Chapter XVI: Search & Destroy; Awakening Changes?
Flashback of the previous night in the midst of confessions....
Just as everyone thought the interrogations were over, Yang's predatory grin returned as she spotted Blake trying to quietly slip toward the exit.
"Oh no you don't, kitty cat," Yang said with obvious delight. "We're not done here yet."
Blake froze mid-step, her amber eyes widening with the expression of someone who had just realized they'd walked into a trap. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Really?" Ruby said with growing excitement, bouncing slightly in her seat. "Because Sun mentioned seeing you and a certain Frost Dragon King having some very... intense conversations lately."
"Shoryu and I are childhood friends," Blake said carefully, though her voice carried a slight tremor that everyone immediately noticed. "There's nothing unusual about us talking."
"Childhood friends," Skye repeated with obvious disbelief, her Storm Balrog electricity crackling with anticipation. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"That's what it is," Blake insisted, though she was now fidgeting with her bow in a way that suggested extreme nervousness.
"Blake," Weiss said with the authority of someone who had just survived her own interrogation, "childhood friends don't look at each other the way you and Shoryu do."
"And how do we look at each other?" Blake asked, though her voice was getting progressively smaller.
"Like you're both remembering something that happened a long time ago," Yang observed with growing interest. "Something important."
Blake's face began to color as she clearly struggled with how much to reveal. "We... we have history. That's all."
"What kind of history?" Max asked, now fully recovered from his own embarrassment and eager to participate in someone else's interrogation.
Blake was quiet for a long moment, her mind clearly replaying memories she had kept carefully guarded...
She had been twelve, hiding in the ruins of an old temple after another argument with her parents about the White Fang's increasingly violent methods. The tears had been streaming down her face when she heard footsteps approaching through the debris.
"Blake?" The voice had been familiar, concerned, tinged with the same sadness that seemed to follow all the dragon faunus children in those days.
She had looked up to find Shoryu approaching cautiously, his ice-blue eyes reflecting worry and understanding in equal measure. Even at fourteen, he had possessed the kind of quiet strength that made others feel safe.
"You heard the argument," she had said, not really a question.
"Half the compound heard the argument," Shoryu had replied gently, settling beside her among the ancient stones. "Your father's voice carries when he's passionate about something."
"He wants me to stay. To fight with them. But I can't... I can't watch them become the thing we're supposed to be fighting against."
Shoryu had been quiet for a moment, his frost powers creating small, beautiful ice crystals in the air around them—a nervous habit he'd developed when processing difficult emotions.
"So don't," he had said finally.
"Don't what?"
"Don't become something you're not meant to be. Don't let their anger become your anger." He had turned to face her fully, his expression carrying a maturity beyond his years. "You have a choice, Blake. You always have a choice."
The way he had said her name, like it was something precious that needed protecting, had made her heart flutter in ways she hadn't understood at the time.
"What if making that choice means leaving everything behind?" she had whispered.
"Then I'll make sure you have something to come back to," Shoryu had replied without hesitation. "Always."
Before she could respond, before she could even process the depth of what he was offering, he had leaned forward and kissed her—gentle, tentative, but carrying all the promise and protection of someone who would wait however long it took...
"Blake?" Ruby's voice brought her back to the present, where she found everyone staring at her with various expressions of fascination and concern.
"You were completely lost in memory," Yang observed softly. "Good memory or painful memory?"
"Both," Blake admitted quietly, her hand moving unconsciously to touch her lips. "Shoryu was... he was my first love. Before everything went wrong with the White Fang, before I ran away, before I learned that the world was more complicated than I thought."
"And now?" Weiss asked gently.
"Now he's here, and he still looks at me like..." Blake trailed off, clearly struggling with the admission.
"Like what?" Skye prompted with surprising gentleness.
"Like he meant what he said all those years ago. About making sure I had something to come back to."
Before anyone could respond to Blake's revelation, Sun burst through the common room door with obvious distress written across his face.
"Has anyone seen Hon'oh?" he asked desperately. "She was supposed to meet me for study group an hour ago, but—"
"Oh, this is perfect timing," Yang interrupted with renewed delight. "Sun, we're having confession time. Blake just told us about her first love, and now we want to hear about your obvious infatuation with our Sea Dragon Empress."
Sun's face immediately turned red as he realized what he'd walked into. "I don't have an infatuation! Hon'oh and I are study partners!"
"Study partners," Koga repeated with obvious disbelief. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"We study together! We research together! We work on projects together!" Sun protested, though his voice was getting higher with each denial.
"And you stare at her with dopey expressions when she's not looking," Ruby added helpfully.
"And you bring her coffee every morning," Weiss contributed. "Specifically the way she likes it, which you somehow memorized."
"And," Yang said with obvious delight, "you turn into a complete disaster whenever she gets within three feet of you."
"I do not turn into a disaster!" Sun protested.
"Sun," Blake said with gentle amusement, grateful to have the attention shifted away from her own romantic situation, "last week you walked into a wall because Hon'oh smiled at you."
"It was a very... distracting smile," Sun muttered, his face progressing from red to crimson.
Just then, as if summoned by their conversation, Hon'oh appeared in the doorway with her arms full of research materials, clearly having just come from the library.
"Sun, there you are! I'm sorry I'm late, but I found the most fascinating research on—" She stopped mid-sentence as she took in the scene: Sun looking mortified, everyone else grinning with obvious delight, and the general atmosphere of interrogation.
"What's going on?" Hon'oh asked suspiciously.
"We're having confession time," Yang announced cheerfully. "Sun was just about to tell us about his feelings for you."
Hon'oh's expression went from confusion to surprise to something that might have been the beginning of a blush. "His... feelings?"
Sun looked around desperately, realized there was no escape, and seemed to deflate in defeat. "Fine. You want a confession? Here's a confession."
He turned to face Hon'oh directly, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by nervous sincerity.
"Hon'oh, I think you're brilliant. I think your dedication to research and knowledge is amazing. I think the way you light up when you discover something new is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." His voice was gaining strength as he continued. "I bring you coffee because I want an excuse to see you smile. I memorized how you like it because I pay attention to everything about you. And yes, I walked into that wall because when you smiled at me, I forgot how to function properly."
Hon'oh stared at him with wide eyes, her Sea Dragon Empress heritage causing subtle shifts in the humidity around her as she processed his words.
"You... you pay attention to everything about me?" she asked softly.
"Everything," Sun confirmed, his face now matching his hair in terms of redness. "The way you organize your research notes. The way you bite your lip when you're concentrating. The way you get excited about discovering new connections between seemingly unrelated topics."
As Sun continued his heartfelt confession, something remarkable happened—Hon'oh began to blush. Not just a normal blush, but a deep, spreading red that seemed to extend from her cheeks down her neck and probably beyond what was visible.
"Oh my gods," Ruby breathed, staring in fascination. "I didn't know Hon'oh could turn that red."
"I didn't know anyone could turn that red," Yang added with obvious delight.
Hon'oh seemed to realize that everyone was staring at her increasingly dramatic blush, which only made it worse. Steam began to rise from her skin as her Sea Dragon heritage reacted to her intense embarrassment.
"I... that is... Sun..." Hon'oh stammered, clearly struggling to form coherent sentences while her face continued to darken to shades of red that seemed physically impossible.
"She's actually steaming," Weiss observed with fascination. "Like, literally producing steam from embarrassment."
"This is the best evening ever," Skye declared with absolute joy. "We've discovered that Max melts when Yang kisses him, Weiss has been claimed by The Reaper, Blake had a tragic first love that might not be so tragic anymore, and now we've found Hon'oh's critical embarrassment threshold!"
Hon'oh made a small squeaking sound and buried her face in her research materials, though the steam continued to rise around her.
"Hon'oh?" Sun asked with genuine concern, moving toward her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," came Hon'oh's muffled response from behind her books, though the continued steam production suggested otherwise. "Just... processing... unexpected emotional data."
"Should we be worried that she's literally steaming?" Blake asked with concern.
"Sea Dragon Empress heritage," Koga explained with obvious amusement. "Strong emotions can cause physical manifestations with water vapor. She'll be fine once she regulates her embarrassment levels."
"My embarrassment levels are perfectly regulated!" Hon'oh protested from behind her research materials, though the increased steam production suggested otherwise.
As the evening wound down with continued gentle teasing, expressions of happiness for all the revealed couples, and concerned attempts to help Hon'oh achieve normal body temperature again, Skye felt a deep sense of contentment with her social circle. These were people who celebrated her growth, supported her through difficulty, teased each other with love, and valued her presence without asking her to perform or prove herself.
Present time...
Beacon Academy - Following Morning
The next morning brought with it the crisp energy of possibility that Skye had come to associate with genuine personal breakthroughs. She woke naturally, without the anxiety-driven early rising that had characterized her recent weeks, and found herself genuinely looking forward to whatever the day might bring.
Her scroll showed the usual array of messages, but this time she noticed something different in how she approached them. Instead of analyzing each communication for hidden meanings or social implications, she simply responded authentically—thanking Yang for the funny meme she'd sent, agreeing to meet Hon'oh for coffee (once she recovered from her steaming embarrassment), and accepting an invitation from her cousins for combat training.
This is what it feels like to trust your social instincts, she realized as she prepared for the day. No second-guessing, no strategic calculations—just responding from genuine feeling.
A knock at her door interrupted her morning routine, but this time she felt only curiosity rather than the familiar spike of social anxiety.
"Come in," she called, expecting one of her teammates.
To her surprise, it was Shoryu who entered—the Frost Dragon King whose conversation with Blake had been the subject of considerable speculation the previous evening. His ice-blue eyes held their characteristic calm intensity, but there was something else there too: a kind of purposeful determination that suggested this wasn't a casual visit.
"Shoryu," Skye said with genuine surprise. "This is unexpected. Is everything alright?"
"I hope so," he replied, his voice carrying the precise, measured tone that characterized his most serious communications. "I wanted to speak with you about last night's conversation. Specifically, about Blake."
Skye felt her eyebrows rise with interest. "What about Blake?"
Shoryu moved with characteristic precision to her desk chair, but didn't sit immediately. Instead, he seemed to be choosing his words with the same careful deliberation he applied to everything else.
"The things she shared about our past... they were accurate, but incomplete," he said finally. "I believe there are aspects of that history that might be relevant to your own recent experiences with authentic connection."
"How so?"
Shoryu was quiet for a moment, frost crystals beginning to form in the air around him—his telltale sign of processing complex emotions.
"Blake spoke of first love and promises made," he said carefully. "What she didn't mention was that she left without saying goodbye. Without explanation. Without giving me the chance to understand what had changed or how I might have failed her."
The pain in his voice was subtle but unmistakable, and Skye felt her heart go out to him. "That must have been devastating."
"It was... educational," Shoryu replied with the kind of understatement that spoke to deep emotional processing. "It taught me the difference between loving someone and understanding them. Between making promises and ensuring those promises are wanted."
"And now she's here," Skye observed gently.
"Now she's here, and I find myself facing the same question you've been grappling with: How do you approach connection authentically when past experience has taught you to be strategic?"
The parallel he was drawing hit Skye with immediate recognition. "You've been trying to figure out how to rebuild something that was broken without repeating the mistakes that broke it."
"Precisely," Shoryu confirmed. "Watching you navigate your situation with Tadashi and Kagura—particularly the way you chose authenticity over strategy—made me realize I've been approaching Blake's return entirely wrong."
"Wrong how?"
Shoryu's frost crystals grew more elaborate as he worked through his explanation. "I've been trying to prove I'm still the person who made those promises years ago. Trying to demonstrate that I kept faith with her memory, that I remained worthy of whatever feelings she might still have."
"But that's performing connection rather than creating it," Skye said with growing understanding.
"Exactly. I've been so focused on being the right choice that I forgot to simply be... myself. The person I am now, rather than the person I was then."
The insight resonated deeply with Skye's own recent journey. "So what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to take inspiration from your approach," Shoryu replied with a small smile. "I'm going to stop trying to recreate the past and start exploring what might be possible in the present."
"That sounds both simple and terrifying."
"The best adventures usually are," Shoryu said, echoing Skye's words from the previous evening.
As he prepared to leave, Shoryu paused at the door for one final observation.
"Skye, I want you to know that watching you handle disappointment with such grace, and then seeing you embrace authenticity despite the risk of further rejection... it gave me hope that genuine connection is possible, even after significant setbacks."
After Shoryu left, Skye found herself energized by the conversation in ways she hadn't expected. It was one thing to receive validation for her personal growth from friends and professors; it was another entirely to discover that her journey was inspiring others to approach their own relationship challenges with greater authenticity.
Beacon Academy - Combat Training Area - Mid-Morning
Skye's morning training session with her cousins proved to be exactly what she needed to solidify her new sense of self-confidence. Max, still glowing with the happiness of his relationship with Yang, was more relaxed and playful in his combat style than she'd seen him in months. Koga and Mist worked together with the kind of seamless coordination that came from years of mutual trust.
But what struck Skye most was how differently she approached the sparring matches. Instead of analyzing her opponents' strategies and trying to counter them systematically, she found herself responding instinctively, trusting her training and natural reflexes to guide her movements.
"You're fighting differently," Koga observed during a brief rest between rounds. "More... fluid. Less calculated."
"I'm trusting my instincts instead of overthinking every move," Skye replied, surprised by how naturally the explanation came. "Turns out the same principle applies to combat and social interaction."
"Authenticity in all things," Max added with understanding. "Let your true self drive the response rather than trying to manufacture the optimal outcome."
"Exactly," Skye confirmed, feeling the rightness of the insight settle into her bones.
Their training was interrupted by the arrival of Professor Ozpin, whose presence immediately commanded attention despite his casual demeanor.
"Miss Dragonblade," he said with characteristic calm, "might I have a word with you privately?"
Skye felt a brief flutter of concern—summons from the headmaster were rarely routine—but found that her new emotional stability kept anxiety from spiraling into panic.
"Of course, Professor," she replied, following him to a quieter area of the training grounds.
"I've been observing your development over the past several weeks," Ozpin began without preamble. "Particularly your response to recent social challenges and the subsequent growth in your interpersonal approach."
"Sir?"
"Leadership, Miss Dragonblade, is fundamentally about authentic connection," Ozpin continued, his voice carrying the weight of hard-earned wisdom. "The ability to inspire others to follow you not because you've calculated the optimal way to motivate them, but because they trust your genuine character and judgment."
Skye felt her pulse quicken as she began to understand where the conversation was heading.
"Your recent demonstration of grace under pressure, combined with your growing comfort with authentic self-expression, suggests you may be ready for increased responsibilities."
"What kind of responsibilities?"
Ozpin's slight smile suggested he was pleased with her direct question rather than attempting to guess at his intentions.
"The Vytal Festival will bring together students from all four academies," he explained. "There will be opportunities for cross-academy collaboration, cultural exchange, and the kind of relationship-building that forms the foundation of future cooperation between kingdoms."
"You want me to be involved in the diplomatic aspects?"
"I want you to be yourself," Ozpin corrected gently. "Your authentic self, interacting naturally with students from other backgrounds and traditions. Sometimes the most profound diplomacy happens not in formal negotiations, but in genuine connections between individuals who discover they share common ground despite surface differences."
The opportunity both excited and intimidated Skye. "And if my authentic self isn't impressive enough for international diplomacy?"
"Miss Dragonblade," Ozpin said with the kind of certainty that came from years of evaluating student potential, "your authentic self recently turned a potentially devastating social rejection into an opportunity for personal growth and deeper understanding of relationship dynamics. I suspect she's more than capable of handling whatever challenges the Festival might present."
Beacon Academy - Library - Afternoon
That afternoon found Skye in the library again, but this time her research had a different focus. Instead of studying relationship theory in abstract terms, she was exploring the cultural backgrounds and traditions of the other academies' students who would be arriving for the Festival.
Her motivation wasn't strategic—she wasn't trying to identify optimal approaches for making good impressions. Instead, she found herself genuinely curious about the different perspectives and experiences these students might bring. What were their values? What challenges had they faced? What could she learn from their approaches to connection and community?
"Research on Haven Academy traditions?" Blake asked, settling into the seat beside her with obvious curiosity. "That's a departure from emotional intelligence texts."
"Professor Ozpin asked me to be involved in some of the cultural exchange aspects of the Festival," Skye explained, looking up from a text on Mistralian social customs. "I want to understand the people I'll be meeting, not so I can impress them, but so I can connect with them authentically."
"That's a beautiful approach," Blake said with genuine admiration. "Most people either ignore cultural differences or try to exploit them strategically. Seeking to understand them for the sake of genuine connection is... refreshing."
They worked in comfortable quiet for a while, Blake focusing on her own studies while Skye absorbed information about different academy cultures. But eventually, Skye's curiosity about Blake's conversation with Shoryu overcame her focus on research.
"Blake," she said carefully, "can I ask you something personal?"
"After last night's confession session, I think we're past worrying about personal questions," Blake replied with gentle humor.
"Shoryu came to see me this morning," Skye said, watching Blake's expression carefully. "He wanted to talk about authentic connection and second chances."
Blake's amber eyes immediately sharpened with attention, though she tried to maintain casual composure. "What did he say?"
"That he's been trying to prove he's still the person who made promises to you years ago, instead of simply being the person he is now."
Blake was quiet for a long moment, processing this information. "And what did you tell him?"
"That authenticity requires trusting who you are now rather than trying to recreate who you used to be," Skye replied. "The same lesson I've been learning about romantic connection."
"Do you think..." Blake began, then stopped, clearly struggling with vulnerability.
"Do I think what?"
"Do you think it's possible to rebuild something that was broken by leaving? To prove that running away doesn't mean you stopped caring?"
The pain in Blake's voice was unmistakable, and Skye felt her heart go out to her friend. "Blake, do you still care about him?"
"I never stopped caring," Blake admitted quietly. "But caring about someone and knowing how to be with them are two different things. I was twelve when I left. I'm not the same person anymore."
"And he's not the same person either," Skye pointed out gently. "Which means you have the opportunity to discover who you are to each other now, rather than trying to resurrect who you were to each other then."
Blake looked up with surprise. "You think we should start over?"
"I think you should start fresh," Skye clarified. "Not pretending the past didn't happen, but not being limited by it either. See who you are when you meet each other as the people you've become."
As their conversation continued, both young women found themselves exploring questions about growth, forgiveness, and the courage required to risk connection after experiencing loss. It was the kind of deep, authentic conversation that Skye was beginning to recognize as the foundation of genuine friendship.
The day was drawing toward evening when Blake finally posed the question that had been underlying their entire discussion.
"Skye, do you think people can change enough to make different choices the second time around?"
"I think," Skye replied thoughtfully, "that people can grow wise enough to make better choices. And sometimes, the better choice the second time is the same person, approached with better understanding."
That evening, as Skye prepared for sleep, she found herself reflecting on the unexpected ways her journey toward authentic connection was rippling outward to affect others. Shoryu was reconsidering his approach to Blake. Blake was contemplating the possibility of second chances. Even Professor Ozpin was trusting her authentic self with increased responsibilities.
This is what it feels like to be genuinely yourself in the world, she realized with growing wonder. Not just accepting who you are, but trusting that who you are has value worth sharing.
The Vytal Festival was still approaching with all its opportunities and challenges. Her own romantic future remained uncertain and unscripted. But for the first time since arriving at Beacon, she felt genuinely excited about both uncertainties—not because she had a plan for managing them, but because she trusted herself to meet them with authenticity and grace.
Beacon Academy - Amphitheater - The Following Day
The morning's announcement about the shadow missions had created a buzz of excitement throughout the first-year students, but Skye found herself feeling unusually calm about the prospect. Instead of her typical anxiety about new challenges, she felt genuine curiosity about what kind of professional Huntsman she might be paired with and what she could learn from the experience.
Standing with her cousins in the amphitheater as Professor Ozpin concluded his speech about the Great War and the tradition of color names, Skye reflected on how different her emotional state was compared to previous major announcements. She wasn't calculating optimal strategies or worrying about making good impressions—she was simply present, interested, and ready to engage authentically with whatever opportunity arose.
"Remember to be safe, remember your training, and remember to do your very best," Professor Ozpin concluded, and the students began filing out toward the mission selection terminals.
"Any preference for regions?" Max asked as they approached one of the holographic displays. "Mountain patrol? Urban security? Grimm clearing?"
"Honestly?" Skye replied, surprising herself with the admission, "I'm more interested in the Huntsman we'll be working with than the specific mission type. This is a chance to learn from someone with real experience."
Koga nodded thoughtfully. "That's a mature perspective. What kind of professional do you think you'd learn most from?"
Before Skye could answer, commotion erupted near the main entrance as Team CFVY returned from their extended mission. The sight of Velvet's shaken demeanor and the team's obvious exhaustion sent a ripple of concern through the gathered students.
"That doesn't look encouraging," Mist observed quietly.
Skye watched as Blake approached Velvet with gentle concern, noting how her friend's natural empathy created space for honest communication even in a crowd. It was another example of authentic connection—no performed social niceties, just genuine care expressed naturally.
That's what I want to emulate, Skye realized. Not the social performance, but the natural impulse to connect with others from a place of genuine concern.
"Skye?" Max's voice brought her back to the mission selection process. "You were saying about what kind of Huntsman you'd want to work with?"
"Someone who values authenticity over image," she replied without hesitation. "Someone who can teach us not just combat techniques, but how to be genuine professionals in this field."
As they browsed through available missions, Skye found herself drawn to opportunities that emphasized investigation and community interaction rather than pure combat scenarios. Not because she was avoiding challenge, but because she was genuinely curious about the broader aspects of Huntsman work.
"Border patrol in the eastern settlements," she suggested, highlighting a mission description. "Working with local communities to assess Grimm activity patterns. That sounds like it would involve real problem-solving and human connection."
"Plus," Koga added with approval, "working directly with civilian populations would give us insight into what we're actually protecting and why it matters."
They were about to select the mission when Skye noticed Team RWBY's obvious frustration at a nearby terminal. Ruby was gesticulating animatedly while her teammates looked on with various expressions of disappointment.
"First-years aren't allowed," Yang was saying with clear irritation. "Of course."
Without really thinking about it—just responding to her natural impulse to help—Skye approached their terminal.
"Having trouble finding something suitable?" she asked with genuine curiosity rather than condescending concern.
"All the interesting missions are restricted," Ruby explained with obvious disappointment. "We were hoping for something in the southeast, but—"
"The southeast?" Skye felt her eyebrows rise with interest. "That's where the Grimm concentration has been unusually high lately, isn't it?"
Blake nodded. "We have... reasons for being interested in that area specifically."
Something in Blake's tone suggested there was more to their interest than simple mission preference, but Skye didn't press. Instead, she found herself genuinely hoping they would find a way to pursue whatever was drawing them there.
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "sometimes the best opportunities come from unexpected sources. Maybe Professor Ozpin has some insight into alternatives?"
As if summoned by their conversation, Professor Ozpin appeared at their cluster of terminals, observing their selections with characteristic calm attention.
"Having difficulty finding suitable assignments?" he asked, though his tone suggested he was already aware of their various predicaments.
The conversation that followed—Ozpin's gentle confrontation of Team RWBY's obvious agenda and his ultimate decision to bend the rules for them—struck Skye as a masterclass in authentic leadership. The headmaster wasn't performing authority or making strategic calculations; he was responding to his genuine assessment of these students' capabilities and motivations.
That's what authentic authority looks like, she realized. Not trying to control outcomes, but trusting people to rise to appropriate challenges.
After Team RWBY left for their suddenly-approved mission, Professor Ozpin turned his attention to Skye and her cousins.
"And what draws your interest, Miss Dragonblade?"
"The eastern border settlements, sir," Skye replied. "We're interested in learning about community-oriented Huntsman work."
Ozpin's slight smile suggested approval. "An excellent choice. You'll be working with Huntsman Marcus Vale—a veteran who specializes in long-term relationship building with frontier communities. He values authenticity and genuine connection over flashy heroics."
"That sounds perfect," Skye said with genuine enthusiasm.
"I thought it might," Ozpin replied with the kind of knowing look that suggested he had specifically selected this assignment with her recent growth in mind.
Beacon Academy - Airship Terminal - Later That Morning
As they waited for their transport to the eastern settlements, Skye found herself in conversation with students from other teams who were also embarking on their first professional shadowing experiences.
"Nervous?" asked a girl from Team ABRN, adjusting her gear nervously.
"Excited," Skye replied honestly. "This feels like the beginning of understanding what being a professional Huntress actually means."
"Aren't you worried about making mistakes? Or not being impressive enough?"
The question struck Skye as exactly the kind of concern that would have consumed her just weeks ago. Now, it felt like an opportunity to share what she'd learned about authentic engagement.
"I think the goal is to learn, not to impress," she said gently. "If we're focused on trying to seem capable rather than actually developing capability, we're probably missing the point."
The girl looked surprised by this perspective. "You don't worry about what the professional thinks of you?"
"I worry about whether I'm being genuine in my interactions and honest about my current skill level," Skye clarified. "But I think worrying about managing someone else's opinion of me would actually interfere with learning from them."
As their conversation continued, Skye realized she was naturally sharing the insights she'd gained through her recent personal growth. Not preaching or trying to fix anyone else's anxiety, but simply offering her own experience authentically when it felt relevant.
This is what it feels like to be genuinely helpful, she thought with quiet satisfaction. Sharing what you've learned without trying to control how others use it.
Eastern Border Settlements - Afternoon
Huntsman Marcus Vale proved to be exactly what Professor Ozpin had suggested—a weathered professional whose approach to Grimm management was built on deep relationships with the communities he protected. Middle-aged and practical, he greeted Skye's team with the kind of straightforward assessment that immediately put them at ease.
"I've read your files," he said without preamble as they disembarked from the transport. "Good combat skills, solid teamwork, some impressive strategic thinking. What I want to know is whether you understand that protecting people is about more than fighting monsters."
"What else does it involve?" Max asked with genuine curiosity.
"Understanding what makes communities strong enough to survive when you're not here," Marcus replied. "Building relationships that create resilience. Helping people trust their own capabilities instead of depending entirely on outside rescue."
As he led them through the settlement, introducing them to local leaders and explaining the ongoing challenges with Grimm activity, Skye found herself deeply engaged with the human elements of Huntsman work.
"The Grimm aren't just randomly aggressive," Marcus explained as they toured the settlement's defensive preparations. "They're drawn to negative emotions—fear, anger, despair. Which means part of our job is helping communities maintain hope and solidarity."
"How do you do that?" Koga asked.
"By being genuinely present when you're here, and by helping build systems that continue working when you're gone," Marcus replied. "It's less about being impressive and more about being trustworthy."
The insight resonated deeply with Skye's recent understanding of authentic connection. "You're talking about genuine relationship-building rather than performance-based interaction."
Marcus looked at her with sharp interest. "Exactly. What made you think of it that way?"
"Personal experience with the difference between trying to impress people and actually connecting with them," Skye replied honestly.
"Good. That's the foundation of effective community protection work."
As the afternoon progressed, Skye found herself in conversation with settlement residents about their daily challenges, their fears about Grimm activity, and their strategies for maintaining morale during difficult periods. Instead of trying to project confidence or expertise she didn't have, she simply listened with genuine interest and asked questions that came from real curiosity.
"You actually care about understanding our situation," observed Elena, one of the settlement's council members, during a break in their patrol planning. "Most young Huntsmen are so focused on proving themselves that they don't really hear what we're telling them."
"Your situation is the whole reason we're training to be Huntresses," Skye replied. "It makes sense to understand what we're actually trying to protect."
That evening, as they made camp just outside the settlement, Marcus offered his first formal assessment of their performance.
"Good instincts today," he told them around the campfire. "You listened more than you talked, asked relevant questions, and showed genuine interest in the people rather than just the mission parameters."
"Is that unusual?" Mist asked.
"More than you'd think," Marcus replied. "A lot of young Huntsmen are so focused on demonstrating their combat skills that they forget the human element entirely."
"What's the most important thing we should learn from this experience?" Skye asked.
Marcus considered the question carefully. "That being a Huntsman is fundamentally about service. Not glory, not proving yourself, not even just fighting monsters. It's about understanding what communities need and finding ways to provide it authentically."
As they settled in for the night, Skye felt a deep sense of rightness about the path she was discovering. This work—connecting with people, understanding their real needs, building trust through genuine presence—felt like a natural extension of the personal growth she'd been experiencing.
The mission was just beginning, but she already knew that this experience would be transformative in ways that went far beyond combat training or mission completion. She was discovering what it meant to be of service from a place of authentic connection.
And that felt like exactly where she was meant to be.
Mountain Glenn Mission - Awakening Changes
Mountain Glenn - Day One
The ruined cityscape of Mountain Glenn stretched before Team RWBY like a monument to failure, its broken buildings and overgrown streets telling the story of humanity's greatest urban disaster. Dr. Oobleck moved with manic energy through the destruction, his archaeological enthusiasm undimmed by the obvious danger surrounding them.
"Ladies! You still may be students, but as of this moment, your first mission as Huntresses has begun!" Oobleck announced after they'd disembarked from the airship. "From this point forward, you need to do exactly as I say! Do you understand?"
The team nodded, though Ruby's attention was momentarily distracted by an unexpected sensation—the air seemed... richer somehow. More complex. She could distinguish individual scents with startling clarity: the decay of abandoned buildings, the metallic tang of old dust, the earthy smell of Grimm that had passed through recently, and something else... something wild and untamed that she couldn't quite identify.
"Ruby!" Oobleck's sharp voice snapped her back to attention. "I thought I told you to leave all of your bags back at school."
The familiar routine of explaining Zwei's presence played out, but as Ruby interacted with her pet, she noticed something odd. When she whispered to Zwei to get back in the bag, the dog immediately responded—not just to her words, but to something else. As if he could sense something about her that had changed.
"We're here to investigate an abandoned urban jungle teeming with death and hostility, and you brought... a dog?" Oobleck asked with apparent disapproval.
But then his demeanor shifted completely. "Genius! Canines are historically known for their perceptive nose and heightened sense of sound, making them excellent companions for a hunt such as ours!"
As Oobleck spun Zwei in the air, Ruby felt a strange resonance with his words about perceptive noses. Her own sense of smell had been unusually sharp all morning, picking up details she'd never noticed before. She'd initially attributed it to the mountain air, but now she wondered if something else was happening.
"I'm a genius!" she announced proudly, though privately she was beginning to wonder what exactly was changing within her.
First Encounter
When the lone Beowolf appeared in the street, Dr. Oobleck's lesson about Grimm behavior and pack mentality should have been Ruby's primary focus. Instead, she found herself acutely aware of the creature's scent—not just the typical Grimm malevolence, but layers of information she'd never been able to detect before. The Beowolf was young, recently separated from its pack, and... hungry. Desperately hungry.
"We wait. We track," Oobleck instructed. "If this specimen leads us to its pack, that pack may subsequently lead us to our prey."
But the waiting period was cut short as more Beowolves emerged from the ruins. As they prepared for combat, Ruby felt something building within her—not just adrenaline, but something deeper and more primal.
"Show me what you're capable of," Oobleck commanded.
"Cover your ears, Zwei!" Ruby called out, raising Crescent Rose.
What happened next defied everything Ruby thought she understood about her own abilities.
As she fired her first shot, the recoil that should have been manageable instead propelled her forward with incredible force. But it wasn't just the momentum from her weapon—the air around her seemed to respond to her movement, creating a gust of wind that was far stronger than anything Crescent Rose should have generated.
She spun through the air, her scythe cutting through the first Beowolf with ease, but as she landed and pivoted for her next attack, the wind followed her movements like a living thing. Leaves and debris swirled around her in patterns that had nothing to do with natural air currents.
What the hell? she thought, but there was no time to analyze as more Grimm closed in.
Her teammates were equally engaged in combat, but Ruby found herself distracted by the strange sensations coursing through her body. Each movement felt more fluid, more natural than before, and the wind seemed to anticipate her actions. When she swung Crescent Rose in a wide arc, a gust of air followed the blade's path, hitting Grimm that were well beyond her weapon's actual reach.
And then there was the sound.
As she delivered what should have been a normal strike to the final Beowolf, a low rumble accompanied the impact—not quite thunder, but something similar. The Grimm staggered not just from her scythe, but from what sounded like a sonic boom that had no identifiable source.
"Piece of cake!" she announced to Dr. Oobleck, trying to sound normal despite the fact that her heart was racing with more than just combat adrenaline.
But even as she sheathed her weapon, Ruby could feel a strange itching sensation at the base of her spine, right where her lower back met her tailbone. It wasn't painful, but it was persistent and unlike anything she'd experienced before.
Yang's Discovery
While Ruby was grappling with her own mysterious changes, Yang was having an equally confusing experience with her Semblance.
The first sign something was different came during her opening attack on the Beowolves. As she charged forward with her usual explosive enthusiasm, her hair began to glow—not with the familiar golden light of her normal Semblance activation, but with something that seemed almost molten.
Her punch connected with the first Beowolf with devastating effect, but instead of her typical fiery impact, the creature was literally incinerated. Not just knocked out or killed—reduced to ash with a heat so intense that the surrounding stone cracked and began to glow red-hot.
"Whoa," Yang breathed, staring at her smoking fist. The temperature of her flames had never reached anything close to that level before. It felt like her Semblance had been supercharged, cranked up to a setting she didn't know existed.
As she moved to engage the next group of Grimm, Yang noticed that her peripheral vision seemed sharper, more acute. She could track multiple targets simultaneously with an ease that felt new and strange. And like Ruby, she was becoming aware of scents with an intensity that was almost overwhelming—not just the Grimm, but the individual scent signatures of her teammates, the specific mineral composition of the ruins around them, even the direction of the wind.
Her subsequent attacks continued to produce the same superheated results. Where her Semblance normally created flames hot enough to damage and disorient, now she was generating heat that could melt stone. Beowolves didn't just fall to her punches—they were obliterated.
But most disturbing was the same itching sensation that Ruby was experiencing. Yang felt it as a persistent tingling at her lower back, concentrated right at the base of her spine. She'd initially tried to ignore it as a result of sleeping on unfamiliar bedding at Beacon, but the sensation was getting stronger, not weaker.
What is happening to me? she wondered as she watched another Grimm turn to vapor under the intensity of her enhanced flames.
Pattern Recognition
As the day progressed and they encountered multiple groups of Grimm, both sisters began to notice that their changes were becoming more pronounced rather than settling down.
Ruby's control over air currents was developing into something that felt almost instinctive. When she moved quickly, the wind moved with her. When she struck with her scythe, gusts of air extended her reach. And the thunder-like sounds that accompanied her attacks were becoming more frequent and more intense.
During one particularly intense skirmish, Ruby found herself unconsciously creating what could only be described as a small tornado around herself. Debris and smaller Grimm were caught up in the swirling air currents, while she remained perfectly centered and stable in the eye of her own personal storm.
"Ruby!" Weiss called out in alarm. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know!" Ruby called back honestly, her voice somehow carrying clearly despite the howling wind around her.
Yang's experience was equally dramatic. Her enhanced flames were beginning to take on characteristics that defied normal fire behavior. Instead of the typical orange and red of combustion, her Semblance was producing flames that shifted between white-hot and an almost blue-white intensity that was painful to look at directly.
When she punched the ground in frustration during a brief lull in combat, her fist left not just a crater, but a patch of glass where the sand had been instantly superheated and fused.
"Yang," Blake said quietly, staring at the glassy patch. "Your Semblance doesn't normally do that."
"I know," Yang replied, flexing her fingers and watching small flames dance across her knuckles. "I have no idea what's happening."
Both sisters were also becoming aware that their enhanced senses weren't limited to smell. Their hearing was more acute, allowing them to detect Grimm approaching from much greater distances. Their vision seemed sharper, particularly in low light conditions. And they were both developing an almost supernatural awareness of their teammates' locations and movements.
Dr. Oobleck's Questions
As the day wore on, Dr. Oobleck began his individual interviews with the team members. When he spoke with Yang about her motivations for becoming a Huntress, she found it difficult to concentrate on his questions. The itching sensation at her lower back was becoming more intense, and she was increasingly aware of scents and sounds that should have been too faint to detect.
"The honest reason? I'm a thrill-seeker," she managed to answer, though part of her attention was focused on trying to understand what was happening to her body. "I want to travel around the world and get wrapped up in as many crazy adventures as I can."
But even as she spoke, Yang found herself wondering if her motivations might be changing along with her abilities. The enhanced intensity of her combat experience was unlike anything she'd felt before—not just exciting, but somehow more... primal. More connected to something fundamental about who she was.
When Dr. Oobleck questioned Weiss and Blake, Ruby found herself positioned where she could observe the interviews. Her enhanced hearing allowed her to pick up not just their words, but the subtle changes in their heartrates, their breathing patterns, even the slight shifts in their body temperature that indicated emotional responses.
It was during Blake's interview, when she struggled to answer Dr. Oobleck's question about how she planned to address the world's problems, that Ruby realized her enhanced senses were giving her access to information about her friends that felt invasive. She could tell that Blake was experiencing genuine distress, that her uncertainty about her path forward was causing physical symptoms of anxiety.
This is too much, Ruby thought. I shouldn't be able to tell all this just from listening.
Evening Revelations
When they made camp for the night in one of the abandoned buildings, both Ruby and Yang found themselves struggling with their enhanced senses. The scents, sounds, and tactile sensations that they could now detect were almost overwhelming in their intensity.
"I can't believe we didn't find anything," Yang said, but her voice was strained with more than just disappointment about their mission objectives.
As her teammates discussed their reasons for becoming Huntresses, Ruby sat at her watch position with Zwei, trying to process everything that had happened during the day. The itching sensation at her lower back had become a constant awareness, and she found herself unconsciously reaching back to touch the area, though she couldn't feel anything unusual through her clothing.
Zwei seemed to sense her distress, moving closer and whining softly. But what surprised Ruby was that she could understand his whine with a clarity that went beyond normal pet-owner intuition. The dog was responding to changes in her scent, changes that indicated stress and confusion.
Even Zwei can tell something's different about me, she realized.
When Yang came to ask about Dr. Oobleck's questions, Ruby noticed immediately that her sister was experiencing similar symptoms. Yang's normal body temperature seemed elevated, and there was a subtle change in her scent that suggested elevated stress hormones.
"Hey, did Oobleck ask you why you wanted to be a Huntress?" Yang asked. "I mean... what did you tell him?"
"No, he didn't. Weird," Ruby replied, but what she didn't mention was that she'd been too distracted by her own physical changes to wonder why she'd been excluded from the questioning.
After Yang left, Ruby remained at her watch position, staring out at the ruins of Mountain Glenn while Zwei settled beside her. The enhanced senses that had been overwhelming during the day now provided a different kind of information—she could detect Grimm moving through the ruins at distances that should have been impossible, tracking their movements by scent and sound long before they came close enough to threaten their camp.
But it was as she sat in the quiet darkness, listening to her teammates trying to sleep despite their own uncertainties, that Ruby began to suspect that whatever was happening to her and Yang was just the beginning of something much larger.
The itching sensation at her lower back pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, and for just a moment, Ruby could have sworn she felt something beneath her skin responding to her emotions. Something that wanted to emerge.
Things will be better tomorrow, she whispered to Zwei, though she wasn't at all certain that was true.
Whatever was happening to the Rose sisters, Ruby had a feeling that tomorrow would bring not answers, but even more dramatic changes. And as she sat watch over her sleeping friends, she couldn't shake the feeling that their mission to Mountain Glenn was about to become far more significant than anyone had anticipated.
The wind picked up around their building, responding to Ruby's emotional state in ways that defied natural explanation. And somewhere in the darkness, Yang's dreams were filled with flames that burned hotter than stars, while the same mysterious itching sensation pulsed at the base of her spine like a heartbeat.
Changes were coming to the Rose sisters—changes that would transform not just their abilities, but their understanding of who and what they truly were.
to be continued in Chapter 17: Mountain Glenn