The next day’s morning sunlight peeked through the curtains of her one-room abode, bathing half of Yang’s face in warmth and gently rousing her. Her eyes fluttered open. She slipped out from under the covers, panicking for a second, until memories of the past days’ events came back to her. This was the first time in forever that she’d been away from the Branwen Camp for longer than a day. Mentally, she still had yet to adjust to her new situation. That was okay, though. She assumed she would with time.

Yang yawned, sitting on the side of the bed and staring at the hardwood floor beneath her feet. It was sturdy and polished; much more refined than any tent encampment she had ever set up with the tribe. The innkeeper provided a spare set of clothes the night before, already pressed and cleaned, that she could don when she felt like coming down for her complimentary breakfast. It hung neatly in the closet. Pale yellow walls added a soothing effect and made the room feel a little larger than it was in reality. Was this the kind of comfort established villages were accustomed to? If so, she finally understood not only what the appeal was, but also the kind of peace that she used to help destroy without a second thought.

Deciding to take advantage of the ability to slow down for a change, she stood, stretched, and made her way to the single window near the headboard of her bed. Patch was quiet. Still sleeping, she figured. Aside from a few worker bees who were already up bright and early, she saw only the gentle sway of trees and grass outside her door, and the tops of buildings staring back at her. Her first morning in Patch was peaceful, and something about it made her happy she was here to see it. Her body pinged with restless energy, so she turned and went to open the closet door.

In under thirty seconds, she was changed into her new clothes. A tall mirror hanging from the front door was available to observe how she looked. In all honesty, she wasn’t a huge fan. The drab outfit was slightly baggy, with frilled edges on the sleeves of her top and the ends of the leggings. Granted, she did feel pretty comfortable. Seeing no point in wasting anymore time, she went into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Several items awaited Yang on the counter. Two neatly folded handcloths, a few creams and oils, and a basin that she could fill with water from the sink. Yang scrubbed her face clean, brushed her teeth, and got her wild hair in order. Of course, she was only able to tame everything but the single cowlick that refused to ever bend to her hairbrush’s will. When she was finished, she left and descended the stairs, finding a couple of families already seated and tearing into a buffet that smelled delicious and made her mouth water. She was more than happy to join them.

“How are you feeling this morning, young lady?” the woman who ran the place shouted, hoisting a stack of emptied pots and pans up and moving them away from the row of buffet options.

Yang grabbed a plate and fought to maintain a smile. “Great,” she said.

“Your bed comfy? Everything going well so far?”

“Yeah,” Yang said. “The bed’s perfect. Actually, I’ve never stayed in a place like this before.”

“Well, we’re happy to be your first experience! Will ya be stayin’ another night?”

“I don’t know yet. The rates here seem pretty reasonable, but I do want to get going eventually.”

“Where to? You seem like a busy woman, and a tough one at that. Noticed you came in here all suited up like a regular Huntress.”

Yang stopped halfway through ladling a steaming spoonful of some kind of porridge onto her plate. “A Huntress?”

“Yeah! Y’know, from one of the academies. Are you here on business?”

“Oh, no,” Yang said, holding her free hand up in denial. “I’m just passing through. I’m not a Huntress.”

“Well, you certainly seem to know your way around a fight. I can tell by the way you carry yourself, missy.”

Yang smiled nervously, running a hand through her hair. “I guess you could say that. Anyway, thanks again.” She finished scooping the rest of her chosen food onto the plate, then found an empty seat. Her plate was clear in the next five minutes, and she was already standing up for more.

“Quite the appetite you’ve got there,” the woman commented as she walked over to clear away another emptied pan of food.

“I’m sure I’ll work it off today,” Yang said, walking away with her next round of sustenance.

She was only a third of the way through her next full plate when a man burst into the room, eyes bulging with terror. “A Grimm!” he shouted. “A Grimm’s been spotted lurking near the west entrance to town!”

“Have ya told that Huntsman fellow?” the woman replied.

Nearby customers began to murmur worried comments amongst themselves. Suddenly, Yang had no appetite as the atmosphere of the room shifted to one of fear and confusion.

“Already checked the cabin. He and his daughter aren’t home! Must be at the school.”

“Damn,” the woman said. “That’s a bit far from here.”

“I’m gonna head over there,” the man said, dashing out of the door and away from the inn.

Yang hurried upstairs and changed into her battle gear. She had work to do.

* * *

There were three Grimm waiting for her when she arrived. One medium-sized Nevermore and two Beowolves. They must have been drawn by the emotions of some townspeople and separated from their packs.

Unfortunate for them.

A frightened group of townspeople fled in the direction of town. Glancing behind her to make sure they were safe, Yang stood, hip cocked, out in the open, her lips curled into a smirk. The Nevermore was first to strike. It flung sharp feathers in her direction. She dodged around the majority of the projectiles, letting her blood-red armor deflect the rest. Nothing forged by the Branwen Tribe’s blacksmith would be unable to handle such a simple attack. The Beowolves closed in. She strafed forward, past one of their outstretched claws. Yang whipped out her tantō and swiped it sideways, aiming for one of the Beowolves’ ribs. However, it seemed to catch onto her tactic, because it rolled away, sustaining only a shallow cut.

