Chapter Forty-Five: The Naivete of Youth
Ruby might've once coveted the chance to have a conversation like this with her friends: just a chance to gossip about boys, relationships, and the convergence thereof. Now the thought was tinged with regret, having missed so many chances -and so many signs- that might've meant she could share this talk with Weiss, Blake, and Yang… Penny was probably the only one of her friends who'd be less knowledgeable about boys and relationships than Ruby herself.
"So, Oscar was dating Yang, but now Yang is dating Blake, but Weiss is also interested in Oscar but thinks you had Oscar leave to go after Salem because you were also interested in him and she thought it was some kind of competition?" Penny neatly summarized.
Focused on the facts with none of the nuances. "Well… kinda? I guess I'm really just bothered that nobody told me that any of this was going on and I thought we weren't keeping any secrets from each other... but it turns out we all were."
"You not telling them how you felt about Oscar was also keeping a secret, wasn't it?" Penny reminded her.
Ruby had to concede the point, even though she wouldn't have quite phrased it that way. "Uh, yeah, but I didn't actually know that at the time…"
"How long does it take for you to know if you like someone?" Penny wondered.
"Well, I mean, I liked him right from the beginning, but I didn't think I liked him," Ruby attempted to explain. At Penny's blank stare, Ruby stammered out further detail. "Look, I didn't know, okay? All the other guys in my life I knew how I felt about and I thought it was the same for Oscar and I- I never thought that Yang and Weiss would get there first and I didn't know how to respond when they did."
"Wouldn't you have come to the same conclusion about how you felt even if you didn't know how Yang and Weiss felt?" Penny inquired.
Ruby sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I needed Weiss to say it first; maybe it just finally became… real when she did."
"Have you told her that?" Penny asked.
The obvious question. Ruby quickly dodged it. "I was more concerned about him going off to see Salem, I guess. I… I thought that was what he'd want me to do; that he'd talk to Weiss or Yang or whoever first. But I don't know and every time I try to tell them that I just fumble things worse."
"Do you really think they won't believe you?" Penny wondered. "Do they have any reason not to?"
"Things… people get weird about this sort of stuff," Ruby murmured. "Maybe that's why I haven't been able to get this right. I really thought I'd have had more time to get good at this, and not just… miss everything that went on in everybody else's lives because I never had a chance to experience this stuff with them.
"And I just feel bad that we couldn't talk to each other about it, and I don't know why we couldn't," Ruby bemoaned. "I kept telling Weiss that I'd be really happy for her if she ended up with Oscar, and I thought that she believed me and now that I know she doesn't anymore… ugh, it's just all so dumb and I don't know how we got here."
Penny nodded. "Well, clearly we need to fix this so you and Weiss can talk about boys without things… 'getting weird'."
"Uh… how?" Ruby incredulously wondered.
"Oscar's ship is on its way back here, according to the general," Penny pointed out. "Why don't you try letting him know you feel this way and letting him decide?"
There were a few too many absurdities in there for Ruby to process. Somewhere in the midst of the confusion, she managed a: "Wait, what?"
"Another one sacrificed at the altar of our war," Salem observed. "We do seem to go through them, don't we?"
Oscar's first instinct was to rush over to Neo's side; his body visibly jerked as he tried to move to her. Salem would see him do that, but he still had time to play it off and pretend he wasn't so concerned for the woman who'd (ostensibly) betrayed him.
The way Salem treated her own allies… he could claim his concern was simply compassion. If he betrayed his lingering affection for her, then Salem's suspicions would only mount. Salem wouldn't hesitate to kill her.
If she lived through that.
"I'm sorry you think so little of your followers," Oscar replied, trying once again to sound confident and magnify the sound of his disdain. Salem hadn't missed his motions, but could only speculate on their meaning… she was still appraising him, still watching him like a hawk as Neo lay still on the ground, still smoldering with wisps of black energy.
She gave a cough and a pained exhale. Oscar did his utmost to disguise his relief.
"Jinn, wasn't it?" Salem mused, holding up the lamp. She waited a few moments, staring at the dull glass… when nothing emerged, her expression soured. "Another lie, even at the expense of this poor girl's life. You're already just as ruthless as he is."
"I haven't lied to you," Oscar assured her. "Not since the moment I've been brought here/"
"Of course not," Salem scoffed. "You've done nothing but lie in every life save your first. After the gods misled you, you decided to learn from their example… a lie of omission is still a lie, boy."
"I told you about Jinn; I told you all the questions were used up," Oscar replied.
"Really now?" Salem wondered. "Well, what say we try something simple, then?" She waved her free hand over Neo, still struggling to find her breath on the floor. "You would've rushed in to save this one, hm? Merely because she took the form of your lover? Or was there something more?"
Salem had him on the spot now. She may not have immediately detected a lie, but if she later learned he'd attempted to deceive her right when he'd changed his plan and resolved to offer her some help…
"...I cared for her once," Oscar answered, thinking carefully. "I knew maybe I shouldn't have; she'd lied to me right from the beginning. But I merely thought she was lost and lonely and that maybe I could've helped her. I may have been fooled again… maybe I wanted to be fooled. I'm sorry this is where she ended up. She didn't deserve this."
"Oh?" Salem wondered. "And how many of us get what we deserve… Oscar, wasn't it?"
She remembered his name. A promising sign.
"You didn't," Oscar conceded. "And I don't know if Oz -or any of his lives- have had much chance to say it to you, but they've kept the relics away so you wouldn't call the brothers back."
Salem scoffed. "I could've surmised…"
"If they see Remnant as it is, how many of them will deserve to die?" Oscar asked her. "How many of them will you sacrifice just to thumb the god's eyes?"
"As many as I need to," Salem harshly replied. "What care I for the fate of the masses?"
"I remember four lives you wouldn't have been willing to trade," Oscar gently reminded her.
He saw Salem's grip visibly tighten around the lamp. Her confident facade began to chip away.
"...tread carefully, boy," Salem warned him. "Do you think I'll hesitate to kill you?"
"Yes," Oscar flatly replied. "Because unless you're willing to wait a hundred years for the lamp to answer you, you still need me. You've exposed your hand to James now and the Huntresses allied with him have told the rest of the world that you're here and that they can force you back. And if you keep trading your allies to try and make a point, you'll be completely alone when they stand against you."
Salem's fingers clenched into the metal frame of the relic. Soft wisps of steam radiated up from her eyes as the bloody red burnt with an intense flare.
"You are a clever one," Salem admitted. "But you would do well to learn how to speak to me in my house."
"You burnt your house to the ground," Oscar reminded her. "So you wouldn't have to remember where they slept… or where they walked."
Salem's grip became so tight the lamp slipped right from her fingers and clattered onto the floor. She reached over with both hands, hoisting Oscar up by his neck and bringing him to eye level, ensuring he could meet her gaze and see her clearly; incandescent with rage.
Once again, he had to try and be braver than he felt. And to breathe.
Salem's breath was hot on his chin. She muttered something, but in her rage the words were unintelligible. Oscar did his level best to maintain eye contact.
Salem eventually managed to recapture her composure, relaxing her grip and letting Oscar tumble back to the floor. He was grateful for the break to have his Aura successfully rebuilt…
Salem said nothing more to him, moving over to collect the relic, using her free hand to dust off her robes. She stood with her back to him, trying to get her breathing back to an even tempo.
Oscar turned his attention back to Neo. She too was breathing a bit better… she may have been in better shape than her assailant. She hadn't been reminded of her greatest failure.
Oscar crawled over to her, checking on her condition. Salem may well have turned and noticed this affection, this concern, this weakness… but she wouldn't see anything she could exploit. She'd be too busy being reminded only further.
Of the wizard showing tenderness and affection to a young woman… memories that burnt in the back of Salem's mind no matter how she tried to deny it.
Salem turned and left the room without a word. If she intended to utilize Neo in her plans any further, it seemed she was nonetheless willing to leave her imprisoned in the cell with him.
Oscar adjusted his position to sit cross-legged on the ground. He gently lifted Neo's head to let her rest in his lap. Salem may have still had eyes on them and she certainly no longer believed that Oscar considered Neo his enemy, but she was torn and distracted now. She wouldn't be able to see past the night she burnt her castle to the ground and lost all the people she'd once loved. No matter how she drowned herself in her hatred now, Salem would never escape her own memory.
Oscar had provoked her; needled her… and all of it had been true. That'd only make the hurt all the greater.
The next move was hers'.
Nora grit her teeth. She was still the freshest combatant, but this Grimm had successfully pinned her down and kept her from engaging, and she could only hold back its jaws for so long. Magnhild's metal was already showing a few fresh scratches from this canine Grimm's massive fangs. The metal would start to warp under all that pressure if she couldn't disentangle her weapon.
Blake had managed to rise to her unsteady feet, trying to draw the Grimm's attention by peppering it with her limited reserves of ammunition, even though her bullets had yet to make much impact. Yang had heavier artillery, but without her Aura to shield her any combustion risked her being hit by shrapnel. Yang was still trying to wrench the Grimm's massive arm from the ground to rob it of its footing, and give Nora enough leverage to escape out from under it.
They'd both warned her how dangerous this Grimm was and she'd still run in headlong, just like she always did… so desperate to feel useful and make a change when she'd been at her most powerless and ineffective.
Because someone told her that he couldn't join her in the field, and she needed a teammate worthy of sharing the fight with her. Because that same someone then ran off on a suicide mission and she hadn't had the chance to say goodbye.
The day after she broke his heart and left him to pick up the pieces all on his own.
Nora grit her teeth and relaxed her grip on her hammer. She pushed herself along the ground with both palms pressed to the asphalt, sliding forward so the beast's head would drive into the floor she'd once occupied… and it'd run right into Manghild and ring its skull.
The Hound fumbled forward, visibly shaking its head. When it moved to pursue Nora, it opened its mouth and her hammer clattered to the ground.
Unarmed… she just needed an opening…
Yang drove her fist into the side of the beast's head. She couldn't afford to risk firing Ember Celica and catching any of the buckshot, but she still had enough upper body strength to catch the beast's attention. Nora reached down to collect her hammer and strike the opposite side of the Hound's skull face before it could pursue Yang, reminding it where it should keep its focus. The Hound opted to keep chasing the wounded and vulnerable blonde instead, putting distance between Nora and itself. Smart, indeed.
Or perhaps not.
Blake fired the ribbon from Gambol Shroud towards Yang's hand, swiftly yanking her out of harm's way. Nora rushed over and slammed the beast's skull with another swing of her hammer, driving its head to the ground and blasting either side of its face.
The Hound quickly ambled away, rolling along the ground. Visible chips of white bone flaked off from its skull and clattered to the ground… at least they could see they'd made some progress. Nora went to pursue, but the Hound kept backing away from her, keeping her at a distance… meaning she'd have to keep chasing it and more than likely be lured into another trap.
Yang chucked one of her Atlesian grenades to Nora. Nora quickly caught on, collapsing Magnhild into its grenade launcher and loading the new ordinance. Before the Grimm could catch on, Nora already discharged the explosive, lobbing the projectile fright into the beast's already damaged face.
Its skull cracked further. More of its black ichor melted off its head and neck, sloping onto the ground like slag runoff. Nora switched to her own grenades, firing off three more explosives. The Hound lifted one of its bulky arms to try and shield its face, more and more black flesh splattering to the ground, revealing…
Revealing…
The bones were so charred they were an ashen gray. But the skeletal arm beneath that black skin was much thinner and lankier than the Hound's own, as though surrounded by a thick coat of muscle. The fingers continued to twitch and clench, despite no longer having any apparent connective tissue to animate them.
The beast's white skull broke away, falling neatly in twin halves onto the ground. Beneath the black flesh, they found something even more unexpected than discolored bone: messy brown hair, and protruding ears rising on either side of the head, with a distinctly L-shaped canal. Beneath that hair and those ears, fair skin so pale it had nearly grayed too… fair, but noticeably darker than a curious white splatter lining one side of a very human face.
"A human… inside a Grimm?" Yang asked, incredulous.
"A Faunus," Blake corrected, turning her eye to the canine ears.
Pinches of black ichor dribbled down the… creature's face. Some collected just below its left eye…
A left eye with a silver glint.
"Guys…" Nora called their attention to it.
The Hound shook its head, turning that single silver eye towards them. It opened its mouth, gurgling out a slow, labored breath… and a murmur.
Blake heard it first, her ears standing up to catch the faint, repeated threat. Yang and Nora caught it moments after, hearing the twisted hybrid state its mantra again and again.
"The scent… the scent…"
Salem had attempted to seat her throne for some time, but kept adjusting her position, unable to find a comfortable groove. Eventually she gave up trying to stay seated and paced around her elaborate sculpture of Grimm bone, staring once more at the dull glass of the extinguished relic.
"Jinn," she whispered again. Salem searched the lamp for some means of release, or any hint of its magic being released upon the word. She scoured the surface of the relic again and again, trailing her fingers over plate and glass and finding no groove, not even so much as an imperfection on its frame.
Salem saw her face reflected in its golden plate, her red eyes plainly marking her place. Salem quickly tore her gaze away from it, looking at the empty red of the walls of her living flagship.
Mommy?
The castle walls had been black too. At night they almost seemed to fade away.
Ozma had lit the hall with his cane and a few candles outside the girls' room. Their daughters had changed out of their nightwear and into their usual assortment of colors. Their eldest led her sister by the hand, and their youngest was holding her favorite stuffed toy.
Salem knew at once what they were about to do. How Ozma had… coerced them, turned them against her. Her anger consumed her in ways she'd always -always- forced herself to temper in the presence of their children.
It wasn't the first time she'd been betrayed by someone she loved. But Ozma had been the one to save her from that life, and given her companionship when no one else had been able to. Now the very same man who freed her took not only his love away, but also her children?
She raged. She was cornered and in pain, and unleashed fury that clawed right out from her skin.
Ozma bested her. But the gods had willed she would not die, and she rebuilt her form in the ashes of her castle… when she peered at Ozma, wounded on the ground, she saw her daughter's favorite stuffed dog among the ashes beside a small patter of red.
We finally had freedom.
Salem's rage was tinged with a bitter aftertaste. She and Ozma had been meant to rule the new world, but their daughters carried the magic of the old one. Now none would come after them, no one would inherit the future they'd meant to carve together.
She knew he'd return. The gods continued to toy with her… but that had always been their wont. Ozma's choice to take everything she had left… that was not a wound she could have expected.
Or forgiven.
Salem turned her attention back to the lamp, and the dull, unreflective glass. For the first time, she wondered…
Had the boy told her the truth?
She'd been surprised twice already by what he'd done in the… zeal of his youth. Ozma may have drowned in his escapism, but the boy still had the tiniest spark of real affection in his bonds, even after being betrayed.
How was it possible for someone to still love after knowing their trust had been shattered? Was it just the naivete of youth?
If the lamp had even a single question left, Salem thought at that moment she might ask that question, rather than the myriad of others that she'd need answered in pursuing the relics. If the password was real, then Salem could simply wait a hundred years to take her next step. She could abandon her campaign for now and fade back into legend again, and leave the world to trust the words of children and blind, failed leaders rather than the evidence of their own eyes.
But too much was already in motion. If she didn't strike soon, she'd probably have to wait a century before the world forgot this fairy tale of the master holding the Grimm's reins before she could attack again. The element of surprise had already been squandered by the boy distracting her.
And it had been a distraction, hadn't it? It had been a means to buy time for his allies…
Salem cursed herself for not thinking of it sooner. She had tried to threaten someone who could not die with pain and death. She tried to barter the lives of his lovers when he'd be just as protective of the one who got away.
He was young. He was weak. And Salem had known for hours how to exploit him and not used a greater, much more dangerous weapon than pain...
Mercury had taken the flight controls to guide them into Atlas. Once they'd moved past the fleet of winged Beringels Salem had brought alongside her Monstra, he engaged the autopilot and let the ship return to port on its own, leaving him and Emerald to relax… and wait.
Not that Emerald made for the best company then. She'd been quiet, focused… but her gaze kept shifting back, away from Atlas to the Grimm flagship they'd departed. The target of her attention, her revenge, remained behind her and she didn't let herself see the enemy right in front of her.
Mercury had tolerated the silence for a while, but after Emerald's fourth or fifth errant glance behind them… "She's gone."
"...I know that," Emerald growled.
"I'm just saying that you need to get your head in the game, Em," Mercury bluntly advised. "I told you before we packed up and flew over here: Salem's the one calling the shots now."
"And now we don't have Cinder between us and her," Emerald reminded him. "Do you really think she's going to put up with us the same way Cinder did?"
"You got somewhere else to go?" Mercury wondered. "Salem's gonna change the world, give us a spot in the new regime. Just like Cinder promised us: a seat at the table."
"She's sending us out to die," Emerald bitterly argued. "If we succeed, sure, we get to come back and then we get a different task. It doesn't end for her: we keep doing what she orders until we die, then she finds someone else. She moves on; she doesn't care."
"Glad you've finally caught on," Mercury observed. "What did you expect? Things were just hunky-dory for you when Cinder was the one bossing us around. The very minute we knew she had someone holding her leash, you didn't think things would turn out this way?"
"...did you?" Emerald wondered.
"Cinder was tough; Salem's invincible," Mercury dismissively replied. "We're on the winning team and you're upset because we have to get some blood on our hands to get where she wants to go? Did you forget how many we took out because they got in Cinder's way too, or is that supposed to be different because you actually wanted her to boss you around?"
Emerald clenched her fist in the armrest of her seat. She scoffed and turned her gaze from Mercury to peer out the window.
"Look, I'm sorry she bit the big one: I really am," Mercury assured her. "But if we'd got ourselves aced she wouldn't shed any tears. Looks like she'd already decided she'd rather work with Neo again than either of us… shame it didn't work out for her."
"Shut up," Emerald snapped.
"Yeah, yeah, I know you two are gonna have to settle that someday," Mercury shrugged. "Just saying, Salem welcomed her with open arms because she still had something to offer. So do we -you've just gotta make sure you're worth keeping around. You really think Salem was just gonna let Cinder fail over and over again? You really think Salem wouldn't start wondering if Cinder's friends were worth the time of day?"
Emerald continued to stare out the window. The black clouds were still keeping the sunlight from reaching the city in the sky, the artificial lights glittering over the dull smoke of Mantle.
She'd thought Mercury the only one she could trust in Salem's council. Hazel had been kind and accommodating of her, but the others treated her with open, unguarded contempt. She'd thought Cinder's protection would be enough in a den of wolves, but now that she was gone and even Mercury had been willing to discard her…
Emerald didn't care for Salem's goal of destroying the kingdoms and creating some new world order. She'd only ever immersed herself in all this darkness, only ever been willing to let blood on her hands for Cinder.
Now the only thing that mattered to her was Salem's new favorite. But she'd already squandered her first chance at revenge and her fear of Salem forced her back into line.
If Mercury was right, Salem would eventually lose interest in Neo and discard her too. Either Salem would kill Neo, or Neo would be alone without an immortal witch's favor to shield her.
Emerald glanced over at Mercury. She didn't want to leave him to this… pointless, bloody struggle, but it seemed that was what he wanted for himself. She might've tried to help him, to persuade him to find some other meaning for his life but she'd already made her pitch. There was only so much she thought she owed him now that they'd reached the fork in the road.
Emerald unfurled her fingers and let her palm fall flat against her armrest. She might try just once more. She owed Mercury that much… but only that much.
Then she'd have to make a choice.
Oscar sat with Neo for a long time, waiting for her Aura to recover. Though visibly singed and likely suffering from some painful internal injuries, she seemed content lying there with her head in his lap pillow. She lolled her head around a bit until she found a comfortable spot on his thigh, then she was still save for the occasional blink of her eyes. Oscar offered her his Scroll to communicate with him, but Neo gently shook her head. It seemed she preferred to lie still and stare at him rather than hold a conversation.
That wasn't actually all that surprising: Neo had seemed happy just to be around him. When she had something important she needed to ask, she'd convey the message somehow. Right then, she seemed more interested in his companionship; his presence rather than his voice.
He wondered if it had been like this for her with Torchwick, though he wasn't sure how to ask. Would Neo want to be reminded of that life, or would she want to move on? Maybe Oscar was a proxy for her lost love, as so many women had been for Ozpin. Maybe loss hurt just as bad for a young woman as it did for an immortal man. Maybe they all tried to dull the pain in the same way… or maybe they needed to remind themselves of it before they could let go of it.
Neo knew about the other women in his life; she'd had to share him with one already. It hadn't seemed to bother her… she was attached to him, but still distant enough to accept others sharing his bed. Maybe she'd been expecting -just as he had- for mortality to catch up with her and to simply enjoy another day among the living rather than worry too much about how everything fit together the morning after.
Still, he was grateful not to be alone in the cell. Whatever he was to her, she'd cared enough to follow him into Salem's house. The least he could do was give her a place to rest her head.
Heavy footsteps caught both their ears. Neo fixed her gaze away from Oscar from the first time when the red membrane of his door receded into the wall, and Hazel lumbered in. He brushed his massive fist and jerked his head at Oscar. "Away from her."
"...why?" Oscar asked.
Hazel grunted, stepping closer. He crouched only slightly so Oscar could better see his face, even though he was still several feet away. "Away from her now."
Neo gave his thigh a gentle, invisible pinch. Oscar took the cue and slid out from under her, Hazel himself crouching down and catching Neo's head with his own massive palm. He slid his other arm under her midsection and hoisted her up.
"Where are you taking her?" Oscar asked, still sitting on the floor.
"Somewhere she can rest and recover," Hazel simply replied.
"Why? So Salem can torture her again?" Oscar asked.
"She isn't the one being tortured," Hazel blithely replied.
"No, I suppose not," Oscar conceded. "That's for the rest of us, isn't it?"
Hazel didn't acknowledge the remark. He adjusted his arms slightly so Neo could slide down and rest against his shoulder before turning around and heading out the door.
"Salem nearly killed her just to prove a point to me," Oscar warned him. "She'll do the same to you. She'll kill all of you before she's done."
"...and what would become of this girl if you decided her fate instead?" Hazel asked, not turning to look back at him. "You'd have let her die; no, let her throw her own life away, making her believe she could stop a force of nature." Hazel turned his head slightly so Oscar could see his right eye. "We all die eventually, boy. You're the one who sends children to die without reason."
"...your sister was doing what she thought was best," Oscar argued.
"Because she had you poison her mind with empty promises," Hazel dismissed. "Did you promise her something too? Do you feel like you've honored that promise?" He shook his head. "She gets to live, so maybe she was one of the lucky ones."
"What difference will it make when Salem finishes her work?" Oscar demanded. "She won't spare any of her allies! Even if she gives you everything she promised, what will it matter? All these people you've… helped or protected or whatever you think you've done for them; they'll all die just the same!"
Hazel shook his head again. "This is on your head. You knew you couldn't destroy her. You knew that the innocent would die if you tried to fight her."
"And you knew you'd never have your sister back," Oscar argued. "This isn't about justice, or about saving anyone: you want revenge. You did this for yourself!"
Hazel didn't argue further. He stepped out into the hall and the door sealed behind him, leaving Oscar alone in his cell once again.
He didn't press Hazel further; if Hazel's temper flared up Neo would be caught between them. But hopefully he'd persuaded Hazel into thinking his compassion for Neo wasn't anything more than a gambit by the wizard to persuade Salem's cabal to think of their own self-interest. Hopefully Hazel would still see her as a child, and not recognize what she actually meant to Oscar.
He heard the footsteps echo in the hall as Hazel strode away. Left to wait once again…
"...Oz?" Oscar tentatively asked.
Nothing. Ozpin had told him it'd likely be only a few hours more…
He wondered if he'd be able to sleep. Or if Hazel or Salem would kill him as he continued to provoke them.
Either way, the time was drawing close. He only hoped to still be himself when either of them decided to make their move.
The shambling abomination of a Grimm continued to lurch towards the three of them. The ichor slowly encircled its arm again, building layer upon layer over bone and giving the limb renewed definition. The face was once again slowly being covered up by the same blackness, wrapping slowly over its right side, reconstituting its mask.
Nora did her best to keep her head in the game and started reloading her grenades. They knew the creature could be wounded and whatever else it was, it didn't seem to have the sense to retreat from them. So Nora would return to what strategies had proven effective.
While Nora was busy reloading, Yang fired concussion rounds from Ember Celica. From the distance the weapon's spread would limit its effectiveness, but she also wouldn't risk being struck by the shrapnel. Blake loaded her last clip and fired at the Hound's still exposed face, only for the strange hybrid to raise its right, undamaged arm and take the hits instead.
Nora finished loading Magnhild and fired again. The Hound dashed forward, charging on all fours -disregarding its own lame left hand- and rushing through the explosion to attack Nora again. Without its massive jaws to bite down on Magnhild, it reached out with its right arm to clamp its fingers over her launcher. If Nora tried to discharge again, she might succeed in blasting the Hound's arm… and both of her own hands in the process.
Blake transformed Gambol Shroud and tried to slash it. The Hound pulled its head back, letting her swing go awry before trying to kick her midsection with its hind leg. Blake activated her Semblance and left her shadow clone to take the hit before swinging around the creature's flank and slashing its back.
"The scent… the scent…" the Hound continued to snarl out, indifferent to the pain Blake inflicted. Yang moved in at Nora's side, driving her prosthetic fist into its exposed face, pushing the creature's head into the ground and shaking its grip enough to wedge Nora free.
Nora converted Magnhild into its hammer form and moved to swing, only for the Hound to reach up with its still damaged left arm and take hold of Yang's shoulder, pulling her into the path of Nora's attack. Without her Aura, Yang received the full brunt of Nora's blow to her midsection, almost certainly cracking a few ribs.
Yang coughed out a dribble of blood but did not allow herself time to wail. She swung around with her prosthetic again, constantly striking the creature's still exposed eye. The Hound hoisted her up and swung her around, driving Yang into Blake, then into Nora… sending all three tumbling through the air, away from it.
The girls tried to get to their feet, though Blake quickly ushered for Yang to stay down. The Hound lumbered towards them, white bone emerging from its black flesh to cover the right side of its face.
They couldn't hear its voice any longer, its mantra turned to an indistinguishable growl. Nora readied Magnhild again, surmising she just needed a few more explosives to knock its head off, if she could aim it right… and Blake without any bullets, but still a sword in hand.
The Hound fixed its attention on Nora. She tightened her grip on her hammer.
A swirling mass of red and black opened behind Yang. The clattering of a heeled boot sounded on the paved ground.
The Grimm turned its gaze to an even greater threat. A foe clad in red and black, wielding a long blade. Another carrying the scent…
The Hound had no time to weigh its options. Its enemy descended, slashing through its midsection with a burst of air pressure: the force of a sword swing amplified by the Maiden's gust of wind. The ichor was ripped away, exposing the soft, weak flesh beneath.
Raven drove her blade through the abomination's torso. If it wasn't completely Grimm, that only gave her more options to find its soft spots.
The Hound tried to lift its good arm to strike her. Raven twisted her arm and let her blade cut a bit deeper. Black mass slid off its frame as the ichor melted away.
"The scent…" the Hound murmured again, its distorted Faunus face coming into view as its body broke down. "The scent…"
Raven fixed her gaze on the silver eye. She held her attention on it as she drew Omen back from the abomination's chest and let it fall backward.
Nora moved in after, striking with Magnhild while the Hound lay on the ground. She struck so hard her hammer dug into the asphalt below the twisted hybrid's head.
Raven and Nora both waited for the Grimm's black mass to fade away before turning their attention -however briefly- to each other. The last time the two met on the battlefield, they'd been on opposing sides…
Raven stepped away from the shorter girl, moving to her daughter, still being defended by Blake. It was Yang's turn now to wave Blake off, Yang pushing herself up, trying to stand before Raven got to her. Raven spent several seconds watching her try to rise, thinking on how to act in this situation… before finally offering her unarmed hand to her daughter, if she were so inclined to take it.
Yang hesitated too, but did ultimately accept the hand reaching down to her, and Raven hoisted her up to her unsteady feet. Yang winced and held her side, but took the time to note: "Glad you could join us."
"Your uncle noticed you were overdue," Raven explained. "And you did ask me to standby."
Yang nodded. "I did, didn't I…?"
Another pause. Talking was going a bit more smoothly, but the process was slow.
"What was that thing?" Blake interjected, turning their attention back to the remains of the twisted Grimm. Its Faunus skeleton lingered a while longer than the Grimm flesh, but eventually that unfamiliar component also turned to ash.
Raven turned her gaze back to Yang. She reached up with her free hand to gently tap beside her left eye.
Yang nodded. She'd seen it too… of course she had. And no doubt she was already wondering what it meant… for the past and the present.
"Let's get someone to look at you before we speculate on that," Raven suggested. She glanced briefly between Blake -still wary, still defensively beside Yang- and Nora, still with her hammer holding down the dead Grimm's face. "You girls need a lift?"
Blake moved over to slide under Yang's left arm, supporting her at the shoulder. Raven delicately stepped aside and let her daughter's girlfriend do the necessary lifting. Nora eventually pulled Magnhild away from what little remained of the Hound's corpse before moving to join them.
Raven slashed with Omen, cutting a new tear back to Qrow, back up to Atlas. She waved Yang and Blake in first, with Nora warily eyeing the portal. Raven shrugged. "I wouldn't have bothered laying a trap; I'd have let the Grimm kill you."
"...good to know," Nora dryly observed before following after her friends. Raven noted that Nora kept her gaze to the side, never showing Raven her back on her way in… evidently she was still smart enough not to trust all her curious assortment of allies. Or maybe she simply held a grudge.
Raven took one last glance at the blackness fading on the cold winds. A silver-eyed warrior transformed into a Grimm… no wonder Salem wanted Ruby alive. No wonder Cinder Fall had seemed to want to keep the girl alive, despite her own powerful grudge…
Raven paid the dead no more heed. If Salem had a plan for the living, that was where her eye would be drawn. Summer would care far less for her own fate than the safety of her two girls. They were the entire reason Tai had pleaded with Raven to come back to this hopeless battle.
Though perhaps not her only reason… that was another thing she and Yang would have to talk about. Raven privately hoped her recuperation would take a while, and the fight with Salem would force them to concentrate on more immediate problems before they got to any of that.
Though, talking about silver-eyed warriors… that'd be painful too. That'd be another reminder of whom Yang considered her mother to be.
Raven reminded herself not to dwell on it. That pain would linger, but it'd be further proof she -and her daughter- had survived another day. And with time it would fade.
Raven stepped back through her portal and returned to her brother -and her daughter's- side.
"Move to positions!" Clover instructed. His Ace Ops moved to the far right of the landing pad, Harriet giving herself a good distance for a running start. Ruby repeated the motion on the left side, Weiss preparing a trail of glyphs of to accelerate her pace should additional velocity be needed. Penny took to the sky, levitating above the platform and giving her a bird's eye view. Clover himself moved to Weiss's side, his team all leveling ranged weapons to the center of the landing pad.
The small craft deployed its landing gear and set down. Its side panel door slid open, revealing a single occupant.
She stepped out onto the platform, both her hands in the air. She'd changed her outfit since Beacon, but Weiss and Ruby remembered the darker skin, the red eyes… and especially the mint green hair.
"Emerald," Ruby murmured under her breath.
"Stay where you are!" Clover instructed. "No sudden movements!"
"...I'm not here to fight," Emerald assured him, both hands still aloft.
"Then why are you here?" Weiss interjected, trying to keep her tone even and not unleash all of her disdain. "Where's Oscar?"
"Your little friend is still being held captive by Salem," Emerald answered. "As for me…" She glanced around the landing pad at the various weapons pointed at her, then up to the girl in the air, held up by the thrusters of her rocket boots… one of very few Emerald distinctly remembered being left for dead.
"...I've come to surrender."
Salem took a moment to return to her chambers before going to see him again. She'd brought none of her personal effects -what few remained at her keep- but she did pause a moment to see if she was still composed. Her empty black walls gave her no way to measure her own appearance, but the lamp she'd so callously relaxed her grip on before… she saw her face when she looked upon the pleated gold. She could see where her fervor had undone her carefully constructed appearance. Salem finally allowed herself to look on her reflection, if only long enough to adjust her hair bands and put them back into place, and adjust the cut of her gown. She'd already left some of her chest exposed, but for her own comfort rather than because she wanted to draw anyone's attention. Now…
She'd wondered before if any man could look upon her and not see death. She'd wondered it in many eras, with many different followers sworn to her service. She hadn't always seen shows of affection returned, and this would be the first time she could recall two men not succumbing to their fear of her living in the same age.
The boy was young, and that was not to her taste. But she did not age: she was frozen in time. Perhaps having the souls of many different lives confined within him made him the only person on the planet of comparable age to herself… in his own way.
Salem refocused her attention on her goal. Answers first, then she'd gently dip in her finger and see what strands she could weave. He did not fear her, and had given himself up for dead: perhaps that would make him just arrogant enough to let her in.
Perhaps more…
She was getting ahead of herself. First to see if he was as honest as he professed to be.
Salem finally took her leave from her chamber. On her way to Oscar's cell, she passed by Hazel carrying Neo in his arms to her quarters: another reminder of a life she could never escape from.
She said nothing. She marched past him and briefly mused on what to do with Neo if she lived.
Salem finally reached Oscar's cell and bid Monstra to open her inner walls. Salem stepped inside and Oscar rose to his feet, to be as close to eye level as he could. Shorter than her… that bothered her too. But he seemed quite a bit taller than he'd been when he arrived, ridiculous as that seemed.
They were both quiet for a long time. Salem peered down at the relic of knowledge, turning her gaze away from her reflection to the dull, empty glass.
"You said you used the last question by accident," Salem reminded him. "I'll give you a chance, so do not lie: not by accident or omission." She turned her gaze on him. "Is that the truth?"
He had hazel eyes. A different color to the men who'd opposed her before.
"Yes," Oscar affirmed. "One of my… one of the girls you're hunting came to my room and I summoned Jinn for her. I offered to answer a question about her past, but when we were talking I accidentally asked Jinn something else… and she did as the God of Light created her to."
Salem nodded. It was unlike Ozma to be careless and squander such an advantage… but this boy was noticeably more reckless. Salem hadn't wanted to believe his claim, but could believe him capable of making such a mistake. "And Ozma still hasn't shared with you what became of the Relic of Choice?"
"No," Oscar shook his head, reaching up and pointing to the side of his head. "I don't hear his thoughts anymore. I don't know it yet, but it won't be long now until our souls complete the merge."
"And if you did know, would you tell me then?" Salem asked.
"No," Oscar immediately replied. "Not if you're still planning to bring the brothers back and see the world in the state it's in. Not when you'll let so many people die just for your own spite."
Salem offered an approving nod. "I expected as much… such a shame."
She reached up to rest her free hand under her chin; to feign contemplation. At the very least, this boy thought he'd be able to refrain from telling her. So far, his answers seemed genuine.
Salem suspected a great many things from him. But perhaps with further prodding, she could know.
"Why did you come to me, then?" Salem inquired.
"To buy my friends time in mounting their defense," Oscar replied. "...if I couldn't persuade you to stop."
Salem paused again, genuinely surprised. He thought… he thought he could convince her to-?
"I did not think you a fool," Salem mused. "Do you really believe that-"
"I believe that maybe there are things in the world that can't change," Oscar interjected. "That maybe I -or Ozpin, or Ozma, or the wizard- will eventually just play out the same life over and over and we'll have to keep fighting and more people will suffer and die because of our war. But for the moment, for just this little while longer, I'm still me. I'm the one who came to you because I'm not that person yet. While I'm still someone else, while I'm still not… Oz, you don't have to hate me. You don't have to believe I'll always be your enemy."
"Really?" Salem wondered, still searching him for deception. She'd been caught off guard by his… boldness, perhaps, but this was quite a bit of arrogance and naivete, even from one so young. "And do you have some offering for me, some reason to think you'll come into my house and not seek to destroy me?"
"I can't destroy you," Oscar admitted. "In another life, Oz asked Jinn… he looked for a way out, a way to end it, to go back to the afterlife and break the cycle. So I'm trying something different."
Salem was undeniably intrigued. More guarded than before, but impressed against her will. Perhaps he was interspersing his lies; perhaps he was more Ozpin than he professed to be, but he was certainly… interesting. "...go on."
"I told you that I wanted to ask Jinn if there was a way for you to see them again," Oscar reiterated. "I meant it. If I could I'd offer you a way for this to end… because I believe that maybe -just maybe- you want one thing; one thing more than revenge."
Salem held his gaze, but refused to change her expression. She couldn't let him see past the facade when he'd already cracked it twice.
He'd always been a clever man. And he was the only one in all the world who remembered seeing her look upon another life with love…
"I didn't expect you to trust me," Oscar acknowledged. "But I came here in good faith. You can't be destroyed, but maybe you can still be saved."
Saved. Again.
Salem tried to maintain her expression. She wouldn't let him see doubt. She tried not to let herself so much as question.
She came to seduce him, to manipulate him enough to give her the answers she needed. She hadn't expected to be the one seduced by what she knew... what must have been an empty promise...
She finally turned her gaze to the lamp, away from him. One of her hair bands had come undone again, her hair falling ever so slightly out of place. A single imperfection… and a reminder of a very different moment when a man came to her house and reminded her of another life.
It wasn't real. It was a deception, a ploy to defeat her-
It was another lie; another lie piled upon the thousands that came before it.
It was just a memory, the past momentarily overlaying on the present; an illusion she could not let herself be taken in by.
It was tempting, and some part of her did question… could it be real?
Salem met Oscar's gaze again. She kept her guard, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for his deceit to finally emerge… but nonetheless pressed on. She would indulge this small curiosity… for the moment.
"Well then, Oscar," Salem tentatively began, "...I suppose we have a lot to talk about."