This week, for Writing Prompt Wednesday's 100th prompt, we wrote sequels to previous stories that we'd done! This was a sequel to my Evil League of Evil story.
Oscar sat in front of the campfire, feeling a bit awkward. After dinner, everyone had split off into small groups to talk or gone off on their own to do something, leaving Oscar on his own.
They'd spent a week in Mistral after the battle at Haven before leaving for a port in the north of Anima two days prior. Everyone had gotten a chance to get to know each other and had overcome some of the initial awkwardness. Even Weiss and Ilia were getting along now.
Oscar was the only one that many of them still had trouble dealing with. It wasn't that anyone was mean to him or anything, it was just that none of them seemed to be able to ignore Ozpin's presence long enough to focus on Oscar himself. That meant that they usually ignored Oscar during quiet moments like this.
Ruby had always been the exception to that rule, but ever since she reunited with her team, they'd taken up a lot more of her attention. Oscar tried very hard not to feel jealous about that.
Yet, at the moment it wasn't her team that had Ruby's attention, it was her baby. She'd stripped Crescent Rose after dinner and spent the next twenty minutes furiously polishing every component with a very un-Ruby-like expression of anger on her face.
"Come on," Oscar heard her mutter. "Why won't you come off?" He was about to speak up when Yang beat him to it.
"What's the matter, sis?" asked the blonde from where she was sitting with the three Faunus in the group.
"I don't know what's wrong!" answered Ruby, sounding distraught. "I can't get this rust off."
From behind Ruby, Weiss poked her head out of her tent.
"Did you say rust?" asked the former heiress. "I've been polishing Myrtenaster since dinner and it's still looking rusty."
Jaune ran over from where he'd been practicing his swordplay a few yards from camp. He held up Crocea Mors to show everyone the corrosion on the blade.
"I noticed it too all of a sudden. This is weird."
Qrow stood up from where he'd been sitting and drew Harbinger. Sure enough, the blade was tinted reddish-brown. After that, everyone checked their weapons. Those that were coated in some way were fine, but any exposed steel was covered in rust. Yang's arm also appeared to be safe. Oscar checked his cane and found it to be rust free.
"It isn't made of iron," supplied Ozpin. "Mostly silver and brass."
"Do you have any idea what's causing this?" Oscar asked.
"Well…" Ozpin began to answer, but he stopped when the fire at the center of the campsite roared up for a moment and then turned cobalt blue.
Silence hung over the camp as everyone stared in confusion at the azure flames that now lit them all with a strange, cold glow. Oscar had heard that blue fire was hotter than yellow or orange fire, but seeing that unusual color on everyone's faces sent a chill down his spine.
"Get your weapon," ordered Ozpin, panic leaking into his mental voice. "Now."
"Guys, Ozpin says to grab your weapons!" Oscar called out, extending his cane and taking up a fighting stance.
Yang, Blake, Sun, and Ilia stood up and grabbed their weapons. Ruby reassembled Crescent Rose as quickly as she could. Weiss emerged from her tent with her rapier in hand. Ren and Nora rushed out of the tent they'd been sharing, weapons ready. Jaune turned to face away from the fire and raised his shield. Qrow transformed Harbinger into its cannon form and pointed it out into the woods around them, searching for some sign of a threat.
As Oscar turned to face the trees as well, he accidentally kicked his backpack and heard a squish. He glanced down and nudged the pack open with his foot. Inside, he saw his last apple had turned brown and soft. Kicking the backpack had smeared it all over his clothes. Oscar frowned in confusion; an hour ago it had been fine.
"Oscar, eyes up," Ozpin reminded him hurriedly.
Oscar lifted his head and began searching the trees, but it was difficult to see anything when the whole scene was cast in the blue light of the fire. He couldn't pick out any sign of motion beyond the dancing of the flames.
"What are we looking for?" asked Ruby from her place to Oscar's right. "Grimm?"
"People," replied Ozpin. "Seven of them." His fear was permeating Oscar's mind, maybe even more so than when they'd encountered Hazel.
"Ozpin says seven people," Oscar called out. He could feel the others glancing at him, but they quickly returned their gazes to the trees.
As Oscar continued to search the woods for any sign of movement, words began to appear in his head. It wasn't clear like when Ozpin spoke to him. It was more like the professor had a song stuck in his head, and the words were leaking into Oscar's mind.
When the hearthfire turns to blue,
What to do? What to do?
Run outside, run and hide.
The frightening words were sung in a cheerful tune, like a children's song. They continued to run through Oscar's mind, filling him with dread.
When your bright sword turns to rust,
Who to trust? Who to trust?
Stand alone, standing stone.
The wind whistled through the trees, sending a chill down Oscar's spine. Leaves blew into the clearing, and Oscar noticed that many of them were gray and shriveled. He recognized the signs of blight, a farmer's worst nightmare.
When all the leaves on the tree have died,
Where to hide? Where to hide?
Try to flee, hope they don't see.
Behind him, Oscar heard the loud, rapid bangs of Blake's weapon firing. Everyone turned to look where she was shooting just as her gun fell silent.
"I thought I saw something," she muttered. "If it was there it's gone now."
As Oscar turned back to face the woods in front of him, he saw a stark white figure out in the trees, but no sooner did he try to focus on it than it disappeared.
See a woman pale as snow,
Silent come and silent go?
What's their plan? What's their plan?
Oscar continued to search the forest for any sign of movement. He blinked once, and when he opened his eyes again he was startled to see a man standing between two trees, some thirty yards outside of the clearing.
The man was tall and thin, with pale skin and curly white hair that reached to his shoulders. He wore a dark colored tunic and pants and carried a sword in one hand. His sharp features were twisted into a grin as manic and cruel as the one Cinder had worn when she taunted them about Lionheart's betrayal.
But the man's most striking feature was his eyes, which were black as coals and did not shine in the firelight.
When his eyes are black as crow,
Where to go? Where to go?
Near and far. Here they are.
Oscar tried to call out to alert the others, but all he managed was a choking sound. Beside him, Qrow raised his weapon and fired, the gunshot ringing out through the clearing.
The black-eyed man stepped to the side, moving impossibly fast and yet showing no more hurry than if he'd been taking a leisurely stroll. Qrow's bullet struck a branch behind the man. He took another graceful step and disappeared behind a tree.
When your food has turned to rot,
Should you fight or should you not?
Run away, live today.
Oscar felt his whole body shaking with fright. He tightened his grip on his cane, but that only caused his hands to shake more. He cast his gaze back and forth over the trees, searching for the black-eyed man, but he saw nothing. Then a cool voice sounded through the clearing, just loud enough to be heard.
"Ozpin…"
See a man without a face,
Oscar turned towards the voice and saw a figure emerging from the trees. He wore a hooded cloak that hung heavily on his frame. Even as he stepped into the blue light of the fire, everything beneath that cloak was hidden in impenetrable shadow.
Move like ghosts from place to place?
Gazing into the shadows beneath the man's hood, Oscar's heart was gripped with fear. Memories from when he was a young child came back to him suddenly, memories of trying to sleep while surrounded in endless darkness, of feeling alone and terrified.
Looking into the man's face, it felt like that same darkness that had scared him as a child had donned a cloak and was now walking steadily towards him.
What's their plan? What's their plan?
Oscar raised his cane in trembling hands and pointed it at the shadow-wreathed man.
Chandrian. Chandrian.