Autumn Winds

The next few weeks after the confrontation with Emerald passed, thankfully, without incident.  The intel remained on John’s scroll, however, a glaring reminder that this peace was only temporary.  The information was patchy—Cinder seemed to like to keep the details of her plans on a need-to-know basis, and was stingy about what Emerald needed to know—but two general points of interest stood out: Cinder wanted to know just how far a Semblance could be pushed, and she still was focused on regaining the rest of the Fall Maiden’s powers and using them to their full extent.  Both were concerning to say the least, and the Agency had been working on figuring out a way to combat Cinder and her forces.

But for John and Autumn, at least, life had gone back to being normal.  Or at least, as normal as the life of a Maiden and Shadow could be.  Professor Ozpin had arranged for the two to live in an apartment close to the Agency HQ to stay so they didn’t have to continue to stay in the Vault.  They were both extremely thankful for that—neither wanted to think about what had happened down there. 

This particular afternoon, John was seated on the couch that was located in the central living area of the apartment while Autumn paced nearby.  Every few seconds, she would turn towards him and make a strange face.

“Autumn,” John sighed and lowered the newspaper he was reading, “what the hell are you even doing?  Besides acting like a five-year-old.”

Autumn stopped in front of John and placed her hands on her hips, “I am trying to make a certain someone,” she pointed at him, “smile.  Because the only time I ever see anything other than a scowl is when Ruby comes by and makes a fool of herself.”

“I smile more than you think.” John smirked pointedly up at Autumn.

“No, what you are doing right now in smirking.  I am talking about a genuine smile.  Like the one on Ruby’s face whenever she talks about weapon modifications.  Or the one Nora has around pancakes.”

Before John could start a retort his scroll pinged.  He pulled the scroll out of his pocket and held it up to his ear.

“John, I need you and Autumn in the briefing room at HQ in an hour.”

“Right.  We’ll be there soon.”  But the caller had already hung up before John finished speaking.  This had to be urgent.  Professor Ozpin rarely ever called.  Even summons to important meetings were done through message.

John set his newspaper on the couch next to him and stood up, turning his head to glance at Autumn as she fell in behind him.

“Ozpin has a mission for us,” his tone was businesslike, the levity of earlier forgotten, “come on we don’t want to be late.

“Sorry to call you two in on such a short notice but something urgent has come up.”  Professor Ozpin stood before the two in the briefing room, a white-knuckled grip on his ever-present mug. “One of our agents in the field went dark.”

“Why is this so important, Sir?”  John’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “Qrow went dark all the time when you sent him out in the field.”  His teacher had always said having to check-in every-so-often could lead to a cover being blown.

“I understand how Qrow works.  However, all a check-in requires is the agent’s scroll to be turned on and a ping will be picked up here.  This agent has missed the last 4 pings.”

“Who is it?” This time Autumn was the one who spoke.  Concern was evident on her face, and understandably so—in the past few weeks, she had befriended a large chunk of the Agency, so chances were she knew whoever it was.

The professor placed his scroll on his desk then sat down and tapped the screen.  The familiar image of a black-haired girl with a black bow was projected.  “Blake Belladonna was assigned to track down White Fang camps and determine whether they were still allied with Cinder.”

“You let her be assigned to tracking down the White Fang and you didn’t expect something like this to happen?” John asked incredulously. 

“I did not assign her the task,” the silver-haired man clarified, leaning forward, “She volunteered, and I suspect she would have gone after the White Fang anyway had I not permitted her.  I had hoped she would be better off with Agency oversight, but now she has disregarded that.” 

John sighed.  Yang was right, it seemed.  Blake really had changed.  Although I suppose we all have, he reflected bitterly as he took in the confusion on Autumn’s face.  

“Hang on,” Autumn sounded just as confused as she looked, “Why not send Yang?  She and Blake are partners, right?  Wouldn’t she be the best person to send?”  Professor Ozpin shook his head, “I considered it, but there’s too much risk that she would disappear as well.”  Autumn still looked baffled, but understanding dawned in John’s eyes.

He turned and started making his way to the door.  “Just send the coordinates to her last known location and we will head straight there.”

“Did you hear that?” John held out an arm, stopping Autumn, “There’s something over there.”  With his other hand, he indicated a patch of bushes that had just rustled.  The two were just outside Vale’s walls on the way to the known White Fang camp that had been Blake’s last known location.  They were traveling on foot this time—this mission covered a much shorter distance and called for more subtlety.  Although not enough if they were being followed already.

“Grimm?” Autumn murmured, her hands already going for her weapon.

“Maybe,” John’s sword was drawn and he was staring intently at the suspicious spot, “but we’re too close to Vale.”  He took a couple of steps towards the source of the sound, but before he could go any farther, a familiar blonde burst out from the bushes.

“Phew, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to catch up to you,” Yang Xiaolong walked up alongside John and Autumn casually, as if they had planned this all along, “So you’ve got the coordinates, right?  How far are we from where Blake was last?”

“It’s not that far from Vale, we should be…” Autumn began, but John cut her off curtly with a, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Yang turned from facing Autumn to glare at John, “Blake’s in trouble.  Of course I should be here.”

“Professor Ozpin said…”

“He said I was too close, that he didn’t want to risk me running off the way Blake did,” Yang finished John’s sentence for him, “Yeah, he said that to me too, right before he basically locked me in Agency HQ.  But I’m here, and I’m helping you find my partner,” Yang’s eyes narrowed, and for a second, John could have sworn he saw red, “no matter what either of you tell me.”

Autumn smiled and, attempting to defuse the situation before it escalated, said, “Well, the more the merrier, right, John?”  While she was smiling, her eyes dared him to try to argue.  John, knowing he’d been beaten, sighed, “Fine.”

“So what’s the problem with Blake going after the White Fang, anyway?”  Autumn asked as the trio walked through the woods, “Or with you going after her, Yang?  I think that all sounds like it’d make sense.” 

“It isn’t that Blake isn’t a good choice,” John said, shaking his head, “it’s that she is too good.  Blake used to be part of the White Fang but left prior to her entering Beacon.”  John looked intently at Autumn’s face for a moment, but before he could add anything Yang spoke up.

“There’s more to it than that,” she said, her voice low, “There’s a guy.  I think he’s high-ranking in the White Fang, but I don’t know how.  And he…”  Yang took a pause before continuing.  “He was Blake’s partner when she was in the White Fang.  During the Battle of Beacon, Blake and I were separated.  I was looking for her, and when I found her, he was about to stab her,” she sighed, “I, well… I lost my temper.  I changed him, and the next thing I knew,” Yang held her prosthetic arm out flexed her hand, “My arm was gone.  Blake saved my life—saved both our lives, but she blames herself, maybe even more than she blames him.”

“Oh,” Autumn’s face fell and she spent the next few minutes in contemplative silence.

“But then why us?  Isn’t there someone else who could do this?  We should be focusing on figuring out where Cinder is and how to get the rest of my Maiden powers.”

“We were chosen because if the White Fang is still involved with Cinder, Blake might have found out something important.” 

“Besides,” Yang added resentfully, “John’s the only person who was close to Blake that’s around.  That he trusts, anyway,” that last part was growled under her breath.

Wait, John knew Blake that well?  Autumn was curious, but she filed that question in her mind for later.  They were almost there, and they shouldn’t be distracted.

(Page Break)

The three spent several hours searching the forest before John stopped in front of several subtle scratches on a tree, holding up a hand to stop his companions as well.

“These are White Fang symbols.  If we follow them we should be able to find where the camp is.”  John ran his fingers over one of the signs.

“You sure?”  Yang leaned forward and squinted as if to get a better view of the markings, “They just look like some random scratches to me.  How do you know it wasn’t some Ursa sharpening its claws?”

“Qrow taught me a lot.”  He grinned, then held up his scroll, adding, “It was also in the briefing that Ozpin sent to me.”

John was able to use the signs to find a trail which led to an eerily quiet campsite.

“I think this is the place John.”  Autumn hesitated, searching for signs of activity at the campsite, “What do we do?”

Yang leaned forward, scanning the campsite intently.  “Y’know,” she commented, “I thought the White Fang camp would have more White Fang in it.”

Autumn nodded, “There’s no one here, but the tents and stuff are.  What do you think that means?”

“It means they had to leave in a hurry,” John stepped out into the camp, confident that there was no one there, “Could be Grimm, or...” he paused, then sighed, “Let’s search the camp.  Be careful.  Whatever made them leave might still be here.” 

“You don’t know Blake like I do, if there was something here that wasn’t White Fang, it is either dead or long gone.”  Yang stood and made her way into the camp.

The camp didn’t seem too terribly disorganized, but John did notice several of the tents were riddled with bullet holes.  Either the camp was attacked or the White Fang had horrible safety standards when it came to practice exercises.  Either way, that probably ruled out a Grimm attack.  The campfire had been out for a while, if John had to guess it had been at least half a day since it had been lit.  John noticed Yang at a table near the center of camp, picking up cups and tossing them aside before checking the nearby crates as if searching for any sign that would place Blake at this particular camp.  He was about to check in one of the tents, but before he could enter it he heard Autumn call out from the entrance of the large central tent.

“John, come here!”  She waved him over, “I found something.”