Death and Rebirth

Reincarnation and Death

This was what was known, this was what was taught to him by Orion when the voice had first made itself known to him once he turned sixteen. They live, they die, and then live again, regretfully recruiting another innocent person into their war.

It wasn't fair, it was a cruel punishment on both sides and yet time after time it happened regardless.

Ozpin was no different than the rest of his— of Ozma's past lives. He had a simple life; he had a mother, a father, three younger brothers and a small farm house in the quiet fields of Mistral. it wasn't grand or luxurious but it was his and he cherished it.

Until one morning when he awoke to the voice of a man named Orion in his head. Orion had explained the situation— well as best he could to a panicked sixteen year old.

The relics, Salem, the Gods, the day of possible judgment.

It all had been so much to take in, there was so much information he hadn't known what to do with information that made him feel vertigo at one point and yet once he calmed down and processed things, Ozpin found that it didn't sound completely crazy to him. He had always been fascinated by stories like those. The fairy tales he'd heard as a child had always felt real to him, as if there had been a kind of believability to them somewhere, at some point in time.

Any normal person wouldn't believe a word being spoken. But Ozpin had always been one to break the reality of what is considered a normal response to a situation once he's had the time to process it, believed every word the Orion said. Not that he wasn't perplexed by it all. To say he wasn't terrified at the prospect of fighting in a war against the immortal ex-wife of the Legendary Hero Ozma, a war he had no knowledge of until recently.

It had all been so much to take in in such a short period of time that Orion had to instill confidence in Ozpin, because there was no way he could do anything right? He was just a farmhand from Mistral, there was nothing special about him, so why was he chosen for something so important in the first place?

But, eventually, he accepted his fate and did his best to bring peace to Remnant, to be there for others as often as he could, to keep them calm while he, Orion, and the rest of his inner circle fought the war behind drawn curtains. He was determined to change things, determined to end all the pain and suffering Salem has caused, he was going to be the last incarnation, he had to be because no other soul should have to go through this.

But then the day came, the day Orion had spent years preparing for: Beacon's fall. His colleagues fought the Grimm that were now invading, and some of his students had joined as well, naturally because they wanted to help.

Ozpin had prayed for their safety, as he fought the memories of losing so many of his children that were and weren't his.

Then there was nothing.

Nothing but darkness. He felt gentle pull, like he was being guided by the wrist by an unseen force and he knew immediately what this was as a string, a thread formed.

He was dying, he knew it to be true and even though he prepared himself, knew that one day his end would likely happen, he still wasn't ready. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to leave his students behind, he didn't want to give up his body and subject another innocent soul into carrying on where he had failed.

Because while his death would be merely a minor inconvenience the burden placed upon whomever his soul joined would be indescribable. And he didn't want that. He didn't want to watch whomever he incarnated into struggle with the pain and exhaustion this job entailed, like Orion had watched him.

He wanted to live to save them from that pain. The pull continued still, guiding him towards the next descendant of Ozma, just like he had been.

But he refused

Please I implore

A chance

Just another chance

His mind snapped back like an elastic band and the first sensation he had was agony. His body from his face all the down to the tips of his toes felt burned. The agony consumed him like a never ending ocean of waves upon waves. His body twitched involuntarily, and the only thing out of his mouth was choked gasp.

Everything exploded in his head, blinding him with white static. He became dizzy with vertigo, for a moment. For a moment all he knew, could comprehend was pain. It felt like white hot iron dipped in the most searing hot lava had been brought, merged to his skin.

Slowly, little by little, his mind was able to break through the fog of agony he was experiencing, and through painstakingly great lengths he was able to open his eyes and see the now collapsing ceiling of his school above him. His brain had to take a moment, to catch up to what exactly he was seeing, turning his head to the left he saw the remains of the life support containers, the very ones James had insisted would work in stabling Amber while they—

His eyes focused on them, the one of the left…

His heart ceased

Amber

Tears formed in his eyes, his heart ached.

He remembered now.

He'd fought Cinder, fought her in order to give Mr. Arc and Miss Nikos a chance to flee, a chance to live.

And he lost, she was far stronger than him and despite giving it his all, he'd still failed. He failed Amber, just like his— Ozma's daughters. And he had died, about to become a voice to some poor soul like Orion had been for him, and yet… somehow, he wasn't dead.

"O-Orion?"

Gods, was that his voice?

"Orion?"

Nothing

Orion's voice was no longer there. He could no longer hear him, no longer was he or would be able to ask advice or inquire about a path he had not considered yet to Orion ever again. He was gone. Oz blinked away the stinging in his eyes, he closed them trying to come to terms with that. No longer having Orion by his side, it was a change he had not been ready for.

Cinder had indeed killed him, burned him until he—

A loud inhuman screech off in the distance interrupted his thoughts.

His heart pounded in his ears as he realized that Grimm were still invading Beacon, still reducing his school to rubble, and by the sounds of it, even more of them were on their way. He couldn't stay any longer. His gaze was drawn away from the machine and down to his cane, which was lying a short distance away from him. Oz bit his lower lip to keep from crying out as he reached for it and held it tightly in his hand, his anchor, it stabilized him whenever he held it.

Standing had been a challenge, had been near impossible, and walking had been even more so. All he managed was a slow agonizing limp and even that proved as a challenge. Sweat had pooled along his brow and dripped down his forehead, sending jolts of fire along his burned skin, blackening his vision for a moment.

He needed to run, he could stay here no longer, he knew this, but where was he to go? Beacon had fallen, his companions were likely either dead or preoccupied with Grimm. His body shook and his knees buckled under him, his cane the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the floor once more.

Orion, He thought desperately to himself, calling out to the voice, Orion, I need you, please. I need your counsel.

But there was nothing, the voice that had been with him since he was sixteen years old was gone, there was nothing in his head, but silence and his own thoughts.

He was alone, and that was the worst bit, he was alone, and it ached deeply, to the very depth of his soul.

What was he to do?

Standing alone in the solitude with his thoughts, Oz gradually realized that something wasn't quite right

Looking down at his body, he noticed patches of his suit that had been singed off, as well as second and third degree burns along his skin. His body was in shambles, but that wasn't where this sensation came from. This seemed more than just physically, as if there was something wrong with his soul as though a part of him was missing. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the pommel of his cane, and for a moment all he could do was be engulfed in deafening silence.

He was alone

He was injured, could barely walk

He was alone

What am I supposed to so?

He jolted when he felt that gentle pull broke before take a hold of his mind and guide him yet again, Ozpin should be frightened, should be questioning what was happening but instead he found the pressure strangely comforting, like a parent with a child, like his mother had been for him, always there, helping him focus, to think passed the pain and get moving, to where he did not know.

Gritting his teeth, he tried not to focus on the severity of his wounds or the odor of dust and scorched flesh as he limped his way passed the machine, he took care not to glance at Amber, he couldn't— couldn't face her. Couldn't stand seeing her corpse, knowing how he failed her. Instead, he casted his eyes downward, eyes focusing onto the goal ahead of him, towards the hidden entrance Orion had instructed him to build into Beacon's construction in case he ever needed to make a fast escape he had to leave, there was nothing else in his mind but simply getting out of here and somewhere safe.

His encounter with Cinder had almost destroyed the Wall, leaving it in disarray. Pushing away the shattered stone, Ozpin felt the gentle caress of a breeze blow against him. They stung against the burns on his cheeks but he welcomed it all the same.

Darkness enveloped the tunnel, he felt like if he stepped within that darkness he'd be swallowed up by it. His knees shook from exertion and fear but he pressed onward regardless and moved, moved at such an achingly slow rate that gritted his teeth in frustration, he needed to move faster but this was all he do could, he barely had any strength to hold himself upright, his cane was carrying the brunt of his weight.

He spent the next few hours in darkness, silently cursing Orion, despite the fact that the voice was no longer there, cursing the voice for encouraging him to build this tunnel, how long it was, how dark it was, making it run all the way to Mistral.

"You'll thank me later, Phadrig."

Orion had said

"You'd be surprised how many of us died due to not having a proper escape route."

Oz pressed his forehead against the pommel, "Oh Orion I could really use your guidance right now." He gripped Long Memory tighter.

Stability.

Comfort

"You are not alone"

The God of Light's words ran in his ears

It sure felt like he was.

Eventually, he made it to the end, having to use his cane as a battering ram to attempt to open the wooden door over his head. Rain began to fall on his skin as soon as the doors opened; the icy droplets were equal parts comforting to his second-degree burns as they were agonizing to his third's.

His vision faded for a moment, but he forced himself through it. He was running on fumes and his arms trembled beneath his weight as he struggled to get himself out of the hole, but still he pushed forward.

Ozpin instantly collapsed as he rolled the rest of the way out.

His aura had long since shattered as had his remaining strength, he couldn't continue on any longer, even the smallest movement of a single twitch of his finger caused him excruciating anguish; all he could do was lie there looking up into the sky above him. His limbs vibrated, still scorching hot, still in agony, and especially after pushing himself so hard, all he wanted nothing more to do then to rest, to close his eyes and sleep forever but that guiding presence, grasped at his wrist once again and pulled him in one single direction, but he was far too exhausted in every way to listen to it any longer, he just wanted to sleep, to forget how horrendously he failed his school and his students, and the guilt that came with it.

His eyes welled up with tears, and his heart bled deep within his chest. Oz hoped his students could forgive him. He hoped Amber, Glynda and the rest of his circle could forgive him for not being good enough to prevent this from happening.

His vision blurred, as he could do nothing but stare at the sky above him, the last thing he saw were pair hazel eyes.

Oscar had always been an early riser; even as a child, he remembered getting up long before his parents; his Aunt would tell him embarrassing stories about how many times he stood in his crib bouncing up and down waiting for them to come up.

Rising early had been second nature to him as he got older, the regular life of a farmhand.

But today was... different.

His dreams had already felt different even before he gained consciousness.

Oscar was overcome by this sense of anguish, pain that wasn't his. Someone else was in pain, someone else was in suffering, and he wanted to help even as a child he was never one to turn a blind eye when someone needed help, so he reached out.

Out

Reached out with his very soul...

And he woke up with tears in his eyes early that morning that something was wrong. He was struck with this overwhelming sensation of fear, it engulfed his entire body so severely that he couldn't explain the way it made him feel; the air seemed thicker around him, like he was lost in a fog, no matter where he went around the farm the feeling stayed with him long after he began he chores, working in the fields, the surroundings simply seemed wrong, as if something was about to or had already happened.

It was all making him uncomfortable, and his nerves seemed to only worsen as the sun rose over the mountain peaks.

He tried to divert his attention, to focus on his responsibilities that he was tasked with, the best thing about living with his Aunt was that he never felt lonely since she always made sure they had enough work to keep them both busy. He placed the wheat into his cart and parked it outside the front porch. "I'm heading to the market, Auntie Em!"

His aunt was currently washing dishes, but she turned to him, smiling. "You know the rules, be—"

"—Careful going on the roads and be back before it gets dark. I got it." Auntie Em smiled proudly at him before tossing him an apple for the road. He caught it, gave her a cheerful grin, and walked out the door.

Oscar set off down the dirt road towards the marketplace, which was approximately a mile or two away from their property. It wasn't a lengthy walk, nor was it difficult, as he expected most people to find it. He found walking across the countryside to be quite therapeutic. He relished the sound of birds in the distance as a light breeze swept through his hair and across his face,

Being out in nature was one of his favorite pastimes.

That's why Oscar couldn't help but make a dissatisfied noise from deep inside his throat when not even the tranquility of nature was enough to dispel the uncomfortable atmosphere that seemed to hang in the air.

A humming off to his right ear abruptly brought him to a halt.

It started out low, barely a whisper, almost like a whisper, a buzz in his ear, but the longer he remained there, the louder it became; his right hand twitched, and his body turned to the right almost on it own, where the grass sat undisturbed by man, swaying back and forth like they were dancing. At that moment, Oscar had a strong urge to go in that direction, as if something was nudging him forward, and it was strange how willingly he went. He all but dropped the wagon from his hands and stepped over the log that had been used to cut off the road and the grassy area.

It felt as if he was being led someplace by a calm and soothing presence gently guiding him along, and the sensation, this presence, was almost familiar. There was care there, Oscar could tell. Even if he didn't understand why.

But as gentle as this presence was, it felt different, this feeling was also insistent, almost as if he didn't go that way, something bad would happen. Oscar brushed away sweat from the brow that had accumulated there, he placed a hand against the trunk of a tree for support. The muddy floor was covered with enormous veins of roots. Oscar gazed up in astonishment at the massive trees that shielded him from the sun's beams. The space stretched deep into a pleasant darkness.

A soothing melody bursts from a nearby tree where a bird has made its home, his eyes drifting downward, and he froze in horror to discover a person laying down in the midst of the glade.

This is an interesting thing; I haven't posted a story let alone a Rwby story on here in quite some time. Don't ask me why I decided to post it on here after i've done so for A03, I have absolutely no idea. XD

So this is something that I have slowly, VERY painstakingly slowly been chipping away at. I always wanted to write an Ozpin Lives AU starting and during the fight between Oz and Cinder in Volume 3 but I never could find the words or the motivation to write it. But the dream I had months ago definitely kick started that desire and I finally found the words to write this out.

I know this isn't one of my better stories, they'd been rather lack luster lately, but I hope the ones that do read and leave feedback enjoy it as much as I did writing for it.

Anywoo, a penny for your thoughts? I don't expect anyone to read this or review it but I hope you all enjoy this random story, feedback is always welcomed and appreciated, and I will see you all soon.