Embers of Autumn
Chapter Fifty
What a relief it was for Salem to see that of all the things that had changed in Vale while she was...away, the manor wasn't one of them. Throughout the roughly half-hour drive from the city to Queen's Hollow, she finds herself steadily relaxing as unfamiliar suburbia gives way to sprawling meadows and farms, level and well kept asphalt conceding to two and one lane roads with faded lines. She points out a SDC rail depot, a part of her having expected it to be gone after all this time. And when the road becomes flanked by the dense ranks of evergreens and winter-stripped oaks, she lets out a comforted sigh. It feels something like home, a sensation she hasn't held for some time.
Glynda watches her in passing from the other side of the back seat, her mind buzzing off and on with thoughts and questions that she isn't sure she should ask. More often she finds herself starting at the blurred world outside the car window, her knuckles against her chin, ticking off a mental checklist of all the things that had never made sense until now -now that she knew the truth about Jarreth. And what a long list it turned out to be.
How he always seemed to be in the right place at the right time, how he had an answer of some kind for almost anything, and how he just knew. To him nothing had been random, nothing could truly take him by surprise, and anything could be predicted. Shame he couldn't have predicted all this. Or maybe he had. There was no way of knowing, and that fact made rage surge in her heart that she quickly smothers. Her thoughts are broken up as the car jolts and jumps, the vehicle dropping off of paved road and onto the gravel path leading up to the manor; Salem's resulting giggle is surprisingly pleasant to hear.
When the pale sedan finally stops, three of the four doors open; the two Witches accompanied by Billy step out, their alleviated weight making the car rock when they stand up. The Faunus sees Salem awkwardly trying to get out of the car and offers a massive hand, only nodding when she thanks them for the help. They see Glynda on the far side, notices how she just stares up at her house, almost like she doesn't quite recognize it.
"Still have that uneasiness?" they ask.
"I do." Glynda replies without hesitation, turning up the collar of her coat at a little burst of icy wind. "Part of me feels like I should know what it is."
"Perhaps you would have me walk the house? I could look for anything out of place, I am an expert tracker after all."
"Hm." she nods once. "Only if it wouldn't trouble you."
"No trouble." They assure her. "Best get inside so I can get to it now, while there's still daylight."
"Thank you for coming with us, Billy. Though I can't help but feel as though you shouldn't have." Glynda shuts the door and starts around the read of the car to stand beside her sister. "Miss Rose is still rather fragile, I think."
"Perhaps, but Ruby has her family with her, her team, I think she'll be fine. At least she will be long enough for me sniff out whatever it is getting your hackles up."
"Again, you have my thanks."
"I was getting tired of that hospital anyway."
"And Raven's daughter scolding you?" Salem chances a smirk and holds down a knowing giggle.
"I won't deny that it was a factor." they concede. And it wasn't so much that Yang had been wrong -they could easily agree with her on almost every point, with the exception of being called heartless- but mostly that they needed to get away and consider it all. Maybe, just maybe, they had made a mistake. "But I'll be back inside by nightfall if not sooner, just be sure to lock yourselves in tight."
"Naturally." Glynda nods once, passing a few Lien to the driver for his trouble before taking Salem by the arm and walking with her to disappear inside the manor.
The younger Witch remembers the smell of the place, the aroma of age and dust, and pauses just inside the doorway to draw deeply of it. She had always liked this house, loved its huge rooms and staircases, its stained glass that would dance across the floors with the passing sunlight. The gargoyles are her favorite, the numerous winged monkeys that stood guard in hallways and on the roof and in the garden. She fell in love with the house the second she stepped inside it for the first time, back when she was barely sixteen and excited to attend Beacon and eager to follow in her older sister's footsteps.
"I have a room ready if you would like to lie down." Glynda says to get Salem's attention back.
"Hm? Oh, well, perhaps in a while, thank you."
"Then would you like something to drink? Coffee?"
"If you still make it the way I remember, I wouldn't exactly call it a drink." and Salem smiles when Glynda shrugs, unknowing that she's rolling her eyes too. "Though if you have any tea on hand, I would certainly appreciate it."
"I do." and single nod. "Though I would imagine you'd want to change first?"
