Good news! I'm not dead! Good lord, does life love to throw curve-balls at me! This took me too long to get out! Now, to those who read the first chapter of this, I made some changes to the first chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and like last time, I appreciate any criticism you can give me!
Wetzlar shot up in his bed, his breathing was rapid and his heart beat out of his chest. As his breathing slowed down he looked out of the window that his bed was situated in front of and saw the sun as it peaked over the horizon.
He looked around his room before he stood up and prepared himself for the day ahead of him. As he threw on his clothes rather quickly, he stopped for a moment when he reached for his cloth. The piece of fabric, if one were to look at it in passing, would just see it as a headband and nothing more. If one were to look at it closer, however, they could note the raggedness of the edges, as if it was a piece torn from something larger than itself. He eyed it for some time, appreciating the fact that he still had it with him, that he still had this piece of his past life. That, and his tattoo, were the two things that would hopefully be with him for the rest of his life.
As he pushed his hair back, donned it and pulled it tight, he looked out the window in the direction of the morning sun. He wondered, just for a second, what his comrades would have thought of the sun today. He tried to think of something unfunny, of one of the many "jokes" that Casimir would have told, or of the way that Rook would greet the sun in that strange, almost ritual-like manner that he always did in the mornings.
He heard a knock on his door, and when he answered it he was greeted by the girls of team RWBY, who were, just like Ruby had promised him the night before, most likely about to take him to meet the professors of this academy that he called home for now. They looked ready for classes, with their uniforms clean and pressed. He noticed that the only two who actively paid attention to him were Yang and Ruby, the two supposed sisters.
"Hey." He greeted, shutting the door behind him as he walked out into the hallway.
"So are you ready to meet... Hey, you're eyes are red. Are you okay?" Ruby asked.
He blinked then rubbed his eyes. He knew what she was talking about. He didn't want to share it with them though.
"Yeah. Fine." He answered.
"Are you sure? We can-" Ruby started, but Wetzlar held up his hand to cut her off.
"I'm fine." He reaffirmed, his voice stern.
"If you say so." She replied.
He knew what she was talking about, had even heard the defeat in her voice as she backed down. He'd woken up multiple times before like that, his eyes red and wet. He wasn't one to open up, though. He'll deal with it the way he normally did, but he'd have to get some time away from this place.
"So you ready to meet the teachers?" Yang interjected.
"Better now than later, since I'm here for the long haul." He replied.
He shrugged to emphasize it, and that somehow drew the attention of the one with white hair. He only remembered her as the one who got pulled out from that pile of pillows, but also as the one that didn't really interact that much with him during dinner last night.
"You could maybe stand to be a little more excited." Weiss stated, her tone one of annoyance.
"Never been much of a morning person. I'll be excited in, let's say, two more hours." He replied.
He yawned and stretched before composing himself, then walked toward the stairs. He turned and looked at the four girls expectantly.
"So are we going?"
Yang, Ruby, and Blake looked at each other and nodded, then followed suit. Weiss, with a shake of her head, followed along. Just how could her teammates accept this guy so easily? She knew what he had been through. Ruby had made sure that JNPR and the rest of her team knew, since from what Weiss could gather she wanted this guy to feel like he wasn't some sort of outcast.
She could sympathise with that, even if she would never admit it.
They walked out of the dorms and onto the path that led to the campus grounds, and as Wetzlar watched the throng of students that they had joined as they journeyed to their respective classes, he heard Ruby speak up.
"So we're going to head to Professor Oobleck's class first. He teaches history." She explained.
"Anything I should know about him?" Wetzlar asked.
"Nothing you won't pick up easy enough." Yang answered.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll see when we get there."
Ozpin sipped his drink as he stared at the terminal screen. The dim light of the screen illuminated his features slightly, the dark circles under his eyes apparent in the poorly-lit office. He once again drew himself from his drink to the records before him. It had taken him a lot of effort to get these, and he was sure that the headmaster of Haven was confused, but he did not inquire further and simply sent the documents over. According to him, they were just archived for the purpose of archival, but other than that they were rarely, if ever studied. As Ozpin pored over the lists and lists of scanned papers, he finally found something.
Wetzlar Traurig, formerly of the Briar Glen Swords Company, transferred into leading role of Platoon Two, Battalion Four of the Mistral Special Detachment Regiment after the Battle of Shion Fields. Awarded Silver Flame for gallant heroism, valor and brotherhood above and beyond the call of duty during the Battle of Windpath. Presumed missing in action during the Third Invasion of Vale.
He read on. The document, which was more than a simple list of names, and a few stood out to him amongst the scanned, yellowed paper.
Casimir Z'loto and... Martis Nikos?
He knew those names, albeit he knew more about the former than the latter, but the latter's surname most certainly intrigued him.
He would have to look into this further when his time permitted it, for as the sun peeked into his office he knew that it was time for him to get some rest.
The sound of someone frantically moving within the room before them could easily be heard, as the doors, which were left open, did little to muffle the sound. Wetzlar watched as students simply filed into the classroom, not even caring what it was that made that sound. He stood still as students passed by him, some giving him a quizzical look before entering, while others didn't even give him the time of day as they passed by him, absorbed in their scrolls.
Team RWBY joined the throng, much to Wetzlar's surprise. But when Ruby peeked out of the doorway and motioned for him to follow, he did so, even if it was against his better judgement. As he walked in, he looked around and noticed the blur that moved from left to right at the front of the classroom. The way that the other students simply dismissed it and went to sit with their friends made it clear to him that this must have been their professor.
When he got to his seat, he felt very out of place. Most of it had to do with how the students around him that were not team RWBY looked at him with confusion and suspicion. It made sense to him, since he knew that he did not look like a student.
It must have been more than that, though. He had been the talk of the place for the last few days, so seeing him in the flesh must have been a surprise for the ones who didn't see his not-so-spectacular entrance.
The blur came to a stop as the bell rang and the doors behind to the classroom closed, and what had once been a blur was now who Wetzlar had expected; a man with green hair who definitely screamed scholar, even with how disheveled he looked. He watched as the man pushed his glasses up and looked around the room before he began to speak.
"Good morning students! I hope that you all are prepared for today's class for we have a very proportionate amount of material to go over! But before we begin I'd like to know who it is that's joining us today!" He said.
Wetzlar blinked in confusion at what the man had said. He talked so quickly that he didn't know how to react. A silence fell over the classroom as Wetzlar looked around, then pointed at himself in confusion.
"You mean me?" He asked.
"Who else would I be talking to? Would you like to introduce yourself?" The Doctor asked.
"Uhh..."
He hesitated as he looked about the room once more and noticed that all eyes were upon him.
"Come now! You've no reason to be shy!" Oobleck goaded.
"I'm, uh, Wetzlar Traurig. I'm the guy who, uh, was dying in front of your school a week ago. I got invited to sit in on one of these classes. Don't mind me, I'll keep quiet." Wetzlar said.
He put on an embarrassed smile and waved weakly, but no one waved back at him, save for a few of the friendlier students.
"It's good to finally meet you Wetzlar! I'm Bartholomew Oobleck, but you may call me Doctor Oobleck for now."
Without even skipping a beat, the man began with his lecture.
"Now students, in the year six BT, that means before Vytal, Mister Traurig, Mantle and Vale had reached somewhat of a stalemate and Vacuo had long since been considered a lost cause to all but Mantle, who, despite their shortcomings, were able to keep a foothold against their opponents. Around this time, Mantle set out to subjugate the northernmost provinces of Mistral."
Wetzlar blinked and watched as the man sped from one end of the classroom to the other. He tried to make sense of what the man had just fired off, but the speed in which he had spoken had allowed him to make out three words: Mantle, Mistral, and subjugate.
Out of instinct he raised his hand.
"Ah, Mister Traurig! I'm surprised to see one so eager at this hour! So, what tactic did Mantle utilize during the initial invasion of Mistral that proved rather effective?" Oobleck asked.
"They'd attack fast and overwhelm you with their firepower. Then they'd stick people at whatever they captured and wait for reinforcements, and most of the time anything heavily fortified had some sort of weapon emplacement. It made it hard to retake places in an open battle. Their shock troops were usually at the forefront of an assault and you didn't want to get surrounded by them. If you did, you'd best pray that they let you surrender." Wetzlar answered.
"Very good Mister Traurig! I recall Headmaster Ozpin telling my associates and I of your situation and I'm relieved to see that he wasn't playing a joke on us!"
A murmur made it's way around the room as students looked at Wetzlar in surprise. The way that they looked at him, the way that they talked under their breath, in hushed tones, got on his nerves. He kept a cool head, though. He sat stock still, his gaze concentrated on the table upon which he rested his elbows. After a while the murmurs stopped and class resumed. As Oobleck went back to his lecture, Wetzlar let out a sigh of relief. He felt someone's gaze on him and he looked around, then his eyes met Ruby's.
She bore a look of concern, but he didn't know why. Their murmurs didn't get to him. For some reason, he didn't like seeing her like that. Maybe it was the way that she tried to help him fit in here, or that she, like her sister, had been the first to act when he was found.
"They got problems with me being here then it's their problem. It'd be real boring just sitting up in that room all day." He said.
"I wouldn't push it. If Ozpin thinks you're stirring up trouble he'd definitely get involved." Blake replied, having heard him.
"I won't make a big fuss or cause any trouble. Like I said: it'd be boring up in that room the whole day." He replied.
He returned his attention to the lesson, and as he listened to Oobleck drone on and on about the Animus Front, as it was called now. He remembered it as just "The Front". though. He thought back to the night before and how even though he had tried to sleep, it didn't come until the early hours of the morning. He began to doze off, his chin rested in his hand.
Within the halls of the estate of Lord Nikos, a pair of teenaged boys watched from the windows as the train of villagers from Briar Glen left their homes. Many of them shared wagons and carriages, but many more were left to walk and could only take what they could carry. The two boys looked at each other. One of them, the one with brown hair, shook his head, the scowl that graced his lips readily apparent in the dim light of the lanterns that hung upon the walls.
"We shouldn't have to leave," He said, his voice low and sullen.
He looked away from the window, for he didn't want to see his own family trudge along, their farm ponies now pulling their wagon.
"You don't think I know that, Wetzlar? Do you think I want to leave? We're lucky we were told at all that Vale was coming! We're too far from the Trade Route, and if it weren't for the messenger from Windpath..." The other boy responded.
This one ran a hand through his bright-red hair, his face a contortion of sadness and anger. They'd heard the stories from the refugees that had passed through, of men in armor, with firearms within their blades. They were followed by battalions of soldiers, all armed with rifles, ones that held more than one shot, but still only had one barrel, and large guns, much more sophisticated than the cannons Lord Nikos had lining his battlements, on wheels. The ones who had been quick told tales of these men, that they were told that they were members of the Army of Mantle and that they were preparing for an invasion from Vale, that they should leave as soon as they could, lest they face the wrath of that Kingdom. They didn't stay in Briar Glen long, for many of them were headed to the Kingdom proper, where the council and the king had supposedly been preparing the army for assistance.
A voice echoed down the hall and drew the two from their conversation. The voice was one of an older man, and the commanding tone in his voice caused the two to listen with rapt attention.
"Wetzlar! Martis! We've loaded the wagons! Do you want to be left behind?" The man called.
A silence was shared between the two before Martis spoke up.
"We'll be there shortly, Father!" He said, a slight waver in his voice.
The two looked at each other and nodded, then made to do as he had ordered.
The sound of the bell ringing woke Wetzlar, who shot up in surprise. He reached behind him, over his right shoulder for something but when he found nothing there, he relaxed. He remembered. They had confiscated his weaponry when they found him dying in the middle of the entranceway to their school. What he had done had been caught by many a soul however, and he felt someone tap his shoulder. He didn't have to deduct who it must have been, but he turned around anyway. It was the polite thing to do after all.
"Bad dream?" Yang asked.
He made out the slight mocking tone she carried but shrugged it off.
"I'd call it bad. Still not as bad as the one involving a beowolf, a jar of butter and a stuffed elk though." He answered.
She smirked at his poor attempt at humor, and slapped him on the back in appreciation hard enough to make him stumble forward slightly. She was strong, he'd give her that.
"You're lucky Yatsuhashi was seated in front of you or Oobleck would've known you'd fallen asleep." Weiss scolded.
"And why am I lucky?" He asked.
His voice dripped with sarcasm and it noticeably angered the Heiress, as she scowled at him and crossed her arms and looked away, it being made quite apparent that he had annoyed her.
"You're lucky that I'm eager to learn from you, Mister Traurig, or otherwise I'd most likely assign you a fifty-page essay on the importance of the Mistral Trade Route to the Animus Front." Oobleck answered, his tone just as rapid as it had been before.
The Young Man jumped in surprise, and as he tensed up once more and turned to face the teacher he was surprised at the man's expression. The man looked to not be phased by him in the slightest.
"Now now, Mister Traurig. None of us mean to harm you here." Oobleck assured.
"Yeah. Sorry." Wetzlar replied.
He looked between the girls and the Doctor. Oobleck had noted the way his posture relaxed when they assured him that he would come to no harm. He would have to speak to Ozpin about this.
"Still not used to this place." Wetzlar answered.
He shook his head in shame at his actions.
"Quite understandable, Mister Traurig. Over the next few weeks we shall be covering the Animus Front in vivid detail and I was wondering if you took part in it. From how you spoke of the tactics that Mantle used you must have seen them in action."
Wetzlar nodded in response.
"Yeah. Fought with em' for a while. I was a First Lieutenant within the Special Detachment Regiment."
"Excellent, simply excellent! Well, Mister Traurig if I may be so bold to ask: would you be willing to speak of your experiences? One such as yourself, what with your... surprising placement within their forces."
Wetzlar looked down at the ground as he weighed Doctor Oobleck's request. He thought of his comrades, wondered in anyone knew their names, knew anything about what they did.
He thought of Casimir, of Rook, of the many others of the Special Detachment, and finally of Martis. He knew of their accomplishments, of their stories and their struggles, but did anyone else? Maybe a historian knew, and that would have been enough for all of them, he was sure of that.
He brought his eyes to team RWBY, who in turn nodded, save for Weiss, who still chose not to meet his gaze. He looked back at Oobleck.
"I talk about it in detail. No cutting things out and no censoring myself, aside from my blue language. Sound fine to you?" He answered.
Oobleck nodded in response, then extended his hand, which Wetzlar gladly met, and as the two shook hands, Wetzlar felt relieved. Relieved that hopefully he would not have to be stuck in that room all day.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked to see who it was. Ruby looked up at him as she pointed at her wrist in a gesture he knew all too well.
"Doctor, we can talk later. I'm in a bit of a hurry." He explained.
Oobleck looked first at Wetzlar, then at team RWBY, then once again at Wetzlar. When he returned his gaze back to Wetzlar he looked to have understood what he had meant. He waved goodbye to Oobleck as he left the classroom behind with the girls, who were intent on heading to their next class.
"...And then, after weeks of combing the countryside I discovered the beast's lair! The monster had holed itself within the deepest of it caverns, and so I sought to draw it out into a more strategic field..." The man droned.
Wetzlar looked at the professor once more. He noted how the man was rather portly, but that wasn't something he focused on. The man was a professor here so he would show him the same respect he would anyone else. He looked around the classroom and noted that many students, Ruby and Blake included, shared his feeling of boredom. This man was smart, he had to be to teach at a place like this, but why did he have to pad out these tales? The lesson at the end is the most important part. He eyed that bust on the professor's desk once more and cringed. Just what kind of person keeps a bust of themselves within their classroom?
For the life of him, he just couldn't bear listening to the man's stories any more. After two hours he had begun to grow anxious for the class to end. He leaned closer to Blake, who appeared enraptured in the book she had brought with her, having done a rather sneaky tactic of hiding the book she read within her textbook.
"When's the class over again?" He whispered.
His question drew her back to reality, and she tore herself away from whatever story she read to look at him.
"It should be over soon." She replied.
With that she drew herself back to her book and left Wetzlar to ponder on the man's story. He'd not been keeping rapt attention like some, but he got the gist of it if he were questioned on it.
"As the beast fell to the ground, I knew I had been victorious. Does anyone understand the lesson here?" Port asked.
He scanned the room and focused on Weiss, whose hand was the only one raised.
"Miss Schee: what do you suppose the lesson of this story is?" He asked.
The Heiress paused to clear her throat and then spoke, her voice loud and her tone confident.
"The lesson is that one should always be careful of their surroundings." She answered, her head held high.
"Correct, Miss Schnee! When I spoke of the way the Grimm used it's tail to knock stalactites and almost end the life of your favorite professor! Grimm, the more they age and mature, develop something akin to an intelligence, albeit a cunning, devious and sadistic one. This specific creature must have been almost a century old if I had to go off of what the villagers told me!"
The ringing of the bell signaled the end of class, and as the students filed out to their next class, Port spoke at them.
"Enjoy your afternoon, students! Team RWBY, can you and your friend stay for a moment? I wish to have a word with you all." He stated.
RWBY looked at each other in worry, while Wetzlar looked at them in confusion. They descended the path down to Port's desk, a handful of other students watching for a moment before they too left the classroom.
Port eyed the group, keeping silent until the last of the students filed out. The silence that he showed now was unnerving to the team, considering the professor's usual disposition.
"Well Mister Traurig, it's a pleasure to finally get to meet you!" The Professor said.
"It's a, uh," Wetzlar started.
He looked at Yang with concern, but she simply shrugged in response.
"A pleasure to meet you too, Sir." He finished.
The two shook hands, and Wetzlar noted the professor's rather firm grip. That, along with the callouses and roughness of his hand was something that told Wetzlar that this man had experience.
"Doctor Oobleck told me that you were in the company of Team RWBY, so I knew you were going to be joining us today. It's not every day one gets to meet someone like you!"
"What? A time traveler?" Wetzlar responded.
"Well... yes. Along with that though, you're someone who must have seen first-hand how grimm acted during the Great War!"
"Kind of. We'd deal with them sometimes but it wasn't that common for us. Well, for me at the beginning, we mostly maintained structures for a while and so we'd sometimes run into a beowolf or a pack of them holed up in a crumbling fort or somesuch, but we usually killed them easily enough. As far as I know they've always acted the same. The ones who lived in those places for a while knew them better than us but that's a given."
"Hmm..."
Port looked lost in thought as he twisted one of the ends of his moustache, his gaze fixed upon the floor. Wetzlar looked back at the others, who looked at him, with Yang's eyes moving to the door occasionally, as if to tell him something.
"Sir, sorry but we're in a bit of a hurry." He explained.
"Oh, I understand! You all run along now!"
The team turned to leave, and Wetzlar shook hands with Port, the two exchanging goodbyes before he followed them out the door.
Wetzlar watched the two in the ring from the sidelines. The two people fought well, for students if he had to guess, but he saw openings that could have been exploited, so many chances to get the upper hand! He watched as one of them, a boy somewhat younger than himself if he had to guess, try to dodge his opponent's strike, only for his footwork to fall short and himself be thrown quite far back by the force of the swing.
It was the armor he wore. The extra weight must have been what threw him off, and for some reason the boy didn't doff the steel, or at least what Wetzlar must have thought was steel, for more maneuverability. He had aura. He didn't need that heavy of armor! If he was that afraid of an attack he could wear a mail shirt. That's what Wetzlar did.
With another landed blow, the fight was over. Glynda, or "Professor Goodwitch", as she was to be called in front of students, walked into the ring. He watched her as she adjusted her glasses and looked once more at the large scroll she held, before looking between the two combatants.
"Mister Bronzewing, you must remember to keep your guard up. And I have to recommend once more that you remove that armor, it's just too heavy for you." She advised.
The student nodded, his head held low. The other one on the other hand looked as if she knew that she would have won without even the slightest effort.
"Miss Schnee, I must remind you not to overexert yourself. I know that you've been working to fix that, and I recommend that you continue with your regimen."
Weiss nodded, her thin smirk only lowering slightly at professor Goodwitch's recommendation. The two descended the sets of stairs that led back to where the other students sat at and rejoined their respective teams, with Team RWBY accepting Weiss with compliments and praise, while Dove was met with encouragement from two of his teammates, while one of them, a broad-shouldered lad with bird of some sort emblazoned upon his breastplate, rolled his eyes before crossing his arms and glaring at the Heiress.
When Weiss returned to Team RWBY's seating and to the cheers and compliments from her team and the members of JNPR, Wetzlar watched as Glynda tapped at her scroll once more. She was nice, that was definitely something that he could say about her. He had an understanding of how the student body respected and feared her, with more of it falling into the latter than the former. He could kind of understand, what with her almost-eternally stern expression and serious demeanor almost reminding him of one of his former comrades.
A "dragon woman", as his father would have described her, most likely.
"Now, we have time for one more bout. Would anyone like to volunteer?" She asked as her gaze shifted from her scroll to her students.
More than a few hands shot up, and in but a moment the professor had her candidates. She looked down at her scroll once more and tapped upon it once more.
"Mister Arc, you will be facing Mister Winchester." She explained.
The two she mentioned rose from their seats and ascended the stairs to the ring, where they stood facing each other, a fair distance between them. Wetzlar saw the smirk on this Winchester's face, and to him it spoke of cockiness, of arrogance, of the kind of man that knew he would win this bout without even breaking a sweat.
And he was right to believe that about himself. The fight, if it could even be called that, was something of a spectacle that, by the end, made Wetzlar's jaw drop in amazement. Just how could Jaune have made it into this place? The poor excuse of an offense that he had made him cringe in embarrassment for even having witnessed it. The other one, that Winchester, wasn't much better. His swings were too choreographed, and his defense was too poor. That creative fighting he'd used on Jaune made up for it somewhat in his eyes, but still wasn't enough to redeem the boy. He'd had lost count of the amount of openings that he had noticed in his defense, and was surprised that Jaune seemed to simply not notice them.
He shook his head at both of their performances. If this was what he had to think, just what would Glynda think? That kind of dreadful performance would have ended with him being forced to run about the estate with at least ten stone worth of rocks on his back for an hour.
"Mister Arc, it's been weeks now. Please try to refer to your scroll during combat! Gauging your aura will help you to decide when it is appropriate to attack or when it is better to move to a more... defensive strategy." She commented.
Wetzlar watched as Jaune pulled out something and looked at it. It must have been one of those scroll things like he had.
"We wouldn't want you to be gobbled up by a beowolf, now would we?"
He watched as Winchester mumbled something, a grimace on his face before shouldering his weapon and exiting the ring. He had a feeling about him, that kind of feeling he got when he knew someone wasn't worth trying to be friendly toward.
The tone that signaled the end of a class sounded and the students once again left the classroom. At the end of it all, Wetzlar had told RWBY that he could make it back to the dorms on his own. Glynda, who had easily noticed him amidst the other students, stood in the ring still, her gaze fixated on him.
"Did you enjoy the lesson, Wetzlar?" She asked.
"I liked seeing something that I get, that I understand, but I still wish I could get some practice in." He answered.
He walked over from his place at the edge of the lecture area to the edge of ring, a part of the architecture that had been built up, to where it came up to Wetzlar's waist. Glynda's gaze following him the whole way there. He looked at her and then at the ring, then at her again before he rested his elbows on it.
"I could understand why you would want practice, but I also think you could do with a fair amount of rest." She replied.
"And I think I could do with a fair amount of practice."
"You were stabbed in the stomach. There was an exit wound in your back. It went all the way through you."
"I've been stabbed before."
"In your time, it would have been a mortal wound."
"I know."
Glynda could tell that he was conflicted about this. She could see it in his expression, the way he carried himself as he mulled over something in his head.
"I don't know how I can repay you for what you all did for me. Honestly, I don't know what I could think to do, maybe work here, or try to make something of myself elsewhere, but I feel like I should repay you all, and there isn't any way you'll be able to do to stop me, even if you all try to say that it was nothing, or try to wave it off as charity. In my time, we repaid any and all debts owed to someone." He said with a smirk.
The smirk that graced his features vanished though, just as quickly as it had came, and was replaced with a stern expression.
"But I want to know, though: Where's my sword? I'd really like to see it again. It's really important to me."
Glynda walked over to the side of the ring, toward another set of stairs that led to a hallway. She beckoned for Wetzlar to follow, and he did as she ordered. He followed close behind her. He could feel the tension in the air as the two made their way to, if he had to trust Glynda, the place they kept his most prized possession.
"A lot of them are pretty skilled. I've got to commend that Weiss girl's swordsmanship." He said, in an attempt to break the silence.
"Many of them are from combat schools that train them from a young age to become huntsmen and huntresses." She replied, her stride not breaking for even a second.
"How young are we talking here? I started training when I was six."
"Roughly around that same age. Some of them start younger than that."
He chuckled at her response. Not because he found it funny, but because he could relate to that.
"Sure doesn't show in some of them. That one who fought Weiss surely didn't know what he was doing. That armor was too heavy for him, he should ditch it and go for something lighter, something that could suit his agility more, like leather or a mail shirt, off the top of my head."
"The entirety of Team Cardinal are troublemakers and I don't know how they made it in, but they at least have an understanding of their weaknesses. Mister Bronzewing knows that armor is too heavy for him, but he believes he can learn to work in it. They'll learn when reality knocks them down a peg or two."
That stopped Wetzlar in his tracks, another chuckle escaping him. He quickly jogged up to Glynda to match her pace once more.
"Damn. Didn't think a teacher would say that about a student." He said, his smirk audible in his voice.
"I've taught here at Beacon for over a decade, Wetzlar. I've seen countless others similar to Team Cardinal, and I don't doubt that I'll see more like them."
She stopped outside a pair of doors, her turning to look at Wetzlar once more.
"This is the male armory. You'll find your sword and other belongings that were soiled in your arrival in locker two-oh-three, just wave your scroll near the black square on the locker and it will unlock for you." She stated.
"Can I practice with it a bit? I know that you're against it, but I'd just like to run through some drills again. No fighting anyone. I'll return it right after." He replied.
The look she bore spoke of slight annoyance at his request, but with a blink and a nod she answered him.
"I don't really have an answer for that. I need to make a call, so you go inspect your weapon."
He smiled at that. He opened the door, but before he went in he looked back at her. He was going to thank her, but he froze up for a moment as he looked at her. She still had that stern look that she always had, even when she was filling him in on the current state of the world, but he could see that her eyes conveyed a sense of accomplishment, like she had done something that she'd thought that she had never been able to. She knew that he was grateful. He never let her hear the end of it, as of yet.
"Uhh... what number was it?" He asked.
The question must have caught her off guard, as he noticed how she jumped, just barely at his question.
"Two-oh-three."
"Thanks."
The armory was something of, well, something that Wetzlar felt more welcome in. The rows upon rows of lockers that held weaponry of supposedly all sorts was something that he could at least wrap his head around.
It didn't take him long to reach the locker that Glynda had told him about. It was pretty far out from the lockers that were in use, which he had gathered were the ones that had a green light on it and the name of someone in the center. He found locker two-oh-three, which did say his name, and when he did as Glynda instructed him to, the locker, with a click, opened.
His heart skipped a beat.
There, within the locker, sat his gear. All of it. He thought that at least some of it would have been lost, pilfered in some manner, but it was all there. His sword, in its scabbard, hung upon a hook in the middle of the locker. His pistols, the one that was truly his in its holster, sat on a small shelf built into the side of the locker, where his uniform and armor, clean and repaired, hung below. On the floor of the locker, in as neat of a pile as whomever placed these here could achieve, sat the myriad of pouches and the somewhat larger belt pack he used to store his valuables.
He only grabbed what he knew he'd need for this, that being his sword. With a steady hand, he fastened the piece's harness to his hip where it belonged. With that familiar weight on him, he cautiously drew the sword from its scabbard. The weight felt familiar, and as he gave the blade an experimental twirl, he knew that it had not been tampered with. He touched the blade, his finger tracing up the fuller.
The blade wasn't overly complex like some of the designs that he'd noticed during that class. There wasn't any filigree or engravings along the blade, or any gold or other precious metals within it. That was not to say it was plain, either. The sword, a longsword, one that had been made for the specific style he knew oh so well, had the utmost love and care put into its creation and any warrior worth their salt could tell that with a look of the weapon's silvery, beautifully shining blade, of the glint it made in the light and the fineness of the edge. It could cleave a man in twain with little effort. Baron Nikos wasn't the kind of man to simply send his men out into the field with tools that would not hold up to the skill of the ones using them, for he had taken on one of the few legendary smiths of Mistral to work in his own armory. This sword was worth easily a king's ransom, and he would never part with it so long as he drew breath.
The cold steel welcomed him like the old friend it was, and he felt a sense of relief that he could hold the blade, feel its weight, and hopefully use it more than just this one time.
The sound of the door opening brought him back to reality, and as he turned to see the face of Glynda, her expression one of curiousity, he smiled at her and she smiled back. It wasn't much, just a slight one, more like a smirk, but he could tell it was there. He sheathed his blade once more and reached for his pistol.
As he held the gun, the clicking of Glynda's heels on the tile floor made it evident that she had approached him.
"It's a fine weapon." She said.
"A gift from Mantle to select groups of officers. It's a piece of trash compared to what I saw them using, though. It'll put down a man or a grimm like it's nothing, though, and the thing's damn near unbreakable too. With everything that it went through it shouldn't even be able to fire." He explained.
He ran his finger along the frame, his fingers feeling the pockmarks and scuffs that it had accrued in his service, the slight bend in the left wing of the winged front sight and they brought back memories. The memories weren't fond, but they came nonetheless.
He'd whipped a Valen officer with it in an attempt to take him prisoner. He'd hit him too hard and it had killed the man. He remembered the impact of the pistol against the man's skull and how he simply slumped over. He'd been inexperienced in war then, and the adrenaline and chaos of the melee they had embroiled themselves in clouded his judgement.
With a sigh he placed the pistol back in the locker. He wouldn't need it right now. He'd only need his sword, the weapon he had trained almost his entire life with.
"I spoke with the Headmaster. He told me that as long as I oversaw it, you could practice. Are you ready?"
"I'm ready." He stated.
"Then let's go." Glynda replied.
He nodded at her, then the two of them left the armory behind and returned to the arena. There were more people in it since he had left. Three other professors and two students
"Hello again, Wetzlar." Ozpin greeted, a wave accompanying it.
"Hello." He replied in kind.
Then the thought hit him. Maybe he wasn't supposed to be wielding his sword right now, and that somehow he'd gotten Glynda in trouble. He didn't think that practicing would be enough to warrant all of them here! Just how much trouble would he-
Wait. Why were team Jaune and Ruby here too?
He looked between Glynda, whose stern look gave him a sense of comfort, even when it shouldn't have, and Ozpin's blank, emotionless stare.
"Am I in trouble? Don't blame Glynda, I wanted to practice a bit and-"
Ozpin raised his hand to stop him speaking, and he did so. He watched as Ozpin took a sip from his mug before he spoke.
"You're not in trouble and neither is Professor Goodwitch, Wetzlar. I can understand wanting to get back into the swing of things, as one would say. Her and I had discussed this beforehand, but she thought you should rest more." He replied.
A wave of relief washed over him, but only for a moment as he looked once more at the two team leaders who joined them. His gaze fell on Ruby, who waved at him sheepishly, with him waving back in kind.
"Jaune and I wanted to speak with Professor Goodwitch about something, but I forgot about it. When I remembered it we came back she wasn't here but we thought she might come back so we stayed."
"Yeah. We didn't mean to be creepy but we thought you'd come back, Professor."
"I was about to let Wetzlar commence some training. We'll speak about it later if that's fine with the two of you." Glynda said.
At the mention of that, Ruby perked up instantly, returning to the energetic and chipper huntress-in-training that they knew her as.
"Oh! Can we watch?! Please? Please?!" Ruby asked, her voice rife with anticipation.
Wetzlar looked at Glynda, whose gaze turned to him after she asked that.
"I'm okay with it." He said.
"I... I don't know if-" Glynda started.
"Come now, Glynda! Let them stay! It's not every day that someone gets to see the combat tactics used by a member of the Mistrali Army!" Oobleck piped up.
"Bartholomew! Show some-"
"I have to agree with Bart, Glynda! This is a once-in-a-lifetime moment we would be witnessing! There aren't many veterans of the Great War left, you know!" Port added.
"If I could-"
"Glynda, I would hate to pick sides, but it appears to be four-to-one on this matter." Ozpin interrupted, a sip of his coffee following.
Her eyes widened at his words, her mouth agape for but a moment before she found her words. Wetzlar couldn't help but smirk at her astonishment. He watched Ruby's eyes widen and the smile on her face grow. Jaune however, spoke to Ruby in a hushed tone, with a nod of confirmation from her in response, then he left the classroom.
He watched as Glynda tapped at her scroll some more, the whirring of machinery slowly coming into earshot for him.
"Wetzlar, would you prefer any specific species of Grimm?" She asked.
"What kinds you have? You gonna bring em' out, or is some kinda hole gonna open in the floor or something?"
"Oh, no. We have, in our possession, a machine that creates a near-lifelike representation of any of the known and well-documented species of Grimm, such as Beowolves, Nevermores and the like." She explained.
He paused for a moment, as if he was trying to decipher what she said.
"You've got a machine." He said.
"Yes." She replied.
"That makes Grimm. Like, out of thin air?"
Glynda nodded, as did Oobleck and Port.
"I don't really... Y'know, just, uh, just surprise me. Far as I know you don't get the chance to decide."
Glynda, in response, tapped some more on her scroll, which caused more noise from the machinery that Wetzlar still had not seen. In just a moment, though, a pale-blue light shot out from above him and within it, materialized a Beowolf.
It looked like a Beowolf, even if it was twice the size of the biggest he had ever seen, and the same color as the shaft of light it had came in on. It growled at him as it hunched over slightly, readying itself for the inevitable conflict. Wetzlar, in response, brought his other hand to his sword's hilt and gripped it tightly, readying it in one of the ways he had been taught, with the blade rested on his shoulder. The creature appeared to be sizing him up, it's head moving ever so slightly up and down.
"Wetzlar, I've ran a program that will continue to spawn Grimm until your aura reaches a certain level. This first wave will consist of a singular Alpha Beowolf." She explained, her voice amplified by something.
Wetzlar nodded in response, waiting for the beast to attack. It was something he had learned long ago, when he was younger. Lord Nikos's captain of the guard was rather adept at the slaying of Grimm and he made sure that all of the soldiers under his command knew how to fight them well. He went over the words he'd said to them time and time again in his head.
Ye let the creature be the one to' make the first move if possible. Now, they ain't smart like a human, but they'll always try to get the upper hand on ye, so watch them as close as ye can without blinding yourself to the world around ye.
The thing sped forward, it's claws, wicked and razor-sharp, bared at him. Wetzlar let the beast get close, close enough that it could pounce at him, like it did and he had expected of it. With a bit of quick footwork, he dodged the creature, his blade finding its hide as he swung it. He felt the impact, the way that only a clean hit could tell him, and he turned to face the creature as it readied itself to lunge at him once more.
The beast had succumbed to a rather grievous injury, if he had to say. He had never lost trust in the steel he was given, and the thing had proved its worth once more. The beowolf had a large gash in its right side, with the blade leaving it in a nasty state that would have killed anything lesser outright. He gave the blade a twirl, as if to taunt the it, and readied his sword once more.
The Beowolf lunged again, this time being somewhat more on target as he felt the claws graze his shoulder. Even with that, he was able to wound it too, and much worse than the thing did to him, as the creature fell limp as it hit the ground once more and then disappear, as all Grimm do when they are felled.
He heard two things. The first was the sound of more machinery, and the second was clapping. He turned his head toward the source and saw that his spectators, well, one of his spectators, specifically Ruby, were clapping at his performance. He smirked at that. At least he was putting on a good performance. The sound of the machine making more Grimm, and he readied himself accordingly. When he turned around, it was more than just a single alpha, but two, with eight lesser beowolves to back them up.
He smirked. This kind of practice was something he could grow used to.
Wetzlar walked back to the dorms from the teacher's lounge. When he looked out over the cliffside at the city below them, with the lights from the city driving away the foul darkness that covered the world, save for the light from that damned moon. On the way there, at the entrance to the path that led to the dorms, he met someone.
"Oh, hey Wetzlar!" Jaune greeted, waving to him as he approached.
"Jaune." He greeted in kind.
He looked over him and noted the way he was dressed. From what he could gather, what with himself being one of the few that were still awake at this time, he had guessed that it was nearing curfew.
"Where ya going? Shouldn't you be getting some sleep?" Wetzlar asked, his eyebrow raised.
"I'm headed out. I'll be back soon." Jaune answered.
"I'll come with. I've got trouble sleeping anyway."
He watched as Jaune's eyes widened, but he controlled himself and sighed.
"Nah man. I think I'd rather-" Jaune started.
"No one should have to travel alone. Along with that, I wanna talk."
"About what?"
"I just wanna know more about you, about your team, and team Ruby."
Jaune started to walk somewhere, and Wetzlar followed. He let Jaune lead, with himself just slightly behind. He looked at how he carried himself, with his shoulders low, like he was inferior.
"So, where you from, Jaune?" He asked.
"I'm from Vale. Well, not from the city, anyway. I lived further out, in a village. My folks used to live there for a while, but when I was younger, I think five, we moved to Mistral, since Dad found a place he liked even more than our old village. A cottage near Shion." Jaune answered.
"Shion Fields? Why the hell would you live near a battleground?" He asked.
"Shion-? No! Shion Village! Did you know about it?"
"Shion Fields was where I got transferred to the Special Detachment. Well, after the battle. There wasn't a village there when I visited. Is it nice?"
"Yeah. It's real cozy there and there's a campground where we'd go camping at. It's got a real pretty view of the lake me and my dad would fish at."
Wetzlar looked away for a moment, lost in thought. He looked back at Jaune shortly after, a smirk on his face.
"Is it a cliff, overlooking a lake that's got a big rock in the middle of it?" He asked.
Jaune nodded, and Wetzlar chuckled.
"What's so funny?" Jaune asked.
"Real small world. That's where my company camped. It was our first battle. Good lord, I almost fell off the cliff when we got a little tipsy one night. Never again, I'll tell you that." Wetzlar answered.
"You guys camped there? Like, before a big battle?" Jaune asked.
Jaune's mouth hung open slightly, his eyes not coming off of Wetzlar. Wetzlar felt another pang of amusement as he looked at on at his astonishment.
"Yeah. Ten-thousand of us versus fifteen-thousand Valen."
Jaune went silent for a moment, but eventually he found his words.
"Did you..."
He hesitated once more, and Wetzlar watched as he looked away for a moment, before he found his courage again.
"Did you... kill anyone there?" He asked.
"Yeah. I killed three men there. They'd ganged up on my friend, Martis, and I got to them in time before they could kill him. Didn't like it, if that's what you were thinking. I know I didn't hesitate to answer. I didn't hesitate when I killed them, either. I ran the first one through from behind, then hamstrung the second, and when the third charged at me I disarmed him and cut his throat. The second tried to get up, but I ran him through before he could." Wetzlar said.
"Geez."
"Yep. Jaune?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't kill anyone if you can get away with it. It's a horrible thing to have to do."
The two stopped talking after that. It wasn't until they reached the edge of the campus, where the academy bordered the Emerald Forest, when they spoke again. It wasn't Wetzlar who initiated it this time, but Jaune.
"So, you sat in on classes today. Did you like it?" He asked.
"Yeah. I did. Maybe they'll let me sit in on some more." Wetzlar answered.
"You probably saw my fight with Cardin, then."
"Yep. You've got a lot to learn."
Jaune shrugged at that, then pushed a branch out of their way.
"I'm a failure. I'm just not on their level." He said.
Wetzlar could hear the dejectedness in his voice, and he knew how he felt.
"You aren't a failure if you got in here. Hell, I'll train you if you want. If there's one thing I know, it's how to fight people." Wetzlar replied.
Jaune shook his head, but he didn't seem to openly reject the idea.
"I shouldn't have to be trained. I wanna do this on my own! My dad, my granddad and my great granddad were all warriors, they were all heroes!" He said, his voice raised.
"Warriors start out just like everyone else. I wasn't as good as I am today. I got beaten, I got hurt. I broke my fingers more times than I can count. I got cut, bruised, stabbed, shot, and eventually I almost died. Everyone starts somewhere, Jaune. I watched you. You're not helpless. You just need someone to direct your potential." Wetzlar replied.
"And what if I never get better?! What if I just stay a failure?! Look, if I can't even have hold my own in a duel, what chance could I stand against someone other than Cardin?!"
He reached for his shield and activated it, and it expanded accordingly. Jaune watched as Wetzlar looked at it, his eyes wide.
"What? Is there something on it?" Jaune asked.
"That emblem,"
He pointed at the shield, his mouth bearing a slight scowl.
"I've seen it before." Wetzlar answered.
"You have?"
"Yeah. That was the emblem on the shield of the son-of-a-bitch who almost killed me."