Chapter 2: Undead Parish

I rolled away from the following kick and onto my feet before being launched away by an unseen fist. What followed was a brutal onslaught of lightning fast blows raining down with reckless abandon. My armour softened the blow but did little for the pain of being brutalised. Unwilling to remain a practice dummy for her attacks, I lashed out with my own hands and tumbled to the ground with her in a shuffling grapple. Without room to extend her limbs her punches and kicks were rendered ineffective but I didn't need room to bake someone within their armour. Fighting Lord Gwyn had taught me that the flame that resides within all of us could be (for lack of a better word) ignited to disastrous levels, and all it would take was a single well placed spark. I reached out to feel for her soul and while I did find it there was no spark, no ember to turn into an inferno. Taking advantage of my confusion her knee buried itself in my armoured groin and the following crack of her elbow on my helmet left me on my side. Now the tables were firmly turned and despite her light weight I felt an unnatural force pin my body to the ground, it was so strong that I was certain I could hear the floor crack beneath me were it not for the resounding clangs of the repeated shield bashes to my helmet. While the hits were powerful they put more dents into my spirit than my head. I lashed out with a fist that clashed against the same barrier I felt on Sir Arc, but I would not be discouraged so easily. Trading blow for blow bore fruit when somewhere between the battering and bruising I felt the force weaken. In the same way she had abused my weakness I would make full use of hers.

Slamming my head into her face seemed appropriately damaging but my goal was never to beat her, she was far too powerful for me to fight unarmed. While she was dazed I slipped out from beneath her and stumbled to my feet before dashing madly for the exit. While running a plan brewed like the flame of my newly conjured Fireball, I fed it more and more of my soul until it was of such intensity that I could feel the heat burn my hand through the glove. The flame was easily the size of a cannonball and usurped the light from the ceiling to paint the floor its brilliant shades of orange. Timing was crucial to my plan and as I came near to the exit I aimed and threw the behemoth of a fireball at the side of the open archway. The molten flame exploded outwards and splintered the pillar supporting the weight of the archway before the rubble collapsed in a pseudo-barricade behind me. I doubted it would hold them for long but I also doubted they did not feel fatigue as I did.

It seems I was wrong…

A quick glance towards the billowing dust and debris of the blocked doorway revealed that the rubble was slowly being pushed aside while surrounded by a strange purple glow. I pushed through anyone in my way (ignoring the stares) and turned from hallway to hallway hoping that it would lead me to my destination

It's like The Duke's Archives all over again

Through all the twists and turns my thoughts were dominated by self-preservation and fear, fear of what awaited me should I die another time. Would this death be my final? Was there an afterlife awaiting me or naught but darkness? As evident by my unflinching pace I was unwilling to find out.

The next hallway was familiar in that it held the elevator to the Headmaster's Office, perhaps I thought I would find refuge there (he had accepted me into his school after all and to my knowledge that left him liable for damages). I rummaged through my memories on how this strange lift worked; there was no simple pressure plate to go up and down but a series of glowing buttons with strange symbols on them.

Think dammit! First click the miniature pressure plate and wait for it to come down like she did

I could hear approaching footsteps and the tired breath of the duo already but I could also hear the descending elevator,

It was simply a matter of which arrived first…

The satisfying 'ding' voiced my escape yet as I entered the stifling steel box the hurrying figure of my emerald-eyed assailant locked with mine. Without hesitation I clicked the topmost button.

It's a shame that the door closed just before I could see the way her face would contort from confusion to anger.

/

A rather uneventful ride later I was greeted with the Headmaster waiting in front of the door with a small porcelain mug steaming with some drink clasped inflexibly between his hands. I opened my mouth to voice my troubles but was interrupted by his disappointed yet calm voice.

"It seems you've caused a lot of trouble young man. And in such little time too"

"I had no choice but to destroy that archway; if you had better control over your volatile students then this would never have happened"

"Oh? Then do tell me how my 'volatile students' forced your hand in attempting to take the life of a downed opponent?"

"That…" he had me there. I had shouted my excuses to his accomplice while in a fit of rage and while I still stood by my words I no longer had the energy to add necessary confidence to my words.

"Nothing to say? I had high hopes for you; in fact I still do hope you will remain at Beacon and enhance your skill…only you will have to go through a little questioning first" I raised an invisible eyebrow at his words.

"Questioning?"

"Nothing too serious I assure you, you'll only be contained for a while

"You wish to imprison me"

"No! Nothing of the sort, you'll only be kept in separate from the rest of the school for a few days while we ask you some simple questions"

"Oh! I understand. You do not wish to imprison me, of course not. You wish to isolate me…" My voice took on a dangerous edge as the elevator behind me opened to the sound of clicking heels. I turned to see the flushed face of Ms Goodwitch clutching her riding crop fiercely.

"I do hope you'll come quietly, it would not end well if you caused any more damage than you already have" My hand drifted to the staff on my back that was no longer there.

I must have left it in the equipment room

My intentions made clear, Ozpin nodded absently to his partner behind me followed by the sound of her cracking her crop. I felt the tug of gravity lessen as I was raised and held in the air like a toy doll, I could move not even a finger against its oppressive hold.

"Don't worry Mr Oscar; if you're on your best behaviour then we will not hold you for long"

"Where are you taking me?" I managed to spit out through gritted teeth.

"Oh no, for the remainder of your time here I'll be asking you the questions. How about one I've been dying to know, tell me about your magic"

/

"And's that's how the world came to be"

"…So let me check if I'm understanding this correctly, you come from a place where dragons ruled until these 'Lords of Cinder' defeated them and ushered in a new age?"

"Yes" He gave a long exasperated sigh, he did not believe a word of what I said (that much was evident). He shot me a hard stare and continued when I gave only restricted shrug in response.

"I understand if you wish to hide your past but if you keep feeding me these ridiculous stories I'll have no choice but to keep you here for another week"

Has it already been a week? I've forgotten what time means anymore, the seconds devolve into days faster than I care to keep track of them…

"I have told you nothing but the truth"

"Well unless you start telling me something, anything credible then we will get nowhere" It was hard to hear some of his words through the glass of my cell (a strange choice of material) and the reverberations through my helm did little to help the matter.

"I don't believe I'll be going anywhere soon 'Headmaster', or should I simply call you for what you are?"

"And what would that be?" He seemed amused.

"A sorcerer" He was no longer amused. I pressed my advantage, "I know of your secret, any person with enough magical potential can sense it in others and while I am a knight by trade I have no doubt even a novice to the ways of magic would be able to see your vast power, why it might even rival Master Logan's magical prowess"

"…"

"Nothing to say? I had such high hopes for you Ozpin" My petty act of vengeance was short-lived however for as I saw his eyes harden I knew I had already sealed my fate.

"Well this makes things far simpler, I did not wish to resort to such measures but you've left me little choice in the matter" The door through which I entered the glass prison opened with a harsh ring as he stepped into the room bringing with him a clanking trolley that was covered by a stretch of cloth. He was only a body away when he stopped and revealed the numerous instruments resting neatly on the reflective surface, they looked like medical implements (it may even have been the case at one point) but I knew better and I also now knew why I had been taken so far underground for my 'questioning'. His hand moved to hover indecisively over the many tools before thinking better of it and turning back to face me.

"Looking back on it now I don't know why I hadn't ask this of you, but since you're in no position to refuse I guess this is as good a time as any to give a face to your name" I really was not in any position to do more than squirm beneath the chains holding me firmly onto the steel seat which in turn was part of the floor beneath me, were it not for that witch's spell I would never have been put into such a compromising position.

He reached over to try and confiscate my helmet but between my struggling and the many straps holding it down it took long enough to leave him in a less forgiving mood afterwards. He finally managed to remove my helmet slowly but dropped it onto my lap after he saw my hideously charred and warped flesh, or perhaps it was the hollow pits of my eyes that frightened him.

"Who…what are you?"

What was I?

My arms strained against the bindings at his words.

"I am undead" I tugged harder until I could hear the whine of steel bending to my will "Descendant of the Furtive Pygmy" Using the Pyromancy flame I heated my shackles until they glowed yellow with warmth. "Possessor of the Dark Soul"

"A sorcerer, a pyromancer, and a knight of Astora"

"Slayer of beasts" The first chain snapped

"Of men" the second chain followed.

"And" Standing to my full height with burning flame readied to break through all that would stand in my way beginning with this arrogant fop.

"Of Gods…"

Ok…I understand Beacon does not have a kinky sex dungeon in canon but think about it. Someone manages to break into beacon and find the location of the relic, Ozpin can't turn him over to the local authorities because then the secret will be uncovered. He can't give him to Ironwood because he obviously doesn't trust him as much as someone like Qrow and since this suspicious character has no credentials everyone will start to ask questions (potentially taking away the only other person Ozpin has seen use magic). So of course he'll just take matters into his own hands, like he always does. Would he torture someone to get information? I don't know the guy's hundreds (if not thousands) of years old, you don't think he's dabbled in less than respectable trades over that time (or possessed someone who had).

I also apologise for the short length of this chapter (rest assured that this will be more of an exception than the norm) but I thought it would be better to end it here and continue it next chapter. You also may have noticed that the chapter starts again with a location from Dark Souls, this will be a running theme throughout the story and while this one doesn't really suit the atmosphere of the chapter the other chapters will be more appropriately titled.