Hey all. There's actually a new bit of fanart for Forged Destiny from "Mystery White Flame" on Deviant Art, which portrays Jaune using his "magical blacksmith hands" on Penny. Feel free to check it out if you're interested. Google can find it.
I'll just say that this chapter is going to be short. I woke up this morning with breathing problems and will be going to a doctor later today. I'm not going to jump to silly conclusions, but it hurts on the right side of my chest when I draw in a breath. I'm thinking it's a viral infection in my chest or lungs, which isn't normally all that threatening. It's hard to focus with it, though. Harder to write.
Beta: College Fool
Cover Art: Dishwasher1910
Book 9: Chapter 5
A low and moaning wail rose up from behind the walls, the cries and pleas of the populace reaching a fever pitch that almost drowned out the thoughts of anyone on the walls. Mixed among them were sonorous chants begging for forgiveness and salvation, along with some simply praising Salem and praying she would take them into her warm embrace. Far more were those who simply wept.
I wanted to say it wasn't the first time Vale had been under siege within the last five years, but that wasn't accurate. While the Kingdom itself had been at war with Mistral, the capitol city had only seen action at the end, the brief attack on the stadium and the death of Cinder Fall. While that had been brutal, it had also been over quickly, and Mistral had focused its attention on killing Hero and Soldier Caste, not Labour. There had been rules to the affair. This was different.
My eyes roamed over the Grimm, fingers digging into the stone crenellations as Soldiers around me tightened their armour, shuffled and drew long and deep breaths. The refugees were inside now, having finally been ushered through the gates. That left the Heroes outside – my friends among them – trapped outside the wall and funnelling inward. If the Grimm horde charged, they'd be caught with half of them outside the walls still. It would be a massacre.
The Grimm didn't advance.
They moved, that much I could see. Beowolves stirred on the fronts and what I assumed to be Nevermore flew above. A wall of black, white and red stood before them but didn't move to attack the Heroes stranded outside, nor did it try to encircle the city. If anything, it seemed content to just sit there.
"What are they waiting for?" a nearby soldier asked. "We're caught with our pants down."
"How the fuck did the scouts not spot this? How do you miss that?"
"Maybe they didn't," someone said. "Maybe the scouts are dead."
Blake. My gut clenched.
"They're not doing anything. Just standing there."
"Think they're gathering more? Should we attack first?"
"You want to go up against that many Grimm? We defend the walls. That's our job. And we'll do it until the world comes crashing down. Harghhh!" The speaker stabbed his spear into the sky, a motion echoed by all the other Soldier Caste members on Beacon's walls, who cheered, rattled their weapons and chanted `victory` over and over.
I knew they were only doing it to keep their spirits up in an overwhelming situation. I wasn't afraid to admit their bravado helped me as well. I felt just a little stronger.
The Heroes were inside the gates now and those were being drawn shut with an audible groan and a slam. From our position on walls higher than most of the city, we could see the general populace being slowly dispersed through the streets, led by people dressed in red toward what I assumed were areas designated by the refugees. The city was about to become very cramped.
Those not of the Labour Caste moved up onto the walls – or tried to. I saw some climb up but others were pushed back by those already on them and left in the streets, confused. Someone came and led them away. It was all too far for me to make out details; only crowds of brightly coloured people that were moving toward Beacon.
It must have been the students. They had been working outside and would have tried to scale the walls when Salem appeared, ready to fight. I knew because it was what I would have done in their positions. Of course, the outer walls of Vale were manned by Heroes far stronger than us, graduates from the last two generations of Beacon. I could only imagine that was Miss Goodwitch down there telling the others to stay out from underfoot.
"Arc!" a voice yelled. "Jaune Arc!"
My eyes snapped back toward the school, where Ozpin had left the main building. He must have seen the army from his tower.
"Jaune Arc!"
I jogged past the Soldiers on the walls and down one of the wooden ramps, feet thud-thudding on every step until I reached the bottom. I had to run up to the stairs leading up to Beacon's peak and then climb those as well. By the time I reached the top, I was panting a little. Anyone with less Constitution than I would have been on the verge of collapse. "I-I'm here," I gasped. "You wanted me, sir?"
"Yes." Ozpin met me quickly. "We're meeting with Salem."
"What!?"
"She is waiting out there," he said, nodding in her direction. "We know not why but she is still a month early. We need that time. You, I and the King will be parlaying with her." Ozpin waved a hand and some servants came forward with silvery armour. "Wear this. It is the uniform and heraldry of a member of the King's Royal Guard."
My jaw dropped. "R-Royal Guard-?"
"This isn't a promotion, more necessity. You're the only one who Salem has ever spoken to before and you have a unique relationship with her. If she will speak to anyone, it will be you. However, we cannot march out there a King, a Sage and a Blacksmith. The people will be watching, and we must portray a certain image – one in which the King speaks with our great enemy. The Royal Guard speak with the influence of the King."
Meaning that even if I spoke with her, it would look to the people it was under orders from the King. That would remind everyone our ruler was someone unafraid to deal directly with a monster. That I'd be faking it didn't matter; the King would still be out there. I nodded and stepped toward the servants, letting them help strap the armour in place.
It was fantastically heavy. The plate was solid and covered me from shoulder to toes in thick, silvery metal that glinted in the sunlight. Great pauldrons covered my shoulders and even obscured my vision somewhat if I looked to the left and right. The graves were segmented, and the breastplate extended downward with chainmail hanging from the bottom interwoven with golden badges marking the emblem of Vale. Another was stamped over my heart, while a buckle on each shoulder held up a royal blue cloak that fell and flowed down behind me.
A helmet was offered, full faced, but Ozpin stopped me from putting it on. "Keep it on your belt. Fully arming yourself is reserved for war. It's considered a sign of peace to show your face at times like this."
"Do you think Salem knows that?"
"No. But our people on the walls do."
I surrendered to Ozpin's knowledge and hooked the helmet onto an attachment designed for it. Apart from being heavy, the armour made me feel like a golem. I could move in it, but only because of my frankly ridiculous Strength stat. Most people would have toppled under the strain of it. Perhaps that was the point; that to be a Royal Guard you needed to have such Strength as a minimum. I stooped and picked up Crocea Mors from where I'd laid her, attaching her to my sword belt.
"Come." Ozpin beckoned me follow. "Our horses are being prepared. Until we're outside the walls, you will ride with the King. Alongside, but behind. Do not ride ahead or with him, but close enough to intercept harm while remaining subservient."
"Is this really a good idea?" I had to ask. "We've no guarantee she won't just kill us."
"You are our guarantee, Mr Arc. But as for your first question, no. This is not a good idea." Ozpin's mouth drew down into a frown. "But it's all we have."
/-/
The gates opened once more and the three of us rode out, King Galan in the lead, me behind and to his left and Ozpin to his right in the same position, a triangle of mounted figures making our way at a sedate walk toward the invading army. An army which, I reminded myself, was comprised of vicious monsters bent on rending human flesh. There was no discipline, honour or mercy keeping them from deciding the three idiots walking out toward them needed to be killed.
If anything, Faith was calmer than I was. That might have had something to do with the other mounts, who she naturally followed and took lead from. My never-quite-faithful mount had taken the increased weight of my armour with ease and honestly seemed pleased to be outside the walls again. It was just one more way in which my horse and I disagreed; I'd rather be inside.
I couldn't see the King's face, but Ozpin's was serene. The Sage for once looked his Class – long and flowing robes of blue and white that were so clean they had to be new. Golden chains hung from his neck, adorned upon which were various symbols. His stave was in hand, pointed down toward the ground as his other guided his palomino gelding with the other.
It was an act as much as my new uniform, one that didn't match my rank. As we'd approached the gates and met with the King, people bowed not only to him but to me as well. I wasn't sure they saw my Class as `Blacksmith` at all, only the uniform and the cloak. To be fair, their eyes were probably either on the Grimm or the King. Who cared for a random guard? People had been too busy begging us to make peace with her, to drive her away without a fight, to pay attention.
We were halfway between the walls of Vale and the Grimm horde and they had yet to attack. Nothing moved toward us either. I could see a congregation in the centre, however, a larger, taller, section of Grimm that stood out because of how much bigger they were. They had moved toward the front of the army and, for a brief moment, the wall of black opened, revealing a figure that was almost all white in colour.
"The witch makes us come to her," King Galan remarked. "She will not meet us halfway."
"She does not need to, your liege," Ozpin said. "She holds the cards and we all know this. If we go closer, we shall have no hope of escaping should things turn bad."
"And yet if we turn back now, the people will be dispirited. How can I ask good men and women to stand and die on my walls if I do not dare place myself at the same risk?" The King nudged his mount. "We move closer. I would look upon the face of the one who would destroy us."
If the King died here, I knew it would be a disaster. He wasn't a fighter so much as a figurehead, but he was still someone a lot of people looked up to. And if Ozpin died as well, one of the strongest Heroes in Vale, we'd be in even worse trouble.
Compared to that, I really was just a Blacksmith. High-levelled, but far below the average for Heroes.
"I'll go." My words, while impertinent, brought the two men to silence. "You'd normally have a guard announce a meeting, right? Introduce the King and make sure both sides are prepared to honour it. I can go on ahead and talk to her."
Ozpin sighed and looked away, so clearly frustrated to be thinking of asking such of a student, and yet both he and I knew him going in my place would be pointless. Apart from our relative worth to the defence, Salem had shown no inclination to treat with him.
"Are you sure?" the King asked. He didn't look down on me for speaking out. In fact, he sounded guilty. "You were not brought here to be cast aside as a sacrifice for this monster. You do not need to do this."
"No, but I was brought along because I'm one of the few people Salem has spared before. I… I don't think she'll kill me here." I looked to the Grimm. "Not because she wants to spare me, but because I think she wants to crush me properly. She wants me to be the last person alive as Vale crumbles, so she can laugh in my face and only then kill me."
"Disgusting." King Galan gripped his reins. "That such evil could exist."
"Would you expect any less of one who would command the Grimm, my liege?" Ozpin turned from the King to me. "Yours is the correct decision, Jaune. I hate saying it, but it simply is. Go. But if the Grimm move to attack you, flee. I may be able to buy you the time to escape. The Archmage is already prepared to open a portal should we need it. Do not shy away from any you see."
"Convince her to come out here," the King added. "Aside from respect, it would do for those on the walls to see she who we must kill. It will put the onus on her as well. If she refuses, she appears the coward."
That wouldn't mean anything to her mindless hosts, but it would do a lot for our side. Silly bravado as it may have been, it would still make everyone feel just that little bit more confident. We needed that.
I nudged Faith forward and we trotted toward the Grimm. I wondered what I must have looked like to the people on the wall; a single figure in silver and blue riding to the enemy. Maybe I looked heroic, or perhaps I was a suicidal fool.
As I got closer, the Grimm parted, forming a channel that funnelled me inwards. Faith came to a slow trot, tossing her head nervously. I reached down to pat her flank. "I know, girl. I'm not liking this either. Be brave. One of us has to be."
Tossing her head some more, she snorted at several Grimm that growled and hissed back. They were held by force of will or command, buckling against their instincts to attack but unable or unwilling to do so. They didn't fall in behind me and cut off my escape. For that, I was grateful, even if I was now in the middle of an army easily several hundred thousand strong. I wondered how many I could kill if they all attacked en masse. Three? Four? If they came at once, I'd be lucky to get my sword out of one before I was overwhelmed.
Eventually, I saw her. Salem stood upon the back of a squat beetle-like Grimm with a thick and armoured carapace. It had a raised piece of chitinous armour that had morphed somehow into the shape of a throne and she stood before that, black robes flowing to cover her feet and arms by her side. Her crimson eyes were fixed on me, her lips tugged upwards into a cruel parody of a smile.
Before her, ringed around the beetle-Grimm, a throng of Grimm I'd never seen before moved out of my way. They seemed to be her personal guard of sorts – huge and hulking things with thick leathery skin and armoured bone plates on their chests and shoulders. What caught my attention more as the thick and bulging ripples of skin around their neck and reaching down their backs. They looked like wings, and yet the things were clearly too heavy to fly with them. Shields, perhaps? Were they designed to fan out and intercept arrow or spellfire?
I tore my eyes off them and toward her, bringing Faith to a stop. She paced sideways, turning ready to flee if things got hairy and leaving me to look at Salem over one large pauldron. Salem was silent, waiting for something. It took me a second to realise what it was.
"Salem," I said, nodding.
Her smile grew. "Jaune."
Rituals of a sort, a greeting. Was that something to do with her nature, or just her own way of making me acknowledge her presence? It was hard to say. It might just as easily have been a whim.
"You're early," I said. "A whole month early."
"I've never been good at keeping up with human time. Your lives pass so quickly." Salem strode toward the edge of her Grimm and looked me up and down. "You've been promoted, I see. My, you certainly are moving up in the world."
"It's a temporary thing. The King wishes to speak with you."
"Do I care to speak with him? He is not my King."
"It would show respect-"
"But I do not respect him."
My teeth ground together. "Will you speak with him?" I tried again. "What would it cost you, really? Or are you planning to attack straight away? That wouldn't be very sporting."
"Sporting?"
"You said you'd give us two months to prepare and you haven't. If you attack now, you might win, but you'd forever be left wondering if you only won because you cheated. Wouldn't it mean more to defeat us without doing so?"
Salem stared at me. Her eyes were, for once, surprised. For a second, I dared to think I'd shocked her – and that was true – but it was not in the way I'd hoped.
She burst out laughing.
"Oh! Oh, that is delightful. You're trying to appeal to a sense of competitiveness within me. Or is that pride? Ego? Oh Jaune, why would I have need of such things? I am the only one of my kind. There is no one for me to show off to, no one to impress and no one to hold myself to such ideals to. The death of your kind is not something for me to feel pride in. It simply is." She wiped an invisible tear from her eye, regaining control of her mirth. "It doesn't matter to me if I destroy you now or in a month's time. It's all the same to me."
My hands tightened on the reins. Angry, I blurted out the first thing to cross my mind.
"I'd judge you!"
Salem froze.
"I'd judge you," I said again, louder. "I'd call you a coward who went back on her word because she was afraid of us."
"You play a dangerous game, Jaune."
"You've said that before. I'm still playing it." I adjusted my hands on the reins. "Will you come speak with the King and Ozpin? I can guarantee your safety if you're afraid." The barb was intentional.
"Very well. I will meet with your leaders." Salem raised a hand and a pool of darkness appeared before her. Faith shied back, snorting nervously as what appeared to be a horse born of black flesh and bone grew up from the ground. It was taller than mine and moved unnaturally, as though it lacked any mannerisms of personality of its own. Slowly, it knelt its forelegs down, bending low so that Salem could step off the beetle's back and onto it.
Two of the large bodyguard Grimm stepped up beside her.
"You would not begrudge me company, I hope. There are three of you and but one of me. Or would it frighten your leaders too much?"
"I'm sure they'll be fine."
"Hmph." Salem snorted, amused. "Lead on, then. If nothing else, this should be entertaining."
/-/
Riding back to Ozpin and the King was an awkward affair. Salem rode alongside me, so close that I could have reached out and shoved her from her horse. Faith didn't like the horse either and would have shied away from it if that didn't mean moving us closer to the hulking monstrosity on my left. The other bodyguard Grimm was on the other side of Salem, us in the centre.
