I forgot to give credit, but the stand up comedian sketch lines used last chapter were from Dylan Moran. On a note, I'm really sorry that this chapter is going to be very short, but I've been told I need to go into hospital to have my eyes looked at with the equipment there. Aside from needing to go in at 3:30pm and thus not having as much time, I didn't sleep much last night due to worrying over it. Not a fan of visiting the hospital, even if most times I go it's nothing overly serious.

Actually, it only ended up 700 words shorter than the average I aim for when all was said and done.


Cover Art: Mystery White Flame

Chapter 85


Raven Branwen ripped her blade from the throat of a Gryphon, watching with grim satisfaction as it toppled down atop the wall, collapsing before her might and skill. Idly, she flicked her sword to the side to clear it of filth and glanced across the wall, seeking the biggest foe she could. The thickest fighting. The maddest melee. It was all she could do to avoid him – and even then, it didn't last for long. Before she could even hope of escaping, he found her.

"Are Ruby and Yang still alive?"

"Yes."

"Are Ruby and Yang safe?"

"Yes."

"Are Ruby and Yang-"

"Taiyang!" Raven bellowed. "If you ask that one more time, I will find the biggest, roughest strap on I can find and recreate our wedding night in excruciating detail. You will not walk for weeks!"

"What's your deal? I'm just worried about my girls. One of them is yours, you know."

"I am aware of Yang's parentage. It was I who had to squeeze her out."

Taiyang pouted. "I was there. I helped."

"You held my hand, trembled and told me to breathe."

"Hey. It was scary…"

"You did not have the right to be afraid! I was the one with a miniature human crawling its way out of my body." Raven growled, wishing she could be slicing her way through a Grimm's body at that very moment. "Is there a purpose to this hounding, Taiyang? I thought we agreed that what we had was over."

"I don't remember an agreement. I remember you running away."

That was close enough. The strong did not have to deal on equal terms, and by escaping him she had not only proven she had the strength to make that decision herself, but that he was too weak to have a say in stopping her. It didn't prove Yang weak – Raven would not judge a babe unable to move or speak – but staying to coddle the child would have only led to it. Besides, Yang was strong now. So powerful that she had been entrusted a mission to decide the fate of Remnant. Was that not proof her tribe's ways bred strong warriors?

Taiyang might have argued she could have been stronger with Raven's love and tutelage, but how could that be? Yang had exceeded despite not having there. That made her strong. Independent. Self-sufficient. Raven was not one to feel pride often, but she felt it now. Her daughter had grown strong, and it was through no merit but her own.

As it should be.

"Should Yang be in danger, I will open a portal to her," Raven said. "And since she will die before she lets Summer's brat come to harm, you can assume that the fact I am still here means they both live. Now, if you don't mind, I have better things to do than cater to your stupidity."

"You do…? What?"

Raven cringed. Vale was under attack, Salem was here, and the world teetered on the balance of strong men and women. There should be something for her to do. There should be no time for distractions like this. Instead, Salem was down there getting read to have tea with Ozpin's replacement, and the Grimm were being almost lazy in their offence, half-heartedly attacking the walls and going through the motions.

What the hell is going on around here? You told me there was no hope of defeating her, Jinn. You didn't tell me she was a useless, whiny girl who could be won over with free scones and comedy boxsets.

Oh, she knew they'd asked how to beat her and not how to stop her, but a spirit of knowledge given life to aid mortals like her could have afforded to be a little less anal about the specific language used. She was the Spirit of Knowledge for fucks sake. She knew what Raven had meant.

"I am maintaining my concentration on my bond with Yang," she lied. "Your distractions will only cause me to slip and miss her being in danger. That is far more important than putting up with your shenanigans."

"Sounds like you're afraid you'll lose our little bet."

Lose!? Raven laughed. "Really now? I have already killed one hundred and sixty Grimm. What are you at, Taiyang? Twenty? Forty?"

He put on that smug grin she'd threatened to kill him for wearing after their first time and planted his hands on his hips. "Four hundred and twelve."

"Bullshit."

"Nope. Confirmed kills."

"How?" she demanded. "That's not possible!"

"Heh. Let's just say I totally didn't pay off the soldiers running one of those artillery canons from Atlas. And that they totally don't calculate the exact number of targets killed by their shells." He mimed a finger gun pointing out over the horde. "Boom."

"That's cheating!"

"I thought cheating was an excuse for the weak?"

Raven bit her tongue and growled. Nothing stung so much as having her own words thrown back at her. "F-Fine. I haven't even begun to tap into my power as the Spring Maiden. Four hundred? A pittance. I've been going easy on you so far, only using my sword. That changes now!"

"What was that? Sorry. Can't hear you over the fact you're losing. Sorry. Come talk to me later when you're not such a weakling." He strutted away pompously. Or tried. Before he fully left, he looked back over his shoulder and asked, "Are Yang and Ru-"

"They are fine!"

"Okay! Okay! Sheesh. I was only asking."

"Go climb up another tree, Taiyang. There's always Sienna. I hear she's into whips and being penetrated by whiny, egotistical men with relationship problems. Though I think she prefers redheads who do it."

"You're a piece of work, Raven."

"A piece of art, you mean. Now excuse me." Pushing past him, her eyes glowed as wind and fire rushed around her fingertips. "I have four hundred Grimm to kill before that monster's next therapy session. I will not lose to someone as weak as you."

"Isn't that what you said about dating me, sleeping with me and then marrying me? You always did lose in the end, Ray."

"I won't lose this time."

/-/

"Oscar. Do you mind if I have a quick chat with Ozpin?"

The boy looked up at Jaune before smiling and nodding. He sat down and closed his eyes, and when they opened again there was a certain calmness to them that was unnatural in the eyes of one so young.

"Jaune," Ozpin said. "Is there something you wished to ask? About Salem, I suppose. It is near time for you to go meet with her again. You still won't tell me what it is she spoke to you of alone in her tent…"

"And I won't. I promised her it would remain private."

"Hm." Ozpin didn't agree but did accept it. "Very well. Ask your questions."

"Do you ever find yourself tempted to just collect the Relics, summon the Brother Gods and let them end it?"

"No."

The quick answer surprised him. "No? Just like that?"

"Just like that, Mr Arc. If you are worried she might do that, then don't. Our lives were ruined by the Brother Gods. I would not give them the satisfaction of calling them back, and you may rest assured that Salem is ten times as petty as I. Mindless insanity would be preferable to seeing them again."

That was a relief. It hadn't occurred to him until he was in bed last night, Neo using him as a pillow, that highlighting the nightmarish future that awaited Salem might push her to try and end it all now. Once the idea struck, he couldn't rid it from his mind. Whether or not the Gods decided she'd `learned her lesson` or whatever their goal was, she would be killed. If that was what she wanted, then it was win-win for her whatever happened to Remnant. Since the Relic of Destruction would hopefully be coming back as well, he didn't want to chance it.

"Don't worry so much. You're the first to try and look at her as anything other than a monster. Even I had forgotten that she was once my wife. It's hard to think back on those times but Salem was never an unreasonable person. Even after she fell into the Grimm pools, she remained herself for many decades."

"Do you wish you could still be together?"

"In a sense. I wish we had never parted, I wish our children were still alive, but I do not think she and I could come back together now, nor would I want us to. We have separated. Our love for one another has faded. I think it would be unwise to try and force it to return."

That must be what children of divorced parents had to learn, that there was no happy way to bring two people who had fallen out of love back together. "Do you think it's possible for you to fall in love again?"

"Is that a proposition, Mr Arc?" Jaune blanched, but Ozpin quickly laughed. "I'm jesting. Don't worry. Is it a possibility? I will not say no. I've not had any other partners myself, but then I have been unduly busy all my years. If the war were to end, I think I might pursue the possibility. It would be… complicated with my nature, however. Sharing my mind with someone else. Salem would not have the same problem if that is what you are suggesting. Her concern would be more toward a spouse dying of old age." Ozpin paused, and then had to ask, "Is that your plan? To get her hitched?"

It was an idea. He couldn't tell if it was a good or bad idea, but it was certainly an idea. It sure as hell wasn't going to be his father he offered up for it, though. Maybe Ironwood. Couldn't happen to a better person.

"I'm trying to think up happy endings for her. Things I can lay out as possibilities for her future if she lets go of her `destroy everything` plan and settles down. I guess I'll take the idea of her making up and moving back in with you off the list."

"For the best."

The time for the next session was approaching and the Grimm were already beginning to back away from the walls. The Huntsmen and Huntresses switched the guard, while teams of engineers worked to repair the Atlesian equipment stationed on them.

While that all took place, and while Beacon's students shifted the injured around, brought fresh ammunition and helped clear the streets of lingering Grimm, the gates were opened for Headmaster Jaune Arc to walk out alone once more. People stared but were used to it by now, and while there had to be questions, no one was as shocked as they once had been. Even Lisa Lavender had stopped recording the moments, saving her time for much more viewership-drawing battles.

Every day we drag out is a day closer to Salem getting bored. Jaune couldn't believe that was a victory condition – that you could bore your opponent into giving up. Only for Salem. He waited, flask of coffee under one arm, notepad held in the other hand. It was her turn to bring food, though where she got it from out here, he didn't know. The Grimm stared at him menacingly. Though they were held back, their murderous intent was still apparent. Salem could control them, but she couldn't change their nature.

They parted before the white tent again, and Salem emerged in her long, black dress. There was little to show of the extra crate of wine he'd arranged to be winched down the wall last night, little to show of the lack of sleep or her problems, either. Salem was either an expert on hiding both or her regeneration simply removed the symptoms that made them obvious.

Symptoms exist to tell us when something is wrong. Treating them doesn't fix the problem that caused them in the first place.

"Salem." Jaune greeted her politely. "How are you?"

"Well," she returned, cracking her neck to the side. "Your… unhealthy advice about the wine helped. I drank heavily, slept well and woke more refreshed than I have been for a long time." If only alcohol poisoning worked like that for everyone. "I had time to think. In so far as one can think while so much alcohol runs through your body."

"Did you decide on anything?" he asked.

"I have decided that allowing Ozma to live in my head is a fate I cannot accept. I have decided that there are… certain things humans can offer. Material things, admittedly, but when you are destined to live as long as I, all things big or small become important."

Jaune's excitement mounted. "Then you'll call off the attack?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I did not say that."

"But-"

"I said that humans have merits to their survival. Not all humans. I will let some live, that much I have decided. As for how many… that is yet to be determined. You would have me spare everyone. Tell me why I should. Give me a reason to want to spare these people."

Because killing them was evil? Because it was pointless? Because it made no sense!? All those things might be good arguments on a human or faunus with their normal morals, but Salem was neither. He had to remember she lived an altogether different existence. But she is reasonable, he thought. Ozpin said as much, and he knows her best.

"There are… I think they're called economies of scale. More humans means more creative ones, which means more chance of better movies, TV programs, books and artwork for you to enjoy. Less of all means less of all of them, and the quality could drop. That applies to everything from entertainment to food, electronics and even beer. It'll also mean a higher chance of Ozma being dropped into your head one day."

"Leaving half of humanity alive should be enough to counter that. I could still take my pleasure destroying Vale, the Kingdom Ozma calls home."

"But if you do that then you're cutting your chances of finding a future in half!"

Salem raised an eyebrow. "And what does that mean?"

"Well, let's assume a world in which we come to an agreement. One where we all make peace and decide to end the war between you and Ozma. It's hypothetical," he said quickly.

Salem closed her mouth and hummed for him to continue.

"Now, in this new world where you've discovered the entertaining things humanity has to offer and want to make your eternal existence more pleasant, there's not much point you sitting on your lonesome in your tower, is there?"

"You suggest I come out among humanity?"

"Sure. This whole secrecy thing makes sense in the case of a cold war, but it doesn't seem worth it in a world where you're not doing that. You should be out there having fun. Travelling. Experiencing new things. Meeting new people. Picking up hobbies, finding new goals and dreams to aspire to and maybe even meeting some people to call friends or more." He tried to drop the innuendo on the last without coming across too creepy.

He wasn't sure he succeeded.

"I… suppose there is merit to this hypothetical idea of yours. What of it?"

"Well, if you destroy half of humanity then that's half the places to visit. You lost out on Vale and its culture, its historical monuments, its nightlife and everything else. That might not seem like a lot, but when you're going to live forever, cutting away half the things you can do is going to have a big impact. It'll mean eventual boredom comes around twice as fast!"

"I'm aware how mathematics works. Thank you." Despite her snark, Salem looked unsure for the first time. "But I have dedicated my life to destroying Ozma and everything he created. If I back out now, then I will have lost all those centuries. Millenia, even. All that pain, all that loss. It will have meant nothing. It will have been meaningless."

"I don't think it will," Jaune said. "I think that the only time our actions are meaningless is when they don't lead us toward a conclusion we can be happy with. If someone wants to dedicate their life to love and has to go through six divorces, it'll all be worth it if they find the one they can truly love for the rest of their life. If someone wants to dedicate their life to playing computer games, it'll be worth it if it makes them feel fulfilled. The only way your life, your pain, ceases to have any meaning… is if you let it push you to an even darker, lonelier future where there is nothing but pain."

"How can you be sure this is any better?"

"I can't," he admitted. "But you can be. Try it."

"What?"

"Give it a test run." The idea was wild and random, and he ran with it. "Time doesn't mean anything to you – only consequences. So, try the approach that you haven't. You've experienced a thousand years working against Ozma in constant war. Maybe it's time to try a thousand living peacefully. See if that's better."

Salem laughed. "You just want me to spare your lives."

"Obviously. But that doesn't make the idea bad. If you try this and it doesn't work, you can go back to destroying humanity, but do it the other way round and you couldn't change your mind. There's no going back from finishing this war, Salem, so you'd best be one hundred per cent sure it leads to the end you want. With my idea, you can always change your mind down the line."

"A thousand years is too long. I would give it a hundred at best."

One hundred years. That was long enough to put the issue out his hands, but he could hope it might also be more. After all, how could she not find life like that more fulfilling than this shallow parody she lived at the moment? One hundred years might become two, three, ten and more. It might even last an eternity. If it lifted the siege, it was a victory for them.

"A hundred years is more than enough to prove to you how much better life can be, Salem. I promise you won't regret it."

"Such a promise is not yours to make, Jaune of Arc, but I will hold it to you all the same. It will not be peace. It will be a stay of execution, with the possibility for you and all your kind to extend the terms of parole. Provided I find your existence pleasing enough." Salem offered her hand. "Do we have an accord?"

Jaune reached out for her hand. "We have-"

An explosion rocked over the city, startling Jaune to his feet and causing Salem to slowly rise as well. Jaune turned, eyes widening at the sight of the thick plume of black smoke pooling up from the far side of the city – from Beacon. It was followed by a second, the blast erupting upward in yellowish fire and shining bright.

"What did you do!?" Jaune shouted. "What have you done?"

"Nothing." Salem said. "I have done nothing. The ceasefire is one that I have agreed to on my honour. The Grimm have all retreated as per our agreement."

A scroll buzzed loudly. Jaune's hand flew to his pocket but it wasn't his. Salem drew one out instead, a pitch black, matte scroll that she set upon the white table and activated. The face that appeared was grizzled, tanned and set into an angry snarl.

Salem narrowed her eyes. "Hazel. What is the meaning of this? Where are you."

"I am where you should be," the man replied angrily. "I am in Beacon. I am finishing this."

"Return to me immediately!"

"I will not, my Queen."

Salem sucked in a deep breath. "What is the meaning of this treachery? You would betray me!?"

"It is you who has betrayed me!" Hazel roared. "You swore to grant my vengeance. You promised me the death of Ozma and the destruction of the Academy that cost my sister her life. Yet you would deliver none!"

"Ozpin is dead, Hazel." Salem spat. "I gave you that. You know full well he cannot ever truly die. What are you doing now? Hunting his replacement? A child? Will you stoop so low as to kill every male child born on this planet on the chance it may be Ozma? Your dream is one that can never be achieved."

"It can be." Hazel offered a maddened smile and brought a single object onto the screen. Jaune and Salem both gasped as the Relic of Knowledge dangled from his fingers. "Oh, it can be. There are still two beings out there that can end him once and for all."

"They'll kill you as well!" Jaune shouted. "The Gods said they'd judge all humanity based on Salem! You're going to get everyone killed, yourself included!"

"I do not care, huntsman. Ozpin killed my sister. If I need to erase this world to put him down, I shall. Two of the Relics are already mine." He hefted the crown with his other hand. "I will finish this where you would give up, my Queen." He said the title mockingly. "And not you, Beacon or a legion of Grimm shall stop me."

"Then why," Salem snarled, "would you waste your time and the advantage of surprise by contacting and telling me all this? Or are my minions truly as worthless and stupid as I always thought you were?"

"I am giving you a chance. Kill Jaune Arc now, strike him down, and I will put the Relics down and return. I'll even let you kill me for betraying you. All you need do is kill him."

Kill him, and keep the war going. With him out the way there would be no more attempts at peace between Salem and Ozpin. People would think she'd abused his trust, bombed Beacon and then killed him in cold blood. No one would try to dig into it, let alone try for peace a second time. Jaune slid a foot back, ready to bolt. If Salem feared the Brother Gods half as much as Ozpin did, she might just kill him to avoid the possibility of their return.

"What am I to you, Hazel?" Salem asked. "What am I?"

"…" The man hesitated. "I don't know what you mean."

"Am I a Queen to you? Am I a monster? Or am I a Goddess as Tyrian sees me? What am I to you?"

"You are the Queen of the Grimm," he said uncertainly. "And someone I believed would understand my point of view. You have lost your family to him as well. You crave vengeance, too."

"I see." Salem nodded slowly. "And do you see me as a weak, snivelling, pathetic little worm of a creature, Hazel? Do you see me as someone who fears any man, woman or creature?"

"No…"

"Precisely." Salem rose, eyes burning red and veins standing out against her parchment skin. "I am Queen Salem!" she boomed, voice shaking the table. "I ruled this land before your greatest ancestors knocked sticks together to make fire. I decided the fate of nations when faunus did not even exist. I faced down the Gods when they were in their ascendancy! I waged war on the Brother Gods as a weak, fragile human – and I did that long before you could dream of even being a sperm shot out your father's balls!"

Salem flipped the table with a mighty crash, sending the scroll flying into the mud and dirt. Even so, Hazel could hear her voice as she shouted out.

"I fear no man! I fear no God! And I certainly do not fear you! There will be no deals!"

Hazel sighed. "Then this world – then Remnant – shall cease to exist."

"I encourage you to try." she said, laughing mockingly. "You could not gather even a single Relic while you were under my command, and that was with an army of Grimm at your back. I don't have faith in any minion of mine to collect all four."

Her foot crunched down on the scroll, silencing him.


Never underestimate how petty someone with a revenge complex can be.


Next Chapter: 10th December

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur