When Time Isn't On Our Side:

When Ozpin fell in battle his spirit did not die, instead it wandered to find a new host. But in this world, Jaune Arc never ventured to Beacon, being the weaker of a pair of twins one of whom did, and was instead a prime candidate to become a new host for the former headmaster. Now, months before Beacon's fall has been scheduled, Jaune must race against the clock to save his sister, the huntsman academies, and perhaps the world.

0-0-0-0

At an unknown location...

"Such arrogance." a seductive voice crooned from out of the darkness. A figure wrapped in a fiery dress sashayed over to where the prominent headmaster of Beacon Academy, Ozpin, stood poised to attack with his cane.

He had been expecting this for some time to be honest. The mission, the circumstances, and the whole air of deceit around the whole thing reeked of treachery, but, at the same time, he could not ignore this for what it was. Instead, the old wizard took aim with his trusty weapon at the figure shrouded in darkness. He did not truly know her name, but it mattered little at the moment. This woman was an agent of her he knew it, her pawns had always been so easy to identify in the field.

"I will not allow my kingdom, my race to fall to your mistress's clutches you pawn." Ozpin said dangerously, the air seemed to heat around the woman who snarled at the remark.

"You will regret your actions you dusty old man!" she growled, conjuring spears of flame to immolate the old headmaster. Luckily Ozpin danced around them with eerie grace, the kind of skill that spoke of a lifetime of experience. His cane flourished as it cut through the air in green arcs of aura, the woman dashed away from them narrowly avoiding being bisected by a particularly savage stroke.

Running a hand along the ground as she slid back, the very earth beneath them turned to volcanic glass and raised itself in the air in the form of wicked blades. Clenching a fist the daggers surged forth, trying to shred the old man to bits. However, as they got close, the Headmaster acted drawing forth from his semblance and slicing through all of them cleanly, grinding them into harmless dust.

"You do not scare me, pawn." Ozpin remarked lowly, clutching his cane tighter.

The woman made no remark as she was put on the defensive, Ozpin had stabbed forward like a fencer and nearly pierced the fiery woman's heart with his cane. The woman having barely blocked it, was suddenly subjected by a flurry of stabbing thrusts that exploded across her body like small, emerald grenades. The final stabbed swung her across the floor with an agonized yelp and a wet squelch, she landed on her back dazed and confused.

Slowly, and with practiced calm the old wizard lumbered forward, intending to end this battle with a final swing of his cane. As he drew near the woman desperately attempted to claw out a breath from her bruised lungs, her aura would do no help as it had been nearly shattered in that last attack. Ozpin loomed over the gasping form, cane grasped firmly in hand, but as he raised a swing that would have surely removed her head the woman sprung her trap.

Beneath the headmaster's very feet the earth screamed like the dying caw of some bird. Fiery red circles of pure aura surged underneath Ozpin as they spun fast, so fast that they seemed like a blur.

Then they erupted.

And with the force of a warehouse of dust being set ablaze the world faded into a searing light. Ozpin could feel his body vaporize against the immense heat and force of the trap, and yet he felt a sense of weary calm, and something akin to grim acceptance. The old wizard felt his body drag upwards, away from the carnage below as the light was replaced with darkness that seemed much more natural than the searing explosion from before...

In the darkness of a bedroom, a clumsy hand smacked across the wall looking for the light switch. Eventually it located its target and with a soft click! the room was illuminated with bright light. It seemed rather normal, something a boy from a small town might have with posters for bands and video games strewn across the wall and some clothes laid across the floor.

However, on the door, there was a curious symbol. Perhaps it'd be more apt to call it a crest than anything else, a pair of crescent moon-like slashes layered over one another. They were a vibrant yellow and were placed upon the wooden door with definite pride, given they were perhaps the most well-kept thing in the entire room as well as the feeling emitted as the figure laid eyes upon them.

Somewhere, deep inside, the spiritual form of Headmaster Ozpin could feel the connection building bridges across memories, and feelings, and ideas, and thoughts. Nearly overwhelmed had this not been a new experience, the distinguished professor could only breath two words...

"Jaune Arc..."

0-0-0-0

2 weeks later...

Jaune trudged downstairs, yawning loudly as the weekend sunshine had come to bare its ugly fangs through the glass windows of the modest kitchen. The place itself seemed ransacked almost, a mess left across the table, the island, and even the microwave signalling his parents had torn through the establishment before he did. Sighing to himself, Jaune prepared himself some coffee and took out what out some flavorings and the like.

More zombie than man, the 17 year old dumped some sugar and cream into the pitch black coffee that steamed beneath him. Even as the color turned into a more warm chocolate brown Jaune fought to keep a grimace from himself, man did he hate coffee.

"Mister Arc, do you truly hate coffee so much that you must taint it with all of this sugar and cream?" came the sagely voice from within him.

"Shut it." was his simple response to that predicament.

The voice simply sighed, the entity that called itself "Ozpin", currently residing within one Jaune Arc, had been far too used to this conversation already. Ozpin had had some rather... stubborn hosts before but this was truly something special. The boy rarely even acknowledged his presence and when he did it was only to ask, rather unpolitely, for him to quiet down.

The only reason Jaune was even drinking coffee was because Ozpin had asked for it so much, the spirit yearning for that rich bean-scented liquid. He would have preferred it black or even the cafeteria's special brew, but this was some condolence the aged headmaster supposed.

"Jaune please, I understand how... jarring this is to accept but people are in danger." Ozpin implored, he could faintly feel a tug of the facial muscles and the small burst of uncomfortable emotion within the young man. The old wizard could tell the idea of leaving people in danger irked him, but it did not seem he fully trusted Ozpin's word as of yet.

"Yes, I'm only hearing a voice in my head. Jarring is a good word." Jaune remarked sardonically, making Ozpin mentally roll his eyes. Thickheaded like his third incarnation but of course.

"Jaune, what must I say to prove it to you? I am truly the former headmaster of Beacon Academy, I am Professor Ozpin!" the voice cried out, attempting to reach its host somehow.

"No, no." Jaune said, shaking his head and sipping some more of the repugnant drink. "I just sick, sick in the head yes, but sick nonetheless."

"You're not sick Jaune, you've been gifted with incredible opportunity in this life."

"Yeah, so what I'm the messiah am I?" Jaune chuckled grimly. Ozpin did not believe he found it too funny, but, on the other hand, the old headmaster did not either.

"No, you are the next vessel to host me. Please Jaune I beg of you! People, thousands maybe even millions, are in danger if you do not stop what is coming in time." The old headmaster begged to his new body.

"And why should I believe even a singled shred of your words, so far all I can say is that you claim to be Ozpin after he has suspiciously gone missing in the past few weeks?" Jaune spat, gripping the mug like his life depended on it.

"Jaune please, I can do no more than speak to you. To guide you." Ozpin asked once again, watching as his host downed another sip of the heavenly brew. "If you wish for proof then so be it. Jaune, tell me, what does the inside of General Ironwood's office look like?"

"It's shaded in dark blues and whites, of course, and it is furnished with a fine mahogany desk as well as matching bookshelves. James always did have an affinity to that glossy wood." Jaune explained casually, as if it were common knowledge to him. The truth of what he said only seemed to set in a moment later as he stopped mid-sip of his coffee.

"H-How... No that wasn't right, was it?" The young man asked, setting the cup down with tremoring hands.

"Do you believe me now, Jaune?"

"I-How did I know about...? James..." Jaune mumbled to himself before going quiet, seemingly mulling something over with himself. "Ok, I'll bite then Ozpin. Tell me what you know."

Ozpin gave a victorious smile from within Jaune's very soul, if he had known it would be that easy. "Well Mister Arc, as you know I am Ozpin, former headmaster of Beacon Academy. But I am so much more as well, truth be told I am the seventh or so incarnation of the wizard from the Four Maidens Tale."

"I thought it was just a fairy tale?" Jaune asked, seemingly perplexed.

"Every tale has to begin from somewhere, Jaune, and mine was written into more of a memoir than a mere myth to help kids sleep at night. Continuing on, however, I am the one who gave the four maidens their original gifts. Back then I was little more than a bitter old wizard, alone and unhappy with what I had wrought for myself in those days. The maidens, similar to how I am now, would continue their line by hopping from one young female to the next when the old one eventually perished..."

"So... You're saying there are others like me then?" The blonde-haired boy asked, almost nervously.

"Yes and no, while the power, experiences, and even some of the memories and impressions left by the previous host pass on the, the entire consciousness does not. That is because when I gave them their power, I could not truly replicate one such as my own, but moving on as I myself grew weak and frail with age I soon realized that it was time that I move on from this world. And with that sentiment I passed on, leaving my first body as I projected myself into the next. I would continue this cycle for years, when one body grew too old or another perished in the battle against evil I would find a suitable new candidate for my soul. You are my eighth, Jaune."

"I... What do you mean by evil?" he asked hesitantly, The old wizard gave a long suffering sigh before explaining once more.

"The Grimm are not as leadlerless and disorganized as humanity might hope, neigh they have a leader who goes by the name of Salem. A crooked and foul creature of darkness who will stop at nothing to crush humanity into dust, into remnants of the past. I, my previous incarnations I mean, and a handful of my most loyal friends and followers have taken the fight to her time and time again. But to this day the threat remains, Salem is viscious, strong, crafty, cunning, and dangerous beyond any monster that walks the earth, soars through the skies, or glides through the seas."

"And what do I have to do with this?" Ozpin could feel the boy already knew.

"Jaune, what I ask of you, my eighth reincarnation, is to take up my mantle once more and fight for your fellow humans. I will not lie, it will be dangerous, terrifying, and you have a good chance of dying at the end. But, if we can end Salem's reign, we can free humanity from its realm of fear and violence forever more."

"I accept this then..." Jaune spoke quietly, coffee having lost its warmth minutes ago.

"I understand this is so much to take in, so much to gamble. But, Jaune, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you will not die until you've lived a life full of happiness. When it comes to battle and such, I am pleased to say you could not have asked for a better training coach."

"I'm putting a lot of trust into you Ozpin, here's hoping we can do this." Jaune whispered, going to brew another cup of coffee how the old headmaster liked it...

0-0-0-0

Ozpin could feel the boy's trepidation as he packed his essentials into a duffel bag and backpack. Jaune was still just a boy, and this whole thing was completely out of his element. As far as Ozpin could tell, the boy had never been in a serious fight in his entire life despite the fact both his parents were accomplished huntsman. The headmaster had taken some time to sift through his vessel's memories and found an interesting dynamic for his family.

His parents, Jolanda and Broderick Arc, were both accomplished huntsman in their fields. In fact, Ozpin could remember meeting the pair briefly on a few missions here and there. However, both parents had adamantly refused to train their children and completely discouraged the whole lifestyle due to the extreme danger it posed to them, even the mother and father duo would seldom go on missions nowadays.

Despite that, the youngest female, and subsequent twin of Jaune, Janessa, took to the lifestyle as a fish takes to water. The girl had an aptitude for swordplay that was undeniable and displayed a remarkable ability to increase the velocity of herself to pinball herself off surfaces and create quick, yet devastating, strikes. But the headmaster noted something of a rift between the twins, Janessa had apparently been unimpressed with most of her siblings and especially with her twin due to their lacking ability in the field of combat. Janessa was a proud spirit, and harbored the name of Arc proudly and saw herself the gleaming white knight who would uphold the legendary warrior line for generations to come.

Jaune, on the other hand, resented his twin, not only due to her abhorrent attitude, but also due to a deep jealously at his own inability to fight. Like his sister, he too wished to become a huntsman but had neither the ability, the time, nor the tools to train himself properly. Overall, the familial situation in the Arc household was terse at best more than a little pointed at worst. But, in the end, family is family and the wizened headmaster knew that his young protege was fiercely protective of his family. It reminded him of a close friend long ago, a name forgotten to time but a spirit that resembled so close to his new vessel.

Jaune had finished packing, and it was time to hit the road. The blonde boy felt a pit open up in his stomach as he stared along the dirt road that would ultimately begin his journey. Something about this whole situation was wrong.

And not just wrong in the sense that he was listening to a voice claiming to be a presumed deceased headmaster who was telling him to join the fight against what was apparently the root of all evil. But instead, it felt as though, even now, forces unseen pressured him from all sides and an unwelcome presence that wasn't there before lingered in the air like the stench of death.

Drumming his fingers against the handle of an old machete his father had stored away in the attic, Jaune steeled his resolved and took the first step down the road to his destiny.

Mark his words, he was going to regret this.