I'd have preferred to ride ahead and prepare them, but Salem insisted that if she was really going to be asked to waste her time doing this, it would be immediately.
How Ozpin maintained such a calm face I'd no idea. As we came to a halt, I nudged Faith ahead so that I was stood between the two parties.
"King of Vale, Galan ap'Falar," I said. "And Salem, Queen of the Grimm?" It was a question, Salem haven taken no title that I could recall.
"Queen, hm?" Salem was amused. "I like that. Perhaps I shall claim it as my own. Well then, let us get this out of the way. I have been told that you wish to entreat with me. Do so. Though I have all day and more, you do not necessarily have the same."
"As you wish." King Galan frowned but nodded his head in a clear gesture of respect. "I am King Galan, lord of the lands of Vale and the city you and your army find yourself outside of. You have engaged war upon my lands and threaten my people. I would ask why."
"Why? Because I wish it so. There is no other reason."
"Why do you wish to destroy Vale?"
"Vale? Is that what this land is called?" Salem looked around as though she was seeing it for the first time. "Interesting, I suppose. It does not look like a vale. It might just as easily have been called anything else. Fjord, perhaps? Meadow. Clifftop, Riverside or even Del'Anar'A'Rhannorhanenan."
The last sounded like gibberish, words and tones mashed together.
"It is none of those things. This is Vale."
"But was it always? I believe it had a name before and it will have a name after. Maybe I shall name it after myself. Or perhaps there will be nothing left to name. The point that I am making, King," the title was delivered with mocking sarcasm, "-is that your titles, your names and your Kingdoms are meaningless to me. I care not that this is Vale. I am not invading Vale. An invasion implies a desire to take and hold, or to capture land. This is no such thing. My target is your pathetic species and my goal is complete and utter eradication."
Ozpin leaned back. His stave came up just a little, ready to cast if needs be. He was more reserved than I. As soon as the words crossed her lips, any hope I'd had died. This wasn't like Mistral at all. Even if Mistral won, life would have gone on. A new King, a new culture and changes, but people would have lived. Salem didn't care for that. She only wanted to reduce us to ash.
"Why?" Galan asked the pertinent question. "What could prompt such hate?"
"You ask me that?" Salem laughed. "I have lived an eternity of being summoned to your pathetic plane of existence to pander to your kind's selfishness. I wish. I wish. I wish." She sneered the words. "I hate those words. And when I turn them back on and kill all who utter them, not only am I the monster but you do not stop summoning me. One would think your foolish ilk would learn sooner or later, but I cannot kill you fast or hard enough to make the lesson stick. That changes now. The line has been crossed and one of your wishes has seen me torn from my home against my will and force to reside in your pathetic world."
"We did not make that wish," Ozpin said.
"You may not have been the one to utter the words, but you and your kind are complicit. You did not stop them being spoken, nor did you learn from the mistakes of the past. You have had thousands of years to stop. Those opportunities are now past."
"And is that fair?" the King asked. "You call it unfair that you have been torn from your home – and I agree – but is it justice to lay the blame at the feet of innocent children?"
"Did I ever claim to be a being of justice?" Salem spread her arms, inviting them to look upon her pallid skin, red eyes and vein-filled complexion. "You kill animals for food without sympathising for their plight. Though I may look and sound like one of you, know that I choose to portray myself this way. Our kinds are not alike."
"What if we could send you back?" I asked. Ozpin shot me a warning look, but I had to ask the question. "If we could make it so you'd go back to your dimension, wouldn't that fix the problem?"
"And could you ensure no one summons me again?"
I hesitated. "We could try…"
"It matters not. Her wish was that I would be `bound to the laws of this world`. That has become absolute. I can no longer grant wishes even if I desired to, nor can I leave, even if the opportunity was presented. I am a prisoner in this wretched dimension."
"I apologise for what has been done to you," King Galan said. "You have been wronged. We need not be enemies, however. Live with us. Perhaps you will find new happiness and something to appreciate here." He gestured to me. "You've already struck a rapport with one of my subjects. Perhaps that could go further."
My jaw dropped.
Was he – Was he suggesting I be married off to Salem?
I stared at her.
Salem stared back. And then laughed.
"Oh my! What a delightful suggestion. I'm not sure Jaune would agree, however. Nor do I. Our relationship – yes, I suppose that is the correct phrase – is an outlier. Would that the world was filled with people like him, I might not destroy it, but I will not spare you for an exception and our `romance` has soured of late." Salem smirked at me. "I am sorry, Jaune. I will have to say no."
"I wasn't about to say yes…" I growled back.
"You will not try, then?" Galan asked, not missing a beat. "Even if you reject this, there might be other things you come to enjoy. Culture, entertainment, company. You have said yourself that your life will last eternal. What is the harm in taking a hundred years to sample our world before you destroy it? You can always choose to do so later, but it's not so easy to take eradication back."
"An interesting proposal, but ultimately flawed." Salem shook her head slowly. "I will destroy your kind. I can do no less. I am bound to the laws of your world, the system of your world. I am the Goddess of the Grimm. And tell me, what is it that the Grimm do?"
It was Ozpin who answered. "They destroy."
"Yes. And tell me more, what would someone bound by the system of the Grimm be made to do?"
"Destroy." Ozpin tensed. "You are compelled to destroy us?"
"Compulsion suggests I find no pleasure in it or would not had I the choice. My desires are in line with this, but the statement is not incorrect. Poor Raven; she truly believed she had found the perfect wish, and yet like so many others, there were flaws."
"This is meaningless, then," Galan said. "You cannot leave us in peace even if you did desire it."
"I cannot. And I was not the one who chose to waste your time this way. You came here to speak with me." Salem turned her steed sideways. "I believe we are done here, no? There is little need for more words between us."
"I suppose there is not." Galan nodded. "Thank you for speaking with us."
I looked down, angry but unsurprised. I hadn't expected anything less than this, but that didn't stop the disappointment running through me. My shoulders rose and fell as an explosive sigh burst from my lips.
"You will have your month."
Surprise struck. I looked up. Salem was looking back to her horde but speaking to us still.
"It seems I have come early, and you are not yet prepared. I will give you thirty days. The Grimm shall not attack until then. You may build your fortifications, gather your supplies and even continue bringing in your refugees. We will not encircle the city until the last day."
"Why?" Ozpin asked. "Why do this?"
"Why not? It makes no difference to me in the end." Salem looked back. Her eyes met mine. "But I will be better than the monsters your kind are. I gave my word and I will honour it." She turned away fully. "Tell your people not to harm my Grimm or I shall consider it a declaration of war and the attack shall begin imminently. Any who enter my domain shall be slain."
Salem's steed carried her away. Rather than turn to follow, her bodyguards moved backward, membranes rattling around their necks as though ready to react to any attack on her unprotected back.
"Oh, and one last thing," she called. "A message for you, Jaune."
Tensing, I called out. "Yes?"
"Whatever our relationship has been, whatever I might think of you, this is the last time I shall let you walk away." Her eyes pierced into mine as she looked back over her shoulder. "The next time we stand before one another, you shall die."
Salem turned and trotted away.
Time for me to go to the doctor. Or this afternoon anyway. Like I said, I think it's just a bad cold or something, so I don't think it'll impact me in any serious way or on other fanfiction. It's just bad enough today that I can't concentrate. Every breath has me rubbing my chest. It's not a painful thing. Stinging, but hardly "ouch" worthy. More "Hm, I feel this every time I breathe" and it can't be ignored because of that.
Anyway, I'll be fine.
As for this chapter, I suppose what I'm trying to show is the concept that few villains see themselves as villains. Salem genuinely does see herself as human and them as monsters. In a manner of speaking, anyway. Not "human" but she is "normal" and humans are the cruel extra-dimensional monsters who deserve to die. Humans are Grimm to her... in a sense.
Next Chapter: 22nd July
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur
