Oof, been a while for this fic, hasn't it? One chapter cut short due to illness and the next skipped due to a death in the family. I'd say it's been a shit month, but I think we all know it's just been a shit year!
Cover Art: Mystery White Flame
Chapter 80
"The lower floors have been completely annihilated," Yang said proudly, covered in soot but wearing the largest smile Ruby had ever seen on her. "Not a single piece of furniture stands."
"No Relic where I was looking," Ruby said.
"I destroyed the spare bedrooms." Weiss reported. "No luck."
"I…" Blake lifted her arm and looked down with no small confusion at the floating Seer repeatedly nudging itself into her side, under her left armpit. Its floating head kept bobbing toward and bouncing off her. "I appear to have made a friend…?"
"It's attacking you actually," Cinder replied distractedly.
"I don't feel very threatened…"
The Seer floated back, took a run up and then gently bobbed forward again to bump into Blake's side with all the force of a rubber ducky in a bathtub. It turned out that a creature that looked like a balloon floating on a column of limp tendrils didn't have much in the way of combat ability. Angrily, or so Ruby assumed, it tilted its round head and rubbed itself Blake's hip, going for the slow erosion strategy that would, over thousands of years, reduce Blake to dust.
"This is Salem's abode," Cinder explained. "It's where she kept us, and where she kept any other human assistants she had before us. If she let the place be overrun by Beowolves and Ursa, it would be a constant battle. To say nothing of them mindlessly running into and through doors, knocking over furniture and smashing plates. So, she made a type of Grimm that could assist her in the home but also achieve only minimal damage."
"Wow. Is it weird that I never thought of that?"
"Not really. Why would anyone consider the home economics of Grimm?"
Only Salem, it turned out. Ruby couldn't quite resist coming over to poke the Seer's head. It was spongy and dry despite looking like it was covered in slime. Much like a balloon, her gentle prodding sent it tumbling away, until, with a violent sway of its tendrils, it righted itself and continued the endless assault on her teammate.
Would it be offensive to everyone who ever died to Grimm to say she found it cute? Cooing, she rubbed its head with two hands, unknowing if it liked the attention or could even perceive it but amusing herself all the same.
"If Salem were here then you can rest assured they would report to her and then we would be in serious trouble." Cinder said. "As it is, we're still in trouble. The variety in which we haven't found the Relic."
"There's still the upper floors to wreck," Yang said.
Everyone looked at her.
"Check. I said check," she lied. "We have the upper floors to check."
Ruby didn't dare giggle and stuck with snuggling the Seer against her chest instead. Yang having free rein to just smash and wreck whatever she wanted was probably the best thing that had ever happened to her, especially with them being so worried about things back home. That didn't mean they weren't on a clock, though. Every day that went by without the Relic being found was another day where Vale had to defend itself against an army of Grimm. If it wasn't for Weiss explaining she'd only miss details and put people at risk if she was tired, that kept Ruby from staying up all night searching.
"I thought I knew Salem better than this." Cinder said. "I've checked everywhere she normally keeps things. Her room, her private room, her relaxing room, her temper tantrum room."
"Temper tantrum-?"
"-and nothing. It's not like her. Salem never feels the need to hide things, so this place doesn't exactly have secret rooms or hidden compartments. What you see is what you get."
"Maybe it wasn't her who hid it," Weiss suggested.
Cinder rounded on her. "What?"
"Salem knows you betrayed her to join our side, so maybe she thought you'd know all the places she might hide it. What if she gave it to someone else to hide instead?"
"The Relic of Destruction? It's an all powerful artifact with the potential to destroy anything. Not her, of course, but it could destroy this tower and leave her homeless. I very much doubt she would leave it in the hands of someone who might use it to betray her. Hazel is a fine example. If she gave him a weapon capable of that, he'd go running right to Beacon to try and use it on Ozpin."
"But Ozpin is already dead," Weiss said.
"Sure. Why not?" Cinder waved a hand. "Watts would have run away with it, no doubt and Tyrian… Tyrian…" Cinder trailed off, groaned and cupped her face in her hands. "Tyrian hid it. She gave it to that psychotic moron to hide, knowing he'd never betray her because he was dropped on his head as a child."
That didn't sound like a good motivation to go and be evil, but hey, what did she know? As far as she could tell, most of Salem's lot didn't have what you'd call `the best reasons` to turn as they were. Not that there was any justification for being evil, but you could sort of understand some, like Adam. People who initially had noble goals but who lost their way.
Hazel just blamed Ozpin for his sister's death when said sister was a huntress. Uh, that'd be like her blaming the fallen headmaster for her mom's death. Watts was just some weird mad doctor banished from Atlas who then decided to throw logic out the window and join the Grimm because… convenience? Honestly, she didn't know. Tyrian just sounded like he was a nutcase and Cinder, well, whatever reasons she joined for obviously weren't very good considering how quickly she changed sides. It wasn't a big deal, but it made her wonder if she wasn't one dropped cookie away from committing genocide herself.
"So, we need to look in the kinds of places a madman would hide something." Yang said. "Any ideas, Cinder? You're a few apples short of a basket yourself."
"I am perfectly sane, thank you."
"Heh. Jaune Arc love pillow."
The woman flushed bright red and snarled at Yang. "M-Moving on, there's no understanding that cretin's thought process. It could be anywhere, and that means our best bet is to continue as we have been. We shall have to check his room, though. I don't care how morbid you find it, I refuse to turn this tower upside down and then discover its in his wardrobe and none of us dared look. Ahem. I'm not doing it."
"Shotgun not."
"Not."
"Not."
"Not!" Ruby cried, far too late. "Damn it!"
"Well, that's decided. Rose, check his bedroom tonight. Watch out for… well, watch out for his eccentricities. And Belladonna, do try and wake up not looking like death warmed over this time."
"Wake up not looking like death," Blake mimed sarcastically, the Seer once more batting her back now that it had slipped out of Ruby's grasp. "You try being kept up all night and see how you feel." Growling, Blake slapped her hand out behind her. "Buzz off!"
The Seer spiralled through the room and out the nearest window where it… didn't so much plummet to its death as slowly float off in the soft breeze, riding the winds away toward Vacuo like some mildly passive-aggressive weather balloon.
"Seer, no!" Ruby cried. "Aww. I wanted to take it home."
"Ruby, no." Yang said.
"I named it Drei and everything..."
/-/
"I tell you right now, Ozpin," General Ironwood said. "If it wasn't out of fear Oscar might feel it, I would beat you until you were a pulp of sentient flesh yearning for its own demise."
"And I'd hole him down," Glynda threatened.
"James, Glynda, please." Ozpin chuckled nervously. "It was relationship counselling. It would have defeated the point had I come in and lied, no? It is better to take these things seriously and be honest."
"Does that include the litany of insults aimed at your very dangerous ex-wife?"
"You're taking her side now?"
"I'm taking the side of the person with a huge army!" Ironwood bellowed. "It's a downright miracle Arc was able to convince her to stay and continue this. You might have lost us any chance of getting out of this peacefully."
"Ahem." Ozpin looked up proudly. "I had complete faith in him."
Glynda and Ironwood made strangling motions with their hands, spitting and frothing at the mouth. Jaune might have stepped in to help if he wasn't busy accepting a head massage from Neo, all but necessary given how his head was pounding after the relationship counselling session. And he'd thought teenage angst was a problem. Sheesh, at least teenagers made sense! The degree of animosity between divorced couples, if Salem and Ozpin were any indication, had him feeling sorry for every relationship counsellor everywhere.
In theory, though, they'd done well. Salem and Ozpin had gotten their anger out and – if the textbooks held true – it was only once the anger and grief was dealt with that productive conversation could occur. None had, of course, but he figured those two had a little more to work out than the average couple.
Since the session was over, the battle had begun anew. Jaune remained detached from that on General Ironwood's suggestion. It was better he focus on what he could actually do, not on things that would only distract him. From what he'd been told, it was going well. The daily breaks allowed a chance for the defenders to resupply, switch the guard and take stock of the situation, and that was worth more than any number of fresh recruits.
Salem knew that. It wasn't that she was stupid enough to not realise what she was allowing, but he got the feeling she just didn't care. That she was either so sure of her victory that she thought it didn't matter or, and it was a very real possibility, that she just didn't care about anything at all. That her motivation was at such an all-time low that victory or defeat had merged together in her head, that she'd make objectively bad decisions because she couldn't find anything to be excited about, or maybe even because she wanted to prolong this for the sake of distracting herself from the monotony.
Now I'm really reading into this, he thought. Or am I…? All those therapy books were going to his head. Salem's symptoms smacked of the depression he'd tagged her with before, but one of the first things he'd read was about confirmation bias and the danger of assuming too early, because anything could look like depression if you went in sure it was that. In the same way people could look at a health site, go through the lists of symptoms and convince themselves they were dying of Ligma.
Neo's fingers felt good in his hair, though. That was something he definitely wasn't imagining. He might have asked why she was being so nice at any other point in time, but he'd just sat between an immortal Grimm witch and her possessed shota ex-husband.
He fucking deserved pampering.
"Are you going to take Ozpin out again tomorrow?" Ironwood asked him, far less sure of the fact he was speaking to someone melting into a puddle of goo in his seat.
"Hmm. I think so." Jaune said happily. "Can't let up the pressure."
"Is pressure what she needs?"
"You're asking the fake therapist, you realise. I have no idea."
"You're all we have."
"Then I think it is." Jaune hummed a little as Neo tilted him forward and rubbed her thumbs up the back of his head. "I think it's… how do I say? She's angry. Really fucking angry."
"Yes. The fact she has been waging eternal war on humanity would suggest that."
"No, that's not it. She's been waging eternal war on Ozpin. The only reason humanity is involved is because he sided with us."
"Are you saying it's my fault?" Ozpin asked. "That I should have left you be?"
"I meant you sided with them before you broke up," he said, and Ozpin made an understanding sound, calming down. "When she killed you and her children died, she wanted vengeance on you and knew you'd come back, but then and there, she had no one to vent on. What do you do if you hate someone that much and they're not around to hurt?"
"I seek help," Glynda said.
"If you're driven to the point of grief-induced madness, I mean. It's a hypothetical question. Think in extremes."
"I destroy everything he has ever taken pride in."
"Ironwood gets it!" Jaune said, pointing toward the man's voice. "Obviously, we don't do stuff like that, but I bet if you look hard enough there are cases like this all the time. Smaller things, obviously, but people throwing their partner's belongings out the window, damaging their favourite things, even psychos wanting to get their own back by hurting them."
"It does happen," Ozpin said. "To say nothing of the criminally insane who will hurt or even kill people based on this. Jealous exes, murderous ex-lovers and custody battles over children that have, in cases, ended in death of one party or the other." He let out a long and painful sigh. "It makes sense. A normal person in that situation might have been paralysed by grief or shock on killing me, but she knew I wasn't really dead. That must have felt to her like I'd escaped my rightful punishment, and so she decides to punish me in another way, by striking out at something I love and take pride in."
"It all comes down to anger in the end. And maybe the whole infected by Grimm juice, or whatever happened to her, is fuelling it. Either way, if she has anger to burn, I say we help burn it off. Productively."
"Hence the shouting." Ironwood mused. "I see. It is far more productive a way to vent than murder. Dangerous, though. Her temper has failed her before, and she could lash out at any point. You realise that, don't you? If she wishes it, even in anger, you will die before we can help you."
Jaune Arc smiled bitterly. Of course he realised it. He was out there with nothing more than a parasol and a plate of cakes to keep him safe from a horde of Grimm. But then, the danger would be there one way or another, wouldn't it? There was no escaping it now.
"We're all facing death, Ironwood. I'm no braver than anyone else here."
"That is true, but you're basing your life on your ability to bullshit your way through the therapy of an immortal queen. You're balancing atop a house of cards. What happens if it comes tumbling down?"
He could have laughed. "It's hardly the first time I've dealt with that."
/-/
"Hazel." Salem said. "You're troubled."
The giant of a man grunted in a way that could have meant anything. It was his posture which gave him away, his stiff shoulders and disappointed glower that, while not aimed at her, was a new occurrence all the same. Normally, she wouldn't have cared for it either way, but there was precious little else to do while her Grimm threw themselves at the walls of Vale.
To think she'd waited all this time for this moment only for it to be so dull. The Grimm charged, they died, they charged anew, they died. It was a cycle as old as her, and even though some of the humans would inevitably fall in the defence, it didn't do anything for her. Far from the excitement and glory she'd anticipated for so long, all she had was an army of mindless brutes doing her bidding because she just so happened to have thrown herself in the Pools of Darkness. It wasn't even earned servitude and there was no challenge to keep it interesting.
Oddly enough, she found herself wishing she hadn't ended the meeting with Jaune of Arc and Ozma short. As angry as she'd been, at least it had been refreshing to shout in Ozma's face. Embarrassing to do so in front of someone a hundredth her age, but exhilarating, like screaming at the top of your lungs without a care for what people might think.
"Talk, Hazel. I don't speak the language of grunt."
"You had Ozma right there. Why did you let him walk away?"
"What would you have had me do? Kill him?" Hazel grunted again, though this one was easier to understand with the nod that accompanied it. "That wouldn't have stuck. You know that. Ozma would have inhabited a new body, so the only one I'd be killing is a young child. I thought you were against needless casualties?"
"It would be sparing him the far worse fate of having his mind consumed."
"Ah, so it's alright to kill children if there is worse awaiting them. I see. Then I should make sure to round up all the children in Vale and slit their throats before the Grimm reach them, no?"
Hazel flinched, mouth opening and closing a moment later. Salem rolled her eyes. She hadn't really meant it that way and there'd be no children in Vale bar the one Ozma was inhabiting anyway. She was just bored and snapping at the first person to get on her nerves.
Not that he didn't deserve it. Hazel, while useful, was such a one minded and hypocritical man. Someone who claimed to be against unnecessary violence should never have joined with her in the first place, and the fact he'd suggest she throw aside her honour to kill someone under the flag of truce was insulting.
She didn't care about honour, of course. Silly machismo nonsense used to make people feel better so they could slap their chests and howl that they were better than other people, but she also didn't need to lower herself to defeat Ozma, so why should she? All that would happen is that these meetings would end, the siege would continue, and she'd have no pleasant distractions in the middle of the day to offer some welcome relief.
"You promised me Ozma's head…"
"And I am besieging Vale, am I not?" she snapped, waving her hand at the city's walls. "If you are so desperate for a crack at him, join the next assault and scale the wall yourself."
Hazel remained silent, but he'd already opened the floodgates and by the Brother Gods, she'd kept her thoughts to herself for too long.
"You may as well, as useless as you and Tyrian have been. It was Cinder who killed the Fall Maiden and Cinder who collected the Relic of Knowledge, albeit she lost it. You failed to gain the Relic of Creation, you failed to capture Ozma and you failed to kill Jaune Arc. I'm the one who attacked Shade and took the Relic of Destruction. I'm the one who gathered an army of Grimm and came here. I'm the one attacking Vale. I'm the one doing everything, and if that's the case then I begin to question why I keep you around at all." Sneering at him, she added, "It's certainly not for the conversation. I could get more eloquent commentary from a baby mumbling its first words!"
He stood, stunned. Salem rolled her eyes. Stupid man. Why did she surround herself with such idiots? At least Watts and Cinder did things. Hazel complained every time she wanted to attack a city, then turned around and complained when she didn't kill a fourteen year old child. If he wanted Ozma dead so badly, he should do something about it himself.
"Go find Tyrian," she said dismissively. "Ask yourself what it is you want, Hazel, because I'm doing what I promised you and your ridiculous complaints are getting on my nerves. Go! I lack the patience."
He bowed stiffly and departed, all square shoulders and stomping feet, seven foot baby that he was. This is what I get for basing my recruitment on physical prowess, she thought. Not sure what I was thinking. I have the Grimm as limitless muscle. Why would I need more?
Cinder really had been the best of her minions. Ambitious, vicious, other words ending with -ious. Those were the best adjectives, really. No one useful was ever described as `nice`, were they? Cinder had known what she wanted and was willing to lie, cheat and murder her way to it. You had to admire that level of dedication.
Someone like Jaune Arc would have been a useful tool, too. A genuinely interesting one to have around. Ah, she could just imagine him and Cinder arguing and competing against one another. It would have been cute in its own way, like watching two children vie for their mother's attention. Then, she could have sat back and let them handle things in her stead, satisfied with the silent peace and quiet of the Grimmlands.
Wasn't it time for another meeting yet? Salem checked Tyrian's scroll, having demanded it from him. She had never needed to communicate with people and didn't now, but she'd also never owned a wristwatch and needed some means of checking the time.
22:46.
It wasn't even the end of the day!? Frustration pooled inside her, momentarily turning to anger and causing her to lift the scroll up to throw before she thought twice. Tyrian couldn't exactly pop into the closest shop to get her another. That meant there was still fourteen hours until her next chance to chat with an actual intelligent person. It was closer to their last meeting than it was the next!
All she had for company was a sulky man-child, an insane moron and legions of mindless creatures throwing themselves at a cold and unyielding wall. To make matters worse, she didn't even need to sleep. Never had since she fell into the pools. The cracked moon rose high in the sky, and Salem could only sit there and watch the unending cycle of assault, die, assault, die, assault, die.
It ground on her. It ground away deep in her soul, wearing away her patience, her mood and even her sense of self. Is this all she had? Is this all it would ever be? One long and boring slog? Repetition, over and over, for all eternity? How lucky the Grimm were, able to exist in such a brief and powerful life, a short existence of anger and rage snuffed out so brightly.
No. This couldn't be all there was, and this couldn't be the best moment of her life. If it was, then her life wasn't an existence worth having. Salem stood, eyes burning. It was time for a change.
It was time for something new.
/-/
"On the walls!" Winter Schnee yelled, crashing through the door and into the command centre with ashen skin and wide eyes. "She's made it onto the walls!"
General Ironwood cursed. "The Grimm have formed a pocket!? Divert the Ace-Ops to-"
"No!" Winter screeched. "She is on the walls! Salem is on the wall!"
Jaune, Glynda, Roman and Ironwood all exchanged panicked looks before rushing to General Ironwood's terminal. He didn't complain as they bunched around and all over him, Neo even jumping on Ironwood's back to peer over his shoulder. He tapped wildly onto the keyboard, bringing the cameras online that had been set up to monitor all aspects of the defence. Flicking through them quickly, Ironwood muttered, "Come on, come on" as he searched.
There, on the west wall. Jaune's mouth dropped open when he saw it. A single person dressed in black armour that honestly looked like something out of a fantasy artist's rendition of a black knight, stood a figure wielding a large two-handed sword with what he could only call a lack of any real skill.
The `knight` lumbered forward and swung at a defender, who backpedalled away and shot back with some gun-sword combo. Several of the bullets ricocheted off, but one absolutely did punch through her breastplate, for all the damage it did. Salem kept coming, swinging left and right, over-extending massively and all in all, doing very little damage in the grand scheme of things.
"That's… not as threatening as I expected," Roman said. "I could beat that."
"Skilled or not, she's technically unkillable," Ironwood said gravely. "All she needs to do is create a diversion long enough that the Grimm can scale up behind her. The huntsmen can't focus on them if she's attacking from behind."
Jaune swallowed. "I'm going out there."
"I shall come with," Glynda said. "Neo as well. Roman, stay here with James and try to command people back to position. We will try and draw her away so they can get back to the defence."
The three of them ran out the centre and onto the streets of Vale, then turned toward the west wall, running by the medical building guarded by Beacon students just in case any of the thrown Grimm survived the landing and might threaten the wounded. Other students were busy transporting weapons, food and injured to and from the front lines, and they all made way for their headmaster and his deputy, letting them race up the emergency staircases on the main walls.
By the time they reached the top even Glynda was panting for breath, which meant he was gasping and wishing he was dead. The walls of Vale were not short at all, and there had to have been forty flights of stairs at least. With the constant attacks, however, the elevators were being saved for emergency only, usually taking injured people down or heavy equipment up.
On the wall itself, the scene wasn't much better than it had been on the camera. The black knight continued to lunge at any huntsmen who tried to get close, and they had to because Grimm were starting to crest the wall. So far, the weight of fire aimed at them was enough to topple them off, but the situation would only get worse.
Meanwhile, Salem had a spear sticking out her back, a sword embedded in her knee and enough bullet holes in her armour for it to look like cheese. None of those stopped her pointing her massive sword at him and saying, "The Black Knight approaches."
"Salem. Is that you under there?"
The knight placed her sword down and leant on the pommel, then flipped the front part of her helmet up. Under it, the pallid woman wore a strangely smug grin. "Good evening, Jaune of Arc."
"What are you doing!?"
"Indulging myself. I realised how dreadfully boring it is sitting there watching the Grimm do all the work. If this is to be my final victory, it shall not be one I win sitting around doing nothing."
"Are you seriously doing this because you're bored!?"
"Why does anyone do anything? Boredom is a powerful motivator." Salem let the helmet fall shut again. "En garde, knave. I… hang on." The armour clanked as she turned around. "Is there something in my back?"
Jaune pointed weakly. "A spear…"
"I thought I felt heavy!" Her arm reached back but the armour prevented her getting hold. "Ungh. Gh. Do a woman a favour and pull it out, won't you?"
Silently, Glynda waved her crop. The spear twisted and yanked out with a horrifying screech of twisted metal and a howl of pain from Salem. It floated in the air, tip bloody. Hesitantly, a huntress raised her hand and Glynda sent it floating gently back to her.
"I said pull it out," Salem grumbled. "Not yank. No matter, I feel better already. Hm?" Leaning down, she dragged the sword out her leg and tossed it over her shoulder. "This whole armour business is ridiculous. How does anyone fight with all this weighing you down?"
"I… uh… I think it's because they trade manoeuvrability for survivability…"
"Huff. Well, let's get on with it then." Salem drew a foot back and brought her huge sword up. It really was ridiculous, straight out of one of Ruby's videogames and bigger than anyone realistically needed a weapon to be. It wouldn't so much cut a man in two as crush them. "I will do glorious battle upon this day. You may all attack me at once if you wish. It won't mean much."
It would. It would mean none of those huntsmen could defend the wall. Jaune swore as another Beowolf crawled over. It was shot dead quickly enough, but this was now the weakest part of the defence.
"Can't we solve this diplomatically!?" he cried.
"Not until noon tomorrow. Those are the rules of our truce. Now, come, all of you. Entertain me for a moment-"
"Jaune of Arc challenges you!" Glynda called out.
Salem pulled her helmet up excitedly. "He does?"
"He does!?" Jaune echoed, staring at Glynda with a gobsmacked expression. "Jaune of Arc does not remember challenging her!"
"Jaune of Arc's memory is faulty," Glynda said. "He challenges you, Salem, to an honourable duel upon this day. A one on one battle free from distraction or interference."
To let the Huntsmen get back to defending the wall! He nodded, jumping on the plan and drawing Crocea Mors. "Nothing short of a one on one duel will suffice for grand leaders such as we," he waxed, relying on his limited knowledge of period movies. "Two knights locked in battle as tradition decrees."
"Tradition? Oh yes!" Salem slapped one gauntleted fist into her other hand, leaning the sword against her chest. "I remember Ozma doing this all the time. I always thought it some dramatic display from men with fragile egos. I always did wonder what the appeal was. Ahem. Very well! The Black Knight accepts your challenge, Jaune of Arc. We shall cross blades this day. Prepare yourself!"
"Not here." Jaune said quickly, making Salem lower her weapon. He coughed and put on his voice again. "Too many are those who might distract or interfere, to say naught of the mindless Grimm. Let us away to the forests of Beacon-"
"Ahem." Salem coughed. "The forests of where?"
"Ugh. Let us away to the Forests of Ozma Sucks for our fated battle. There, outside the academy, shall we cross our swords."
Away from the wall, away from the Grimm and away from any innocent bystanders. Away from her reinforcements, too, which would stop anyone with a functioning brain from accepting. Or it would have if there was any actual risk to Salem as a person. Being immortal, she had nothing to fear from walking alone into the middle of a war, hence her coming up to fight for fun.
"Very well, Jaune of Arc. Lead on."
Just a note here that there won't be a chapter in two weeks. There will next week, but the Thursday after (29th October) I have to present a business conference via Zoom. It will only take two hours, but it's an important one for the IoD and I need to prepare, do a rehearsal, make sure everything is up and running, etc. Will take all day.
I'll remind people of it next week as well.
Next Chapter: 22nd October
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur
