I'm glad to see so many people liked Tyrian's new lore in this, particularly the tragic elements of it. I always prefer villains who can be sympathetic, and consider it boring whenever they are evil for the sake of being evil.
Beta: College Fool
Cover Art: Dishwasher1910
Book 4: Chapter 13
The woman's presence was an overpowering one and I wasn't the only person dragged down to my knees. The fact that she met our eyes – and recognised us – was nothing short of terrifying. How many had gazed upon her twice? I couldn't help but think the number to be a very low one, and I didn't feel very proud of us being counted among it.
Tyrian was on his knees as well now, but not from the same invisible force that pushed us down. He was babbling and whimpering, prostrating himself before the creature and wailing his enthusiasm. Salem ignored it, though she didn't stray far from him. Instead, she moved, glided, over to the three of us. My arms shook and I tried to stand, but it was to no avail. She paused in front of Pyrrha and cocked her head curiously.
"There are three faces I recognise here. How intriguing… and yet none of them are the ones to have summoned me. I am not sure whether I should feel offended by that fact." She chuckled darkly and brushed a hand against Pyrrha's cheek. The Champion shivered.
Salem let her be and moved over to Ruby.
"Yours is a face that caught mine eye the last I saw you," she said. One hand reached out to cup Ruby's chin, and the Reaper was drawn up from all fours into a kneeling position. Despite that, it was clear from her wide eyes that she couldn't move a muscle. "These eyes… I thought them familiar but knew not how. Now I remember. I have seen these eyes twice before."
"M-Mom…?"
"Was that what she was to you? To me, she was a woman broken and beaten, dying before me. I offered to save her, would she but grant those she had saved to me. I would have mended her wounds and sent her back to you alive." Salem's crimson eyes narrowed and she gripped Ruby's cheeks tighter. "She refused. The fool dared to attack me, and so I took both her and those she protected. If the snit had but listened, such a fate might have been avoided. Ever are those who refuse to do so."
Tears leaked from Ruby's eyes but she still couldn't move. Salem twisted her face to the side, and then continued to do so, smiling cruelly. "I wonder," she whispered. "Perhaps she should pay again for that insult. It has been a while since I took a first-born child in exchange…"
She twisted a little further, and Ruby whimpered as her face stopped, at the point of her neck snapping. Salem chuckled and twisted again.
A sword cleaved through her arm.
"And there is you, of course," Salem crooned, her arm becoming corporeal once again as Crocea Mors slammed down into the stone floor. My chest heaved, muscles straining to try and attack again, to stay standing. It was all I could do to drag my sword up before me, but even then it wavered in the air. One leg buckled and I sagged in front of Ruby, panting harshly.
"Get away from her…"
"J-Jaune…" Ruby whimpered, falling onto her back without Salem's support. Even then, she could barely move a muscle.
"You seek to make demands of me?" Salem held out one fist, and the very air in my lungs froze. The sword clattered to the ground as my body was raised into the air, feet dangling uselessly. It felt like a hand holding me up, but that instead of it being buried in my collar, it was somewhere between my lungs. "You are less affected than the others, but I suppose that is to be expected."
She smiled cruelly and drew me closer, all the while my hands batted uselessly at where I felt her grip. There was no arm connecting us, however. She was killing me with nothing but her mind, or some spell.
"In you I sense the potential to summon me. Out of everyone here, it is you who I feel would consider it. It is that reason alone that I deign you to exist in my presence." Her hand tightened into a fist and agony coursed through me. A scream was torn from my throat. "Do not forget it. My sense of humour only goes so far. Annoy me and I shall end not only your existence, but that of everyone you lov… oh…?"
I opened my eyes to try and understand why she'd stopped talking, but found her gaze fixed a little lower, to my chest. One of her hands waved before her and I felt my tunic rip. Something metallic tinkled out, still attached on the chain about my neck. Salem stared at the amulet.
She began to laugh.
"So, it has found its way to another. Even I did not foresee this. How amusing," she said once she was done, her shoulders still shaking. What fury had been in her gaze a few seconds earlier was gone now, and she threw me away. I landed hard and rolled onto my side, gasping for breath. "So many familiar faces, indeed," she laughed. "Live a little longer, Deceiver. We shall see where this goes."
