Salem's Servant: Chapter 3
Jaune awoke with a searing pain coursing through his face. Everything hurt, and his vision was nothing but one giant blur, blobs of orange, incomprehensible light flicking in his eyes. He kept them shut, hoping the dizziness would fade soon. It felt like someone had just punched his face really hard, or like a heavy brick had somehow fallen onto his face. The headache that was pounding his skull was nigh unbearable, and it made him want to bang his head against a wall to make it stop.
His throat vibrated a pained groan as he inwardly sighed. Don't tell me I fell off my bed again… He hoped he hadn't. It always frustrated him. Somehow, he would always find himself face flat on the floor of his bedroom with an aching face every time he woke up, no matter what he did to prevent it. Pillows blocking the edge of the bed, burrowing himself against the wall, and even putting up a large net to catch him when he fell. It was ridiculous, and with how the floor of his bedroom was seemingly designed to be the most uncomfortable surface in the land of Remnant, it costed him a few crooked noses and small bruises, which made it even more ridiculous.
Though there was something strange this time. As his senses slowly came back, he felt his face wasn't as squashed as he expected. He could even feel a bit of air brushing his cheeks. He did fall on his face, right? What's even odder was the cold and tight feeling around both of his wrists. It was too tight, and his hands were starting to feel a bit numb weak because of it It was like two metal hands were gripping onto his wrist, as if trying to choke the life out of them.
Jaune furrowed his eyebrows. He knew his younger sisters would often drag him from the floor whenever they found his fallen body, but they usually weren't this aggressive.
He tried to inhale some air, but he strangely couldn't. Something was blocking his nostrils. He knew it wasn't a cold – living in a humid town meant colds were as rare as Joanne finding an interest in dating. It was something else… like a pair of corks that had stuffed up his nose.
Why he or anyone else would do that, he didn't know.
Unless they wanted to murder him in his sleep, but then they would have to gag his mouth with something. But even then, most murderers would have thought to use a dagger, or drop some poison into his mouth or something. Blocking his nostrils was very ineffective, considering he was still alive.
This all but confused Jaune, and he decided to finally put in the effort to wake up from his slumber. He wasn't going to let these obviously suspicious circumstances float around his aching head as mysteries.
He slowly opened his eyes, wincing as a headache pounded around in his head. Headaches in the morning were always the worse, especially on a Monday. He blinked a few times as his eyes gradually came into focus. The blobs began to join and blend, warm orange dominating his vision.
A moment later, and his sight finally came back, though his waking only offered him more questions.
Legs spread out on a dusty, wooden floor, he seemed to be in a wine cellar, or a wine storage room of some kind. He wasn't exactly an expert on anything involving wine, but he did know that anything in a wine cellar or storage room was guaranteed to be quite old, like the wine itself. But here, everything was definitely way past what a normal person would call old. The barrels that would store the wine were riddled with mold and mildew. Some less so, but there were a few that were just riddled with the stuff. And even fewer were just simply destroyed beyond any sort of repair - nothing but piles of rotten, olden wood left in place.
The room itself wasn't doing any better. The brick walls were practically crumbling to dust, and some bricks were just outright missing from their places, either left to collect dust on the floor or gone to who knows where. There was a set of stairs just across from where he sat, which he guessed was the only way out. The wooden support beams that were sprawled throughout looked like they could give in and bring the whole place down in any moment. They were so in ruin and riddled with dust and mold, they could probably compete with Remnant itself for the trophy of 'Oldest Thing on Remnant'.
At least they were still strong enough to hold up a few lanterns here and there. He really didn't want to know what would happen if he had been left in the dark.
Ignoring the images of creepy crawlies trying to… crawl about in his head, Jaune cleared his heavily parched throat. It was like swallowing sandpaper - a sign of how long he had probably been in here.
I doubt any of these would have any wine. If they do, they're probably way past being drinkable… Wait, does wine actually expire?
He shook the question out of his still aching mind. There was no time to ponder on such needless things. He had other things to worry about…
Like trying to figure out why there was a pile of bloody bricks in the corner of the room…
I can't tell if that's actual blood or just ketchup… I lost count how many times I mistook ketchup for real blood. He thought, but then shrugged it off. Perhaps that was a mystery for another time. It wasn't like that pile of blood-stained bricks was important or anything.
Remembering the original mystery he was supposed to solve, Jaune brought his eyes down to his nose. It was hard to see anything past his red, weirdly swelling nose, but eventually, he managed to catch a glimpse of the edge of something brown. Sure enough, there were a pair of wine corks shoved up his nose, stained and soaked by what he assumed was his blood.
He was thankful he couldn't breathe through his nose. He would've likely gagged and threw up as soon as he took a whiff.
He continued to stare down at the corks in befuddlement. It was clear something must've definitely happened to him. Perhaps he actually got punched in the face or something. But he couldn't remember ever antagonizing someone in the past few days. He liked to keep his body from being beaten to near death, thank you very much.
Maybe he fell down a set of stairs? Sure, it was unlikely since he always held the railing whenever possible, but it was plausible. Or maybe he got hit in the face by something sturdy and heavy, something that could have caused massive damage to his face. Something that was painfully obvious and hinted at by something that wasn't really all that important to him.
Something like a brick.
Hmm… Jaune contemplated the thought thoroughly, taking his moment to think it through… and shrugged, Nah, that couldn't ever be possible. Getting hit in the face by a brick? That's as possible as me getting with a girl.
Well, either way, brick or no brick, the corks were scratching at his nostrils and it was quite uncomfortable. He moved his hand to remove the corks, only to feel a resistance stopping it and keeping it in place, accompanied by a jingle of metal.
"Huh?" He tried again, and when his hand didn't budge, he confusedly looked up to his hand.
Realization struck him like a slap when he saw a metal cuff tightly gripping his wrist, chaining it to the wall behind him. Same thing went for his other hand, which like the other, didn't budge from his attempts to move his hand free.
Okay, something's definitely happening here. Jaune thought. He continued to try and free his hands from the chains, pulling and tugging as hard as he could. When his efforts failed, he tried pushing himself up further onto the wall in order to stand, thinking it could provide him with more leverage to pull free. But as he pushed himself up with his foot, he was instantly hit with a searing pain in his ankle, yelling in pain before dropping back down to the floor. It felt like someone had just shot his ankle with an arrow.
Looking down, he noticed his foot was twisted in a weird angle, and he could see his skin swelling from the space between his boot. He must have sprained his ankle or something, how or why he couldn't recall.
The blonde winced as it hurt once more when he tried moving his foot again, and he stopped worrying he might make the injury worse. Yeah, this isn't going to work. He sighed, letting his arms limp to rest. His eyes drifted around, trying to find something nearby that could help him cut the chains lose. There were only a few broken pieces of wood from the barrels and a few small piles of rubble, all of which were totally useless in his predicament. He did see a small shard of glass though, but it was too far away to reach, not that he could actually use it to cut metal.
He continued to search for something help him break free, but after minute or so passed, he eventually heard a voice from outside the room. His eyes shot towards the stairs across from him.
"I'm telling you, the tea in that place is horrendous! It's like drinking warm, muddy water for heaven's sake!" The voice was a bit muffled, but he could tell it was a guy, one with a gentlemanly accent.
Then came another voice, "You only don't like the tea there because they put mint leaves on them." It was a much more quiet and lazy voice, like it was coming from someone who had had it with life and gave no damn anymore.
The argument went on and on, mostly talking about the quality of the tea of someplace.
Jaune ignored most of it. He wasn't quite a fan of tea; coffee was more his style. It keeps him awake, and with the right mix, it could be quite yummy.
He absentmindedly listened on as the voices gradually lost their muffling filter, and after a few more seconds, the faceless voices finally revealed themselves as they descended down the stairs, leaving the blonde quite surprised and confused.
He had expected a couple of men to enter the room, either wearing some thick, obscuring clothes that criminals would wear or long, ominous robes like the ones worshippers in an evil cult wore in a few books he had read.
But no, what he instead got was an owl that flapped its wings down the stairs, strangely carrying a snake in its talons. Its feathers were a very dark shade of black like a raven, though they did look soft and fluffy, not something you would typically expect from an animal in all black. It had large eyes as expected from an owl – a pair of bright amber orbs with a black pupils that could pierce through even the most pitch-black of darkness. And above one of its eyes was a single pink feather, which was nothing short of odd for an owl.
Jaune wasn't sure if owls with pink feathers existed.
Hell, he wasn't sure if the color pink even existed at all.
The snake in its talons looked just like any other normal snake, with its dark green scales and black beads for eyes. But along with those typical features, the snake seemed to be wearing a top hat and a monocle, like it was going to some fancy dinner party hosted by its fellow high-class friend. But despite how weird it was, it was rather cute, actually. The hat was so small, his pinky finger probably wouldn't fit even if he tried hard.
And when he thought things couldn't get even odder, they talked.
"Again, the tea there is preposterous! I have seen dirty, homeless men prepare much better tea than those buffoons!" The snake stated, owner of the gentlemanly voice.
The owl tiredly sighed as he stopped just beneath the stairs. "Again, the reason you hate the tea there is because they put mint leaves on them. That's literally the only thing that they added. And you told me yourself you haven't even tried it yet. You can't just hate something just because you haven't tried it yet."
"But its tea with leaves!" The snake said like it was the most disgusting thing on Remnant, "That's like putting hot cocoa on rice! It's unnatural!"
"The only thing that's unnatural is you calling break 'tea time.'"
The snake gasped dramatically. "Woah, hey! Now listen here, there's a perfectly good explanation and history behind why we call it 'tea time!' Centuries ago, there was a…"
The snake started droning on about the history of tea. Shaking its head exasperatedly, the owl brought its eyes up to Jaune and finally noticed his woken state. The black-feathered animal quickly cut his friend off, shaking him from his history lesson. "Hey, look. He's awake."
Jaune could see the snake pout for a moment before looking at him with those black, beady eyes. He couldn't help but shiver under their gaze.
"Hm, and so he has. I'm surprised he hadn't slipped into a coma." The snake said, its forked tongue flicking out for a moment afterwards.
"I'm surprised as well." Amber eyes looked down at the snake, "I believe it's your turn to tell her."
Looking up at the owl, the snake frowned. "I was hoping you would forget that."
"I don't easily forget things." The owl turned around and flying up the stairs, "Especially when it involves her."
The pair of animals traveled upwards and disappeared, leaving Jaune to stare at the stairs confusedly. The flaps of the owl continued to echo from beyond the walls until it slowly softened into nothing. He was now left in silence once more.
Now, he had seen and heard of some odd and peculiar stuff in his childhood. Like that time when he had stumbled upon of silhouette of a big creature while he had been hiking in a forest during early dusk – which he later found out to be just a pile of rocks stacked by someone who had a lot of free time. Or that one time he had found a strange, golden bug hidden inside one of his books, only for it to flee and fly out of the window, never to be seen again.
Or that one time when he had almost walked into his older sister's room one night to find her oddly scratching her inner thigh over and over again while having an asthma attack. Being a curious kid, he watched her for a while, but then got bored and went to sleep.
To this day, he still didn't know why that happened. He was pretty sure his sister wasn't asthmatic, or had any rashes at the time.
Those had been pretty odd by his standards. But an owl and a snake with completely clear human voices, talking to each other like they were long-time friends?
Either whatever happened to me made my mind go all crazy or I've just been insane my whole life.
Jaune continued to ponder on whether he needs to see a doctor after all of this for a few more minutes, resorting to counting the cracks on the walls after he found himself bored. He was just reaching eighty-nine cracks when he finally heard a set of dulled footsteps coming from outside. He waited with bated breath as the click-clack of the footsteps got louder and clearer, and stopped seemingly just at the top of the stairs.
"You two shall wait here. I will call you when you are needed." A woman's muffled voice ordered, soft and smooth like cotton but still having that commanding, fearful edge to it.
"Yes, mistress." The muffled voices of the two animals from before responded in unison.
There was a moment of silence before the footsteps resumed once more. Jaune stared at the stairs as a pair of pale legs slowly descended down the stairs, and he couldn't stop the anxiety inside him from pouring as much sweat as it could.
Eventually, the mysterious figure reached the end of the stairs, and it was then Jaune could only stare frozen. A tall woman stood from across the room, easily taller than him. Her skin was deathly pale all over, and there were strands of deep red and purple veins running up all over her two arms. Her eyes were nothing but a dark and menacing black, with irises as red as blood that could send blizzards down the spines of even the most bravest of people. Her silver white hair was pulled back into a bun, with offshoots protruding the sides of her head and ornaments suspending from them, and on the center of her forehead was single black, diamond-shaped marking.
Jaune stared with shaky eyes at the monstrous-looking woman. She looked like she had been pulled straight out of a horror novel, only ten times more terrifying now that it was reality. And the terror inside him only grew larger when those horrific eyes stared straight at him.
The woman smirked. "I see you have gotten my flyer. Jaune Arc, isn't it?"
"F-Flyer? What flyer? Wh-Who are you? And how do you know my name?" Jaune asked in a nasally voice, watching in growing anxiety as the woman slowly made her way towards him, her long, black robe dragging along the floor. She reached him and swiftly pulled the corks out of his nose. The stench of iron and copper quickly flooded his now unblocked nostrils as she tossed the bloody corks aside, gagging and coughing at the putrid scent.
. "Now now, Jaune. No need to rush your questions." The woman said in a smooth and calm voice, "Your name was stitched on that backpack of yours, which I assumed had been your name. And as for the flyer, you know the one."
"Uh… no, I don't." Jaune tried to remember what she was talking about, only to come up completely blank. He couldn't recall any sort of flyer.
The woman furrowed her dark eyebrows. "The flyer that you have gotten. The one that's color black all over? With the map pointing to this exact place?"
He shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Her black and red eyes narrowed at him, and Jaune couldn't stifle the whimper that followed. His heart was beating so fast, he thought it would jump at any moment now.
Thankfully, his unfortunate death was not drawing near just yet as the woman exasperatedly sighed. "How wonderful. I told them not to drop it on you so hard, but they don't listen. It looks there'll be no reward for them."
The blonde watched as a red luminescence surrounded one of her arms. She thrusted the glowing arm toward the direction of the pile of the bricks, and a single brick swiftly flew to her hand in the same red glow.
Jaune stared anxiouly at the brick in her hand. "W-What are you doing?"
The woman lowered down to her knee and gripped his shoulder. "Hold still." It all happened too quickly for him to react as she raised the brick and swung it down hard on his head. A loud thud sounded from the strike, and Jaune yelled out in pain, feeling nothing but blaring, searing pain from where she had struck. He continued to yell and wince in pain as his mind went fuzzy and his vision went blurry for a moment. It felt like multiple daggers had stabbed his brain all at once, only he was still alive and conscious to feel the pain. He felt drops of his own blood already trickling down his forehead.
After a few minutes of enduring an agonizing headache, his vision began clearing once more, and it was then everything came back into his mind once more. Like a floodgate opening and letting waves of ocean water refill the empty seas. He remembered now. Him living in old buildings, the hard-to-read flyer, the long and foot-torturing walk, the spooky manor fit for a murderer's hideout, the terrifying wolf monster…
The fake job offer… Jaune thought, his eyes widening, then fluttered when drops of blood began dropping down his eyelids. He looked up at the woman, who still held the now bloody brick in her hand. "Wait, you're…"
"I see you remember now." She said, tossing the brick back in the direction of the pile. "Well, now that we're on the same page. It's time we talk business."
She got up and patted the dust off her knees. "But first, let me introduce myself. My name is not Serene, unfortunately. I am Salem, an immortal witch."
As he heard those words, Jaune furrowed his bloodied eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. "Wait, you're a witch?"
Salem raised an eyebrow. "Well… yes. It's obvious, isn't it?" She gestured to her eyes and arms. "Why, is there something wrong?"
"Huh? Oh, n-no! There's nothing with… how you look. It's just that… I expected you to be more…" He scrutinized her face, "…old and wrinkly, like how other immortal witches look like."
Salem furrowed her eyebrows menacingly. "So you're saying that I should look old and wrinkly just because I'm an immortal witch?"
He immediately shook his head. "N-no! Not that. It's just… I'm just so used to seeing immortal witches being… you know, old and wrinkly that hearing that you're one, I was honestly surprised that you're… well, not old and wrinkly."
Jaune's pursed his lips, sweat and blood dripping down his temples as Salem glared at him. He couldn't help but fidget anxiously under her menacing gaze.
After a few seconds, she fortunately crossed her arms and looked off to the side. "Racist…"
Jaune tilted his head. "What?"
"Nothing, it doesn't matter." She said, uncrossing her arms, "Anyway, back to business." She put her arms behind her back and adopted a more formal manner, "As you may have figured out, almost everything said on that flyer was fake. There is no rich, high-class family, and there is certainly no one-thousand gold per week pay. Which is just absurd, mind you. No one in their right mind would ever pay a servant that much gold per week."
Jaune averted his gaze, frowning and flushing from embarrassment. He had been desperate for a good job, and incredibly hungry at that. Most people when they saw that flyer would have instantly recognized it as fake and ignore, but to a hungry and desperate Jaune, seeing it instantly threw all logic out of the window.
It had been like finding a treasure chest, only he didn't bother checking if it was real first and ended up with nothing but the bony, rotting remains of a fish instead.
But hearing her talk, he noticed one thing. "Wait, what do you mean 'almost everything'?"
