Artificer Book 2: ?

Chapter 39: Tales Told By Dead Friends

"...'What can this be?' To bid that question, Maiden o' mine, is to prove oneself a Craftsman, a Blacksmith, a Man of the Forge—one who looks upon the raw and dreams and yearns of what it can become. We Artificers are not of their ken. For we will look upon the same resource—be it man, woman, or steel—and wonder not how they can be elevated, but how they can be made to serve..."

Admittedly, it took a few days before he managed to walk without the damn catheter. And the very moment he could, he made straight for the library, dragging along one Ruby Rose. She was surprisingly knowledgeable on the subject—glowing eyes connected to fairy tales. Well, it was probably because silver eyes were on the metaphorical serving dish.

Did she already know about it?

"The Silver-Eyed Warrior and the Maiden," Ruby said, grinning as she placed a stack of books on their table. Apparently, she already did. "There's also The Maiden and the Minstrel Knight, The Four Seasons, The Old Man and the Seat, and—"

"The Maiden and the Artificer," Nex said, shifting in his seat. They settled for a lone corner behind two shelves and a desk lined with other students. The golden vines on the thing popped out, even if its midnight-blue sleeve was sandwiched between two others. "It's kinda my favourite."

Ruby plopped down beside him, leafing through a book's worn pages. "Artificer, right?"

Right.

The Maiden and the Artificer.

It was the tale of an ancient smith—a pioneer of the stars. One who forged artefacts long lost to their world's history, together with his trusty companion: the Maiden, the woman who imbued his creations with magic. She defied the laws of nature, flicking her wrist to conjure calamities and miracles out of nothing. An impossibility, as even their semblances had to draw from aura and concrete materials like dust.

But still, most importantly, her eyes glowed.

Well, the whole thing was probably just a fairy tale. Magic definitely did not exist. But then again, silver eyes and glowing eyes were real. Well, maybe glowing eyes were not exactly magical. Perhaps they were simply defects brought about by mutation. Or aura, even. Just like how the faunus seemed to be mutations derived from the human genome.

"If you're the Artificer," Ruby said, smirking. Her pointy elbow nudged his arm. "Then Weiss is your Maiden, right?"

Huh. That was a thought.

Nex shrugged, glancing at the wide, varnished doors across the hall. "Maybe. Magic isn't real, though."

If it was, then people should have been using it more. Or at least, more evidence of it should have been recorded. Besides, if magic was real, then it should have been in a thesis somewhere. Not stuck between the pages of a dusty old fairy tale.

"It'd be cool, though," Ruby said. She sighed, snapping the book shut. "Just imagine it. Wizards and knights everywhere. Heroes."

Nex shrugged, scanning through The Four Seasons. No heroes allowed. "Nope. Heroes don't really exist, do they?"

Ruby pulled out a red book. "Yep. Heroes exist. My mom's a hero."

Summer Rose.

Of course. Ruby Rose would think her mother was a hero.

Well, everything was relative.

Was Amariss Shade a hero?

Nope. Most definitely not. His mother was no hero—or at least, not the fairy tale definition of the word. Nor was he, in hindsight.

"And Nex," Ruby whispered, frowning. "Your dad's also a hero."

Great. Evidently, Yang did tell him the truth. Now if only they could stop endorsing his father, then everything would be perfect. It was, well, most definitely grating. Like shards of broken glass rubbing his extra pair of ears.

"Nope," Nex said, rolling his eyes. He cupped his cheek, easing the knots loose. The cons of being a Broody Face. "No heroes allowed."

Heroes died too often, anyway. Becoming a villain was definitely much better than being dead. Or, well, living long enough to become the villain.

Ruby propped the book open with one hand, sifting through its yellow-encrusted pages with the other. "He's an awesome uncle. If you just gave him a chance—"

"Look. Let's just finish up," Nex said. A chance? Did his mother even get a chance? No fucking way. "What's on it? About glowy eyes."

"Why are you so angry?" Ruby said, scowling. She rose in her seat, staring him down. Her eyes glowed silver. But it was probably just his overactive imagination. "He came back, didn't he?"

Not this again.

"Yep. He came back," Nex said, heat rising from his stomach and smothering his chest. The other students flitted about in the library, quiet as rats. "After disappearing for ten years. Without so much as a damn note."

Ruby blinked, practically sinking into her chair. "What?"—her voice shrunk into the back of her throat—"But he always gets us presents..."

Well, that was an amazing tidbit. Wonderful, even. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. And probably all the other swear words in his dictionary of expletives. It certainly spoke a lot about Qrow Branwen—dicking around with his cute little nieces while his own son was scraping the bottom of a dumpster for next day's meal—

Screw it.

There was no point in thinking about his father.

His mother would have definitely agreed.

Was it better if Qrow actually put on a damn condom?

Nope. No way. If his father did, then he would have never met Weiss or any of their friends. Gods forbid, but it was something to be grateful for.

And to be... happy for, even.

"Well, there's your answer," Nex said, pulling out his scroll. A document flashed on the screen, his fingers typing in some new stuff. Great. Now he was doing research on glowy eyes and magic. It was practically one slip away from the loony bin. "Far be it from me to impose on my father."

Pareidolia hummed, processing the data. But still, there was no way to form a concrete conclusion. Definitely not when they were sourcing it from fairy tales. Of all the reliable references in the world.

Silver eyes. Maidens. Seasons. Magic.

Whatever it was connecting them, it had to exist.

Right?

Cinder Fall was out there with her glowy eyes—

Wait.

What if Cinder Fall was a Maiden?

It was a credible hypothesis. And if she was, then her weakness was sitting right beside him. That is, if The Silver-Eyed Warrior and the Maiden was a reliable source.

But placing Ruby in Cinder's path was foolish, especially when all they had going was a fairytale and some droplets of optimism. Not a very comforting thought, since Cinder was obviously powerful enough to cow both Roman and Neo.

His colleagues were just one step away from being a professional pair, despite the age difference between the two. Neo was definitely close to his age. Practically childhood friends, even.

Well, according to Roman.

Neo probably saw it a little differently.

Ruby sighed, patting his shoulder. "You're not a burden."

"Maybe," Nex said, chuckling. But maybe he was. "Or at least, I'm trying not to be."

Yep. Nexus Shade was never a burden. Living alone for ten years transformed him into a multi-tool that could do everything himself—from sewing his own clothes, to building his own gizmos, and down to preparing his own coffee.

Never relying on others.

Never could.

"Weiss cares. Blake cares," Ruby said, smiling. "I care. You can count on us, team leader."

Fuck.

If only they knew who their team leader really was.

Nex shrugged, forcing a smile of his own. "Well, thanks. And I guess we're done here."

"We're already done?" Ruby said, glancing at the stack of books. "Why are you studying glowy eyes, anyway?"

Double fuck.

If only they knew where he really went, when he said he was off to buy some dust. Dust, that in hindsight, he did not have. Hrunting and Vigilance was effectively crippled since its cartridges were empty. Even his trench coat was just a fancy dud without it. He really had to find a way to procure some. Preferably in a more than legal manner.

Maybe he could ask Weiss?

Nope.

Her stockpile was close to running out. She definitely needed it more than him.

"It's just a passing interest," Nex said. His stomach committed first-degree murder, acid gnawing at his chest. It was just another one of his pretty little lies. Just another notch on his broken coffin. "I thought I already outgrew fairy tales. But it comes back, you know?"

Ruby grinned. "I know, right? You don't really outgrow your childhood."

Great. Apparently, she bought the half-assed excuse.

Now if only-

"Words to live by, Ruby Rose," a familiar voice said, a mug of steaming cocoa sitting down beside the stack of books. "The lives we lived are oft mirrored in ourselves. Even now as adults."

"They are?" Ruby said, flushing. "Oh! Good afternoon, headmaster."

Nex rolled his eyes. Words of wisdom right there. "Oz. You wanted to talk?"

"Indeed, Nexus Shade," Ozpin said, snatching one of the books on the table. The Maiden and the Minstrel Knight—embossed in gold on its faded, silvery sleeve. He flipped through the first page. Then the second. And the third, a brittle smile on his lips. "Interesting reading."

Interesting indeed.

Now if only Ozpin did not sound flatter than usual, then it would just have been another one-off line.

But still, what was it about that particular fairy-tale?

The Maiden and the Minstrel Knight.

It was another tale about another Maiden, one who was a knight in service to some king or another. She served to the death, fighting her king's war. Definitely a tragic one. The ending, even more so. Pointless. The entire thing was, down to the reasons behind it. To think a war could start just because a guy fell in love with the wrong girl, or even because a girl fell in love with the wrong guy.

Stupid plot right there.

Ozpin closed the book, placing it down. He took another one—The Silver-eyed Warrior and the Maiden. "Miss Rose, I hope you understand that fairy tales are exactly just that. Fairy tales."

Yep. Just fairy tales. When glowy eyes and silver eyes existed?

Well, maybe there was a sliver of truth to it all.

Tales had to come from somewhere, right?

Or maybe even someone.

"Yep. It'd be awesome though," Ruby said, smiling as the headmaster returned the red-sleeved book. "If I really had the eyes of a hero."

Ozpin lifted the mug of cocoa to his lips, his throat bobbing. He put it down. "Heroes aren't born, Miss Rose. They are forged through the fire and the flames, as Mr Shade here can attest."

Nex snorted. Hero? He was the furthest thing from the word ever since it was conceived. Or ever since he was conceived.

"Something amusing, Mr Shade?" Ozpin said, placing his mug on the table.

Well, everything was. But the headmaster did not need to know that.

"Nope," Nex said, pushing himself to stand. Well, he was already done anyway. "Should we go somewhere else?"

Ozpin nodded, glancing at the stack of books. "I'll have the staff replace the material. And Miss Rose?"

"Yes?" Ruby said, smiling at the headmaster.

"Do keep in mind what I just told you," Ozpin said. "Every hero pays the price. Even in fairy tales."

Nothing but the truth. Every hero paid the price, in fairy tales and especially in the real world. There was no place for knights or wizards in their world.

Nexus Shade was most definitely not a hero.

He was just an ordinary guy. Well, maybe a team leader. But that was it.

Ruby frowned, leafing through the pages of another book. "Alright, headmaster."

With that, Ozpin snatched the steaming mug. The headmaster took brisk strides towards the exit, motioning for him to follow.

"We're still working on it, right?" Ruby said. "After you're done."

She probably meant her semblance.

Well, they were making some progress with it. Particularly the part where she moved like a slug—a slug storm-struck by rose petals, but a slug nonetheless. She only needed to find some way to get rid of the roses part, then their teammates could probably stop complaining about the mess.

Every. Fucking. Time.

Nex shrugged, even as the headmaster's steps slowed. Probably listening in. "Yeah, sure. After we do my shield?"

Ruby grinned, holding up her thumb. "Yep. It's going to be so awesome."

Ozpin led him out of the door, the uninjured, we're attending class students giving them a wide berth.

They went past Oobleck's lecture hall and Port's classroom. Weiss would be in the former, probably taking rabid notes of the lecture, while Yang and Jaune ribbed her about some stuff or another. Most likely their relationship.

Blake would be in Port's class, probably reading while the man embezzled another tale about his youth.

What was it about the man and blatant lies anyway?

He could definitely lie better than Professor Poop.

Not that it was something to be particularly proud of.

A brief, ten-minute stroll towards the Tower of Beacon, or well, it's beacon, along with a quick elevator ride, led them up the headmaster's office.

It was a stark contrast against Ironwood's, or even Jacques'.

Gears—clockwork, really, spun from floor to ceiling, covering the walls of the headmaster's office. Bronze, silver, and gold mingled with green, the ticks poking his extra pair of ears. The incessant sound was definitely there, even as he took tentative steps on the floor.

Hell, even the floor was made of gears—which was probably why they were stepping on glass instead.

Did Ozpin really have a fetish for gears?

The thing was even on the headmaster's cane—embossed in gold like his own emblem. No doubt the cane retracted into a more compact form. But still, it looked old, judging from the vines on the hilt down to the chips on the pommel. It was old enough that even Pareidolia lacked the necessary data to synthesize its derived forms-

Nex flinched, static buzzing through his head. Just like that one time with Cinder—lines upon lines of meaningless and chaotic data.

"Is everything alright, Mr Shade?" Ozpin said, taking the lone chair behind the desk. The mug was already on his side. "Your injuries were quite severe."

Pareidolia was already on it, racing through the archive called his brain. And it was cackling even more.

Nex shrugged, plopping down on the hard, wooden chair. "I'm fine, I'm just—"

A cough wracked his chest, stabbing needles into his throat. Shit. He really had to stop hanging around cigars and inhaling second-hand smoke. They were definitely bad for his well-being.

"A tad out of breath?" Ozpin said, frowning. He placed the cane on the black wood. The same wood as a certain general's. Huh. "There's no shame in it, despite what you may believe."

"And what exactly do I believe?" Nex said, quirking an eyebrow.

Ozpin took a sip of his cocoa—the steam warm and unexpectedly sugar, coupled with some sort of liquorice. "Never before have I seen a huntsman so eager."

Eager?

Great. Now he could add Ozpin to the list. Along with Blake and that one teacher in Atlas Primary.

Professor Tree, right?

"While your peers were asleep, you were off traipsing through the Emerald Forest," Ozpin said, his fingers steepled—just under his chest. He rested his joined hands on the table. "You secured your objective before it was even announced. You went well and beyond what was expected of you."

Nex shrugged, managing a smile. "Nope. Just completing my mission."

Like any other huntsman would have done.

Ozpin nodded. "Indeed. And then you chose Weiss Schnee to be your partner. Why?"

Why, indeed.

"She's my best friend," Nex said, laying his hand on the cool armrest. "And well, now my girlfriend."

Surely, those were good enough reasons.

Right?

"Truly?" Ozpin said, smiling—a smile that could have dissolved in water. His eyes were fixed on his cane. "I'd congratulate you, Mr Shade. But such unions seldom last."

Nex frowned, leaning into the soft backrest. "How'd you know?"

"Call it an old fool's truth," Ozpin said, pulling out something from under the desk. "One that, unfortunately, none of my friends ever believe." He placed the chessboard on the wood—a set chiselled from marble, the pieces black and white. "Care for a game, Mr Shade?"

"The truth is relative," Nex said, tapping the edge of the table. His heel rode against the leg of his chair. "And I don't play chess."

Ozpin smiled, flipping open the board. "Please. Humour me for a while. Perhaps you'll find chess to be suitable for your talents."

The headmaster arranged the pieces on the board—the white on the headmaster's, the black on his.

"My talents?" Nex said, quirking an eyebrow.

There really were no such things.

"The Atlesian mechs, Mr Shade," Ozpin said, adjusting his glasses. "And one Cardin Winchester."

Well, maybe Ironwood failed to keep it a secret—which could explain why his name was on the roster.

Or did the good general really tell Ozpin?

But still, the second one was definitely more important.

Did Cardin yap?

If the idiot did, then maybe he could as well.

Jacques was still on speed-dial, after all.

Nex shrugged. "What about Cardin?"

"Mr Winchester turned in his application of leave," Ozpin said. "Citing private circumstances. Perhaps you know of them?"

Ozpin definitely knew, even if he implied otherwise. It was clever of him, admittedly. Perhaps the headmaster had other sources—sources that could have been the idiot's two cronies, or maybe even their redheaded team leader. But still, there was one thing he could do. One thing the headmaster probably did not expect.

"I did what I had to do to protect my friends," Nex said. Nothing but the truth. "I couldn't allow such a risk to remain in Beacon."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. Definitely at his own words. "Indeed? Stripping a young huntsman his due, just for a jar of sap?"

That confirmed it. The idiot's cronies did yap on him. On them, even.

"A jar of sap could eventually turn into a grenade," Nex said, leaning back into his chair. "And it was in Grimm territory. You don't do stupid shit like that. Shit that could cost people their lives."

Wherever Winchester lived, it was most definitely not on Remnant. Pursuing a petty grudge, when rousing a forest full of Grimm could have gotten all of them killed. It was the height of idiocy—especially for someone who claimed to be a huntsman-in-training. Someone who should have understood.

Ozpin frowned, tapping the edge of the board. "While your vocabulary reminds me of someone I know, your words bear an unfortunate grain of truth."

The headmaster nudged a piece. A pawn, probably.

Two tiles.

Pareidolia engaged, humming at the back of his skull, crystallizing every single possible outcome, like vines twisting through a forest.

"Remnant isn't a fairy tale, Mr Shade, no matter what Miss Rose believes," Ozpin said. Right. No need to tell him. "You know how the pieces move?"

Nex shook his head. "Nope. But I don't think this game is about how the pieces move, anyway."

That would be too obvious.

Right?

Nex nudged a pawn, copying the headmaster's move, so the two pieces stared each other down at the middle.

"Truly?" Ozpin said. "Then what is the game all about?"

"It isn't about how the pieces move," Nex said, smiling. "It's about how the players keep moving. No matter what happens on the board."

Ozpin hummed, lifting a knight. "What happens if they don't move, then?"

Nex shrugged. "They stop moving. Or well, they die. Two ways, really."

Keep moving forward. Or sometimes, backwards or to the sides. His mother would have agreed.

"Just like the White Fang agents you dispatched?" Ozpin said. "For someone who seems keen on preserving life, you are awfully blase with death."

"Death wouldn't really exist without life, would it?" Nex said. They were two sides of the same coin. "The guy who fails to understand that isn't really alive."

After all, why live when you could not die?

Why survive when, well, there was nothing to actually survive?

Ozpin stilled, glancing at his cane. "Perhaps. Shall we resume, Mr Shade?"

And so they did.

Pieces blurred, Pareidolia hanging over his shoulders like a tour guide. With the constant nudging, even.

"Did you know why Mr Winchester harboured such prejudices?" Ozpin said, moving his bishop—the only one of its kind left. It was a fierce fight, but its other half died in the end. "Perhaps you'll find his story quite interesting."

Why did it even matter?

"I don't," Nex said, licking his dry lips. "But it doesn't really excuse his actions, does it?"

Ozpin shook his head. "No. There is no excuse for intentionally and knowingly injuring one of your peers. Not without some higher purpose."

Well. They seemed to be of one mind on that front. As well as the higher purpose part, even.

"Mr Winchester's ancestry could be traced back into the Great War," Ozpin said, "and after that, to the Faunus Rights Revolution. Perhaps you can hazard a guess?"

"Winchester," Nex said, moving a rook. Check. But still, the surname seemed familiar. "Nope. Sorry."

Ozpin frowned, covering his king with his bishop. "General Lagune wasn't always a Lagune. He married into the Winchesters, a long line of human warriors, assuming their name and the burden that comes with it."

"So what?" Nex said, rolling his eyes. "Cardin's mad I insulted his grandpa?"

Ozpin nodded, taking a sip from his mug. "That, and General Lagune's loss exacerbated his discriminatory tendencies, passing it down to his children and their children after."

Ozpin's reasoning made sense. Time did not heal everything. Certainly not when the knives were still there—on both sides, even.

"The Winchesters couldn't move on from the past," Nex said, moving a knight. Check. "So they're going to keep hating faunus forever?"

Ozpin stared at the board, his hand stiff over his king. "You and Mr Winchester aren't so different, Mr Shade."

Nex quirked an eyebrow. "Aside from the extra pair of ears, you mean?"

Pareidolia hummed, practically grinning. And the headmaster probably noticed it as well.

"Mr Winchester hates the faunus," Ozpin said, eyes boring into his. "While you hate your father."

Nex flinched, his jaw clenching. "And how would you know?"

Not this again. From Yang, Ruby, and now to fucking Ozpin himself.

Were they all in on a conspiracy or something?

"Have you seen a mirror lately, Mr Shade?" Ozpin said, sipping on his coffee. "You cannot escape the past."

Nex shuddered, drawing a deep breath. "I don't have a father. All I had was a mother."

"Amariss Shade. An old friend," Ozpin said, fingering the crown of his king. He sighed and looked away. "A tale for another time, unfortunately, as I believe we're done here."

The white king fell, bowing before the black queen.

"What?" Nex said, killing a cough before it could escape. The headmaster could have still won. "You're just giving up?"

Ozpin smiled and took a long sip from his mug—like a man stranded in a desert. "There's no point in fighting a losing battle, Mr Shade. I'm sure we're of one mind on that ideal."

The gears continued to tick, even as the headmaster dismissed him and bade him goodbye. Time slipping through the cracks right there. Like distance and sand through the hourglass.

Gone forever.