-Semblance of Brotherhood-
Chapter 2: The Flickering Swordsman
"And to think, my parents believed you to be Remnant's greatest threat. How... uninspiring." He mocked, driving Regalis deeper into the Beowolf's throat. He'd been ambushed moments ago by a small group of the Grimm, but the effort was for naught. Dispatching Grimm of this caliber was almost as easy as breathing at this stage, they simply weren't intelligent or aware enough to press him. Often a single feint and flourish of his blade was enough to bifurcate the beasts.
He wanted something that fought back.
He'd made decent progress since landing, and had only bothered to kill these things to vent his frustrations. Now that the last of them were dead, he had ground to cover. At first the thought occured to him that he should stalk the canopy, and pick out a particular partner. After all, it was decided by eye-contact, not visual recognition alone.
But, he soon decided against it. For all he knew, Ozpin or Goodwitch would notice his tactic, and deduct from his score for bending the rules. It wasn't a sure thing, but he'd rather play it safe.
So he continued North, flaring his Aura into every step.
It wasn't long, maybe another five minutes of uninterrupted sprinting, before his ears caught the nearby report of a firearm. At first, he figured it best to leave the Initiate alone. After all, there was no possible way that any of the Hunstmen in training here couldn't handle a few Grimm.
"HEEELLP! I'M GONNA DIE!"
Well, shit. No point ignoring it now.
He let out a huff, before changing direction, sprinting towards the sound of the Initiate's horrid cries. By the time he entered the clearing, a hungry pack of Beowolves had surrounded the boy, clearly awaiting their Alpha to deal the finishing strike.
I must have been attacked by a splinter group of this pack.
He drew Regalis, the hiss of metal was enough to make the Grimm's ears perk, and several of their heads turned to look at him. The ominous red glow of their eyes exuded a sense of hunger that was nearly palpable.
His stance lowered, blade held loosely in his hand.
Come on, then. No point stalling.
The one nearest to him let out a vicious snarl, rushing towards him with reckless abandon. He frowned.
Piss off, youngster.
He took a single step forward, meeting the beast's momentum head-on. Just before its claws made contact, Silva flicked Regalis in a circular arc on either side of him, amputating each of its hands from the wrist down. Without slowing his sword, he cut a spin while sidestepping, cleaving into the Grimm's neck as it passed him. Its head flew from its shoulders, black ichor spewing from the wound before its body disintegrated. He snapped his wrist, spattering more of the substance on the ground, where it too evaporated.
He steadied a challenging glare at the rest of the pack, and waited.
Like clockwork.
Just as he thought, the remaining Grimm all lunged toward him, and he was surprised to see the Alpha emerge from the treeline, staring at him with eyes that held cunning. Age.
Yes!
He leapt at the Beowolf closest to him, Regalis rising from beneath its vision to cleanly slash through its midsection. His blade danced in varying arcs and jabs, piercing hearts and carving through limbs with graceful precision. He dipped low, kicking a foot from underneath one of them while lashing out with Regalis, dicing off the leg before he readjusted his sword's path, decapitating the Grimm. He sidestepped another oncoming assault, the foolish creature leaving its torso exposed long enough for him to rip his blade upward, slicing through its spinal column and kicking it away without much effort. He spun, Regalis flashing through the outstretched arms of three more Beowolves before he realised that several more pack-members were following the Alpha in a circle around him, waiting to see if he would survive.
Let's switch this up.
He jumped back, Aura gaining him several yards of space between himself and the pack. They regrouped, the Alpha taking up the rear while the rest waited for its command. He took this moment to get a closer look at the Initiate he'd come to save.
The boy was well-built, a short head of brown hair that matched his eyes. Silva noticed his weapon, a large Mace, was across the clearing. Probably got disarmed by the Alpha, then it sent in the pack to weaken him.
Smart Beowolf. Better be careful.
The boy looked at him, and to his surprise the little shit glared at him, spitting up a little bit of blood before picking himself up. "Fuckin' Faunus, god damn it."
It was little more than a whisper, and any human would have missed it. Except, he wasn't.
"Yeah, now get the fuck up and get out of my way. Get your weapon, and then we'll see if your worth calling my partner." He snapped, patience vanishing in the presence of this impudent racist.
Of course he's my partner. Fucking wonderful. Evil bitch indeed...
The boy's brow narrowed in anger, eyes bulging slightly at his order. "How about you get the fuck out of m-"
An instant later, Silva was in the Initiate's shadow, gripping the back of the fool's collar and slinging him across the clearing with a burst of Aura. He came to a painful stop after skidding several feet, just a few yards from his Mace.
Karma must have a torture fettish. Fucking ingrate, should've left you for the wolves.
His eyes snapped back to the Beowolf pack, who were still simply standing there, waiting. He looked into the red orbs of the Alpha, raising Regalis level with the Grimm.
"You." He demanded, pulling the trigger of his grapple. The anchor shot forth, faster than the beast could react, and sunk into a spacing in its bone armor. He released the trigger, and the spool began to reel in once more. His feet flared with Aura, sinking unto the dirt and grounding him. This time he acted as the anchor, with the Alpha being roughly dragged through the air. At first it seemed to panic, not expecting the sword to be capable of such a thing.
But its senses returned quickly, and its claws sliced through the cable without a second thought.
How unfortunate, then, that he had inlayed Fire Dust across the wire.
The ensuing explosion was mild, but it stunned the Alpha long enough for him to close the distance between them. It was separated from the pack now, and it was too distracted to call for help.
He led with a feint slash, leading the Grimm's guard low before whipping Regalis into a concise arc to dig into the spacing between its shoulder and torso. Ichor leaked from the wound, and the Grimm's reaction was immediate. It backed away, before rushing in again with a quick series of swipes. Silva backstepped, slinging his blade at odd angles to deflect the onslaught, until the creature overextended slightly, taking just a second too long to raise its guard for his counterattack. His boot collided with its thigh, knocking its stance off-balance and he thrusted his sword, sinking it into the Grimm's abdomen before slamming a feral left hook into its jaw, Aura gifting him enough strength to knock the Alpha off its feet.
He moved in, Regalis poised to strike at the drop of a hat. The Grimm looked up at him, quickly shifting to all fours before leaping to the side, dragging the center of Silva's focus out of sync and rushing him in a desperate, calculated maneuver. It knew that it was outmatched, and that its only option was break the Human's concentration.
The odds favored it, and for the first time it managed to tackle its prey, shredding at the Human's body with fervent rage. To its shock, the Alpha's claws glanced uselessly off of his Aura. He used the instant of hesitation to jab the beast in the nose with the pommel of Regalis, forcing the Grimm to let up the pressure it was applying to his body. The opening was just enough for him to wedge his foot between them, and he kicked out with all of his strength.
The Alpha was thrown several feet back, far enough for Silva to hop to his feet. He readied himself, that last stunt had dented his Aura more than he anticipated. He needed to wrap this up quickly.
"I guess he'll need to see it at some point," He reasoned, eyes darting around the clearing, noticing each and every place where the sun's light was interrupted. Plenty, by the looks of it. Only a few areas that he wouldn't be able to reform in.
He drew in a deep breath, letting the chilling sensation of his Semblance wash over him. His perception widened, suddenly he could see places where small specks of shade existed, all brightened and standing out in his vision. He moved, his ethereal form whisking from one shadow to the next. The cold intensified with every second.
He found the opening he desired. The Alpha had yet to make heads or tails of his sudden vanishing, staring at where he'd been with a mix of anger and curiosity. Luckily, the creature's shadow was behind it. He rose from the darkness, pearly blade sliding through the Alpha's throat before it could even realise its mistake. He flicked his wrist, and the beast's head fell to the earth.
Better than I expected. Still not enough.
He turned, glaring at the remaining dozen or so Beowolves. They had yet to move.
Then, all at once, they charged. The small thunder of footfall was enough to comepletely drown out all other sound, and for a moment he considered ceasing the use of his Semblance.
Nah, no fun.
And so he dispersed into shadow once more, briefly phasing into existence long enough to fatally wound each of the pack-members before sinking back into the shadows. A slit throat here, a bifurcation here, spinal disconnection there, and before long he and his partner were the only remaining things in the clearing. Black ooze dripped from Regalis' blade when he stepped out of the boy's shadow, tapping his shoulder to gain his attention.
"We need to move. More will come if we stay. Do you know where North is?" He questioned, and to his relief the boy nodded, jerking his thumb in the correct direction.
"Not a total dumbass, hotshot. I know my cardinal points." He spat, hoisting his weapon from the ground before securing it at his side. Obviously Silva knew the boy had an issue with Faunus. His muttering earlier proved as much. But that didn't matter, they had a mission and he wasn't going to let the kid's ignorance hinder him.
"So, seeing as we're partners, what is your name?" He asked, fully expecting the boy to either ignore him or spit in his face. To his surprise, he met his gaze, anger giving way to furstrated passiveness.
"Cardin. Winchester." He gritted out, before marching off in the direction of the temple.They walked in complete silence, Silva having taken up the rear, focusing more on keeping them from being caught off guard than navigating. Every few minutes or so however, when his partner's back was turned, he would scale a tree to ensure they hadn't gone off-track. Impressively, the Winchester's navigational skills were spot-on. Within half an hour they were coming up on a massive clearing, in the center of which stood what he could only assume to be the temple Ozpin spoke of. It was old, worn by time.
Well, that was much easier than expected.
He walked up to it, Cardin waiting by the edge of the temple with an impatient look in his eyes.
"Hey! Silva!" At first the voice was foreign to him, but once he looked over his shoulder he realised that Yang and Belladonna had caught up with he and his partner.
The blonde reached them first, coming to a stop near him.
"Nice to see you made it through alright, had you pegged as being pretty tough." She said, positivity leaking out of her in spades. He regarded her for a moment.
"I can handle myself, I suppose. I see you and your partner are doing well." He walked over to something that caught his eye. There several chess pieces around the temple, each resting upon a pedestal in a semicircle that spanned the entirety of the ruins. He reached for the one closest to him, a black rook, and turned it over in his hand.
Must be the 'relics' the Headmaster spoke of.
He pocketed the piece, zipping the pocket to ensure it didn't get misplaced. After that he walked back over to Cardin.
"I have the relic. Time for us to head back to the cliff." He passed his partner, and just as the two were about to leave, several things happened at once.
First, his eyes noticed an absolutely massive Nevermore flying overhead. Before he could actually react, he saw two figures literally falling from the sky. In that same moment, two more Initiates rounded the edge of the Forest to their right, sprinting full-tilt while screaming for other people to run as well.
What the fuck is happening!?
Then the one further behind, who he instantly recognized as the boy from the Bullhead, seemed to take notice of the falling figures, and began to run in the direction of the white-colored one. He barely made it in time, and managed to act as a buffer for the girl to land on.
Schnee.
The heiress didn't even speak to the kid, brushing off her skirt with an air of superiority that sparked anger within him. She and the boy joined the group, and he could hear their conversation clearly
"Guys! Death Stalker!" The boy shouted, worry evident in his eyes. Then Yang's eyes flicked up, and she noticed the Nevermore.
"Uh, guys, I think that's not all we've gotta worry about." She said, pointing at the massive bird. By now the other two, who he was surprised to see were Ruby and Nikos, had joined the group. He hadn't seen Ruby's landing, but she seemed no worse for wear. Within a few seconds they all retrieved a relic, and began to sprint towards a much larger ruin, one that was built upon a massive ravine.
He contemplated following. The group seemed to be of the 'run and live' mentality, intent on escaping with their relics without risking injury from the two enormous Grimm. He could respect that, it took a certain wisdom to understand when to cut your losses.
But, he never claimed to be wise.
He glanced at Cardin, who was quite literally frozen at the sight of such advanced Grimm, and snapped his fingers to get the boy's attention.
"Take the relic. I'm going to make sure those things can't corner them." He said, removing the rook from his pocket and tossing it at Winchester. His partner gave him a doubtful look, one not burdened by genuine concern.
"You don't seriously think you can kill both of them, do you?" He asked, incredulously. Silva scoffed, eyeing the Nevermore intently. "Now isn't the time for this. Go, and make sure you don't fuck it up." Cardin started to object, but the look in the Taro's eyes held so much conviction that he couldn't possibly bring himself to. He stuffed the thing in his jeans, giving the Faunus an eye-roll before sprinting in the direction of the Academy.
Now alone, Silva pumped Aura into his legs, and began to chase the two beasts with explosive strides. As he began to gain ground, he slipped into the treeline, smothering his emotions so that the Nevermore couldn't catch him off-guard. He lept into the canopy, bounding from branch to branch. Before long he was running parallel with the Death Stalker, staying just far enough behind to keep in the thing's blind spot.
Wait...
He focused on his hearing, taking extreme care to silence his footsteps as he ran.
Wait...
The screech of the Nevermore sounded once more, drilling into his ears sharply.
Now!
He bounced upward through the trees, funneling a sizable chunk of Aura into his legs just before the final branch. When his foot hit, he sank low, building power in his legs before launching from the canopy. The giant bird was flying somewhat low, barely close enough. He drew Regalis and raised his arm, leading his shot before firing his grapple.
The speeding anchor hit it dead in its eye. He released the trigger, the reel pulling him to the Nevermore.
He disengaged the anchor, sheer momentum throwing him into the side of the bird's neck. His blade was in place, braced in front of him. It sank into the Nevermore's flesh, slipping between its unimaginably durable feathers to deal a crippling blow. The creature rocked in the air, and Silva was barely able to maintain his grip. He channeled his Semblance, dissolving into the Nevermore's shadow just as it began to barrel roll. He waited a moment, and then reformed on the nape of its neck. He held on for dear life, nearly slipping as the enormous bird corrected its orientation.
He slipped a foot underneath the feather-armor, and torqued his leg up to peel back the layer of protection. Regalis settled into position, and he sliced into its spinal column with every ounce of strength he could muster. The ivory-colored blade cleaved into the Nevermore's spine, a two-handed grip giving him just enough strength to bite into its spinal cord. Instantly all of the beast's cognitive functions ceased, and it began to fall to the earth.
He ripped Regalis from the fatal wound, noticing the bird's current destination seemed to line up perfectly with the large ruin that Ruby and the others had made their last-stand.
Thankfully, they seemed to realize what was heading for them, the group scattering from the center of the ruin and breaking into two units to flank and attempt eliminate the Death Stalker. He waited, timing his bail until the last possible moment.
Just as the Nevermore's corpse began to dissolve, he fired his anchor into one of the support arches keeping the ruin suspended above the ravine. He used the seemingly bottomless underside to his advantage, swinging underneath the bridge and catapulting himself towards the Death Stalker.
He landed near the blonde from the Bullhead, who was picking himself up to rejoin the fray. The boy looked back at him, eyes widening as he seemed to connect the dots between Silva and the Nevermore.
"Can you still fight?" He asked, and Silva was taken aback by the level of calculated thinking in his eyes. He was already re-factoring him into their battle-strategy. He nodded, brandishing Regalis.
"What do you need me to do?" Silva asked, his gut telling him to trust the stranger's judgement. The young man thought for a couple seconds, eyes scattering as he filtered through different possibilities.
He reminds me of A-
"Right now all I need is for you to keep it occupied for thirty seconds. After that, try and give Pyrrha and Ruby an opening to finish it. Can you do that?"
"Don't ask stupid questions. Let's go." The boy nodded, and Silva instantly charged the Death Stalker, the rest of the group circling the beast to give him room.
Good.
The scorpion's stinger was its first strike, which Silva sidestepped while re-directing its aim by parrying with Regalis. It didn't give him a chance to counter, instantly withdrawing its primary weapon and lashing out with a series of blindingly fast pincer attacks. He was barely able to read each move, using his blade as the buffer he needed to react in time. The bone-armor of the Death Stalker was nearly flawless, but after clashing with it for a few seconds he was able to notice a small chink underneath its 'chin'. His instincts screamed for him to take the most efficient route, using his Semblance to get inside of its range and finishing the beast in a single strike.
But, he didn't.
Ten.
"Under its chin!" He shouted, knowing that they could, at the very least, take advantage of that.
This situation was completely under control, nine skilled fighters were more than enough to pin and kill a Death Stalker of this age. He had already removed the biggest issue, the Nevermore, from the equation, and so he saw no reason for stealing his fellow Initiates' thunder. He stuck to the blonde's plan, dodging and parrying the Death Stalker's unyielding and quickening assault. Not a single effort reached him; Reflex, skill, and instinct melding together as Regalis and the Grimm danced for superiority over one another.
But he was losing. Quickly. Death Stalkers were not a Grimm type that could simply be fought. Teamwork and strategy were key elements of bringing one down, even for fully realized Huntsmen. This was a younger Death Stalker, and so while it wasn't quite the war-machine it would someday become, Silva was becoming aware of the fact that people didn't duel Death Stalkers for a damn good reason.
It was faster than anything he'd ever fought, and by a vast margin. His sword arm's muscles were beginning to creak and spasm, every parry or deflection felt like he was redirecting the momentum of a speeding mountain. He knew this couldn't last, that he wouldn't last.
But he did not stop. Tendons and muscles burned away in the firestorm that was his defensive efforts, such intensity only fueled by his knowledge that this was the only guaranteed opening for them to finish it without anyone else being injured.
He had experience, he had skill that had been developed over an entire lifetime, and it was everything he had just to track this thing's moves.
These were trainees fresh out of Combat School.
Twenty.
His vision narrowed, mind putting all thought and emotion aside and prioritizing focus. Each deflection came faster than the last, before long he was pouring Aura into his arms in spades just to keep up.
Sidestep, parry, dodge, deflect, duck, dodge, parry, duck, sidestep, deflect...
Twenty-eight.
Now.
He suddenly halted, and the Death Stalker took advantage, all of its weapons converging on Silva with the intent to completely pulverize him.
You wish.
Aura gathered in his left hand and right foot, all of his remaining defensive capacity condensing into those limbs. He simultaneously caught each of them, pincers with his hand and foot, while Regalis caught the stinger mere inches from his face. His body structure nearly crumpled like wet paper in that single instant.
"Now!" He roared, already feeling his strength beginning to fail. His muscles were completely shot, his Aura on the verge of collapse, and his mind drained. Only sheer willpower kept him from submitting to the monster's unforgiving might.
Just thirty seconds of uninterrupted combat, and I'm barely conscious. Death Stalkers are more dangerous than they seem.
The sound of a high-caliber rifle firing barely registered beneath the sound of his own blood pumping, the ache of his tendons as they begged for release that he thought for an instant might never come.
Two flashes of red entered his vision, one slicing through the weak socket connecting its stinger to the rest of the tail. The appendage dropped, but something told Silva that he needed to hold on for a little longer. The second blur of red slipped underneath the Death Stalker's pincers, impossible momentum slamming into the creature's face as ichor sprayed in fountains from its new wounds.
He felt the mountain of pressure from its pincers slacken completely, and he almost managed to keep himself conscious long enough to make out his saviors.
Almost.
His Aura suddenly flickered out, face flopping onto the ground and ichor soaking the side of his head. His grip on Regalis was limp, just enough to tell him that it was still there.
His perception faded to black.
With Ozpin...
The Headmaster of Beacon had seen many things in his history. He had seen unimaginable evils, and nurtured great heroes.
Never, in his entire existence, had Ozpin witnessed something quite like this.
Granted, it wasn't nearly as grandiose as those things, but Initiation Day was meant to be a simple test of team efficiency, nothing more. For the context it was in, this was ludicrous.
An Initiate had just slain a Nevermore the size of two Bullheads, single-handedly, in two precise blows. Immediately after, he went on to duel a Death Stalker twenty times his size and did so to utter perfection. Not a single wasted movement, not an ounce of doubt or weakness for the entire thirty seconds he battled the Grimm.
Not even Qrow had done anything quite so absurd during his tenure at Beacon. Much less on his first day.
Up until now, the Branwen twins had been the single most impressive individual Huntsmen that he'd ever encountered. Both had mastered their skills in combat to insane degrees, keeping up with Maidens and Huntsmen-killer level Grimm alike.
But this?
This was a seventeen-year-old. Without a partner.
And then he did something that absolutely baffled the millenia-old Wizard.
He stopped, completely, and the Death Stalker attempted to crush the boy with all of its appendages at once. He then proceeded to literally catch both the pincers as well as the stinger. He held the pincers at bay with a hand and a foot, allowing his sword to lock its main offense in place.
He had deadlocked with a Death Stalker.
Thankfully sense returned to the world when Miss Rose and Miss Nikos intervened, using the intentional opening to dispatch the beast quickly. The moment he was able to breathe again, his Aura shattered and the boy dropped to the ground, utterly exhausted. Ozpin was momentarily relieved that the kid at least had the stamina for his age. But everything else spoke of experience, of genuine life-or-death combat.
He would have to speak with him the moment he recovered.
"Perhaps we've found a more suitable guardian, Glynda?" She scoffed, before reviewing the footage once more.
"Let's not be too optimistic just yet, Ozpin. Our enemies only draw nearer." He smiled, softly, but said nothing more.
It would seem that our fortunes may yet turn, possibly even to our benefit.
This boy would be important. It was imperative for him to gain his trust.
With Silva...
He hated hospitals.
Waking up in Beacon's infirmary had been... a jolt, to say the least.
Waking up to four people surrounding his bed? Nearly gave him a heart-attack. If he'd had Regalis, someone may have even died.
Then he noticed who exactly they were.
Ruby, who seemed upset, but broke into a smile when she noticed his wandering eyes.
Nikos, who was simply sitting there with a grateful expression on her face.
There was the blonde, the strategist that had granted them a sound victory over the Death Stalker. He was obviously tired, eyes drifting shut even as Silva began to sit up.
And, to his genuine surprise, Cardin. His partner, who he'd entrusted with their relic. The prick's eyes narrowed when he notice his partner beginning to stir.
"There, it's awake. I'm done here." He briskly stomped out of the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Silva didn't really care, if the bastard wanted to be a stuck-up little bitch about his partner being a Faunus, so be it. Though, the temptation to murder the imbecile was very strong.
The others gawked at the door, caught off-guard by Cardin's blatant disrespect.
"Ignore him. My partner isn't exactly pleased with my heritage." He spoke, causing the three to look back at him.
"Yeah, jerk. Wish he'd just be happy he passed at all." The blonde mumbled, his head resting on his palm. Silva was surprised the boy was awake enough to notice. Ruby rushed over to him, careful not to bump into his cot. He noticed a few rose petals trailing her, assuming it to be her Semblance. She was nearly bursting with excitement, vibrating in place with even more small rose petals falling from seemingly nowhere.
"HOW DID YOU DO THAAAT!?" She squealed, causing the sleep blonde to jerk awake again, eyes wide with temporary alertness. After about a second he seemed to catch on to what Ruby was referring to, a glint of curiosity blooming in his eyes as well. "I was... kinda wondering about that, too. I just asked you to keep it busy so Ruby could have a chance to reload, not fight it till you dropped!" The guilt and concern was evident.
"I know. I wanted to provide an opening that would ensure a killing blow. I needed it to be solely focused on me for that to be possible, or else it might have countered. If I'd done anything else it may have remembered the rest of you, and to be frank, things would have gotten more complicated than I wanted to bother with. I did what I had to do." His explanation obviously just confused the three even more, each of them looking at him like he was insane.
"We could have helped you! Do you even realise how much of a risk that was!?" The blonde was now fully alert, chastising him for being reckless. Silva chose to ignore it, none of them would have been able to handle that Death Stalker. He did what was necessary to ensure the safest victory possible.
"He's right, you know." Nikos spoke up for the first time, her voice somewhat subdued. "You're acting like you had to protect us. All of us trained hard to get into Beacon, we certainly aren't helpless. I get that you didn't want to take a chance, but you didn't have to push yourself so hard to do it. We all got accepted on our own merit," It was impossible not to notice the blonde tense up slightly at the mention of training and merit.
Secrets will only land you in a deeper pit, blondey.
"and I think you should at least give us a chance to prove it." She finished, and he took a couple of moments to think about her point.
"I respect that, and I didn't particularly mean to come across that way. I do understand that each of you has trained for years to get here, I just didn't want to give any room for mistakes. You saw how fast that Grimm got when it realised I was a threat, do you think that all of you would have been able to keep up? I doubt that. I apologize for undermining and underestimating your strengths, but I wasn't going to give it a chance to do anything but die."
Silence reigned for nearly a full minute, none of them sure of what to say. He took that as a chance to look himself over. Nothing seemed to have slipped past his Aura, but he could tell that his reserves were still somewhat low, enough for him to still feel the burn of his muscles. He'd pushed himself this far before, a few times, actually, and each instance had felt like he was soaking in a cauldron of molten steel.
He knew from experience, however, that this pain was fleeting. Within a day or two his Aura would recover enough for the damage to his muscular structure to heal over, and then he'd be back to normal. Pain was, at the very core, a mental reaction. One that could be ignored so long as Aura still coursed through his Soul. It was hard to remember that truth at times, it always felt so real, but the only real thing he was feeling right now was exhaustion. Obviously his muscles had indeed suffered real damage, but Aura would fix that soon, so it could be ignored.
What he could not ignore, was how heavy his body felt. How drained and sick of activity his mind had become. His eyes were barely strong enough to stay open.
He needed sleep.
Before any of them could speak further, Silva noticed that none other than the Headmaster himself was standing in the doorway, sipping his mug of... whatever it was, while giving them all a mischievously conniving smirk. The sound of the liquid sliding down Ozpin's throat caught the three's attention, all of them straightening up and giving the Professor their undivided attention.
"Good evening, students. I was informed, just now, by Mr. Winchester that his partner had woken up. I'm pleased to see I was not mislead." He took a few measured steps forward, entering the room and locking eyes with Silva.
"Are you feeling well, Mr. Taro? There is something I'd like to discuss, if you are feeling up to it."
Silva would have normally refused, he was tired, and ready to just sleep.
"It concerns the events of yesterday's Initiation."
God damn it.
"Fine." He nearly growled, and he could tell that Ozpin noticed, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Wonderful. Now," He looked at the three surrounding him, "may we have some privacy?" They nodded simultaneously, giving Silva a concerned look before shuffling out of the room in short order.
Ozpin's demeanor suddenly flipped. The instant those three left, his gaze sharpened as he pulled up a chair to sit in. His eyes bored into Silva with such intensity and urgency that the Taro nearly lost the will to maintain eye contact.
"I'll be quite blunt, Mr. Taro. What you did during Initiation was incredible, unheard of at the Academy, and that sort of talent is a very rare thing to find nowadays. I'm hear to ask a few questions, none of which you are obligated to answer, and to make an offer depending on the answers you give." The Headmaster took another brief sip from his mug.
"Are you comfortable with that, Mr. Taro?" He asked, causing Silva to simply nod. It was rediculous to him that a mere man could paralyze him so utterly, just his presence was enough to make him feel... small.
"Very well. To begin, I'd like to know where you recieved your training in swordsmanship? Again, do not feel pressured to share. It is your choice to answer, if you aren't comfortable then simply ask me to move on."
Immediately Silva felt like being defensive. Why would he want to know that? The look in Ozpin's eyes told him that there was a very important point to all of this, he almost even seemed desperate.
So, he chose to relax. Ozpin had no reason to use his past against him, his job was to raise future Huntsmen, not interrogate them.
"I've been training for as long as I can remember. My family started me off, but due to certain circumstances I had to pretty much teach myself after I turned eleven." He noticed the look in the Headmaster's eyes turn to one of curiosity.
"Fascinating. What about after you family left the equation? Don't feel the need to hold back, you've earned your place at this Academy. I will not judge you for the cards life dealt you."
His breath caught in his throat, and it was every speck of will he had not to flinch.
He knows.
This wasn't a trick. He knew Silva was connected to the White Fang, the coy look on his face made it painfully clear. What troubled him further was how genuine the last bit sounded. As though he was willing to completely accept Silva's truth.
And he believed it.
"Um... okay. I was taken in by the..." His words trailed off, flashes of blood and flames passing through his mind as he recalled the first meeting with his brother.
"Are you alright, Silva?" The use of his first name ripped him from his memories, causing him to refocus himself.
Focus on the present.
"My family was killed by the White Fang when I was ten. They took me in, fed me, raised me. In exchange, I fought for them. At first, I hated it. All I could think about was how much I missed my family." He paused, drawing in a soothing breath.
"But eventually I came to accept it. I couldn't change my past, so I focused on my duties in the Fang. I started to love them, and the cause we rallied under. It was noble, just. Then Ghira stepped down, and everything flipped. We weren't a movement anymore, we became a machine. We didn't fight for freedom, we fought for revenge." He seethed through gritted teeth. Pent-up anger and contempt he hadn't felt in weeks boiled up, burning just beneath the surface. He would never forgive that witch Sienna for what she turned them into. What she nearly turned him into.
"So I left. I abandoned a sinking ship." And it had been the most difficult, painful decision he'd ever make.
Ozpin remained silent, taking in his story and showing no surprise or anger in his eyes. He just... listened.
There was something about that, it just felt good for someone to not instantly proclaim him a monster, or a terrorist, or anything. The Professor just sat there, drinking from his glass and abosrbing his tale objectively.
Finally, after a few seconds of silence, Ozpin spoke. Silva could see the remorse, the empathy, behind those eyes. He was not judging him, he was not profiling him.
He cared.
"I must say, I'm sorry your life has been so harsh. It pains me to know the strife you must have endured, and I can't begin to express my gratitude for your honesty. As I said, however, I will not condemn you. Such a thing would be unfair and cruel, given how much you've sacrificed to be here." He then stood, pacing to Silva's bedside before stopping.
"I have but one more question for you, Mr. Taro, and I must ask that you forgive the vagueness of it."
He looked up at the Headmaster, nodding once more. How could he possibly refuse?
"Thank you. Now, tell me, Silva, do you believe in fairy tales?"
Hello again!
Now, before anyone flips their table, that was not Oz bringing Silva into the fold. The question has a different purpose here, one that will be explained later on.
So here's another larger than average chapter, covering Initiation and a part of Silva's backstory. Yes, there is much more. What he told Oz was the bare-bones version, with a lot of information and specifics left out.
Note that I purposefully didn't have Silva and Cardin meet their other teammates. They reached the ruin very quickly, and everyone scattered to deal with the Grimm before the other pair could arrive.
On that topic, I plan on doing quite a bit with Cardin. Normally he gets bashed in every story I've read, so I'm going to try and give him a fair shot.
Now, I think some people may be confused with how Silva did what he did. The only reason he killed the Nevermore so easily was because he didn't give it a chance to actually fight back. He went for the quickest possible kill and managed it before the Grimm could really stop him.
The Death Stalker fight is a bit mixed. He only fought it like that because he didn't trust the others to be capable of killing it. He's never actually seen any of them in action, so he took the route he knew would work. But, he is right in a few ways. He's been training for literally 3/4ths of his entire life, and that means a lot. He was not strong enough or fast enough to kill it without his Semblance, but he was fast enough to keep up for a while, and was experienced enough to not fight its strength head on until the very last second. And, as you read, he couldn't keep any of it up long enough to do anything aside from keep it occupied.
I think that's all for now.
Buh-Bye!!!