Deep in the badlands of the Vale, law was fickle. Down here, strength and cunning were the deciding factor between life and death. It was something engraved in its very earth. And now, a pair of boots stepped boldly on it. Boots as black as night, regal in their simplicity and practicality. They connected to legs clad in similarly black leather.
The owner of those simple boots and tight pants, was neither tall nor short. Their stature was not bulky, and not thin, lean one could say. Perhaps tilting towards feminine. If compared to the rest of humanity, the shape could be considered simple.
This new arrival wore black robes that reflected the stars and shone under the glory of the fractured moon. These robes were as simple as the rest of the clothes, showing not a single attention-catching ornaments. There was nothing to weigh it down like armor or complex weapons.
A silver clasp held it together at the neck. The robe's short sleeves revealed nothing much, as the arms were covered by an undercoat. That last piece of tight clothes wasn't widened by muscles or thin enough to show bones. It was dark as well, but with silver studded manchettes. It was yet another simple detail.
The collar of the robes were popped up high, covering the sides of the neck to protect those vulnerable parts from the elements. If you ignored the shadowy color palette, the man's clothes screamed practicality. Just like the man who wore them.
Attached on his back was a black greatsword. Its brown leather handle peered over the shoulder, and presented a rectangular guard. The blade it supported was well crafted and flat tipped. This weapon screamed simplicity. Just like the man who wielded it.
All in all, the attire was light and maneuverable for a man who fought with agility and dexterity. A man who would not take blows in a fight needed no armor. A bold yet simple logic.
The attire was lightly dirtied, and lightly damaged from time spent camping, and travelling. He was a wanderer, one who could defend himself.
But why had this simple man wandered into such a complicated place as the Valean badlands? It was not simple to walk alone. What was most non simple was that the simple man wore a very elaborate mask.
The mask resembled the appearance of a bird. It was composed of several layers of dark bronze plating placed over one another. Their placements kept the mask smooth on the face, but as it extended it curled and grooved to resemble a creature that was much more than human. Some spots were lined with curled silver. As for the openings, two sharp ovals served as eyes, but there were no visible sockets to breathe through. Truly not so simple.
In the distance,the far, far distance, the overwhelmingly simple man could spy a great amount of campfires, little dots among the crooked and complicated land he aimed to wander in. Behind his strange mask, the man smiled. A friendly smile. A simple smile.
Tonight was a night to rejoice, after all. His Lady had spoken, and the simple man would go about his duties with the grace of a predator and the compassion of a man who loved nought but what he was trained to do.
He was prepared for the celebration. So prepared in fact, that those in the distance might have felt that unseen, simple smile become predatory. The black blade that slept on the back of this visitor gracefully awakened in a quiet rasp of metal and leather. The man brought it forward, enjoying this simple act of unsheathing.
That sword sure was hungry. Good thing those who occupied the campfires were ready to offer themselves, whether they knew it or not, to some simple old-fashioned Salvation.
…
…
…
Grimm Studies. Pyrrha knew that this would be the class that finally killed her. And not because of glorious battle of blades and bullets sadly. In fact, the Amazon felt that if any weapon did kill her, it would be mercy killing. Anything would do but listening to this mind-leeching fairy tale.
"No no, stay strong." She thought. "The Professor is a professional Huntsman, a graduate and decades my senior. He would not be allowed to teach if he wasn't competent."
"And that, dear students, is how I killed a pack of rampaging Alpha Beowolves with nothing but a stick, a handful of rubber bands and sunscreen!" The enthusiastic teacher looked over the classroom with a proud smirk. "Well well... I think we have some time left so how about we talk about the time I took out a Beringel clad in my birthday suit, with nothing but suntan lotion and my shining..!"
"OH IT GETS WORSE!" She screamed internally.
Pyrrha, at this very moment, felt her brow twitching and spasming violently like in a cartoon. Even after all her years of dealing with reporters, nosy fans, lecherous stalkers, awed passersby, insufferable sparring partners and damnable sponsors, she couldn't stop her practiced and perfected smile from cracking into something not very sane.
She, a four time Mistral Champion, straight A student, the Goddess of Victory (and Gods did she hate that title), only needed an hour into the first class of her first day of Beacon Academy to feel like committing seppuku! Or murder... Maybe both? Any order would be fine really...
Oh, don't get her wrong, she knew what the Professor was attempting to do; life lessons via life stories. She had gone through classes where teachers did something similar, forcing their students to find the hidden details, to piece together the hints and techniques via hard thinking and teamwork. She did her best to write few pages and a half worth of randomly scribbled notes. Those writings were hurried and chaotic compared to the elegant cursives of the white board and whatever theatric dregs she could catch in the teacher's story. But in this case, after three hours of hellish lecture, she concluded that Professor Peter Port was just so. Damn. Bad!
"Seriously! The man could force a horde of Beowolves into mass suicide with a story and a jiggle of the jowls!" She wanted to tell her neighbors, but was too depressed to do so.
However, she only managed to sigh weakly. In a desperate effort to restore her sanity, the fiery haired Spartan took the time to glance around the class. It didn't reveal much variety. Most of the students were either sleeping (lucky them), dazing off into space (ther souls had been stolen it seemed), or like her; forcing their eyes forward to suffer through the "lesson" just like good studious students. Among this pitiful assembly was Team RWBY, her dorm-neighbors. Those four were practically dead to the world at this point.
The tall blonde girl, Yang, was flat on her desk with a disgusted face. She made her head balance on her chin as if to prevent her brain from solidifying.
The young team leader, Ruby, -somehow wearing a cape and not violating school uniform code- was doodling something with her tongue poking out, making a soft but disturbing noise.
Then there was the ever obnoxious but good hearted -or so she could hope- Weiss Schnee. She appeared to die on the inside with each scratch of pencil on paper coming from her partner. The gross sounds coming from her red partner didn't help.
The quiet, bow wearing girl, Blake she believed, seemed a little too interested in the class textbook. Wait… A closer glance revealed some form of smaller novel hidden within the textbook.
Pyrrha clenched her fists, almost breaking her pen: "Oh you dirty scoundrel! You couldn't have brought more?" Jealousy was eating her alive now. Many years of private tutors and etiquette classes made it a near impossible idea to even try and skirt lessons. Even ignoring the teacher for a moment made her feel guilty. Oh, but how wonderful it would be to hear and see something with a bit of sense in it... She resisted this distasteful temptation at a great price and left those four sad cadavers to their business.
Determined to pull through, she decided to focus on her own team, seated all around her. It was here that Pyrrha's cracking, plastic smile she had maintained thus far became something more genuine. Whatever lottery she had won, by the Brothers was she overjoyed to have won it! Three -Three!- people! Three living, breathing, interesting people. Well... One being living was debatable, but she'd rather focus on the good first! The two girls and her partner had some substance at least!
Oro, a dual sword wielding girl with fireworks in her heart. She only brought up the titles and championships once, to ask if the two could spar some time. After Pyrrha half-heartedly agreed, the hot-tempered student seemed to ignore that those titles of Invincible Girl and Goddess of Victory even existed, merely asking what bed she preferred. Pyrrha felt a nostalgic thinking back on this.
Usually, when people asked to spar with her, it was mostly in an effort to wrack up social "points" as it were; to say they sparred with the Goddess of Victory and survived the attempt (stupidly forgetting the meaning of sparring in the process. In conclusion, any fighting match was only made for lecherous goals, social empowering goals. Oro had wanted someone strong to fight and talk to, and left it at that.
The golden eyed girl was polite, but despite her knightly appearance, seemed quite capable of speaking her mind in a very informal, relaxed prose. Smaller than Pyrrha, with raven black hair tied in a braid by a golden band, the girl and her pale, flat expression managed to scratch down notes diligently, but Pyrrha didn't know her enough yet to tell if she could withstand the Professor's exaggerated, boring-to-tears stories or was just acting with the best poker face Pyrrha had ever seen.
Our perfect student turned her eyes to Oro's left. She saw another raven haired girl, Epifania, sitting with the most adorable expression of despair in the world. Here she was, the faunus with tears forming in her violet eyes, and her head tilting to the side like a begging puppy's. She looked about ready to collapse, the poor thing. An empty notebook and a freshly sharpened pencil in her shaky hands told of her frustration and confusion. She kept rapidly glancing down to her journal and then up to the Professor's chaotic presentation, moaning softly all the while. Being a priestess (or was it a Sister? Pyrrha didn't really know church titles) the faunus girl was given a specially made uniform, with a top that was white with gold accents instead of black with gold, a long skirt covering her legs entirely and a pair of cream white gloves with gold colorings sewn into the fingers. Around the girl's neck was a thin silver chain with a simple circle pendant resting on her breasts.
Oro and Epifania, it was clear their partnership was set in stone even before the Initiation began. Oro had revealed herself to be Epifania's bodyguard, in a sense. If they ever became separated, it would lead to Ozpin getting some heat from the Church. "Perhaps she is important to the Church? Or is this how it always goes with their members?" Getting a religious teammate was unusual, especially one with such a high position, or so the Amazon thought. Outside of that, the raven girl was polite, very shy, but quick to warm up to new faces. Another precious beacon of hope in this sea of boredom.
Having said that, the sight of the last person on Pyrrha's team was not as appreciated as the rest. It was hard to keep her smile up and running. She would never (she doubted she ever could) forget about the fact that she killed her own partner during the Initiation, and that that same boy came back to life with her spear lodged in his chest. Pretty crazy. You had to be there...
She wanted to say it was a Semblance (a very creepy one), she really did, but there was no convincing herself of that when she had to awaken the boy's Aura after he came back from death. He was literally a revenant or something. And now there they were, in a classroom with a boring teacher like nothing happened. She...really didn't know what to do about this situation with her partner.
The changes in the handsome boy (even now, she couldn't exactly deny that) were major. Jaune's skin had gotten paler. His face now presented a ghoulish, emotionless smile, one that sent shivers down her spine. His eyes had retained their color, but they felt different, devoid of humanity somehow. The boy seemed just as lost about the situation, perhaps more so, as she did, though Pyrrha doubted she could understand what coming back from the dead felt like, and she was very certain she never wanted to. The boy didn't look like a monster, and despite his ignorance on the matter, she knew he was still reeling from it. She figured as much on the first night team JOPE spent together. Whenever he thought they weren't looking, sometimes even when they were, he'd get this dazed looks in his dull blue eyes, spacing out, but quickly coming back down to Remnant in only a matter of seconds.
The poor boy could be hiding his pain from the three girls, and only Pyrrha may know the reason why, or could get one of the major reasons why. Oro and Epifania had no clue. They were perplexed, but content to let the team leader deal with it. It happened only the first day, after all, it would be awkward to get into something personal with people they barely know.
Pyrrha couldn't help it, she was afraid of Jaune. "Who wouldn't be?" she told herself. And she couldn't run from it either, she wouldn't. She was responsible for Jaune's very apparent death, though our Undead warrior had yet to notice it. So the emerald eyed Amazon made a silent vow to figure it out with him. Eventually. To help.
Technically she had made that same vow five times in the past two hours, doubting and questioning herself all the while. But she was stubborn, and no amount of fear would keep her from helping with a problem she had caused. Her honor was at stake, and her position demanded it.
"Alright… Mental rant over. Only twenty minutes left before class ends.", she thought. She looked towards the Professor once again. Still ranting, still boring. Despite herself, her mind wandered to the memories of the previous night.
Back then, Jaune was confident and calm. Sometimes he was spacing out here and there, but still rather calm. More than anything he was friendly, already joking with Oro, and at least trying to befriend Pyrrha (situation aside, it made her giddy to have another non-admirer!) but despite his goofy demeanor, there were signs that already worried her.
First, it happened during Initiation. The young man had rocked their world with his incredible power. Whatever that crimson Aura attack was, it let off a big enough amount of pressure to make the group pass out and cause untold damage to their area of the forest. It was chaotic but very powerful. Was it Jaune's Semblance too? Whatever it was, it was dangerous, and needed work, immediately.
Second, was what happened when Epifania told her that Jaune was staring at her back at the dorm. The faunus boy (because he was one of them. How she never noticed his slitted pupils until then was another mystery) always frowned at the innocent Priestess, Pyrrha noticed, whenever he glanced at her. There was clear signs of frustration in his eyes, but none of it was aimed at the girl, rather it was simply her pendant. He said so himself.
"Look...I won't get in the way of your beliefs. I refuse to. I believe everyone is free to worship what they want, just, please don't try and include me in it. I'm not trying to be rude it's just...the Church and my family don't have very good...relations, I guess."
Whatever that meant. Religion wasn't exactly a big issue in Pyrrha's life, never has been. Sure, she had met religious people, and was baptized herself, but she wasn't much of a churchgoer, and only just now met anyone who had any issue with the church. It did seem personal to Jaune, and adding that revelation to the pile of confusing concerns that only happened a couple days earlier, and Pyrrha was left in a frazzled mess when it came to her partner. It was personal though, and she didn't exactly have any right to demand answers. The other girls might, but she doubted it. Just another confusing piece of info on her undying partner.
Said partner's face didn't move much, but like Oro did, he was capable of getting notes down on paper. Oh shoot... Jaune must have caught her staring, for his eyes slid to meet hers, a small wave accompanying a few seconds of awkward silence. Awkward… The embarrassment was broken only by the class bell and Port's yelp of surprise.
"Hmm, seems we've run out of time for the main event! Oh well, on your way now, students, your day has only begun after all!" Joy…
The red-haired Champion of Beacon Academy let out a sigh. She packed her things, mirroring the slowly awakening class. As she joined the line to the exit without a glance to their teacher, she redacted a last mental oath.
"I swear on the Nikos name, Jaune Arc, that from now on, you have my support." And this time, she didn't hesitate to stand next to her partner as they left the room… Not too close though.. okay, yes, maybe she did hesitate... Zombies are not her forte.
…
"We must do something about Lady Nikos, Jaune." said the ghastly voice.
A righteous knight lowered a weary head. The voice was both welcoming, and a little annoying at the obvious being mentioned, but Jaune didn't disagree with it. He just wasn't sure how to go about it. After packing his notebook and pencil case back up in his knapsack, he calmly waited for his teammates to catch up to him near the exit. Poor Epifania had endured this ordeal without fainting, but now she was panicked about her lack of notes, of all things. He took the time to answer his new friend. "Right, and just how do we do that? 'Hello Pyrrha, I'm an Undead so I can't die. Don't worry about stabbing me in the chest!' Seriously… She could… like... overreact if we told her the truth. She's already rather rattled, and we don't know her that well. She might snap and cut my head off. Or put her spear in my head, I don't know..."
Chosen grumbled a little, and Jaune could almost clearly picture the imposing black knight walking alongside him, a confidence in his step that Jaune figured he could really use right about now. He still only became an Undead and was revealed the true nature of his long past rather recently, so he could be forgiven for being so nervous. Thankfully, Chosen's personality, and he knew it was the black knight's soul housed in his chest's fault, kept him rather calm.
Not completely calm, but enough for him to think clearer than he otherwise would, and not show his nerves nearly as much.
"We can focus on Pyrrha later, we need to get to the next class. If Professor Oobleck is anything like Port, than we can go over more ideas in class." Thankfully, he was an Undead, and Jaune was quite certain having to listen to Port's stories on a regular basis may just be the death of him. Since the man was so far gone in his own ego to tell that half his class was dead to the world, Chosen decided to run through things Jaune should focus on, mostly being training with his sword and shield, and how best to implement his Chaos.
Jaune wasn't fond of the idea of Chaos just festering within him and remaining uncontrolled, but thanks to Chosen's magical expertise, the only thing he needed was a space to practice and the time to do so, and he wouldn't have to worry. So many things to do, and nothing he can do about it. The young Undead gritted his teeth in frustration, but there was no pain to stop him from feeling the blood on his lips. Chosen insisted:
"Getting your weaknesses and strengths down will be paramount, Jaune. Tell me, what do you know abo-?"
"Ahem… Jaune?" called a deep, yet clearly feminine voice in front of him.
Jaune blinked and refocused back on what was currently happening, namely that Oro was looking at him with brow raised.
"You're bleeding." she said with a raised eyebrow, pointing to her mouth.
Suickly, Jaune wiped his face and giggled in embarrassment.
"Ah, s-sorry Oro. I was thinking about… you know… something. Er... did you want something?" Another thing to work on. Spacing out with Chosen probably wasn't smart, especially in public.
"Must have been brutal. So, I was asking, leader of mine, if you realized you've been staring at the wall for the past minute."
He had, hadn't he. Taking a glance around, Jaune finally caught the confused stares aimed his way from the students that were trickling down the hall. This was worse than he thought. Now, Pyrrha and Epifania were the ones politely waiting for the two of them on the way towards World History.
"O-oh, like I said I was just caught up in thought… Really, sorry about that." Oro's brow didn't lower, but her questioning eyes did soften a bit.
"You sure it's not about the changes to your Aura?" she insisted. "We're used to weirdness from the Church and our trainers, and we're going to be teammates for the next four years, so how about you come clean?"
Ah, that. Worst question at the worst possible time. Nodding his head slowly, he almost missed the quickly stifled grimace that appeared on Pyrrha's face, head turning slightly to not face him.
He was debating just how to explain what was happening to the girl who had killed him why he was still breathing, and telling the other two members, members of what is basically the Way of White with a slight name change that he was an 'unholy' Undead? Yeah, he couldn't do that.
Instead, he merely went with what the Doc told him, how apparently his Aura had undergone Forced Evolution, and the changes it brought made him distracted. Despite only recently learning about Aura, it was surprisingly easy to blame anything on it.
"I'm a lucky guy who got special abilities on the fly! It's all good, but scary too. You could say I'm overwhelmed by my awesomeness. Guess I'm still getting used to being a special case." And now Epifania was approaching him. Jaune rubbed his neck and got the point. "Just give me a few days and I won't daydream anymore! Honest! Hahaha!"
"That's good then! I-if you'd like, Sir Jaune, perhaps we could talk about this during lunch? If not there, then, um, the dorm? As your teammate, I am always here to help...unless you don't want to, that is!" The deer faunus had a surprisingly low amount of confidence, and this was just a normal conversation! Well, kind of normal.
It could also be because he revealed he wasn't very fond of the very Church that more than likely fostered the girl. Still, he gave Epifania a smile, glad that she didn't seem to take offense to his request, at least not enough to cause a potential rift in the team. Now all he needed to do was get her to stop calling him 'Sir'.
"Why, thanks, Epifania." Calm restored, he accompanied his team to the next lesson. Hopefully, it won't be as boring as the last one. Undead or not, the Professor had made him feel deader than during the Initiation. Besides, it was World History, what was the worst that could happen?
Okay! So, I'm back, and with some more help! I would love to introduce my very helpful and very kind beta-reader, Arklaw! Being responsible for the release of this new chapter, I truly cannot thank him enough for all the help he has given me! Arklaw is a cheerful man, who is in the process of writing stories of his own! Definitely great reads!
Perhaps you've heard of him, perhaps you haven't, but either way, he is worth checking out!
Thank you, all of you, for being so patient with me, and I can only hope this chapter was worth the wait! Questions can be directed to me, as always.