A\N: Hey, everyone! I just wanted to let you all know- there is music mentioned here. What did you expect with a title like Soul of The Song? That there would be no music? Ha. Ha. Ha.
More on it in the end. For now, on with the show!
Chapter 8: Guess Who?
Ozpin rolled his neck as the last student entered the classroom, cane by his side. All things told, it wasn't such a difficult day. All he had scheduled was the one elective class, after which he had the day free for himself.
Some of the students thought that the headmaster never stopped working. They whispered that late at night, the elderly professor could still be found at his desk. They were mostly true- he did spend an inordinate amount of time at his computer. Fortunately, he had the rest of the day to relax, in a rare turn of events.
"Welcome, students. Welcome to Philosophy of A Huntsman."
He got up, pacing behind his desk. This was one of his favorite subjects. While some might be more interested in the how-to aspects of a Huntsman's role, he enjoyed the more theoretical intricacies.
"Let us start off with a simple question. What is the purpose of a Huntsman?"
He had taught this course year after year, always leading off with this question. The spectacled professor smiled as multiple hands went up.
"Mr. Arc?"
"To fight the monsters of Grimm." An excellent answer, but…
"Partially correct, Mr. Arc. It is true that we do spend a great deal of time combating Grimm. However, that is not the only thing we do."
Ozpin went up to the blackboard, writing Jaune's answer. "Anyone else?"
Ah, Blake had raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Belladonna?"
"To make the world a better place?"
Ozpin wasn't surprised by the former Fang member's response. Blake had come to try and do just that. She and her family had been involved in that struggle for the better part of the past ten years.
He chuckled. "Close, but not quite. We do try to make the world better, it is true. However, we are typically a reactive measure. Someone notices a pack of Beowolves, and a job notice is posted. Rarely do we try to actively seek issues to resolve. Anyone else?"
Reshan raised his hand. "Mr. Oobleck?"
"Let's see what drives you," he thought inwardly. This would be a good opportunity to peer into the scarred teen's mindset.
"To protect the people," he responded.
"Correct, Reshan." The boy breathed a sigh of relief. "That is the primary purpose of the Huntsman. We protect the people. We are, so to say, the watchers of the gates. What do I mean by that?"
Once again, his hand rose. "Yes?"
"While the knight may not agree with what transpires inside the castle, his vow is to protect it, for it is better to have a ruined castle than nothing at all." Odd, that. His method of response was certainly archaic, but his point was correct enough.
"Indeed." He walked out to the front of the class. "It is true that there are injustices done every day. When we find them, we attempt to correct them. However, we cannot try to fix everything. Some issues are beyond our reach." He nodded to Blake subtly.
"What can we do then?" The boy had a concerned look on his face. Ozpin smiled.
"By making stories." The class made a collective noise of confusion. "Tell me, how many of you came here because you heard the stories of the great Huntsmen and Huntresses of the past?"
Almost a full half of the class raised their hands. Ozpin nodded. "By their actions, the next generation is inspired to make a better world. Legends like The Knight of The Dawn, who gave his life in service to his kingdom, or of the ancient Maidens. Their goodness led to a better world."
"So the purpose of a Huntsman is to gain glory?" Reshan frowned, crossing his arms.
Ozpin shook his head. "No. We do not fight for tales to be told of us. We fight because it is what is asked of us. It is our duty to maintain the peace we have fought, bled, and died for. In doing so, however, we inspire the next generation."
He turned to the class. "Now then, let us begin the lesson. We will examine the story of Orishima the Determined." He sat in his chair, and cleared his throat.
"Orishima was a farmer from Anima who was conscripted into the Great War. He came to war with nothing but a pitchfork and a bucket on his head. Yet, by the end he was considered one of the greatest heroes of the century. Why?" A hand at the back was raised. "Yes, Ms. Rose?"
"He fought off a whole battalion with nothing but his squad!"
"He did have many martial victories to his name, true. However, that is what he did, not why he became well known."
A hand that he didn't expect came up. "Yes, Mr. Winchester?"
"He got to where he was by working his as- er, butt off." Ozpin smiled.
"Correct. Orishima didn't become a legend by relying on a Semblance, or his innate talents. He studied tactical manuals day and night, training practically nonstop. He didn't become a hero because he wanted to- he did so he could protect his squadmates."
"His Semblance allowed him to grow pumpkins from seeds. It wasn't a particularly effective Semblance- he used it more for farming than anything. Yet he managed to find a military advantage out of it, disrupting charge after charge of cavalry by sowing the ground with seeds the night before battle, then causing them to sprout during the fight."
He smiled. "He is a hero, not because he wanted to become one, but because he was doing his duty.
Ozpin retracted his cane. "Let us try another story. Anyone have a suggestion?" A dozen hands went up. "Mr. Lark?"
"The Four Seasons." Ozpin nodded, going into an examination of the Wizard and the four Maidens. As he went into the lesson, he couldn't help but notice Reshan's frown. Something was bothering him.
"Yes, Mr. Oobleck?"
"Aren't the Maidens real?" Ozpin choked on his coffee while the class laughed. Hacking, he frowned. His organization had spent a long time wiping away any hint of Maidens actually existing. For Reshan to both know, and to simply ask point blank as if it were common knowledge?
It said several things about the amnesiac. His knowledge base was already unlike most students at Beacon. If he knew of this secret, it was highly likely that he knew of others as well. He knew for a fact that the Brawnwen tribe was aware of the Maidens- Raven would have made sure of that. Hopefully she would be able to shed some light on the situation.
"I assure you, if there were four superpowered women running around the world, we would know about it," he said. Reshan's frown didn't disappear, but he nodded. Ozpin quickly changed the subject, hoping to stave off any more questions from the amnesiac. Maybe having him in this class wasn't the best idea….
Ozpin silently messaged Qrow. He needed answers. Now.
"We're heading to an arcade tonight. You wanna come with?"
Yang scratched the back of her head as Reshan paused digging into his salad. He turned with a contemplative look.
She'd heard about it from one of her friends as a great place to blow off some steam. It promised to be a good time, especially after a long week.
At first, she'd been the only one who had been planning to go. Last night, Blake had pulled her aside and asked if she could go with her. After some light teasing, Yang agreed. If their resident bookworm was going to try and be social, who was she to stand in her way?
Ruby had practically squealed when she'd found out after interrogating the team on their weekend plans. The scarlet speedster had immediately dragged Weiss into the conversation, yelling something about a 'team outing.'
Yang smirked at the memory. It had been plain as day that the heiress had no real plans for the weekend besides studying. That hadn't stopped her from stammering about not being able to fit it into her schedule. Ruby had bowled over her excuses, practically forcing her at scythe-point to agree to go.
Afterwards, Yang had decided that they might as well bring the whole gang, and invited JNPR along. Reshan was the only one left.
Which led to their current predicament.
"What is an arcade?" Yang facepalmed at the question. How did he not know what an arcade was?
Oh, right. Amnesia.
Ruby piped up from her hot dog. "There are a bunch of games we get to play! You get tickets you can spend on prizes too."
The scarred teen grinned. "What kind of games?"
Ruby started vibrating with excitement. "There's a whole bunch! There's your regular stuff like Whack-a-Grimm, Cap-man, there's a dancing machineandawholebunchofotherstuffthat'satonoffun!"
Yang stretched. "I set the high score on that back home."
"Like an oaf like yourself knows how to dance," Weiss snarked. Yang raised an eyebrow.
"Is that a challenge? Cuz I can dance you under the table."
Weiss's face briefly flashed a feral grin before regaining her composure. "We shall see, Yang Xiao Long. We shall see, indeed…"
"Oh, you're gonna see. By the end, I bet you'll beg on your knees for forgiveness!"
"Wha- how dare you! A Schnee doesn't beg!" Weiss crossed her arms. "She graciously allows her defeated adversaries the opportunity to grovel for their pitiful lives."
Ruby's face paled slightly, though the smile still remained on her face. "Maybe we should talk about something else? Something you two won't argue about?"
Yang slammed a fist on the table, causing piping hot soup to scald Jaune's face. "This is a matter of honor, sis! There's no backing down."
Reshan's shoulders began to shake.
"When I totally wipe the dance floor with you I want you to publicly admit you can't dance worth a Lien!"
"When you're begging at my feet for mercy, there will be none."
"Owww…."
Jaune's cries of pain went ignored.
Weiss smiled a wolf's savage grin before it pounced on its prey. "When I win, you're going to be my maid for the next week. Though it's more likely that I'll be doing you a service by teaching you how to clean up after yourself!"
Reshan put his head down, the occasional giggle coming out. Ruby joined him, the two laughing at the unfolding scene.
Blake simply smiled as she got it all on camera. She hadn't gotten such good blackmail material even during her time in the White Fang!
Jaune finished wiping off his face, brushing aside the napkin Pyrrha offered. "So who's judging the contest? Not like I'm volunteering-"
"Absolutely not you, Jaune. You're far too taken with me to judge fairly." Weiss smirked. Jaune sighed, then put his head down on the table. Pyrrha consolingly patted him on the back.
"Then who?" Pyrrha asked. Yang rolled her eyes.
"Well, how about Ren?" The ninja looked up, a small smile on his face.
"I would be happy-" Nora immediately covered his mouth, glaring at Yang.
"There isn't a pancake's chance in breakfast I'm allowing you two to dance for my Rennie. Uh-uh. No way."
Reshan frowned. "Are the two of you courting?"
The ginger's face turned as red as her hair. "Uh- we- well, uh-"
Ren spoke up, face only slightly pink. "We're friends, that's all."
Huh. Yang could have sworn the two were together together, not friends. Jaune's raised eyebrow reflected her skepticality right back at her.
Nora nodded. "Yeah, friends… just really good friends." Under her breath, she muttered, "Wish we were courting…"
"Then there's no problem with Ren judging, right?" Nora grumbled as Ren nodded.
"Perfect. Then let the terms of our accord be set." Reshan cleared his throat, pulling out a notebook from his bag. "Yang Xiao Long has been challenged by Weiss Schnee in a… erm… competition of valor, to be determined by dance," he intoned while writing the statement. "Upon determination by Lie Ren, the victor of the match will determine the fate of the other contestant. Yang, your sentence is…?"
"Weiss's gonna admit publicly that she can't dance worth a damn," Yang stated confidently. Weiss snarked.
"As if. My punishment for Yang will be to make her my maid for the next week. During said time, she will clean my section of the room, bring meals up to the room at mealtime, and wait on me hand and foot to attend to my every need."
"Whoa, hold on-"
"In addition, she will be responsible for taking my schedule, ensuring that my Scroll is charged at all times, and any other menial labor which I deem to be necessary." Weiss turned to Yang, a vicious smirk obscuring any sense of humanity. It was as though all the empathy mankind had naturally was sucked out, only to be replaced with a perverse pleasure in causing Yang misery. Crap. What had she just gotten herself into?
"Are these terms agreeable to both parties?" The two nodded. Yang fidgeted nervously. "Then the accord is struck," Reshan concluded. "May the Brothers watch over… whatever this is." He put away his notebook, then stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to read up on the Petrovax Frontier Theory."
Yang winced. Hadn't Professor Oobleck mentioned something about that before? Hopefully they didn't have a pop-quiz coming up.
Yang rose to her feet as well, the rest of the team following suit. "See you later, fancypants." They were going to take care of the Group Tactics paper that Ozpin had assigned at the end of class. Reshan had been exempt, given that he wasn't actually part of their team. In lieu, he had to write a report on individual tactics.
Jaune nodded, his team rising. "Same, fancypants! See you 'round!"
Reshan sighed. "Why does everyone call me that…."
"BLAARGH!"
Jaune winced in sympathy as Reshan hurled the contents of his lunch out the window of the taxi. Yang watched with a mix of revulsion and glee.
"Hey, looks like you got a new nickname. Everyone, meet Vomit Boy Mk. II. Or 'Mark' for short."
After they arrived at The Ticket Stand, Jaune quickly rushed to the nearest trash can. He was joined by Reshan, and the pair proceeded to empty their stomachs. Yang and Blake rolled their eyes at the guys.
"Seriously? You can't handle a five minute taxi ride?" Yang put a hand on her hip. "I guess you'll be 'Reshan' to the bathroom next." Blake groaned.
"Seriously?"
"I take my res-pun-sibilities very seriously, thank you very much."
"Yang, you have a serious problem."
"Yeah, I guess. Hey, you know what would fix it?"
"Electric shock therapy?"
"Nah. Acu-pun-cture!"
While they waited for the rest of the group, Yang proceeded to lay down a pun-a-geddon of epic proportions. Jaune could not survive the onslaught of corny jokes. He covered his ears in a futile attempt to shield himself and prayed for an end to the madness. Why did she have to make so many puns? It was utterly ridiculous how she could think of so many. Or had she memorized all of them? It was a scary thought.
Reshan fought valiantly, but after a few short minutes he was reduced to a giggling wreck. Blake, being Blake, merely whipped out her book and ignored the catastrophe.
"-And that's when I said I was berry annoyed with-"
"Hey guys. What's up?"
Jaune breathed a sigh of relief as Ruby's muffled voice filtered through his ears. He emerged from his crouched position to find the rest of his team milling around, along with Ruby and Weiss.
Weiss… oh, Weiss. She was so beautiful. Her hair, the way her eyes narrowed whenever she saw him, her elegant fighting style…
He'd never seen an angel before she met her.
"Now that would make for a good line. Maybe I should use it later…"
Yang mercifully stopped tormenting them. After collecting themselves, they entered the arcade.
Jaune was no stranger to arcades. Back in Ansel, the Arc family practically had a video game tournament every weekend to see who was the best at Ultra Bash Bros. Jaune typically finished first or second, to the admiration and dismay of his sisters. Plus, his skill at Immortal Combat was pretty good, too.
"Well, what do we do first?" Maybe some dancing, to get that whole 'duel' thing out of the way.
Yang chuckled in anticipation. "Weiss, you wanna do this now or later?"
Weiss shook her head. "After about an hour, perhaps? I… I've never been to an arcade before."
Jaune raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well, looks like you're in luck, Snow Angel. I just happen to be a master of the arcade. Stick with me and-"
"OHMYGOSH!" Ruby's squeal of shock cut him off. With a flurry of petals, she immediately rushed to her partner's side. "Really? You've never gone to an arcade before?" Before waiting for a response, she dragged Weiss away. "Leave it to me!"
Before Jaune could give chase, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Reshan with an expression of wonder.
"You have experience with places like this?" Jaune nodded dejectedly. So much for an evening with Weiss.
"Might I ask you to show me around? I too am a stranger to arcades."
Great, chaperoning. Looking around, he saw that the rest of the group had already dispersed, leaving him with the Mistralian.
Awesome. Just awesome.
Without You- David Guetta (ft. Usher)
He reached for her hand, ebony skin reflecting the red sun burning the already-scorched desert. Like the setting sun, heat blazed under his skin. His regret for forsaking his beloved set his shame aflame. His determination to never repeat such a misdeed seared his mind, branding the raw thought into an ingot of steel that would pass the test of time.
He could see her hesitation to accept his apology. The hurt in her eyes brought him nearly to tears.
When he opened his lips, the words flowed off his tongue. He had been planning this apology ever since he had failed his beloved so terribly.
Hopefully, she would accept it. Otherwise, how would he go on?
"DAMMIT!"
Reshan laughed as Weiss stomped off the stage, the screen flashing her failing score in bright yellow numerals. The heiress glared at the group, daring them to mock her failure. Reshan was unable to remove his smile at the arcade. Weiss proceeded to direct her ire at him, mistakenly thinking that he was laughing at her expense.
Nothing could be further from the truth. This… arcade… it was nothing like Reshan had ever seen. It was full of such wonders that he felt as though he would never be able to comprehend them. There was so much to do!
For starters, how did the fake weapons track his shots? There was nothing connecting it to the machine other than a simple rubber cord. When he'd asked Jaune, he mentioned something about "lasers". He would have to ask Dr. Oobleck later what those were.
Cars. Cars made absolutely no sense. Their ability to take in a black fluid and generate movement out of it seemed impossible, but he'd been forced to accept their existence when they'd driven here in one. Unfortunately, the experience had been ruined by his motion sickness.
He'd spotted Ruby earlier on a simulation of a car, much to his amazement. Why would someone do that? Unless it was for practice, it didn't seem to make much sense. He wouldn't ride in a merchant's wagon for fun.
After he'd asked her just that, the scarlet speedster had immediately put him in the driver's seat. The rush of adrenaline that came was utterly unexpected. Even though it was simulated, the speeds were astronomical. Could cars actually go this fast? No wonder society could progress so much- a trip that took weeks would take mere hours at this speed. He thought that he had done pretty well… until Ruby had pointed out he was driving backwards.
Weiss, surprisingly, had just as much luck with the driving simulator. Upon driving into the wall once again, she let out a stream of obscenities that made Ruby's face turn as red as her cloak.
Reshan's eyes had widened. He recognized none of the insults, but that hadn't prevented him from avoiding any and all eye contact with Weiss.
While he was doing that, Pyrrha had challenged Jaune to a rather violent-sounding game called Immortal Combat, while Nora was apparently glued to the Whack-a-Grimm machine. Ren had drifted off for a time before they found him simply sitting and watching from the snack section, a tea in hand. Blake sat next to him, her ever-present book guarding her from any interaction.
After a while, he'd gravitated towards Yang, who was belting out the lyrics to a song he didn't recognize holding a black cylinder with a silver sphere on top. After she finished, they commenced the dance challenge, collecting their comrades on the way.
The way they went about it was quite strange, in his opinion. There was a small stage with arrows inscribed on it. A screen displayed the correct sequence, as well as allowing for the user to pick what song they danced to. Apparently, the goal was to step on the correct arrow in time to the music, the thought being that it would simulate dancing. He didn't think very highly of it. Neither had Weiss, who'd gone first without understanding the game.
Which led to her current frustration.
"It's okay, Ice Queen," Yang said with a mockingly sweet voice. "We still love you!"
Weiss's look could have frozen a hot spring. "I demand a rematch!"
Ren shook his head. "The rules do not allow for this." Nora, who had somehow procured a whistle, blew it at the end, accentuating her partner's point.
The heiress muttered under her breath. Yang confidently stepped on the platform. "Watch and learn, Weiss-cream. This is how to do it."
She selected a song, and it started to play.
I Burn
Casey Lee Williams
Her movements were hesitant at first, but they soon became smooth. As the song began, Reshan leaned against the wall, listening to the song. He let the story the tune portrayed play against his mind, a tale of triumph and flame and love for kin.
Yang stepped forward confidently, flames running up and down her skin. Her opponent shrank back, fear written upon his face. Oh well. He shouldn't have tried to hit on her.
"Go Yang!" Ruby cheered. The younger sibling threw her arms in the air.
She casually sidestepped the blow he threw, then seized him by the collar.
"Next time you try that, I'm not going to go so easy on you," she warned.
"Nice try, blondie," the goon snarked. "Maybe your sister would be more willing-"
His words cut off as Yang hurled him against the ground. The flooring cracked under the force of the throw.
No one talked about hitting on her little sister. No one!
Yang grew more confident as the song progressed. She started to throw in some hand motions that he didn't recognize. What was with this world? Their mode of dance was far too scandalous, with shaking hips that belonged nowhere decent.
He groaned in pain. The rest of his buddies didn't look too happy at seeing their buddy manhandled (or was it womanhandled?). With a glance among themselves, they advanced with dark looks.
She grinned, preparing her gauntlets as she reared back. When they hesitated, she struck first.
As the song neared the end, Reshan felt a soft heat creep up his scalp.
They were no match for her. She was the sun. A force of nature made human.
Yang batted aside their puny strikes, letting them realize their folly as she tore into them. Most fell with naught but a single punch, the toughest among them taking two.
She left with a grin, shining as bright and radiant as the sun. Or, if you preferred, as the tavern, which was now on fire.
When the song came to an end, Nora blew her whistle. "I officially declare Yang the winner!"
Reshan was the first to congratulate Yang. "Gotta say, pretty damn good job!"
He immediately clapped two hands over his mouth. Why had he used such coarse language?
He then realized that his voice wasn't the only one that left his mouth. His thoughts ground to a halt.
"Uh… Reshan?"
"Yeah, Ruby?"
He was starting to panic. What on Remnant was going on?
"Why is Yang's voice coming out of- OHMYGOSHYANGYOUREAVENTRILOQUIST!"
"What the hell is going on?"
The group looked around in confusion for a moment before they realized that Reshan and Yang had spoken at the same time, in the exact same tone.
His head felt as if a Beowulf was using it as a scratching post. The inky blackness that represented the hole in his mind had started throbbing, and his scars itched something fierce.
Nora laughed nervously. "Yeah, so… uh… have fun! This seems like a team RWBY situation, right? You've got it, no need for help from little old me! Toodeloo!"
The manic ginger disappeared, followed by Ren. Thankfully, the other members of team JNPR did not abandon their comrades as swiftly. A concerned look spread across Jaune's face. "Tell me what I can do to help."
Yang snorted. "You guys go enjoy yourselves. Nora hit it on the head- we've got this."
Pyrrha nodded hesitantly. "Well, let us know if you need anything, okay?"
The two left, Jaune looking over his shoulder.
Ruby darted up to the new addition, looking him over. "So… what's up? You feel alright?"
Reshan paused, trying to collect himself. "I'm not sure what's going on, Rubes. My head feels weird… real weird. Like deja vu, but it isn't going away."
To be fair, he was in considerably more pain than that. He didn't want to worry Ruby, so he kept that part to himself.
He checked his Aura, and found something incredibly odd.
Typically, a knight would be accustomed to the feel of his or her own Aura, having used it in battle countless times. Reshan's Aura felt unfamiliar. His Aura was typically calm and clear, like the waters of a pond in a silent grove. An occasional ripple would disrupt the silence for a brief moment, before it returned to normal.
He believed this to be a reflection of his personality. He was mostly a calm man, not given to flights of fancy. There was an additional connection, if he was correct. His Aura was clear, and empty, much like his memories. Reshan suspected that as he grew into his own personality, his Aura would change, indicative of a more complex personality.
Now, his Aura was largely different. Instead of peace, he found fire. A blazing flame that warmed those it protected, and scorched those who would dare to impede it. It wasn't his Aura, that was for certain. Inwardly, he started to panic. Was he possessed? Maybe they should try to find a priest.
A concerned look flitted across Yang's face. "You wanna sit down for a sec?"
"Yeah… yeah, that sounds good," Reshan replied. The group went to the food court, where Blake was still snuggled with her book.
The Beastfolk looked up as they approached. With a sigh, she put her book down. "Reshan? Are you alright?"
He held out a hand, wobbling it in a so-so gesture. "Kinda funny you ask, Blakey."
Blake raised an eyebrow at his dual voice. "Uh… what happened?"
"That's what we're going to figure out," Weiss said. She firmly pushed Reshan into a booth, before sitting down across from him. Ruby darted in after her, with Yang sitting on Reshan's side.
"Didn't think you'd move so fast, Weiss," he snarked. "We just met!"
A faint feeling of shame rose up within him. What was he doing, speaking so crassly? He wasn't acting like he usually did. He'd never flirt with his teammates, let alone so brazenly.
Weiss ignored the statement, thank the Brothers. "Yang, I think he's had a concussion."
The blonde raised an eyebrow. "How do you explain the creepy voice? Or the eyes?"
Weiss frowned. "I don't know." She jabbed a finger towards the scarred teen. "All I can say is that the Reshan I know would never make a statement like he just did. He's far more polite."
Reshan laughed, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "Aww, you're gonna make me blush!"
Yang nodded. "Fancypants wouldn't, I guess."
Weiss paused as a flash of inspiration crossed her face. "No… but you would. All of the things he's said up until now are things you routinely mention in conversation." She started peering into Reshan's eyes, causing the scarred teen a small measure of nervousness.
Yang scratched her forehead. "Yeah, I guess." She absently tugged her mane of hair to the front.
"Also, he called Ruby by your nickname. Tell me that doesn't strike you as a little odd."
Yang immediately stood up, eyes flashing red. "Okay that's weird. What the hell?"
Ruby nodded. "What are you thinking, Weiss?"
Weiss leaned back, a satisfied smirk on her face. "His Semblance isn't Dust Nullification."
Reshan frowned. "Uh… you sure you want to be the one to tell Coco that? I'm pretty damn sure I wrecked her… um… handbag."
The heiress's eyes gleamed. "Yes, you did. But that isn't your Semblance- it's someone else's. You just copied everything Yang does on a daily basis, and your eye colour matched hers."
The scarred teen mulled that over for a moment. "So you think I copied Yang?"
"No. I know you just copied Yang. Oh, and by the way- your eyes are back to normal."
Reshan blinked rapidly. With a shock, he felt his mind again, and was relieved to find that his headache had ceased, and the hole of his memories had receded to its typical black.
He widened his eyes, raising his arms supplicatingly. "I'm not possessed, I swear!"
"Tell us a story, Grandpa!"
Professor Port chuckled as his grandchildren sat in a circle around him, clamoring for tales of glory and valour. He leaned back on his rocking chair, enjoying the comforting crackle of the fireplace beside him.
"Would you like to hear about my brave adventures into the dastardly Grimmlands?" The question was met with a chorus of groans.
"That's boring!" they exclaimed. "We heard that last time!" Peter simply chuckled.
He was truly blessed to have such an audience. While slaying Grimm did bring a certain sense of satisfaction, seeing the fruits of his labor was truly the best reward a Huntsman could ask for.
This was the reason he fought. He didn't need money anymore- his accomplishments as the premiere expert on Grimm brought in more Lien then he could shake Blowhard at. There was nothing like coming back home to find his family sitting at the dinner table, his children clamoring for more stories!
"How about Garrick the Wise?" he boomed. The youngest one, Clark, immediately squealed.
"YES!"
Peter chuckled. "Ah, the enthusiasm of youth! Gather round, little ones. This is the tale of Garrick the Wise."
"Thousands of years ago, there was a youth, who was named Garrick. He was a weak lad, due to sickness, and the other children in the village made fun of the boy for it."
"But Grandpa, that's mean," Freida whined. Peter nodded.
"Quite so, my dear. But Garrick was a brave lad, nonetheless, and he paid no attention to those ne'er-do-wells. He was trained by his father, a warrior of great renown.
"'Garrick, my boy,' he once said, 'pay them no heed. Strength is not the making of a man, but what he does with it.'"
"What did he mean," Gabby asked. The portly professor leaned back.
"Patience, my dear, patience. All will be revealed in good time," he deferred. The five year old pouted, but she nodded.
"One day, Garrick ventured out of the village to obtain some apples for the harvest festival. Unbeknownst to our brave hero, a dastardly Geist had taken possession of the tree!"
"When the lad came to the tree, he reached up to pluck an apple. To his dismay, the apple grew an arm… and plucked him!"
His audience squealed in anticipation. Peter's eyes gleamed.
"But our brave hero wasn't scared, no he wasn't! With a heroic yell, he grabbed his knife, and slashed the arm that had grabbed him!"
"With a monstrous shriek, the Grimm released the lad. As he picked himself up, the monster roared. The young boy simply nodded in response, planning his next strike. The Geist threw itself at the lad, planning on tearing him apart!"
Clark yelped in fright. Peter simply laughed.
"There, there. Do you truly believe our brave warrior would be felled by such a blow? He quickly dodged, then leapt atop his adversary."
"Garrick knew that he could not face such a fiend head on. So, he faced him from behind! Unlike most monsters, there is a special weakness that Geists have. If you strike it on the face, it must leave whatever it possesses."
"He hid in the boughs of the tree for hours, until the beast thought the lad had fled. Then, he struck! The boy crept down… and slew the beast with two mighty blows!" Peter made two swings with an imaginary sword. His grandchildren oohed and ahhed.
"But our boy paid a price, yes indeed. The tree was filled with thorns, you see. He walked with a limp from that day forward. His arms were marred by scars, a final wound from his adversary."
"When he arrived home, he was greeted with tears. His family had thought him dead, you see. It was well past nightfall when he returned. But the next day, he was declared a hero! No one had ever slew such a beast at such a young age, you see."
Peter smiled. "From that day forward, Garrick finally understood what his father had meant. Strength is useless without wisdom to accompany it. The lad went on to become a warrior of fabled legend, and he lived happily ever after."
The children cheered. Ah, what a story!
If he was right, the best part of the night was about to begin. Holly always prepared a little something for her favorite sweetiekins, as she called them.
"Now, how about some of Grandma's chocolate chip cookies?" He leaned in conspiratorially. "I think I know where she hid the cookie jar this time."
Peter knew that they looked forward to his stories. He also knew that they loved cookies more than anything else. The great Stool Wars of last year served as proof of such. As did the cheers erupting around him.
"YAY!"
Ozpin tried to keep his face straight in the face of disaster, but he knew that he would crack.
"Glynda… how could you? I trusted you!"
His assistant smiled a shark's feral grin. "You shouldn't trust so easily, Ozpin. All it took was a few words, and I played you like putty."
The aged professor eyed Barty out of the corner of his eye. "Barty… please. I know we have our differences, but-"
"An astute observation," he said, pushing his glasses up with his fingers. "However, your recent actions have made your rulership untenable. In this, Levona and I agree."
His wife nodded, chocolate eyes glinting. Her tone spelled a fate as dark as her skin. "Your time is over, Oz."
Glynda chuckled. "Prepare for your doom, Ozpin."
He could only watch in horror.
"I play Grimm Assault, lowering Vale's defences by two points."
Before Ozpin could open his mouth, Levona immediately slammed a card on the table.
"In response, I play Faunus Insurrection, which reduces Ozpin's plays for the turn by one."
Crap. Now he could either save the citizens or defeat the Grimm, but not both.
Barty gave his wife a high five before putting the final nail in the coffin. "I play Workers Union, resulting in a penalty to the infrastructure score as the workers go on strike." In response to his boss's pleading eyes, he simply held up his thermos. "A natural response to a threat is action. Next time, don't take my coffee."
After a few more minutes, Ozpin groaned. His Kingdom was in shambles, his people slaughtered and his city crumbling around him.
"I concede," he muttered. Standing up, he grabbed his cane. His compatriots waved him goodnight as he exited the staff lounge.
Though, he had to admit that playing Remnant: The Board Game had been a nice diversion from the stresses of the week. The first week of school was typically the most difficult, as students and faculty alike grew used to their new acquaintances. It was thankfully not too hard- last year, they'd had to expel a student for sneaking an Ursa into the girl's locker room. He still didn't quite understand exactly how the student smuggled it in- the culprit had refused to explain anything beyond saying 'she said she'd go out with me if I did it'.
The things teenagers did for love.
His Scroll started ringing. Checking, he saw that Qrow was finally responding to his text from earlier today. Excellent.
"Good evening," the professor said. "Any luck with Raven?"
"Nope, but she did agree to meet with me tomorrow," the scruffy man replied. "By the way, you'll never guess- Oi! I'm on the phone here!"
Ozpin heard someone laugh, followed by a soft thud as something made an impact with Qrow's back.
"Where are you?"
Qrow sighed. "I'm at Tai's. He's coming by Sunday, by the way. Something about- YEAH, I'M GETTING TO IT!"
Ozpin chuckled at the antics between the two teammates. "What happened this time, Qrow?"
"Uh, that's what they're coming to talk to you about. You wouldn't believe who just showed up, Oz ..."
He felt his eyebrows creep up his face as Qrow explained the situation.
"By the Gods…."
Ozpin didn't notice the words slipping out of his mouth, or the sound of his cane clattering to the ground.
He couldn't believe it. He'd seen his fair share of impossibilities over the centuries, but this seemed like a miracle. Brothers be praised, she was alive! He had to let the others know!
The aged professor dashed back to the lounge as fast as his legs could carry him. He burst through the door, panting with excitement. The game was still going, with Glynda suffering under the combined wrath of the Ooblecks. Glynda rose, frowning. He couldn't help but feel as if Glynda was secretly relieved to have an excuse to pause the game.
"Sir, is something wrong?" Ozpin smiled, then laughed out loud. Barty and his wife raised their eyebrows at the same time, looking at each other in confusion.
His peals of laughter eventually started to fade. "For the first time in years, no."
"What is it? Has our coffee machine been upgraded?"
"Even better."
"Has my archaeology dig been approved?"
"Better."
Glynda coughed. "Was Jaune Arc expelled?"
"No. Better!"
"Then what, sir?"
Ozpin couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Summer is alive! SHE'S ALIVE!" He trailed off in a fit of maniacal laughter, unable to contain his joy. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he stared up at the roof. "She's alive…."
Levona frowned. "Honey, did you put vodka in his coffee again?"
A/N: Hehehe...
Yeah, this has been on the books since day one.
A small point about the music- you shouldn't feel the need to go listen to the songs. I'm putting them there because they are the inspiration for this story as a whole. In case you didn't figure it out, Weiss is correct, albeit partially. More on that down the line.
If you don't like the whole concept of music as an element in a story, then I am sorry. But they are rather crucial for the story I am writing, and they will become more common as this story fleshes out. Kinda hard to believe I'm at 50k words now.
Please read and review! It really does help me, and I do take the time to go through them.
See you all next week!
Next Chapter: March 20th
P.S. And for those who give a damn, I don't own any of the songs or characters in here, aside from our resident amnesiac.
