growing up, I watched movies and TV shows about war, played with toys in pretend battles, even fighting out pretend battles with other kids."
Blake winced. "Is the divine world really so violent?"
"Huh?" Percy asked, tilting his head. "Oh! No, I'm not from a divine world or anything. Or… it's complicated. There are mortals where I'm from too. Just like you— er… without the cat ears, that is. That's how I'm only a demigod. My mom was a regular mortal."
Blake resisted the urge to reach up and touch her ears self-consciously. There were Humans where he was from, but no Faunus?
"But anyway, that's besides the point. Mortals fought each other all the time, to the point it was kind of drilled into our culture. Kind of like how a kid might play pretend as a huntsman, but just… against other humans."
"That's… glib." she muttered.
Percy shrugged. "It was normal for us. You'd be surprised how often people start fighting when there aren't Grimm to keep us focused."
"There are no Grimm?!" she perked up, immediately at once intrigued and jealous.
"No…" he hesitated. "Or, well, it's complicated. I'll tell you all about it when we're done, promise. But for now, we should keep going."
Blake sighed, but conceded. She would hold him to that…
She opened her mouth to ask another question, but struggled to find the words.
Percy stopped searching through papers and waited for her to speak.
"It's just… you seem to want to train us like soldiers, not huntresses. I understand training us to fight people in small groups, but it's not like we'll be in a war."
"First of all," He sat down the papers, stacking them in a haphazard pile. "You are going to be soldiers. Whether you've seen this kind of war before or not, it'll always end up the same. Heroes become soldiers the moment they start taking orders, and then they're thrown into situations they're not ready for. Don't let me or anyone else tell you otherwise."
Blake pursed her lips. From the vitriol in his tone, it sounded like he had some personal experience with that.
"But putting that to one side," he continued, leaning forward to meet her eye-to-eye. "Why is it you're so confident that you won't be fighting an 'actual' war?" he asked, miming air quotes.
"Because there isn't an organized fighting force left that you don't control."
"That was also true of the White Fang." he countered.
"That's different!" she protested.
"In what way?"
"You didn't control the White Fang directly," she reminded him. "You only controlled it through Adam — so he was able to use it against you."
"How do you know the White Fang is the only force I control indirectly?" he quizzed. "Do you know it for a fact?"
Blake's silence was an answer.
"Winter is an easy example. Sure she isn't the 'only' way I influence Atlas or their military. I've got backup plans for backup plans — but that's mostly for keeping control of it if Winter drops off the face of the earth. She's a competent woman in her own right, if she wanted to rally Atlas to attack me there's not a damn thing I could do about it. It wouldn't go well for her, of course, but then it didn't go well for Adam either, and that didn't stop him."
"Aren't you friends with Winter, though?" she asked, somewhat cowed. "You and Adam never actually liked each other."
"True," he granted. "But Winter's one example. What happens if Junior dies and Vale's underworld is run by someone who likes me a little less? What happens if I get lax and my grip loosens over time? On Junior, or Atlas, or Vacuo, or even Mistral itself? Maybe you won't need to know how to fight a war now, but what about in a few years? What about a decade from now? What happens if you end up needing to fight me?"
Blake stared at him, her mind reeling. "But… why would you train us to fight you?"
Percy's expression softened. "Well, firstly, I don't actually intend for that to happen. Second, when I'm teaching my personal goals don't even begin to enter the equation. I want to make you as prepared as you can be — to set you up as best I can for the curveballs life is bound to throw. People die, things change. Never assume you know what the future will look like."
Blake didn't know how to answer that, and so the two sat in silence. Blake couldn't quite tell if it was a comfortable or awkward one.
Mournfully, she picked up her tea. Stone cold.
"Cold?"
Blake nodded morosely.
With an indulgent smile, he flicked two fingers. Blake almost jumped as the tea began swirling around in the mug, and Blake's eyes widened as steam quickly began to rise from the liquid. Raising it to her lips, she felt the tension from their conversation melt away. Draining the rest of the mug, she lowered it with a contented smile. Perfect.
Percy laughed, but Blake couldn't find it in her to be annoyed. Saving her life was cool and all, but saving her tea? She might be able to tolerate living in Mistral.
"We can stop for today," he announced, rising. Blake took her cue and stood, accepting the tiny folded piece of paper he handed her. "I convinced Ozpin to leave today, so tonight training begins. Bring both teams, and meet me there at eight tonight. Don't tell anyone else — and I mean anyone."
Blake nodded firmly, curiously unfolding the slip to find an address scrawled in tiny letters.
"Thanks for all your help today Blake. Let's meet again next week."
The Faunus girl nodded again to show she understood, glancing longingly at her empty mug before she forced herself to part for the door.
"Do you want to take some tea with you? I have extra," he offered.
Blake shoved down every primal instinct in her telling her to purr. Instead, she forced a polite smile.
"Yes, please."
I hope you enjoyed! Please consider letting me know what you thought :)
Next Chapter February 15 (I am writing more than 1 a month but want to give myself some time to build a reserve again)