Qrow ruffled Ruby's hair and muttered some sarcastic remark that he didn't pay much attention to; his thoughts were focused on Azrael. Between his reconnaissance with Raven, his own experience watching Vengarl and the apparently deceased Lucatiel in the Forest, and the rumors now swirling around Vale about one of the students from Shade going on a rampage before Vengarl dispatched him—only for the student to disappear into a cloud of ashes—Ozpin's foremost scout had seen and heard enough about the absurdly oversized swordsman. No, what concerned Qrow was Vengarl's almost slavishly obedient attitude towards Azrael. It reminded Qrow of how he and Glynda deferred to Ozpin, but even more so…Vengarl never even questioned Azrael's judgement, not for a moment. As far as Qrow was concerned, the only way you could get that kind of loyalty was through fear. Either Vengarl is so completely afraid of Azrael that he doesn't even consider questioning him, or… Qrow didn't know what the alternative was, but he had a feeling it was above his pay grade. As Qrow began walking towards the school, a faint buzzing around his ear grew louder, and he remembered that Ruby was still literally hanging off of his arm.

"UNCLE QROW UNCLE QROW THAT WAS SO COOL HOW YOU FOUGHT HER! YOU WERE ALL LIKE WHOOSH AND SHE WAS LIKE 'ARGH!' BUT THEN YOU WERE LIKE…" All at once, Ruby stopped her rambling, and a strange expression crossed her face for a moment, followed by the biggest smile Qrow had ever seen—and for somebody who spent the better part of a decade helping Taiyang raise his daughters, that was saying something. "UNCLEQROWYOUHAVETOCOMEWITHMERIGHTNOW!"

"And why is that, Pipsqueak?"

Before Ruby began yet another loud run-on sentence, Yang stepped in, covering her excitable sister's mouth with her hands. "Trust us, old man, this is better as a surprise. Just come with me." Yang threw Ruby over her shoulder, ignoring the diminutive reaper's protests. Qrow smirked and followed as Yang began the walk towards the north dorms.

Azrael watched Qrow and Winter leave to speak with their respective family members, wincing as his body reminded him of his wound. The Chaos Blade had left its mark on him, and now Shiva had stolen it—and not only that, the traitor had managed to escape virtually unscathed—and Azrael had too many things to do at Beacon to give chase. Azrael was sure that he'd been in worse situations at some point in his long life, but at the moment he couldn't recall any. Thankfully, he was not alone.

"Vengarl, I need you to follow Qrow. Unless we can find Raven, he's the only one who knows where Shiva ran off to. We need the location of his and Raven's village."

"What if he is unwilling to share that information?"

Azrael's eyes darkened. "Make him willing. With force, if necessary." He paused for a moment before adding, "Just don't do it in front of Yang and Ruby. Beyond that…nothing is off-limits. We have to get the Chaos Blade back."

"Winter! How have you—I mean, it is an honor for you to visit us, Specialist." Weiss cut herself off, remembering all the Atlesian manners Jacques had managed to drill into her head before Azrael had cut him off from his daughters.

Winter laughed—a melodic sound deeply at odds with her oh-so-professional outfit. "No need for that, Weiss. The General isn't here right now, he has elected to stay aboard the flagship for the duration of the Festival." Winter grabbed her younger sibling in a hug and whispered in her ear. "I missed you, Weiss. Let's talk somewhere a bit more private."

"But what about Azr-"

"That's why I want to make sure this is private." Weiss broke the hug and looked at her sister for an explanation. Receiving none, she shook off her confusion and walked with Winter towards one of the private dining areas reserved for foreign dignitaries—which Winter technically is, I suppose, Weiss thought.

The pair of white-haired sisters sat down in silence. After making sure nobody was listening in, Winter began to speak. "So, Weiss, tell me, how are you?"

"I'm…fine, Winter. Why did you insist on us being so secluded? It's not like you to keep something from Azrael." Weiss was confused. If anyone idolized Azrael more than Weiss had growing up, it was her sister. It didn't make any sense that she would be hiding something from him.

"I wanted to talk about your training. How is it going? Is Azrael being fair?" Winter dodged the issue again.

"It has been going very well. Azrael doesn't have as much time to spend with me as he did in Atlas, but that's to be expected—he has many other students to instruct as well. Winter, what's wrong?"

Ignoring the question, Winter plowed forward. "And your Semblance? How is that going?"

"Very well, actually. I can even use my glyphs to create a small time-dilation field now."

"And your summoning?"

Weiss blushed. "Well, the thing about that…Azrael demanded I stop."

Winter frowned. "Damn it, I knew it. He's treating you like you're made of porcelain."

"What? He absolutely is not! You haven't seen our class's training regimen."

"I'm sure that it's downright brutal. I am also certain that Azrael is terrified that you will get hurt. Do you know how our Semblance works, Weiss?"

"We can summon enemies we have defeated."

"Then how did I summon Azrael?" Weiss's eyes widened. But…how does it work then? Winter answered the question before it could be voiced. "Our summoning does not respond to enemies we have killed in battle. It responds to extreme emotion. In my case, I thought I wanted to show you that I could do it, but in reality…I wanted a protector."

"Winter, I don't understand."

Winter's expression hardened. "That's because you didn't grow up under our father's thumb; you were young enough when Azrael arrived that Jacques Gele never beat you with a switch until your posture was perfect. That day, I wanted to summon a Beowolf to kill him. Azrael's soul latched on to that desire, and here we are today."

Weiss couldn't believe it. She had always known that her father was an arrogant narcissist, but Weiss had never witnessed his cruelty firsthand. Moreover, she couldn't believe that Winter was capable of such vitriol. "But…does that mean that…" Weiss trailed off as Winter activated a glyph beside her and a large figure came into existence. It glowed white, like all of the Schnee summons, but this was no creature of Remnant. Nearly ten feet tall, the creature was bare-chested and held two enormous cleavers in its hands. More disconcerting than its weapons, however, was its face. The monster's entire head was covered by a goat skull with two blazing red eyes on the sides. The creature dropped to one knee at Winter's side, in a mockery of knightly supplication.

"You see what I mean, sister?"

Weiss gulped as Winter canceled the summon and the Capra Demon dissolved into nothing, the elkder Schnee's point proven. "Y-yes, Winter."

"Any time you are in grave danger, think to Azrael's stories. Think of the hardest trials he faced, and the greatest monsters he defeated. With enough willpower, you can summon them to your aid." Weiss looked at the ground, deep in thought. "Anyway…who was that man with Azrael?"

"Oh, that's Vengarl. He and Lucatiel came to our world to try and find Azrael. They helped him with training us, and even took some of the students out on missions."

"Really? And how did those missions go?"

Weiss's expression turned to one of grief. She had liked Lucatiel. The woman was a harsh teacher, but Weiss knew it was only to ensure they became as strong as possible. "Vengarl was gravely injured in the defense of Fort Alcova but recovered quickly, and Lucatiel was killed by a herd of Behemoths."

"She took on a whole herd?" Winter was shocked. Even a full team of Huntsmen would avoid a single Behemoth rather than attack it.

"According to Pyrrha, she held off the last two while Team JNPR escaped, along with two other students, but she never returned."

"That is unfortunate. Please pass my condolences on to Azrael."

"Why can't you tell him yourself?"

"Unfortunately, General Ironwood requires me to return to Atlas in his absence. That he allowed me to come and meet with you was already quite generous." Winter got up from her chair and hugged Weiss before turning to leave. "I hope to see you and your team in the winner's circle in a few days, Weiss." Without another word, Winter left.

"I love you too, Winter." Weiss wasn't sure if Winter even heard her.

Mercury leaned against a wall in the food court, exuding an air of smug calm as he always did. On the inside, the orphan-turned-assassin was anything but composed. He told Emerald that he was just a bit shaken up after the verbal lashing Cinder had given them, berating them for potentially blowing their cover—after all, Qrow had seen Emerald and Mercury's faces during their nearly successful attack on Amber. But Cinder's anger was, for once, very far from Mercury's current chain of thought.

Mercury Black had never questioned his decision to kill his father—as far as Mercury was concerned, it was simply the right thing. Marcus deserved to die, and so he died. Cinder saved his life, and so he killed the people she needed dead. It was repaying a debt.

But since he had joined Azrael's class, doubt had begun to creep into his thoughts. Doubts he did not dare share with anyone. Cinder would kill him if she knew how close he had come to turning her in to Azrael, and Emerald was wrapped around Cinder's finger so tightly she would have parroted any confession of Mercury's right back to the older woman—either way, Mercury would be as good as dead. Neo would've recorded the conversation and used it to blackmail him into buying her more ice cream.

I really need new friends.

And that was exactly the problem. Against Mercury's better judgement, he had started to get new friends—Ruby, Coco, Team SSSN, even Cardin. These people were the first people in Mercury's entire life who had shown him any true affection. And it was eating him up inside, because Mercury knew what would happen to them once Cinder's plan came to fruition.

Over the past several months, Mercury had changed. He attempted to hide it, but Emerald had noticed it. When they had killed Tukson, Emerald had been the one to do the deed—not the assassin, but the street rat. His partner had covered for him, but it wouldn't last. Especially now that the plan was reaching its final stages.

Cardin and Velvet walked by, gesturing warmly to Mercury as the two made for Team CFVY's table. Cinder mentioned we'll be fighting them next round. Gritting his teeth, Mercury made up his mind and stood up straight before making a beeline for Coco. Maybe he could still help them out a bit. After all, knowing your opponent's extremely powerful Semblance before a match would probably help you plan your strategy.

So, I'm back, with a short chapter. I'm really, really sorry to leave you guys hanging for so long, but selling a house SUCKS. This is a short chapter, but I'm rusty and not really sure how much more to add. Feel free to leave any predictions in your reviews. I won't spoil anything, but if you're right you can gloat. And I promise, more will be on the way. Just not this weekend, I have a wedding to go to.