I had the presence of mind to force the amulet away before anyone could see it. As I did, I spotted a bird struggling to fly above – barely making it across the room and onto an outcropping above us. It landed there and pressed itself into the wall. Salem gazed up at it, before she laughed and dismissed the creature entirely. She instead moved over to stand before Tyrian and reached down with one hand, two fingers lighting under his chin as she lifted him into a standing position.
"I-It's really you," the Paragon blubbered. "It really worked. I… I…"
"Hush, Tyrian. It is I. You have summoned me." She spoke like a loving mother to a frightened child. "Do you know what that means, Tyrian? Do you know what it means to summon me?"
"A wish. I… I can make a wish."
A wish…?
"Indeed you can."
My eyes widened as I stared at them from the floor. That was what this was all about… to earn a wish? All this death – not just of the ones that had committed suicide here, but those that had been killed by Merlot, it was all for some kind of wish-granting demon woman?
"Don't!" someone cried. To my surprise it was Ruby. She was still flat on her back, arms locked down beside her and unable to move, but her eyes were locked onto Tyrian's face. "Don't make a wish! Merlot did and he… he died. She lied to him!"
Salem's eyes blazed with fire. "I do not lie, cretin!" The force of her shout blasted air through the room, throwing cultists to the floor and pressing me flat as well. When it subsided, Salem's face was calm once more. "I did not lie to him. I do not lie. Lies are for pathetic humans…" She paused to stare at me. She knew. She obviously knew. "I am beyond your lies. Merlot wished for power, but such a wish was vague and impossible to satisfy. I asked him for clarification and he wished for the power of the Grimm." She waved one hand dismissively. "He received it. It is hardly my fault he was unable to control or handle such a boon."
"Y-You tricked him," Ruby whispered.
"He tricked himself… after he tricked and killed his lover, no less. His death was none of my concern. Had your mother wished to return alive to you, she would have been able to. We could have made a pact."
"Mom would never have made a pact with a monster like you. No Hero would!"
"Truly? I know one among you who would desire a wish from me already."
Me. My eyes clenched shut.
"But alas for you, for it was Tyrian who summoned me." She turned to regard her summoner and rose into the air. "Make your wish, my dear. And do put a little more thought into it than your predecessor."
"I already have my wish," he laughed. "I know what I want – what Mistral needs. Not a selfish wish, but one for everyone, one to save everyone – to make me a Hero once more. Salem, Queen of the Grimm, I wish of you-"
A shape blurred down from above in an explosion of feathers. A sword flashed down toward Tyrian's head.
Salem sighed.
"ARGHH!" Qrow screamed out in pain as he was batted from the air not a second from slicing Tyrian in two from behind. His feet hadn't even touched the fall from his falling attack, and Salem moved not an inch towards him, but with a wave of her hand he was propelled away. He slammed into and through a pillar, a cloud of dust kicked up as it broke into rubble around him.
"Uncle Qrow!" Ruby screamed.
"A valiant effort, but the ritual cannot be interrupted." Salem sounded bored. "Please continue, Tyrian."
"The monarchy is corrupt," Tyrian howled, smiling wildly. "The church is corrupt, our faith is corrupt, and those that rule Mistral care only for their own ideals. I beseech you, Salem. Become our Queen. Become the new Goddess of our Kingdom!"
His wish was to place a demon like her on the throne of Mistral? It was insane, and as his words came to an end I waited for the explosion of air, some kind of cosmic sound, that would herald the reality of his wish.
Nothing happened.
Salem, however, did laugh. "That is your wish?" she asked. "You wish to have me as your Queen and Goddess?"
"Yes," Tyrian pleaded. "Let me be your Hero. I beg of you!"
"Ha, a novel wish. I have not heard the like before. Very well, I shall grant it. You, Tyrian Callows, now belong to me. Your life is mine. Your soul is mine. Your very being is mine." Her eyes roamed over the other men and women in the temple. "The others, however… I cannot change what I am. I am Salem, Queen of the Grimm. You are my Hero, but they cannot be."
She snapped her fingers in the air.
My eyes clenched shut as bodies slumped to the ground all around us. When I cracked them open again I saw that Pyrrha and Ruby were unharmed, but of the villagers and Heroes not a single one remained standing.
Tyrian looked horrified. "M-My Queen…? You… killed them?"
"Look again, Tyrian," Salem crooned. "I told you that I am a Queen of Grimm."
The bodies began to shake and convulse. Black smoke pooled from their noses, mouths and eyes to rise and float above each one, and soon we were surrounded by black ghost-like Grimm with bone ribcages. They hovered in the air before Tyrian and Salem like some silent congregation.
"Grimm…" Tyrian breathed. "You turned them into Grimm."
"Was it not your wish? I have become their Queen and Goddess, just as you requested. You would have joined them but for your desire to be my Hero. You cannot be a Hero and a Grimm, after all." Salem floated to the altar and sat down upon it, one leg crossed over the other. "I have but granted your desires, Tyrian. Is it not to your liking?"
"No…" Tyrian's body shook as he looked out over them. "No, it's… it's… it's perfect!"
Salem seemed surprised. "Oh?" She threw back her head and laughed. "Oh Tyrian, I believe you are the perfect candidate to be my Hero. Well then, my Hero, what is to be the next step of your plan?"
"We march on Mistral," Tyrian said, and my eyes widened at the implications. "You need to be established as the true Queen and Goddess of the Kingdom, one who will never abandon her people or turn her back on them. The pretenders need to be cast away and removed from power." The Paragon paused. "But… but we will need an army."
"It stands before you," Salem said. She waved a hand once more and the ghost-like Grimm rushed to the discarded rocks and boulders assorted about the temple. They creaked and groaned their way to life, rising as golems with glowing red eyes. As one, they moved back to stand before Tyrian, utterly ignoring Ruby, Pyrrha and I defeated and slumped in front of them. "Will this suffice, Tyrian? I can create more as you wish, but it will naturally require me to have more… material to work with. I'm sure there are far more above ground who would like to be liberated from their mortal shells."
Tyrian nodded. "Of course, my Goddess."
"Are you mad?" I yelled. "You'll be killing everyone. You'll slaughter the Kingdom you swore to protect!"
"No. Not that. Never that." Tyrian shook his head. "I'll be saving them all. I'll create a new Mistral where people are never cast aside by those they swear their loyalty to. Where no one will ever be made Forsaken."
"By forming a pact with the Grimm!?"
"What better way to protect them?" He cackled at his twisted logic. "Our Goddess would never harm those who are loyal. Humans can serve as well as Grimm, if not better. No more war and death, only eternal happiness serving under our kind and benevolent ruler."
He was mad, or he'd always been mad. What pity I'd felt for him before was thrown aside in the face of what he promised. Would it even stop at Mistral, or would he take his army to Vale, as well? Would Ansel be next? My own family cut down and transformed into cruel parodies of themselves?
My bones shook as I forced myself to stand, muscles bulging against the force of Salem's presence. I managed to kneel and clutch Crocea Mors, and to rise again, even if it left my face slick with sweat.
"I won't let you," I gasped. "I'll stop you myself. We all will."
"Do you hear that, Tyrian?" Salem crooned. "They wish to stop you. To stop me."
Tyrian's eyes were wild. He drew two short swords from his waist.
"I won't let them."
"Kill them, then."
My eyes widened, glancing to the woman as she smiled victoriously. This had been her plan all along and I could still barely move. I could barely move against someone who had apparently been one of the strongest people in all of Mistral.
He was in front of me in an instant, sword lunging for my throat.
Another met it, followed by a shoulder meeting mine as I was hurled to the side. Qrow was covered in dust and bled from a wound above his brow, but he twirled and slashed with his curved sword, driving Tyrian back and away.
I staggered and nearly fell, but caught myself at the last second. I turned towards the golems, but they had backed away to the edges of the temple, cutting off our retreat but not interfering in the fight that Salem watched with curious amusement. She paid no attention to us at all, but I knew from my last attempt that attacking her would be pointless.
Qrow spun and hacked, steel clashing against steel as he sought to push his opponent back, but even to my eyes the fight wasn't going his way. Tyrian ducked under a thrust and knocked the blade aside with one of his, before he twisted the other around and toward Qrow's kidney. The Druid managed to duck back, but the Paragon pushed in and under his guard to slam a hand into his breastbone. Qrow fell back, and was almost beheaded but for his clumsy parry. Even then, the force of it alone threw him back several paces.
What was a Paragon? It had to be a Prestige Class with a name and history like that. Pyrrha had been invited to be the prince's bodyguard, so Tyrian being the late Queen's would make sense. His Stats would have higher grades than a normal person's, and with how much he'd fought, his Level must have been insanely high.
All that told me Qrow couldn't help to win. He was strong, sure, but Tyrian Callows was a figure of legend, forgotten as that legend was. Qrow needed our help.
But I can't move, and neither can the others. My eyes roved up to the balcony everyone else must have still been on, but since none of them had tried to help I had to assume Salem's presence had them pinned down as well. There was no way Yang wouldn't have tried to help Ruby and Qrow otherwise. My mind raced for a solution, and to my horror it fell on the woman responsible for it all.
Her gaze met mine.
"You have something to say, Deceiver?"
"This isn't very fair, you know. Qrow has no chance against Tyrian."
"Should I concern myself with that? His weakness is not my issue."
"No, but you asked Tyrian to kill us," I said. "You specifically instructed him to kill us."
"I did. What of it?"
"If he kills us because we can't move, then it won't be him killing us." I reasoned. The fact her eyes were on mine continued to make my heart race but I forced myself on, no matter how terrifying it was. If I didn't, we'd all surely die. "It won't be him so much as it is you. Do you really want that to happen? It won't prove if he's the right person to be your Hero."
"You are adorable, Deceiver." Salem flashed from the altar and appeared before me, crouched and cupping my face. Where her fingers touched my skin burned and froze at the same time. "Attempting to trick me with word games… that is either incredibly foolish or incredibly brave. Considering you also tried to harm me before, I would suggest the former."
I tried to ignore the agony. "B-But if Tyrian is weak, he won't be able to help you take over Mistral."
"You're forgetting something, silly human. That is his wish. Not mine. I care not for Mistral."
And if she didn't care about that, then she didn't care if Tyrian won or lost, which meant she had no reason to care about how strong he was. Having him fight Qrow wasn't to test him at all but merely something she had orchestrated on a whim.
Keeping us trapped was the same thing, then. Whether she killed us or Tyrian did made no difference.
"But I suppose it would be more entertaining, wouldn't it?" she mused. "Very well, but we shall make a game of it. You are the one who initiated it, so I shall allow you to be the one who chooses."
A game… with her?
"Chooses what?"
"I will release my presence from three of your companions." Her eyes strayed to the balcony the others were behind and she grinned, making sure I knew they hadn't fooled her. "Pick your representatives and I shall free them to face mine."
Just three…?
"What happens if they lose?"
"They die, naturally. But you will die anyway if Tyrian is victorious."
That was true, but the deal felt too good to be true. "What's the catch?"
"I have no need of tricks, Deceiver. I am not like you. What I do, I do for my own purposes. Take my offer or leave it. It is the only one you will receive here."
I swallowed and looked to Pyrrha and Ruby, hoping for their advice. Both were focused on the fight between Tyrian and Qrow however, and judging from Ruby's cries, it wasn't going any more in their protector's favour. Qrow didn't have time, and neither did I. If there were some price to pay, I'd just have to be the one to pay it.
"I choose Pyrrha, Blake and Weiss!"
Not me. Not even close. If our lives were to hang in the balance, it would be on the shoulders of those I felt were the strongest. That meant Pyrrha and Blake for their Levels and skill, and Weiss because she would be the best able to support them with her spells.
Salem's eyes flared. "It is done."
She vanished as a dagger shot through her body to clatter against the flagstones. The dread woman appeared back on her altar, unimpressed and bored as she looked back to Tyrian and Qrow. Hands appeared under my shoulders a second later.
"Jaune," Blake hissed, trying to drag me away.
I batted her hands aside.
"Forget me. Blake, you need to kill Tyrian. You, Qrow, Pyrrha and Weiss." I looked over to the fight in time to see Pyrrha attack the Paragon from behind, catching him off-guard, though not enough to actually score a blow. It gave Qrow time to disengage and counter-attack, but Pyrrha only just managed to block Tyrian's attack with her shield.
"What about you?" Blake asked. "What about her?"
"Forget Salem. If she wants us dead she'll kill us, but I don't think she's able to, at least not directly." I had no basis for the suggestion, but she'd let us live in Atlas and hadn't killed us again here. In fact, she'd instructed Tyrian to do so. "If Tyrian wins, we all die. Please, kill him!" I stared into Blake's eyes and saw the indecision in them. I knew she was thinking of taking me and trying to escape. "I'll be fine, Blake. I promise. Save us. You need to be the Hero."
That did it. Blake nodded and released my shoulders. I fell into a kneeling position with Crocea Mors' tip against the ground. Once she saw I wouldn't keel over, she backed away and nodded.
The melee between Tyrian, Qrow and Pyrrha was frantic, and one so fast-paced that I'd have died the second I tried to intervene. Blows came in fast and hard, shaking the fighters and tearing through anything that got in their way. That Pyrrha could keep up with it – even if just barely – was testament to the strength of her Class and nothing more.
Up on the balcony, a pale figure rose to her feet, white hair falling down before her face as she sagged onto the stone railing, clearly exhausted already from dealing with Salem. Weiss caught herself however and began to weave intricate patterns in the air. Even if she didn't know why she had been released and the others hadn't, she was still prepared to fight.
Tyrian sensed the first barrage of icicles the moment Weiss launched them. He scowled up at her, batted Pyrrha and Qrow aside, and then cut through the spell with ease. Shards of ice fell like crystal snow around him as he shattered them before they could reach his body. He could not reach Weiss in turn however, and Qrow engaged before he could even think of heading for the staircase. Even if he did, Weiss would have surely leapt down to Qrow and the others to keep her distance.
A black shadow detached from the ceiling above and fell towards the Paragon's head as he locked blades with both Pyrrha and Qrow, forcing both back without too much difficulty. Blake materialised from the shadow, a knife drawn, and rushed down towards Tyrian's throat. He had no way to defend himself. We'd done it!
Tyrian cackled and tossed back his head, his Greycloak adornment fluttering away. As it did, my eyes finally noticed what had remained hidden underneath, a black tail made of segmented plates of chitin – and the barbed stinger on the end.
Blake noticed it too as it whipped up to meet her.
Her eyes widened and she crossed both arms in front of her. As the stinger hit, it burst through her body, but in an explosion of smoke instead of blood. The smoke fluttered past him and appeared on the other side, down on the floor as Blake reappeared, crouched with one hand down. She cursed and dove forwards, rolling away from Tyrian as the stinger came down to crack the flagstones where she'd just knelt.
"Watch out for the stinger!" Qrow warned. He yelped and pushed back as it shot for his throat. He managed to parry it aside with his wrist, but was left exposed and took a slash from Tyrian's sword to his chest. It cut through his leather armour and drew blood. Meanwhile, he was able to push Pyrrha back and spin wildly to catch her with the side of his tail. It must have struck her with serious force for she was propelled back into a wall.
With the moment given to him, Tyrian crouched down and pushed up, launching himself into the air and up towards Weiss' hiding spot.
The Mage panicked and erected a wall of ice before her. When Tyrian neared, the wall expanded out towards him and exploded –a ball of flame bursting through. It caught him by surprise and knocked him back down, even if it didn't cause any real harm.
It was enough for Qrow to catch and engage him again, however, while Weiss dispelled the broken wall above and began to rain down spells in support. With his tail now revealed, they had trouble getting through it and his twin blades, and Tyrian seemed able to direct all three with graceful skill, even blocking attacks from Blake and Pyrrha with the chitin plates on his extra limb.
Was he really going to beat all four of them? That was ridiculous. Watts had bested us, but he'd had Roman with him and we'd all been outclassed. Qrow was much stronger than us and would have probably been able to fight equally with the Paladin, so for him and our three stronger members to be held back was insane.
What kind of monster was he?
He's a Hero, I realised, shocked to my core as he caught Blake's wrist in one hand and swung her into Qrow like a missile. The two fell back and Tyrian was soon inside of Pyrrha's guard, scoring a jagged cut to her abdomen and almost gutting her but for Weiss forcing him back with a lance of pure ice.
He was a Hero, and this was what a Hero was capable of if they reached a high enough Level. It wasn't some incredible skill like Cinder's Phoenix, or a frustrating gimmick like Watts' healing spells. This was raw Stats and skill, coupled with a man who knew how to use it after hundreds, if not thousands, of life and death battles. In comparison, we had a few standout examples but nothing like Tyrian's vast experience.
I had to help them.
Even if I couldn't face him head on, I was the only other person capable of at least some movement. I was already on one knee, which was a vast improvement over everyone else. I wasn't sure what I could do, but even if I was just a distraction, it would be enough.
That was… if she allowed me.
Salem sat heedless of my thoughts, her attention focused on the fight. Even so, she'd shown before that she could cross the distance between us in an instant. She could do that now to stop me just as easily.
But if I didn't try, I'd never make it.
One foot before the other, one step after another as I dragged myself forward. I reached Ruby before sagging, falling down onto one knee again, and if it weren't for Crocea Mors, which I used to support myself, I'd have collapsed down beside her.
"Jaune," she grunted, clearly struggling herself. "I… I can't move."
"I barely can either," I gasped. It wasn't like I was tired so much as if I were carrying more weight than I could support on every muscle at once. I looked back to the fight in time to see Blake's eyes glowing as she turned into shadowy mist and twisted from side to side, cutting a zig-zag pattern to throw Tyrian off as she approached. She feinted left, then vanished and came from the right, curving a knife around for his throat.
He caught it almost lethargically on the guard of his short-sword, pushing her up and over, and then using his tail to slam her back down into the ground on the other side of him. At the same time, he gripped his own sword by the blade and used the cross-guard as a hook to drag down Pyrrha's shield. Once it was low he thrust the pommel into her face, stunning the Champion and knocking her back. In the same motion, and before Blake's dagger had managed to fall from her grasp and hit the floor, Tyrian caught and launched it at Weiss.
There was a pained cry from above and a thud as Weiss vanished on the other side of the balcony. She'd been hit by it, though I had no idea where or how. It was all I could do to grip the dagger Blake had thrown earlier and send it skittering across the floor in her direction. The Assassin heard it and stooped to collect it, but she swayed and almost fell over, disoriented and hurt from the beating she'd received.
If it weren't for Qrow occupying – and losing against – Tyrian, then she, Pyrrha and Weiss would have surely been killed.
"I don't get it," I said. "He's too strong, even for someone so high a level. What is a Paragon, anyway?"
"It's a myth," Ruby answered. "M-Mom used to tell me about them." She strained to move until her face was red, but there was nothing she could do. "P-Paragons are the perfect class," she panted. "They're meant to be paragons of what it means to be a Hero. They're perfect in every regard."
"What does that mean?"
"A-Rank Stats across the board."
Horrified, I stared down at her. "All of them?"
"I-I think so. It's just a legend, though. I don't know if Mom was right, or if it was true."
It might not be but the possibility was enough to frighten me. The differences between my A and D Stats were big, and there had been consecutive Levels where I hadn't earned a single Stat in my Charisma. On the other hand, I'd gained anywhere between three and four levels per A, and even five once or twice. If Tyrian were Level eighty or higher, and had A-Stats across each of his parameters, then there was no telling how powerful he was.
"We need to help them," I decided.
"How? I can't move." She strained again to prove her point. "I don't know how you can."
"With great effort…"
"Even if we could get close, we'd be more a distraction for them than him," she pointed out. "Blake would freak if you were in danger, and Uncle Qrow would do the same for me."
She was right. I cursed and looked around the temple, trying to find some way of helping or something I could use to even the fight. The balcony ringed one side of the arena, but they were fighting away from it and I couldn't collapse that both because of the others trapped up there, but also because I could barely move, let alone push over a stone pillar.
The dead bodies and golems were everywhere, but I had no idea what I could do with those. Salem clearly didn't intend to have them get involved, but that didn't mean anything. They could spring to life if I got close.
That left Salem herself and the altar she was sat on. Could I end her summons, somehow? If she disappeared then the presence holding us down would as well. We'd still have to deal with Tyrian, but there would be more of us to do it. I had no idea how she was even summoned though, let alone what I'd need to do to end it. She had simply granted Merlot his wish and left him to die, but this time she looked to be sticking around.
Was that because of the nature of Tyrian's wish?
"He wants her to be the Queen and Goddess of Mistral," I whispered. "She has to stick around to do that, which means she can't leave until it's fulfilled." There were a lot of assumptions there, but I didn't have the time to read up on my Grimm-demon summoning textbooks. "Does that mean we have to kill him before she'll leave? That's back to square one."
And what did she get out of this, anyway? Why grant Tyrian's wish but so markedly twist Merlot's to his early demise? I didn't buy her story about it being fulfilled. It had been, but she'd clearly led him into making a wish she knew she could misunderstand and kill him with.
"You're staring, Deceiver," Salem remarked coyly. "Does my visage entice you so? I'm afraid it would take more than one wish to try and claim me."
I shivered at the thought but forced myself to stand and move towards her. I heard Ruby call out for me to stop but ignored her. I ignored the fight too, knowing full-well it would be going against us. Instead, I forced myself towards her, Crocea Mors scratching across the flagstones as it trailed behind me, gripped weakly in one hand.
Salem watched me curiously. I was no threat to her and she knew that, so she simply placed one hand down on the altar and shifted her weight so that she could better face me as I stumbled and staggered towards her. My eyes spotted a book on the altar, perhaps how Tyrian had found the ritual to summon her. That wouldn't do me any good unless it was literally opened to the `how to get rid of Salem` page, and since it was currently closed that was out of the question.
I eventually came to a halt not three metres from her. So close, her presence was even more overwhelming and my breath came out in light gusts of frosted air. Her eyes, red like blood, gazed curiously into mine. She did not seem concerned or interested, merely curious.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"Doing what, Deceiver?"
"Why grant Tyrian his wish?"
"Because I cannot do otherwise." She patted the altar with one hand. "You heard my words… and have heard them twice now. I am bound to the ritual that summons me. I am bound to grant a pact."
"Why? How?"
Salem chuckled and brought one porcelain hand up to rest beneath her chin. She regarded me like I was an interesting speck of dust. "I would normally demand payment for such information, but I shall indulge you this once. I am a being contracted from another plane. You might think of me as a demon, or even a Goddess, but those are human terms for human minds. Call me what you will. I am merely myself. I call myself Salem, thus you may call me that."
"And you grant wishes?"
"I grant pacts, Deceiver. Remember that. I forge contracts."
"What's the difference?"
"A wish is freely given. A pact is an agreement of a contract, and contracts require… payment. I grant boons, you might call them wishes. In return, I receive something of equal value. It is an exchange."
"A soul?"
She rolled her eyes. "What use would I have of your pathetic souls? Do you imagine I have a place to barter them, a collection for my home? Please, do not think of yourselves so highly."
"What, then? Is it the sacrifices? The negativity?"
"That is merely to capture my attention," Salem said. "Think of it as the price of summoning me. Merlot sacrificed those animals atop a mountain of snow, but he made a mistake. He killed them slowly and in front of their loved ones, and as their minds shattered and their despair settled in, they ceased to feel the same range of emotions." She sighed and waved one hand in the air. "Silly little man. On the other hand, his betrayal of a woman who loved him dearly was more than enough to catch my interest." Her eyes narrowed. "And my ire."
"Your ire? Why? You're a Grimm."
"I am Grimm, as you have so eloquently pointed out. Negativity is sustenance to us, but for one such as I, the exact type can make all the difference. I prefer my betrayal to have a tint of anger, but hers came with memories, despair and sadness." Her face twisted. "I did not like. It tasted of love."
That was it? That was the sole reason she'd turned Merlot into a monster and robbed him of his mind? It seemed unbelievably cruel, and unbelievably puerile as well. And yet… I wasn't dealing with someone who was human, so why try to understand her in human terms? Childish as it may have been and vengeful as she was, that might just be normal to her.
The thought made me shiver, especially the idea that she had tastes as to what kind of pain she enjoyed the most.
"I see your disgust, but it is a different matter to one such as I. The exact flavour of one's pain is what truly counts. Tyrian is a particularly beautiful example."
"You weren't summoned by the sacrifices," I realised. "You were summoned by his grief."
"Well done, Deceiver. You are not as foolish as you appear."
"What do the Greycloaks want with you?"
"Those words mean nothing to me." Salem's bored expression suggested she was telling the truth, if she'd ever lied in the first place. Like she'd said before, lies were for humans. It was possible she just didn't care enough about us to figure out who was summoning her.
"How many times have you been summoned here recently?" I asked instead.
"You have seen me for the last two times," she said. "And this saw me the time before." Her hand was suddenly pressed against my bare chest, burning my skin, but more importantly she had pushed something ice-cold against me.
"My amulet…?"
"Yours?" she asked with a coy smile. "This belonged to someone else, I do believe."
"I-I found it."
"He died, then. A shame."
"Who-?"
"No one you need concern yourself with. A man once summoned me, and he wore that same amulet. That you wear it now is proof of his demise. Unless you purchased it from him, I suppose."
"I found it on the floor in the forest near my home."
"Dead, then." Salem chuckled. "It is yours now, I suppose. Treasure it. He certainly did."
I shook my head and stepped back from her burning and freezing hand, and then nearly stumbled from her presence. I only just caught myself with one foot, and the sudden break from her influence reminded me of what was happening behind. Blake cried out in pain, and Weiss cried out her name. I didn't have the time to think any further. I gripped Crocea Mors with two hands and dragged it before me.
Salem made no move to stop me, even as I fought past the agony required to raise it up above my head.
"You realise that will not harm me," she pointed out.
"I know that," I whispered. My smile was strained. "But does he…?" I raised my voice and shouted at the top of my lungs. "I banish thee, Salem! Be gone from this world!"
"NO!" Tyrian screamed.
Crocea Mors swept down.
Tyrian's blades pierced into my unprotected back.
Blake, Qrow, Weiss and Pyrrha's did the same to his.
A silence descended on the temple.
The pain was indescribable. I sagged forward but found myself propped up, both by Tyrian, who had pinned me to him through two swords lodged into my body, and by Salem, who had so casually caught the tip of my sword between her finger and thumb. Blood dribbled out from between my lips, splashing down onto the floor. I felt moisture pooling behind me, pressed into my back by the weight of another body against mine – and then three against that.
"Pain, sorrow, and the acidic tang of grim satisfaction at a job well done…" Salem whispered. Her eyes bore into mine even as she let out an irritated sigh. "Your pain is not as enticing as your conversation, Deceiver. I'm disappointed."
"I… I have a tendency to do that…"
As four swords were drawn from Tyrian's back, and his two were drawn from mine, I collapsed onto the floor at the demon's feet, lifeblood pooling out across the altar.
Tyrian slumped beside me, face-down in a pool of his own blood.
Well, that feels like a good point to end the chapter – and to take my week holiday next week. So, as people may know I am having the 25th – 31st off to rest, so I'll be back on the 1st of the New Year with the next chapter of this. This chapter is pretty lore heavy, even if it's mixed with action and the Tyrian's battle.
Gods, it's quite the chapter for revealing some things and hinting at others. Because people also love to look at the things I do and say "Oh, this is from X" or "I recognise this from Y anime", I'll pre-empt it and say that Salem's inspiration for this fic actually came from Skyrim, and not an anime.
Next Chapter: 1st January
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur
