Chapter Six

Ozpin worried the entire walk home. He remembered when His Majesty had told him what he was, and that the king himself would be his master - the king taking in a nobody orphan! For training! - and he understood intimately well how overwhelming the entire experience was. Oscar was numb, having a vision strike him so suddenly, and now to process, understand, what it all meant.

Perhaps he had offered the apprenticeship too soon. Anyone would need time to come to terms with it: the reality of magic, readings, the weight of the responsibility. And in this day and age! A war going on, the degradation of the profession, accusations and suspicion. Ozpin had precious little to offer his son for a future but barely scraping by, enduring bullies and disrespect. Oh, ten, twenty years ago when he was at university, before it was bombed as the region continued to destabilize, when soothsaying was a field of study, respected, valued, but now…

Calavera was at the end of the hall as always, she called out her greeting and frowned almost immediately as her blind gaze sensed the mood.

"Did something happen?"

"In a way," Ozpin said softly. "Could we talk about it later? I need to get Oscar settled."

She nodded as the front opened again. "Qrow!" she shouted. "Get over here and help the professor take care of young Oscar."

Ozpin turned. "No, that's hardly-"

"I got you, Maria!" Branwen said, and the fourth floor resident looked better than Ozpin had ever seen: no ruddy cheeks or blurry eyes, no slouch, no bottle. He darted down the hall on nimble feet and joined Ozpin in the stairwell. "Don't worry," the sober man said to Calavera, "I get paid next week, your rent will be on time for the first time in… forever!"

"Ha! I'll believe it when I see it."

Ozpin stared, Oscar at his hip.

"Kid alright?" Mr. Branwen asked.

"Yes," Ozpin said, a little flustered. "He's just had some news and… well, it's a lot to take in."

Branwen nodded. "Am I helping the kid up or am I helping you up?"

"Neither," Ozpin said, frowning, "You really don't have to-"

"Yeah I do, Oz," Branwen said with a cheeky smile. "I owe you a lot, and I want to repay you. Tell you what, I'll go up to the greenhouse and water the plants, that'll handle the pipsqueak's work and I get to feed the crows as a bonus. I'll knock after that and see if you need anything else after." He reached into his workman's gi and pulled out a flask, taking a swig. Not completely sober, then.

Up the stairs the neighbor went, quick and athletic, and Ozpin worked his way up the stairs like a tortoise to his hare, Oscar mutely keeping pace.

The apartment was cool but not cold, Ozpin getting the stove going as Oscar sat in one of the leather chairs, still staring off at his new future. Ozpin lit a lamp in the dying light, debating on getting something to eat, but he knew his son enough to know he wouldn't have much appetite, and in all honesty he didn't either.

He couldn't train Oscar the same way he had trained his other apprentices. Even those with the true gift: Fria, Vernal, Amber, they did not have the same pool of magic that he did. He dreaded writing them, telling them he had found the greatest sayer of a generation: his own son. Worse, he wasn't sure if he could train Oscar, not the way the king of Vale had trained him. Ozpin was an academic, he loved learning the craft, absorbed information so quickly. Oscar was from a generations long agricultural family, the boy loved to read but the gaps in his learning when he first came were substantial, and learning was such an effort for Oscar. Would he take to the training with the same zeal as Ozpin?

No, more still: was it even fair that Ozpin offered the apprenticeship? He had spent his life teaching before the fever, and the thought of having a student again, an apprentice… but now he was breaking even every month, pulling from his small nest egg from his university days. He had left the city, left the wealthy clients and rich donors, he could not promise Oscar a solid future as he was, never mind with the war and the perception of soothsayers in general.

He shook his head. He should not have offered himself so quickly. Oscar needed to know there were other options, other teachers, other choices. Fria was still in Atlas, last he heard, but he hadn't written in over a year. No, don't overthink this, you always overthink this. Ozpin hummed, realizing he was staring off into nothing, and shook his head.

He limped over to sit across from Oscar, curled up in his chair with his knees drawn up. He looked so small now, younger than his years, and his eyes glanced up and locked onto Ozpin, so very lost.

"I'm sorry," he found himself saying. "I should have given you time to understand it all." He shifted his weight. "I'm not the only sayer in Haven, or in all of Remnant. Vernal, I think, is here in Haven. She was gruff and closed off as a student but she was a gifted sayer. Lady Fria came to me much later in her life, but she's built a solid reputation for herself in Atlas and has trained many sayers herself. If you don't want a former student of mine there's-"

"Wait," Oscar said, lifting his head slightly. "Are you… are you sending me away?"

"You need the best teachers," Ozpin said, gritting his teeth. "I would love to be the one to teach you, but you're my son, too. If you're not comfortable with-"

"No!" Oscar said, intense and almost shouting. "No," he repeated, flushed after hearing himself. "No, I want you to train me. I like working in the office and looking at the patterns. I - will I be able to read those patterns?"

"Yes," Ozpin said, nodding.

"And… that scary thing, you called it a vision. It… it doesn't happen that way?"

"No," Ozpin replied. "That's the result of untrained potential. Once you learn how to use a reader, how to activate your own magic, readings will be under control." He paused, took a breath. "Not every reading is pleasant, though."

Oscar shook his head. "I know that," he answered, looking down. "It's… it's a lot."

"It is," Ozpin agreed. "I was hasty this afternoon, and again I apologize. You don't have to make any major decisions now. You can take a few days and-"

"No," Oscar said, staring at his knees. "I mean, yeah, I understand. But…" He yawned. "I just… I like it when you teach me, and I like the patterns, and the paperwork isn't so bad and… I see how hard you work but I see how much you try to help and…" Oscar started to list, drifting to the side and curling up on the chair. "I want you to…" he murmured, drifting off to sleep.

Ozpin wondered how Oscar would finish that last sentence, too afraid to hope it would end the way he wanted. Ozpin pursed his lips, uncertain what to do next. He couldn't lift Oscar to bed, and was loath to wake the boy after his first use of magic. Without a reader it was so draining, his son would be dead to the world for several hours after this. He started to move to the back and grab a blanket when he heard a knock on the door.

Mr. Branwen was there, still in his workman clothes, eyes active and alert. "Finished watering," he said, glancing in and seeing Oscar asleep. "You need anything else?"

… Ozpin was not so proud he would ignore opportunity when it presented itself. "I've just gotten him asleep," he said softly. "But I can't carry him to bed."

Branwen caught on quickly. "Got it," he said, voice equally soft. He stepped in lightly, Ozpin following and watching as his neighbor gently worked around Oscar and lifted him up. Oh, he was so small… but Branwen was strong and moved with silent feet to the back where the bed was. "You share?" he asked.

Ozpin nodded.

"Which side is his?"

"Away from the window."

Branwen nodded and shifted, freeing one arm impressively to pull down the top sheet and lay Oscar down, pulling the light blanket over him. Ozpin moved in to finish turning down the bed, running his hand through Oscar's dark mop of hair, and his son curling into the gesture.

"Looks like my nieces when they were kids," Branwen said, his voice gentle.

They returned to the front of the apartment, Branwen looking around and soaking in the details.

"Gotta admit, professor, you did a lot with this hole in the wall."

"Thank you," Ozpin said. "May I offer you something? I had just put tea on…"

Branwen pulled out his flask. "Got my own nourishment," he said with a raucous smile, "but tea would be a nice change of pace."

In ten minutes the tea was steeping in the respective cups, Mr. Branwen now in Oscar's chair, one ankle balanced on the opposite knee. He glanced over his shoulder to the back, at Oscar behind the privacy screen. "Light as Ruby," he said as the tea was set down. "Small as her, too. Kids grow up so fast…"

"Thank you kindly for your assistance," Ozpin said softly, sitting down himself. "I admit being hard pressed to resolve how to get him to bed."

"I bet. How'd you manage when he was knee high?"

"I wouldn't have had the fever then," Ozpin replied. "Though he's adopted, so who can say?"

Mr. Branwen turned to face Ozpin, red eyes wide in the lamplight. "No Mrs?" he asked.

"No," Ozpin said, sipping his own tea. "Relationships were never a high priority for me. What about you? You admit to having nieces?"

"Yeah, Tai's kids. I go over and see them every year. Well, up until the war started. They didn't give travel passes to a drunkard, and rumor's out they may shut the border soon." He snorted. "As if that's gonna keep the war from coming here."

"The war is already here," Ozpin said, looking down at his tea. "The effects spread across to everyone, no one is absent from feeling its toll."

"I'll drink to that," Branwen said, lifting his teacup. "Damn you make good tea."

"You should see me make hot chocolate," he said with a smile. "Though I haven't had it in three years with the requisitions."

Mr. Branwen snorted. "Like soldiers need chocolate," he muttered, face going dark. Ozpin didn't need his magic to sense that his neighbor was about to think about the other man, Clover, and have his thoughts go very dark indeed. He jumped for distraction.

"What about you?" he asked. "Is there a Mrs. in your life?"

Branwen choked on his tea and gave a dark cough. "Oh, you don't want to know my track record with relationships," he said after getting his breath back.

"You've implied in prior conversations that you have… bad luck."

Branwen stared, blinking twice, before leaning back and staring at the lamp. "I probably did," he muttered. "Sorry, by the way, that you keep seeing me drunk off my ass."

"Despair manifests differently in all of us," Ozpin said magnanimously, eyes drifting to his sleeping son. "The crux of it is choosing to face it and conquer it, one day at a time, one step at a time." He tapped his cane to his leg, and Branwen's eyes drifted down to it, but said nothing.

The silence was comforting, and Ozpin rather felt like he was with a friend, but he hardly knew Mr. Branwen well enough to call him that. He started to relax, muscle by muscle, and as he centered himself he reflected that whatever Oscar's decision, Ozpin would support him in any way he could. That was the choice he could make, and the certainty of that brought him comfort.

"Well." Ozpin turned and saw Branwen gulping down his tea. "Thanks for the tea." He got up, Ozpin rushing to do the same.

"Thank you again for your help, Mr. Branwen."

His neighbor smiled, not quite laughing. "I'm nobody's Mr, Oz," he said, stepping to the apartment door. "Just call me Qrow."

"Of course. Have a good evening."

"You, too. Tell your kid he needs to start offering seeds to the crows when he comes up, it'll stop them from trying to peck at him."

"I will, Mr. B-Qrow."

"There you go, Oz. Wasn't that hard, was it?"

Ozpin went to bed soon after, drained himself from the revelations and curled around his son, nuzzling into the boy's hair. "I promise," he whispered, "You'll have the best teacher."

Oscar stirred, shifting even closer to his guardian. "...that's you," he murmured, drifting off again.

Ozpin closed his eyes and his mouth, afraid his joy would wake his son.

Oscar probably should have known better. After passing out from the exhaustion and revelation of being a soothsayer, he had woken up thinking he'd get to the office after school and just join Ozpin in with his readings to start learning.

Really, he should have known it wouldn't be that simple. Since coming to the city, he'd needed to learn so much just to catch up to the city kids for apprenticeships.

Instead, when he'd woken up, expecting to get ready for school, Ozpin, who always valued those few moments to sleep in, got up with him, and dragged him out back by the well.

With a fresh bucket of clean water, Ozpin took him through finding and accessing his magic, then turning it off as quickly as possible.

"You can only have your magic open for seconds for now. You need to practice opening and closing it before we even start looking at patterns. Now that it's properly awake, every use of magic will exhaust you, and too much will give you a nosebleed. We call them apprentice nosebleeds, because that is when it most often occurs. It's better to learn how to control the flow before we start directing the flow."

Of course, since they were palm to palm, like when Ozpin had first recognized him as a soothsayer, his hands ended up burning after all the magic manipulation. Every time he accessed his magic, then shut it back down, his hands burned. He needed to soak them before they could try again.

They had been at it for a week.

"Hmm. Still too much effort. But you're not burning as much. That's much better."

Oscar sighed as he dipped his hands into the cool bucket again. He was at least starting to get the hang of it. The few times he left his magic open too long (and that wasn't something he'd ever thought he'd say…) Ozpin had tightened his grip on Oscar's wrist and done… something with his own magic when Oscar felt his blood humming even stronger.

"You need more hazelnuts in your diet."

"Sorry, what?"

"It will help you clot the magic to stop it from overtaking you."

"Ah, um… huh?"

"Something dark green and leafy would be better, but hazelnuts can travel with you."

