A/N: Update 6.
Scribbles
-falling-
Upon returning to Vale, Glynda was not expecting another storm to hit just as suddenly.
"Salem's forces found Amber," Ozpin explained quietly. "And they stole some of her power."
It took all of James' resources and wit to build a makeshift recovery chamber for the girl, giving her Aura the help she needed to at least begin the recovery process. They didn't know what she needed. She wouldn't wake up.
But, no matter what, it was clear- Salem's forces had begun to figure them out. The Maidens and the Relics were in danger, and they did not have enough resources, human or otherwise, to fight back.
It felt like they were losing.
Although everything was happening all at once, Glynda decided to report what she had learned to Ozpin anyways. "It's a threat not only to him, but to the entirety of their forces, apparently," she explained lowly in the shadows of his dark office. "We need to hunt him down."
Ozpin's face was grim, tense. "Glynda, I-"
"He might've been the first one to attack Amber."
"What?"
"The Aura. James' Semblance imprinted on his wrist- she could have seen the colour from that."
"It's too much of a stretch-"
"But not impossible."
"I'll send Qrow-"
"No."
"He should be prosecuted-"
She wouldn't listen. Instead, she explained her plan, filled out the paperwork for a short leave of absence, and went hunting for the Huntsmen responsible for bringing James so much pain.
And, after weeks of hunting down his tracks, Glynda did find him.
"You used your Semblance, didn't you?" she asked, one heel on his chest and her riding crop pressed against his face. "You mimicked his Semblance to get that writing to appear on your hand- on his hand. You tried to distract him with that marking. That's why it's tainted blue on you- it's tainted with your own Aura."
And Walter, all broken and bloody and bruised, no Aura left to spare, could only chuckle through the blood filling his lungs. "You… always were the smarter one, Glynda. The better professor, the better fighter," he said, oddly jovial through it all. "I don't know what you see in James."
"Enough nonsense. Why did you do it?"
"A job's a job. I like money."
She dug her heel into his chest, numbly processing the cry of pain it elicited. "That's it?"
"That's-" and he coughed, the pain evident, "-it."
"…Did you attack Amber, too?"
He snarled. "Damn bitch almost blew me to pieces. I knew James played a part in protecting her, but I… didn't think she'd be that strong."
"Do you have any idea what you could've done?!"
Coy, knowing brown eyes looked up at her through swollen bruised lids. "You always were sexier when you were angry, little Miss-"
"Don't call me that."
And she finished him off, bile rising in her throat. Mimicry was a filthy power after all.
And now, it was gone.
But then, in the wake of it all, it almost felt… empty. Like the whole encounter was an anticlimax after the years of distress and fear Walter had instilled in her during her youth, during those periods of time when she didn't know whether James would ever be okay again or not. Although she knew that, logically, finding out the truth would benefit all Academies, the mission still felt petty. Personal. She wasn't the composed, refined Huntress everyone thought she was.
And now, she had Walter Brown's blood on her hands, for better or for worse.
This all could've ended years ago, if only we'd known.
Maybe it was due to all of her years holed up in the classroom- she hadn't faced combat like this for years, but none of this felt right with her.
Yet, it was done.
That night, when she called James on the CCTS, he picked up weary and exhausted. But he was safe, and as he spoke, she lay her head down on her hotel bed's pillow and fell asleep to the sound of his voice. He was okay. They were all okay.
