Registration

When the Sun rose the next morning, we were flying over Mistral. Gou sat in my lap, seeming understandably confused with life as he gazed out the window of the aircraft while Autumn was on my wrist, understandably apathetic about it all. Bringing them a long hadn't been difficult; when someone had questioned Gou's presence, my mother had said it was fine and that had apparently settled the matter—I suppose you probably saw weirder things, shuttling Hunters around.

As for why they were with us to begin with, my father was to blame; when we were preparing to leave, he had declared the house his sole dominion until mother returned and had shoved Gou into my arms to get him out of the way. What my father intended to do while we were away, I wasn't entirely sure, but I'd given up arguing when he'd started to simultaneously take off his pants and make nachos while in the process of telling me why Gou had to go.

And yes, he used those precise words frequently. Indeed, the majority of his argument had consisted of repeating those words with great emphasis. Nonetheless, he'd won the argument despite my mother's stares of disapproval and so Gou had been off to see the world.

I had…mixed feelings about that. Autumn, still mostly insensate and unable to communicate with anyone but me, I'd intended to bring with me since she returned to her rose form, but Gou…I didn't mind bringing him with me, per se, but I wasn't sure what to do with him during the festivities. I'd be busy a fair amount of the time as would my mom—one way or the other—and neither of us would be in situations fitting for a puppy. Hopefully, Grandmother would be willing to keep an eye on him; I'd tell her dad was being weird again and she'd understand.

Maybe, at least. I wasn't sure I understood, because my father, while often strange, wasn't stupid. Further, my mother hadn't stopped his strangeness, meaning…they both wanted me to keep the dog with me? I wasn't sure, but…well, it didn't matter.

I scratched Gou's ears absently, causing his tail to wag despite his expression of profound concentration, putting aside my thoughts to see the view. Mistral gleamed in the sunlight, thousands of buildings in as many styles unfolding in every direction with seemingly no regard for shape or age. Where Vale had once failed in its attempts to expand outwards, Mistral had achieved some success by growing up, even as they tried to preserve their pasts. As a result, ancient marble temples sat in the middle of a park surrounded by gleaming high-rises, monuments beside shopping districts. Where space was an issue, the people of Mistral reached higher, connecting large towers that sometimes ran across smaller structures, all of it forming a web of shining steel in the air, contrasting sharply with the monuments that made sure not to cross. 'Completed' buildings appeared strange, ready for further construction in the future when additional levels were required. There were massive structures where different buildings had risen so high, they'd needed to be linked together to keep from falling.

It added up to something at once chaotically deranged and artistically beautiful. That seemed…fitting, honestly.

Mistral was a gathering point for countless cultures, home to people of every size, shape, and color—one of the last remaining havens of Remnant's history. It was home to the remains of nations long gone, a display of Remnant's architectural history and diversity, and the home of Alexandria's great library which held onto some of the oldest texts in the world, one of the few insights we still had into our past and those who came before—

Because Mistral had taken those things from the nation's it had crushed. The arts and books, taken from the towns and towers of fallen enemies. The diversity, born from slaves brought home from war. The music, beauty, and knowledge weaved together from the things they took from the defeated. With its boot on the throat of the continent and its back to one of the most hostile environments on Remnant, it had reached out and devoured countries and kingdoms until it was all that remains—the shining jewel of the East, a pillar of art and industry and taste.

Of course, that had all happened a long time ago and things had changed a lot since the War, but…well, its rulers had made violently ruining the lives of everyone in their vicinity into something of an art form for about a thousand years, building one of the most successful Kingdom's in Remnant's history in the process. From Alexandria and the Romas to the Khans and the Carthans, the kingdom and its leader's had a reputation for military excellence, profound success against horrible odds, and a complete and utter lack of mercy.

It seemed odd, to think about that and know I was related to them—to the kings and queens of Mistral. That's a lot less impressive then it sounds, granted, as said rulers had a tendency to really get around, but it was true enough that my sisters and I had pretended to be princes and princesses and war leaders and fought to conquer Mistral or Remnant or just to decide who had to do the sucky chores. It always ended up being me, of course, but it had still been fun.

Still, looking down at the ancestral home of my family—both sides of it, if you go back far enough—I felt…odd. For all the games we'd played as children, it hadn't been until I'd started training my Intelligence that I really understood what all those tales of conquest and war meant, not just for Mistral, but for all the Kingdoms. Even with the Grimm, even with the world like it was, our history had been a bloody one. To the extent that Mistral's was the worst of all four, it was only because its campaigns had been the most successful.

Worse, I knew that without all those things…

I sighed, the sound drowned out by the ship landing.

"Home, sweet home," My mother said, raising the moment we were on the ground. I followed her out of the airship, carrying Gou which seemed to make him happy. We got to travel first class, thanks to Mom's mission and some company policies, and we were on the ground before anyone else left the plane. There were already hundreds gathered before Arch of Triumph, the legendary gates of the city; though it would have been faster to land inside, it was customary to enter Mistral through the arch when attending the festivals, owing back to its earliest days. The arch towered high, decorated in sculptures and engravings featuring thousands of faces and figures—maybe tens of thousands. Thought the opening itself was relatively small, the structure itself was at least a hundred meters tall, nearly twice as wide, and a quarter-kilometer long, expanded by generation after generation of Mistral's monarchs.

Immediately above the small entrance rested a simple looking plaque, the words on it long since faded away even though the message was clear. I turned my Clairvoyance upon it regardless and translated the revealed words carefully.

Many have stood before us;

Go now and look for them.

I couldn't help but laugh at that, smiling at the audacity of the words—before pausing, lifting my gaze yet higher. I hadn't noticed with my normal eyesight, but the sharpened clarity my skill bestowed showed me clearly.

"Mom, why are there soldiers on top of the wall?" I asked with a frown, causing her to stop and look at me. She followed my gaze, tracking upwards to the top of the arch, frowned for a moment, and then scowled, probably improving her own eyes somehow.

"Damn it," She grumbled. "Just…let's just get inside, okay? There are a thousand people out here, it's—"

But I'd already seen it—in fact, I'd probably noticed it first, since I'd already been looking. And so I crouched near to the ground, made sure I had a tight grip on Gou, and jumped. I put all my strength into it, multiplied many times over my Jumping skill and a quick call to Levant, and was rising into the air by the time my mother spoke.

Oops, I thought when I heard her words, a snarled curse following on their heels. But since I was already up hear and it would have been both embarrassing and hard to explain if I suddenly changed directions, I kept going until I was over the top of the arch, landing with one foot on what seemed like some sort of portable guardrail. The darkly uniformed figures on top reacted immediately, weapons drawn in an instant and poised to attack—

"—Stop." A calm, cold voice said, halting everyone. I hopped down from the guard rail as the uniformed men parted, revealing a woman seated in the midst of them. Even with hair white with age and a face that was leathery and wrinkled, her eyes remained as I remembered them, an almost shockingly bright blue. She was small, relatively speaking; about five-three, five-four, but she had enough presence that I'd seen her in the middle of a crowd of taller men and women.

Granted, much of that presence was in the massive, two-meter-and-change halberd she rested casually against a shoulder.

For a moment, she looked the way I always saw her in pictures, expression remote, eyes at once alert and distant. She looked fearless and deadly, uncaring whether she was attacked or fled from—there was a simple confidence to her that was so immense and yet so basic that you just accepted that she was one lethal little lady.

And then she smiled at me, something unlike the smiles she gave for cameras and addresses—something warm that light up her face and made her seem like a lethal little lady who was also a kind old grandmother.

"Jaune," She said happily, opening her arms. "I'm surprised to see you! It's been too long."

"Grandma," I reaching out to hug her fiercely.

"What brings you to Mistral?" She asked unworriedly, releasing me. "Does your mother know you're here?"

"Uh, yeah; she's down there," I said, turning to peer over the edge. There didn't seem to have been much reaction to my jump—not that I expected one from a group of people here to see Hunter's fight—but I was surprised to find a small circle cleared around her as she stared up at me. But was it fear, awe, or…no, did they…? "I think she's mad at me now though. I don't think I was supposed to talk to you."

"Mm," Jeanne the Halberd smiled, resting her elbows on the railing and cupping her chin with her hands. "Perhaps not. Really, she gets worked up over the smallest things…have you been planning to visit long?"

I scratched my head with an embarrassed smile, guessing what she was really asking and saying nothing even though it made no difference.

"No matter," She continued after a moment, voice bright and cheerful. "I'm sure her letter just got lost in the mail. It happens. Shall we go talk to her?"

"Um, ma'am," One of the men in uniform interrupted. "We—"

"Fuck off, Pech," She said in exactly the same tone. "I'm too fucking old for this bullshit, anyway. Come along now, Jaune."

She adjusted her halberd and leapt over the railing. I made to follow but paused for a minute to look back.

"Sorry," I told the man. "She does that sometimes."

And then I followed my grandmother down to the ground below.

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