Salem pauses again, looking down at herself dressed in little more than a winter coat that Glynda brought for her and the pajama like scrubs from the hospital. "Hm. Suppose I should. Can't walk around in nightclothes forever, can I?"
"The wardrobe in your room is full, though I'll admit that none of it is actually yours." All that had been packed up and shipped out years ago. Whatever her father hadn't wished to keep.
"I expected as much." Salem then takes a half step towards the nearest set of stairs. "Second floor?"
"Yes, next to my bedroom."
"I'm assuming that's in the same place too?" Because her sister was someone that liked to keep things the same. She goes along her way when Glynda nods, giving quiet thanks in return.
Glynda moves on to the kitchen, feeling herself expand and deflate with a sigh. Part of her still doesn't know how to feel with Salem here. In a way it reminds her of dreams she used to have, strangely vivid dreams in the weeks following Salem's disappearance in Menagerie. That hunt had been particularly hard on everyone involved, and Glynda had retreated to the manor to recover and adjust; in that time she often found herself waking in places she didn't remember having been -not really recalling having fallen asleep- but remembering having conversations at length with her little sister just moments before. When it persisted she scheduled regular visits with a therapist who deemed it a sort of separation anxiety coupled with a delayed form of shock. Four months of treatment helped her level out again, but none of what she took away from that could have prepared her for what she was dealing with now. Because this time she isn't dreaming or sleepwalking, she's wide awake and her dead sister is alive and walking this house just as much as she is herself.
That's why she jumps a little when she hears Salem come into the kitchen, one of the stools at the counter screeching on the tiles as she pulls it out and takes a seat. She's quick to apologize, and Glynda is quick to forgive.
"Do you feel up to continuing our conversation from yesterday?" Glynda asks as she sets a full kettle on the stove.
Salem looks up from the seemingly close study she had on her arm, from the whitened remains of fang marks and healed tears. "Does it have to be right now? I was hoping we could talk a little more."
"Well, we would be,"
"No, I mean catching up. It's been sixteen years or more," her brow knit gently with a certain sadness.
"The information you have could be terribly crucial, Salem, and one of the problems we had before and still have now is a severe lack of it. Gods forbid something happens to you, and we're left deaf, dumb, and blind again,"
For a moment they look at each other, and then Salem sighs quietly. "You were always business first. I don't know why I thought you might have changed."
"Everyone else has," Glynda inches her shoulders, "it only stands to reason that I would as well."
"But you didn't." the younger Witch laughs breathily, shaking her head. "You're so much like mother, it's almost frightening. Have you managed to reach her yet?"
"No, not yet. As I said, it isn't easy to get word to and from Menagerie. I'll keep trying, though."
"What about Gypsy? You said she has children, are there pictures?" she asks, even though she knows her sister isn't one to keep mementos like that. "What about my nephew? Seeing he's involved in this I think I should know what he looks like at the very least."
That much is fair, and that much is really all Glynda can agree to seeing as she doesn't have the other things Salem asked for. She'll fish her scroll from her pocket and sift through her list of contacts, somberly reminding herself to erase a few of them the next time she thinks about it. After a brief moment she steps away from the stove and reaches out to her sister, tilting the screen of the scroll towards her so she can see the picture of Jaune.
At first Salem smiles, then her expression quirks. "He's Gypsy's?"
"The eyes."
"...Ah yes, I see now." she smiles again, then it slowly dies, turning into something else. "Oh dear."
"What's wrong?"
"I tried to kill him." her tone is frank, but her face is fretting as she passes the device back. "Goodness, is he all right?"
"As far as I know he was none the worse for wear afterwards."
Salem nods. "I'd like to apologize to him in person, although if you should speak to him before that, tell him I'm sorry."
Glynda agrees as she likely would have the opportunity much sooner that Salem would.
"All of those kids deserve an apology...well, a lot more than that to be fair, but that's all I have. Especially Ruby," Salem quiets for a moment, thinking, "Summer would have been so proud."
"You can give them more by sharing with me everything Jarreth told you. They might not even have to face what comes out of this, and whether or not they do rests solely with you."
"You're right." she doesn't hesitate, nodding slowly. "You're right. But it's hard, you know? He made me promise to keep it secret. Breaking my word...even though he's gone,"
"I know, but Jarreth had a streak of idiocy as long as my arm," Glynda almost bites back, feeling a swell of bitterness in her chest, "not all of his choices should be respected. Though I'm sure you disagree,"
"To a point, yes, but just because I loved him doesn't mean I did so blindly. I know he wasn't perfect, and neither were some of his decisions." Salem takes a moment to think, just long enough as it takes Glynda to pass her a cup after having taken the whistling kettle from the stove. "There were times when I thought he trusted you more than me, and the fact that he didn't tell you any of this infuriates me on some level."
Glynda laughs as she sits across from her sister. "Nice to know we're on the same page."
Salem smiles too and lifts her cup. "Here's to that stupid man, may the gods rest his soul."
Glynda agrees and taps her mug to Salem's, both Witches taking a small sip. "So," she sighs, "what's in his office vault?" and she expects to wait, knowing it would take a moment for her sister to get up the guts to break a promise, so she takes another sip from her mug.
"His mother's mirror."
And then proceeds to choke on it. Her eyes are wide and starting to water as she coughs hard behind her fist. She'll try to speak a number of times, only to fumble and cough again. When it seems to finally pass she just gapes at her sister until the words come back. "Zerline's mirror?"
Salem nods. "He said his mother hid it, didn't even tell him where, but he eventually tracked it down to a chasm of waterfalls in Menagerie where there's a huge collection of black Dust. That's how he knew where to find the Manticore, the mirror was in its den."
"Then what was it still doing there for us to hunt?"
"This was a long time before us, before Raven, so he had no means of banishing it then. He just subdued it and reclaimed the mirror to bring back to Vale. According to him, Beacon was built around it."
Glynda continues to stare for a moment, blinking and shaking her head as she slumps against the back of her chair. She's having another moment of staggering clarity, where things once incomplete start falling together to become whole.
"I've been thinking about it," Salem continues, suddenly sounding less like she's telling a story and more like she's remembering, "I think that's why it had me send Cinder to Beacon in the first place. It wasn't about Jarreth...well, not entirely, but it was about the mirror."
"Why? What could you have possibly done with it from the other side?"
"It could have used it to escape. For all intents and purposes, it's not just Zerline's focus, but Barren's as well."
"That's impossible, Grimm can't-"
"Barren isn't like other Grimm, Glynda, it simply isn't, just as it's first born aren't like other Grimm. It's something more, something that none of the others are. Yes, it's still soulless and hellbent on destroying us, but it's magical. It didn't crawl out of the pitch darkness like the rest, Zerline made it with her own hands. It's a part of her."
At first Glynda says nothing, still trying to process it. She takes off her glasses so she can rub her eyes. "Would it be stupid of me to ask how you're so sure of this?"
"A bit." Salem says flatly. "That thing occupied my body for nigh on twenty years, we shared thoughts and memories whether we chose to or not and constantly pulled at each other trying to separate. When it settled in deep enough we sort of...melded together. Telling us apart in my mind became impossible, and it twisted everything together until I couldn't discern its desires from my own. It found out that a part of me wanted revenge on Jarreth for convincing us to...and everything began from there."
"You mean everything with Cinder Fall?"
Salem nods, taking a mouthful of tea. "I don't know what it saw in her, but it had to have been something incredible. Earning her trust and allegiance was paramount to whatever Barren had planned."
"And it didn't allow you to see that?"
"No. Don't ask me why." and the seemingly helpless confusion on Salem's face seems painfully real. "All I know is that its ultimate goal was to return to Remnant."
Glynda nods. "Thankfully we've managed to postpone that, and so long as Jarreth's cane remains where it is, we have very little to worry about."
"There's still Cinder."
"I haven't forgotten." as if she could. "And considering she hasn't tried to knock this house down leads me to believe that she doesn't know it's here -which is good for a number of reasons." Glynda finishes her coffee and pushes her mug aside, folding her hands atop the counter as she leans forward. "I have another question, though it might be a little off topic."
"Of course."
"What does Pyrrha Nikos have to do with all this?"
Salem's features flicker with surprise, a brief instant where she's caught off guard as her train of thought changes rails. "It was random...more like convenience, really. There was nothing particular about her that Barren was interested in, but she presented an opportunity for Barren to make something like Jabberwocky. However, as you might have noticed, the poor girl didn't turn into a twenty foot long lion monster."
"Indeed. Do you know how it was done?"
Salem nods. "We all come from Dust, you know that...that's the only explanation I could glean from it. Somehow it has magic powerful enough to...pull it all back together. And with my help it was able to put Manticore inside of her, make her like I was. Barren wanted children that could hide in plain sight among humans. Or, at least, hide more easily."
"I shudder to think."
The younger Witch swallows, taking a quick, stabilizing breath to go with a curt nod. "How is she doing? You said yesterday that you received some news,"
"According to Jaune the Manticore is still inside of her. She's lost use of her aura, her Semblance, and appears to have no emotional capacity to speak of."
"Gods above." the guilt is swelling up, higher and faster than it ever has, and it's almost too much. Salem slowly shakes her head, her face scrunching. "We've...what have we done, Glynda? Really? All that talking we did to convince ourselves we were doing the right thing...but we've hurt so many people. And for what?"
The older Witch forces herself to look at her sister, to accept and shoulder the weight of her expression that begs for answers. She then shifts in her seat, uncomfortable in more ways than one, and shrugs. "We took a chance. We gambled for a better world, a world without Grimm, we just never fully realized -or accepted, as the case may be- just how much we were actually risking. Like we all forgot that the house always wins."
"What sort of saying is that?"
"I heard it from Qrow, he's the authority on gambling."
"Ah." Salem nods once, exaggerated. "He's certainly changed, hasn't he? Never pegged him for an alcoholic."
"No one pegged him for a lot of things." Glynda shrugs, finally putting her glasses back on. "James all but hates him now, I think."
"James," Salem smiles around the words, having always had a fondness for him. "Is Major Ironwood still as...blunt as I remember?"
"It's general now, and yes, if not more so."
"General, my goodness. Does he still have a crush on you?"
Glynda buzzes her lips and stands up, taking her mug to the sink. "I wouldn't call it a crush, but it would seem so. I still think it's because I remind him so much of Willow."
"Understandable, I guess, but we're getting away from ourselves." Salem agrees with a hum and a lilt of her head. "Were we wrong to think we could do it? That we could stop the Grimm completely?"
She doesn't need time to consider the question, taking only a second before responding with "Maybe. Judging by the collateral of our failure, the answer is certainly yes."
"But we can still make some things right again, can't we?"
"I hope so. We're going to try our damnedest in-," she suddenly stops, her gaze cutting away and her back snapping straight in reaction to a loud, solid thump that obviously came from outside the house. She moves to stand up, Salem attempting to do the same until her sister gestures with one hand and tells her to stay put.
Once Glynda is in the hallway she breaks into a steady jog that gradually quickens, the former professor all but sprinting as she reaches the front door and hurries outside. She scurries down the stone steps onto the grass, taking several long strides forward as her head swivels to look around. After several tense seconds of seeing nothing out of place, even after she moves to look around either side of the house, her ears pick up on footsteps. She doesn't realize where they're coming from at first, but then she chances to look up, spotting the Bison Faunus atop the roof.
"What happened?" Glynda calls up.
Billy doesn't address her immediately, appearing to scan the area with obvious purpose for another moment before jumping down with a careful pulse of aura to ease the impact. "How sturdy would you say your home is?"
She blinks, partly for the sun in her eyes and partly with confusion. "Quite. Why?"
"Is it common for your stone totems to fall?"
"Pardon? Oh, you mean the gargoyles? No, it isn't. As far as I know it's never happened."
"Well it has now, and it nearly crushed my skull."
"You sound terribly calm for having almost died."
"Because that isn't the worst of it." they continue. "I don't think it just fell, I believe it was moved."
"What makes you say that?"
"I found tracks around the house, and as far as they know they aren't mine and they aren't yours, though they're similar. Whoever it is wears shoes much like yours, but they're smaller and not as heavy. My guess is a likely a woman half your size; more specifically, one of Cinder's Guardians."
"Well, we were only here a couple weeks back, could it have been one of the girls?"
"No," they shake their head, "they're too fresh. There's been snow or rain more recently than that and it would have washed them out by now."
Glynda can feel tension creeping through her ribcage, a heated tightness that makes her take a breath. "Did you find anything else?"
"Muddy tracks on the roof, they match the ones on the ground almost perfectly. As far as I can tell, at least."
"I believe you." the Witch nods. "Gods, this is a problem."
"Indeed. Although at least we know you're not just paranoid."
"I would have preferred that." Glynda huffs.
The two share an empty chuckle, covering up their resignation to the facts of the matter. "Do you still feel that unease, though?"
"Not now. Whoever it was is long gone, and if it was Cinder's Guardian, they're likely headed off to tell her whatever it is they found."
Billy nods. "I'll stay...help however I can."
"That would be appreciated."
"Should we tell the others?"
"I'll tell them, but I think the last thing we need is the girls out here. I can always find another place to hide things, but I don't think I have it in me to hunt down Maidens again."
"Fair enough. And who knows, maybe Qrow will find Cinder first."
While Glynda Goodwitch has never been one to bet on maybe, yet at this point she just might try, but not until she's stacked the deck.
(II)
Tag tells herself today will be different, that it'll be better than yesterday and the day before. She told herself she would get up at a decent hour along with everyone else and eat with them, try and be a person again instead of the transparent feeling shade that just moved from room to room to work or sleep. The Spring Maiden all but swore to herself that she would get over this...slump, and in the beginning she seems to keep to that. She gets out of bed with the others, cleans herself up and even bothers to run a comb through her hair. She easily and happily returns greetings from anyone who offers, smiling for the first time in what feels like days -though she only partly means it, thinking fake it 'til you make it. She heard the phrase somewhere and thought it was apt.
Sitting down at the breakfast table feels natural and she eases into the conversations that bounce from seat to seat as platters of food are laid out in front of them. Tag is surprised to see Rhea appearing so relaxed, the spiteful hurt from yesterday looking to have disappeared. Mind you she doesn't try to talk to Tag, but the Faunus accepts it seeing as she hadn't expected her to in the first place. Just like she didn't expect for Haeda's shadow to fall on her as she sits in the next chair, a big smile on her freckled face as she signs "Nice to see you join in for a change." Somehow that alone cheers her up, doubly so when it seems like most everyone else shares the sentiment. It's nice to feel wanted.
Jaune is on her other side, swallowing his first couple bites before trying for Tag's attention. "You got a message on your scroll this morning."
"Oh? I didn't hear it go off."
"I know." he smiles. "It's from Glynda, but you were sleeping so hard I didn't want to wake you."
"Hopefully she won't be too offended to wait until I've eaten." though a part of her is itching to hear what she might want.
"Even if she is, it's not like there's much she can do from a whole kingdom away." Nora says, one cheek bulging with half chewed food.
"Still, it could be important."
"Taking care of yourself is just as important, if not more so." Ren adds.
Tag smiles to herself, humbled. "Fair enough." she nods. "Where's Pyrrha?"
"I believe she's in her room." Thana answered. "She had already eaten when I came out to start cooking."
"Did she seem all right?"
"Only as much as she can, I suppose." the elder huntress sighs. "I asked but...well, I'm sure you can imagine that I didn't get much of an answer."
"I'm going to keep trying." she assures her, almost perfectly mimicking her words from yesterday in tone and cadence.
"I know you will, and thank you."
"Yes. Thank you." it almost sounds forced, but Rhea says it all the same, though she doesn't look up from her plate. Tag accepts it quietly.
When she's cleared her plate the Spring Maiden excuses herself, meaning to go about her work for the day. She thinks to forgo her scroll a little longer, figuring that if she's to speak with Goodwitch anyway, it might serve to have something to say on her end first.
Tag would indeed find Pyrrha in her room, accompanied by a lone male peacock perched on the corner of her desk as she sits at it and works one of her puzzle books. The bird looks at Tag for a few seconds, making a nasal sort of purr before looking away; Pyrrha must have seen it moving as she turns her head. "Yes?"
"Good morning. How are you?"
"Fine. Do you need something?" and her tone isn't one of actual interest, just a polite reflex.
"Just wondering if you feel up to another session."
"If you're able."
"I'm okay." she smiles and nods. "May I come in?" and she steps through the door when Pyrrha makes a gesture with her hand.
Pyrrha simply turns her chair around to face her bed as Tag crosses to floor to sit in front of her, legs crossing and her tail curling to rest in her lap until she moves it out of the way.
"Anything in particular that I should take a look at?"
"No."
"All right. Give me your hands." Pyrrha complies and Tag takes them in a gentle but secure grip. "Brace yourself."
The magical connection forms with a sensation similar to being stuck with a needle; at first it's pressure that steadily spikes, then an instant of forgettable pain, and after that a gradually easing burn that settles in Pyrrha's veins. But the warmth is strangely welcome, she can feel her body drawing it in and embracing it, while on the Maiden's end it's like someone's tugging on her nerves like a partly interested cat with a stretch of string. It's beckoning, asking for just a little more. Tag knows it's the creature, the Old One needing to sate its hunger and instinct to survive at any cost. She senses the dull, dark pulsation of the Grimm's consciousness and focuses on it. The closer her magic comes to cornering it, the more the Maiden senses that monster's fear. Like it knows it's in danger.
Tag feels its fear and its fury; she can almost hear it snarling in warning and can definitely feel it bristling at her too close touch. It clings to Pyrrha, standing its ground as best it can in its reduced state, still jealously guarding what it needs to live from behind a barrier of thready shadows. In her mind's eye, through the holes in its influence Tag can see pinpricks of golden light -Pyrrha's life force.
I think it's time you found a new home.
A snarl echoes through the aether. Clearly it doesn't like that sound of that.
"I'm going to try and grab it, is that all right?" the question comes unevenly, like she's sleep talking.
"Do it."
Carefully, so carefully, Tag lets her magic swell and reinforce itself as she pushes a little deeper, bright green energy reaching out in glowing fingers towards the mass. Another vicious hiss grates her brain like steel wool, making the Maiden physically flinch to a stop. She quickly recovers and starts again. The hissing starts again too, low and constant, and then it surges into a trio of punctuated snarls. Tag can almost see massive paws with shimmering claws sweeping at her, trying to ward her off. She just keeps pushing, gaining inch by inch. Then there's a piercing roar and she has to stop again as pain lances her skull.
The connection breaks with the screech of nails on a chalkboard, Pyrrha blinking out of the dream state she was under. Tag is hunched in front of her, hands covering her face as her body pulses with deep breaths.
"Nature's grace," the Faunus pants, "gods, that hurt."
"It doesn't like you."
Tag looks up, blood smeared on her lips and chin from where it spills out of her nose. "That so?" she chuckles."Well I'm not too fond of it either, to be honest." she sniffs and wipes her face, composing herself. "Can I keep trying?"
Pyrrha just nods and relaxes back to the way she was just seconds ago. Tag takes her hands and she feels the magic seep into her again.
It doesn't take as long this time, Tag's able to get uncomfortably close with little effort but with some hesitation as the Old One continues to posture and resist. It roars again, but she refuses to yield. She stands fast, bolstering her magic like one shores up a wall. When the noise softens to an echo she starts pushing again. Her mind's eye has a clear picture of the darkness and how it's reacting, the pinpricks of golden light starting to narrow and disappear. The Grimm is frightened again.
"I'll go slowly. It...might be painful." more sleep talking, but she doesn't receive an answer, only the mental sensation she recognizes as consent. Bracing herself, she reaches for the darkness.
Spring and the void collide in a mess of verdant dark matter and gold stardust. They crash together in the aether like oil and water, both giving and taking for a time, breaking even. Then the darkness shudders, recoiling from the light, thinning and letting more of the gilded light shine through. The magic chases after the Grimm, pressuring, and at the same time tries to make contact with the still rich life force it conceals. Just a little further, another inch and the two forces will touch.
There's another, shocking roar, an ice cold and ripping pulse of darkness, and then everything goes black.
Author's Note: This, more or less, begins the endgame. All the elements are in place, a majority of the information the audience needs is out in the open, and the kids are just about ready to roll hard and fast. Mind you, there's still a great chunk of work left for me, but just brace yourselves for the plot train. Next chapter we find out what the hell just happened, and Glynda starts hedging her bets.