Time at the office was still spent as it had been. Oscar did the invoices, the receipts, handled the lien, filed the records, but Ozpin never brought out the patterns. He firmly said Oscar wasn't ready for that yet, and that accidentally triggering the magic was the last thing they would want to do.

After a month of this, the weather was finally starting to go from unbearable to just hot, and Ozpin nodded to himself in the morning.

"I'd recommend practicing at school now, as you can. You're less likely to overheat, and you're less likely to need to immediately cool off your hands. Much like your fieldwork and gardening has made you strong, you need to make this part of yourself strong as well."

As the weather cooled, Oscar could see what Ozpin meant. He only ever opened his magic for the barest of seconds at a time. Any longer, and the humming in his blood started to build and Oscar could sort of recognize that a vision might be coming. He kept practicing how long he could keep his magic open before he could feel a vision build, and it was such a weird and exhilarating feeling. To feel… life.

They were closing for the day when Ozpin sat by Oscar and held out his hands. Oscar automatically reached out, palm to palm, fingertips to wrist, and went through the exercises that he'd been practicing.

"Very good," Ozpin said with quiet pride. "Excellent." He gave an amused smile. "I believe you've been practicing when you shouldn't have?"

Oscar squirmed. "Just trying to see how long I can have the magic open before I felt a vision."

Ozpin nodded. "That was actually the next thing we'd work on. I'd have preferred you wait for me to tell you what to focus on. I know all this magic is very new and exciting, but we do need to have proper control first. If you started lifting with your back instead of your legs, you'd do damage to your back. Not right away, not that you'd feel, but you would do damage. It's the same with magic. We need to make sure you've completely mastered something before we move on to the next. If you wish to experiment, please ask."

"Sorry."

Ozpin hugged him. "This time, no harm. But apprentices do need to listen to their masters. Now. Let's go home."

They finished locking files away and Ozpin wiped sweat from his brow before they headed downstairs.

The building was hot, but the outside was gorgeous. A crystal clear blue sky, a cool breeze, and just enough warmth to avoid being chilly. Back on the farm, Oscar would be busy from dawn to dusk harvesting, one field at a time, storing the crops properly, checking for pests and keeping the barns clear as they filled. He hadn't really ever realized that days like this were just… enjoyable. It was only ever like this in autumn, spring was too full of pollen and plantings and rain.

Walking home, it seemed everyone was enjoying the weather, sitting on stoops or front steps, feeling the breeze, and just enjoying the day.

Oscar was looking forward to opening up the greenhouse, and he wished Ozpin could join him up on the roof.

As they approached their building, Oscar blinked in surprise. "Is Nana Calavera on the stoop?"

"Indeed she is."

"But… she's always sitting by the stairs."

"She can enjoy the weather like this just as much as the rest of us."

Oscar dipped his head. He'd gotten so used to their landlady greeting them at the end of the hall by the stairs, he forgot that she could be elsewhere. It was strange to see her where he didn't expect.

Ozpin squeezed his shoulder. "Abuela is usually by the stairs for the summer because that's the coolest place for her to be. In the winter she'll be there to remind us to clean off the salt and slush from our shoes. For spring and autumn, she much prefers the stoop to greet us."

Oscar nodded. "Who's that with her?"

Ozpin squinted, adjusting his spectacles. "Ah, Dr. Pietro Polendina. I believe he moved in two weeks ago. He has the apartment across from Nana Calavera. It's good to see him out."

"Oh, the doctor you mentioned was moving in?"

"Yes, this is a good chance for you to meet him."

"Oz, you young scamp! I can hear you, come on up!" Nana Calavera said, waving to them.

Dr. Polendina turned in his chair, offering a wave. "Master Ozma, is that you? Why, it's been a few years!"

"About three years, I think," Ozpin replied with a smile. "Pietro, it's good to see you again."

"You're walking better than the last time I saw you," Dr. Polendia said, leaning forward and adjusting his small, round spectacles. "In fact, that's the best I've seen you walking. I'd have never thought you'd be so mobile after the fever."

Oscar blinked. "How bad was it?" he asked.

"Pietro, this is my son, Oscar Pine," Ozpin said, carefully climbing up the five steps and then sitting by Nana Calavera on the rail of the stoop.

Oscar shyly lifted a hand to wave, feeling vaguely nervous.

"Well, hello young man," Dr. Polentina said, leaning forward with a hand. Oscar shook it, checking to make sure his magic was closed.

"Um, hello," he said, glancing around nervously.

The old doctor chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Shy little thing, aren't you."

"Oh! Um…"

Ozpin chuckled, wrapped an arm around Oscar's shoulders. "We're working on that. Welcome back! It will be good to have a doctor in the building again."

Dr. Polendina's face winced for the briefest of moments. "Yes, I suppose you're right. But really, Ozpin, how are you so mobile? I thought you'd be like the others and in a chair for the rest of your life."

Oscar's eyes widened as he looked to his guardian.

Ozpin shook his head. "We both know it was only one leg affected by the fever. It's like a bar of iron for all that it will move, but my foot still has some flexibility, as long as I'm not on it too long. I needed to build up the remaining flexibility and the muscle strength of my good leg and my arms. With a flexible leg, I can still manage to walk." Ozpin gave a shrug, resting his hands on the pommel of his cane. "From there, making sure I walk regularly, like to my office. There are also a number of herbs I use in tea."

"Wait, there are?" Oscar turned. "You should have told me. I could have been growing them all season."

"Oh, are you the building gardener?" asked a new voice. Oscar turned, looking up the step to a young woman with long curly red hair, tied up with a pink bow that actually matched Dr. Polendina's bowtie. "If so I have some requests for next year's plantings."

"Ah, Penny," Dr. Polendina said, a soft smile. "Come, meet our neighbors. This is Master Ozpin Ozma, and his son, Oscar Pine."

"Salutations," Penny said, bowing. "It is always good to meet new neighbors."

"Um, hello…" Oscar bowed.

"Hello, Ms. Polendina," Ozpin bowed as he could while sitting. "I seem to recall you were training to be a doctor when I last saw you. You had just returned from university to start your practical?"

Penny frowned. "I am not a doctor now, but a nurse."

Ozpin blinked in clear surprise. "Ah, I must have remembered incorrectly."

"You have not, Master Ozma," she replied.

Ozpin held up a hand. "Please, Professor will suffice. Alas, my profession does not have much repute lately."

"Hmph. Just a bunch of flammery that will die down with the war, I'm sure," Nana Calavera said. "Too many generations of respect will set this generation right."

"Oh, I doubt it would be that simple," Ozpin said.

Oscar felt an undercurrent going on that he didn't understand. There was a sort of hum and he grimaced, clamping down on his magic again. Ozpin squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. Distraction. Oscar needed distraction. "So what herbs do you need?" he asked his guardian. "We have some good compost now. If any of it is delicate, I can adjust the compost over the winter."

"If there are herbs to grow, then I have some requests," Penny added.

"Penny-"

"My dad is an expert in pharmacology. He will be making many medications for his work now."

Oscar felt that undercurrent again.

Ozpin gave a nudge. "Oscar, why don't you show Ms. Polendina to the rooftop garden. You'll need to plan for vegetables and crops next year, and it's best if you have a good idea how much space you have. Ms. Polendina also will need to know your limits of space."

"Oh, don't use that as an excuse," Nana Calavera said. "We can set up something out back with the well. We just need someone who's good with fencing to make sure the other buildings don't get ideas that it's for them as well."

Oscar nodded, plans starting to fill his head about watering schedules, when he could check the green house and a back garden while apprenticing. For winter, he'd need to focus on compost and what seedlings he might be able to grow. Maybe if they left the stove on all day while they were out? Like a banked fire overnight? Would that be warm enough? Hmmmm.

"Do you want to come up and see, Dr. Polendina?" Oscar asked.

Dr. Polendina's face flashed in pain, and Penny's face went blank. Behind him he could feel Ozpin stiffen and Nana Calavera tutted.

"What?"

Dr. Polendina pulled off his glasses and pushed back his cap. "You knew, Master Ozma?"

"Not until just now," Ozpin said sadly. "A flash of insight. I'm so sorry."

Dr. Polendina let out a long sigh. "Well, everyone in the building will know eventually, so I suppose I should have mentioned." He looked at Oscar. "I can't walk, you see. The field hospital I was working at ended up under fire and my back was broken."

"Oh!" Oscar straightened. "I'm sorry! I had no idea! I-"

"It's fine," Dr. Polendina said. "I'm… getting used to it, is all."

"I am here to assist," Penny said firmly. "We both have much to learn."

Ozpin let out a long sigh. "Oscar, head up to the garden with Ms. Polendina. Show her around."

Oscar nodded solemnly. Left unsaid was a lesson Oscar had learned during the heat of summer and how Ozpin valued his independence. He needed to talk to Penny about that.

He turned and pasted on a bright smile he didn't quite feel. "Come on," he said. "I can show you what we have. The garden was in a horrible state when I got here. I've had to build it from scratch. Tell me what you need…"

He brought her inside.

Ozpin watched Oscar take Ms. Polendina inside and knew that his son would likely be talking about independence. He had seen that Oscar felt a certain call and while Ozpin was able to help Oscar keep the magic closed, it had required his own magic. He hadn't expected that flash of insight as a result and it felt like he'd invaded Pietro's privacy.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

Pietro shrugged. "My girl, she's trying her best. She gave up her practical to start helping me. I want her to go back to it, but…"

Ozpin nodded. "Your paralysis is different from mine, correct?"

"Yes," Pietro nodded. "Your knee won't ever move again. I'm glad to hear your ankle still has some mobility. I thought it hadn't."

"I know," Ozpin replied. "You'd recommended amputation. I prefer to be as I am now."

"I can see that more clearly now," Pietro said. He leaned over and grabbed the leg of his pants, using it to move his foot and leg around. "I don't have the same problem. I can't feel anything below my hips. I keep telling my legs to move, and it's clear that they can, but the message doesn't get through."

"Your daughter will be moving you?"

"Oh, you should see the exercises that girl puts her father through," Maria said with a sharp smile. "I can hear it every morning. You won't have to worry about bedsores."

Pietro chuckled. "No, I suppose not. She's stronger than she looks."

"Enough of the doom and gloom, you two," Maria scolded. "My eyes don't work but even I can see the frowns and despair. You're alive, healthy, and capable."

"Very true," Ozpin said, running a hand along his cane. "I have learned a great deal since the fever. A great deal about myself and about how I lived compared to how I am now. I am better for it, though I wish the price wasn't so high."

"High price indeed," Pietro muttered. "I doubt I'll ever accept this as you have, Ozpin."

"With that kind of talk, you won't," Maria sassed. "You'll get there in your own time, but you can't go wallowing like that."

Ozpin put a hand on Maria's shoulder. Maria has been blind all her life. She'd never had the same loss.

"It is difficult," he said to Pietro. "I can remember when I was a child running down the hall, or when I was at the university in Beacon and running across campus late for some meeting. I remember climbing flight after flight of stairs like it was nothing. It is incredibly difficult to know that I could do something and now I can't. But that doesn't mean I can't get the same results in a different way. How I've climbed stairs has changed, but I can still do it. I can't run, but I can still make a good pace. Instead of getting down to my knees for something on the floor, I bring over a stool and lean over. You need to learn what you can still do, just in a different way."

Pietro pulled off his cap, rubbing at his bald head and then back through his gray hair. "Maybe."

"Hey, is this a tenant meeting?"

At the base of the steps was Mr. Branwen.

"You dusty old crow," Maria frowned. "Why are you home now instead of in two hours?"

Mr. Branwen shrugged. "Some military type came by and spoke to the boss. He told everyone to take the rest of the day. Still paid us the same."

Ozpin frowned. He had a bad feeling about that, but he kept his magic shut.

"Hey, Oz," Mr. Branwen said, looking up with a smile.

"Good evening Mr.- Excuse me, good evening Qrow."

Qrow's eyes danced. "So, what are we all sitting around for?" He pulled out his flask and took a swig.

"We're enjoying the lovely weather while it lasts," Ozpin replied. "While the winters here aren't as cold as Vale, it will get quite chilly here."

"Chilly, he says," Qrow chuckled. "I don't want to know what a Valean winter is like, in that case. Winters here will freeze your ass off."

"Oh," Pietro said with a smile, "I'd argue that Vale's winters are a mild spring day compared to Atlas."

Qrow shivered.

"Tch," Maria scoffed. "The summers here are like late autumn compared to Vacuo. But Vacuo is drier, so it's much better."

"Alas," Ozpin said lightly, "I wouldn't be able to stand that heat. This was the better choice for me."

"Please," Maria said, "you can't stand the heat here, either. You'd have been better off in Atlas."

"If I want to be able to move in the winter, I need the milder climate."

Qrow looked up at him, a gleam in his eye. "You ever need some heat this winter, let me know."

Ozpin tilted his head. "Oh? Do you know where we can get firewood cheaper?"

The man gave a crooked smile, and ran a hand through his graying hair. "Or something."

"Don't bother," Maria said. "I'd hear that kind of nonsense and I don't want to know about it."

"Nonsense?"

Pietro laughed.

Feeling something had slipped by him, Ozpin merely shrugged. "In any event, Pietro, what I said still stands. Find what you can do. Insist on doing it. People will start making assumptions now, and you need to be ready to bear those assumptions. Grace and dignity will come later. But never let pride prevent you from asking for help."

"Yes, yes, I hear you," Pietro waved it off. "I'll think about it."

Qrow came up the stoop, wavered a bit, before taking Oscar's vacated place beside Ozpin. His sitting required Ozpin to move to the side, pushing into Maria.

"So if we're having a tenant meeting, what are we discussing?"

"Pride and how it goes after a fall," Maria immediately replied. "Being too proud to ask for help. And go sit by Pietro, you dumb bird! You're too wide to be next to Ozpin like that without pushing me down the rail. You wouldn't do that to a blind woman would you?"

Qrow gave a flat glare. "You could move as well. Age before beauty."

"Ozpin's the beautiful one here, not me," Maria groused. "I'm too old for all that."

"Hey, what I meant was-"

Ozpin levered himself up and moved across to sit on the rail by Pietro's chair. "There," he said brightly. "Now you two can argue without me in the way."

Qrow pouted, slouching forward.

Pietro laughed again, nudging him. "Ozpin, don't you see your own future here?"

"That's impossible to see. No sayer can ever see their own future. That would be like asking Qrow to lift himself off the ground by his own belt."

"Sayer?" Qrow asked.

Ozpin closed his mouth. He never liked discussing soothsaying. Pietro and Maria, they both knew his position and he had given them readings. He could discuss things with them because they had honest curiosity and respect from the old days. He had forgotten that Qrow, like most in the building, didn't know his job. He didn't wish to face any backlash from those who thought him a scam artist.

Pietro didn't seem to notice Ozpin's hesitancy.

"Oh, you don't know? Ozpin here is a soothsayer. The most powerful of this generation, and I can say that his accuracy is stunning. Why-"

"Pietro," Ozpin said heavily. Then he sighed. "I'll be heading in now," he said, levering himself up again. "Someone needs to get dinner ready."

"Ozpin-"

"Hey, Oz, it's-"

He turned and tried to put on a smile. "If I see Penny, I'll send her down. I'm sure Oscar is very delighted to be talking about the garden. I wouldn't want to disturb anyone here." He headed inside. He didn't want to hear any sort of derision to his profession when he finally had an apprentice, his son, to teach.

Author's Notes: ... and now we slowly start to populate the building. Pietro and Penny arrive for apartment number 2 on the first floor, across from Maria. We learn a little bit about what Oz's prior illness was like. For those curious, we based Oz's disability on acute gouty arthritis, something our grandfather Papa had, and polio. Did we mention that in a prior author's note? Don't remember... We also learn that Pietro knows Oz from the backbreaker, as a doctor he was one of the frontline people trying to treat and cure the fever when it swept through - more on that later. Penny is more of a cameo for now, but she'll get a few bigger scenes later as she makes a great vehicle for cultural observations.

But really this chapter is about Oscar being overwhelmed and Oz struggling to do right by his shiny new son. The warm and fuzzies in the beginning of the chapter keep making us smile. Also, Qrow shows up and (finally) ISN'T drunk. Hallelujah! He's also a Good Person when he's (mostly) sober.

Next chapter: more training for Oscar, and the war finally teases itself in the fic.