The second Beowolf wasn’t so lucky. Yang ducked under its follow up slash and cried out, driving her blade up into its chin. She viciously dragged the blade along the length of its neck and underbelly. Gutted like a fish, the creature collapsed onto her and slowly disintegrated. Black smoke sprayed out of it like water, tainting the air. Yang shrugged the heavy beast off, rolling away as its comrade darted for her.

It was all Yang could do to block as a flurry of strikes tore through the space between her and the Grimm. For once, she regretted not having a longer-range weapon to fall back on. This Beowolf was much too smart and large to take out the way she had its partner. She noted the considerably thick growth of exoskeletal armor around its head and torso. This thing was very old, with the combat experience to show for it. She needed to approach this from a more strategic angle to come out on top.

Another, more forceful lunge succeeded in knocking Yang back. She tumbled backward and slammed into a tree. Her injured side throbbed with pain that aura soon healed.

Damn.

She hadn’t wanted to waste her aura on healing. She needed as much as she could spare, just in case this fight ran longer than intended. After all, in battles of attrition, aura was a godsend.

The enemy snarled, staring down at her with burning red eyes. With killing intent. Yang hopped up onto her feet and leaned to one side, correctly predicting a lightning-fast swipe that ripped the tree behind her in half. Its severed top crashed to the ground with a thud. One second earlier, she realized, and that could have been her head.

Kicking the Beowolf with as much force as she could muster, she sent it back a few feet. The Grimm dug its claws in, skidding to a stop, and roared.

Meanwhile, she turned her attention to the Nevermore, grabbing a smaller throwing knife and aiming at its head. The knife embedded itself in the Grimm’s eye and passed clean through, thwarting its plan to fling deadly feathers down at the fleeing townspeople. It dissolved into nothing. She couldn’t celebrate just yet, though. The final Beowolf’s rumbling growl reminded her that she still had company.

Here it comes again.

Yang pulled out her backup blade and readied both weapons, crouching in preparation for the next assault. The monster charged her, a physical manifestation of pure bloodlust. Even with one hundred percent of her focus on its oncoming attack, she was unable to tank the force, and was sent careening backwards across the grass. The Beowolf pounced, intending to finish her off before she could recover. She lifted both legs and spun into a low stance, backflipping to avoid the next attack. Her foe landed heavily, missing her by an inch. She rushed back in as the creature was still in motion, jumping over its head and stabbing each of her blades into the fleshy parts of its heavily protected neck. It gave a garbled, guttural roar and thrust its head from side to side, only jostling the knives around and hurting itself further in the process. Yang held on tightly, flipping onto the Grimm’s back and riding it like an unruly horse. Its mad attempts to shake her proved fruitless.

“Gotcha!” She flicked both blades upward and drove them further in, effectively severing whatever tethered it to this life. Its head convulsed, then hung limply, almost completely detached from its body. Yang slid off of the back of the creature and dusted herself off.

Looking toward town, she was surprised to see a small gathering of citizens cheering and clapping for her victory. For a second, it was almost like she was back home again, and had just proven herself against an Alpha in front of the tribe. Apparently even here, she could use her strength to make a difference. That’s when her dad’s words rang in her head again. He said something about Ruby joining the local Huntsman academy. Beacon. The one her mom had attended with him. Now she understood why her sister would choose such a dangerous path. The payoff of seeing the relief and happiness on the faces of those Yang had saved was indescribably rewarding to her soul.

Hunters must feel like this all the time.

She strode through the parting crowd, smiling and nodding at either side. Now that she’d cleaned up the threat, Yang wanted to do some sightseeing before moving on to whatever was next. The allure of adventure always excited her in ways nothing else could, and she had nothing but a future full of adventure ahead of her. She would explore the world, learn more about it, and find her place in it as she went.

The walk through Patch was a pleasant one, apart from the occasional uneasy stare she received from passing townspeople. Word quickly spread of her feat with the Grimm. She knew because people began coming up to her and thanking her. Children asked for pictures with her. Seeing a still image of herself captured on their parents’ handheld technological devices was surreal. She never believed what the tribe always said until now: she really did look like a dragon in human form in her armor. Naturally, she assumed they were only speaking highly of her because she was Raven’s daughter.

That afternoon, as Yang returned from killing a couple more Grimm and headed for the stairs, she saw a man seated alone against the far wall. She ignored him, already thinking about what her next destination ought to be. He called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. Yang turned curiously toward him, tilting her head in confusion.

“Excuse me. You’re Ms. Branwen, correct?” the silvery-haired man said, his perfectly positioned black spectacles reflecting the overhead light and contrasting a pair of almond eyes.

“Who wants to know?”

He chuckled, pushing his spectacles up when they slipped.

“Where should I begin?” he asked no one in particular. “I believe you may know me as...Professor Ozpin.”