She smirked. "That's where you come in. The pay and high-class family may be bogus, but the servant job isn't."
He furrowed his eyebrows as the gears turned in his head. "So wait, you mean…"
She nodded. "Yes, you are still going to be hired as my servant, just without the massive pay."
The blonde brought his head back, taking umbrage at her demand. Working as a servant to an immortal witch without any sort of pay whatsoever? She may be an immortal witch and he was basically under the tip of her blade, but there was no way he was going to work for her if he wasn't going to gain anything other than impending pain and possibly a horrible death – even if she was as scary as every nightmare combined.
Seriously, what did he look like to her? An idiot who would ignore basic logic and common sense and fall victim to an obvious scam?
He narrowed his eyes at her. "What if I said 'no'?"
Salem raised her eyebrow. "What if you said 'no'? Well…"
His eyes widened only for a split-second before his neck was swiftly pinned onto the wall behind by her hand. Her grip tightened dangerously, blocking his airways and making him gasp for his very life. Tears were already forming in the corner of his eyes as he felt her sharp nails digging into his skin and drawing blood, sucking the life out of him. His hands moved to claw at her hand, but his efforts were useless as they were still chained to the wall.
All the while, Salem kept a calm and unperturbed face. "If you said 'no', I would put you through the worst pain you have ever experienced in your worthless life. I would strap you to a chair and slowly cut off your fingers one by one, break every single one of your toes with a hammer, and slice off your tongue. Then, I would track down your family, capture them and make them watch as I cut open your stomach and pull your entrails out, before forcing them to feed on your flesh from bowls, kill them and feed them to my children." She smiled, "That is what would happen if you said no."
Jaune tried to pant as hard as he could as he stared at her evil, blood-red irises in terror. The way she had vividly described his possible outcome made his mind come up with imagery he could only endure for a few seconds before wanting to throw up. The gallons of blood, the gore, his family being forced to watch him slowly and painfully fade away from this earth…
And the smell… oh gods, the smell…
Already seeing black blobs forming in his peripheral, Jaune frantically nodded. "Okay! Okay! You had me – Ack! – convinced! I'll work for you! I'll – Gah! – I'll be your servant!"
Salem kept wringing her hand around his neck for a second, before finally letting him go. Jaune gasped once his neck was released, taking in as much air as he could. The black blobs in his vision slowly faded away, and he cringed at feeling the small drops of blood rolling down his neck from where her nails pierced his skin. It had felt like his neck was being chomped on by a wolf.
The witch wiped her bloody nails on his pants and smiled. "I'm glad we were able to come to an agreement, Mr. Arc. Now, it's time we establish some rules here."
She straightened up. "First and foremost, you will obey my orders no matter what, and in exactly how and when I want them. Whether it be to clean a small room with your tongue or to stab yourself in the leg with a wooden fork, you will do it exactly as told – no questions asked. Are we clear?"
Jaune frantically nodded.
"Good," Salem continued, "Second, you are not to leave the manor and go outside of the gate without my express permission. Unless it's to go to the market to buy ingredients and other knick-knacks – which in that case, know that I will be watching your every step, so don't even think of running away - I do not care what reason or excuse you give, you are not going through that gate. And believe me, I will know when you break this rule."
He nodded once again, silently unsated at that rule. She seemed pretty adamant on keeping him here, which makes running away from her as hard as balancing wood splinters on one another.
The witch continued on. "Third, you are not to touch any of my work unless told to. And I absolutely mean it. Fourth, you will only eat when I tell you to, and you will have prepare your meal for yourself. Fifth, you are not allowed in any areas I personally deem off-limits. And finally sixth, curfew is at eleven. Any questions?"
"Y-Yeah…" He said in a raspy voice, "W-Why do you need… a servant in the first place…?"
Salem raised a quizzical eyebrow. The blonde prepared himself for the worst, thinking he had asked an abhorrently stupid question or he had offended her somehow, but yet again he escaped death as she answered, "Why do I need a servant? Well, why else other than their intended purpose? As you can see, this manor isn't exactly in the best of states. And although I'm a witch, I'm still a woman and I much prefer cleaner workspaces than all this mold and dust. Plus, I often get too invested in my work that I forget to feed or bathe myself sometimes."
He pondered on her reasoning for a bit, and could only shrug in agreement. It did make a lot of sense. He wouldn't want to work in a messy place either, and his sisters always ordered him to clean their rooms, only for them to mess them up minutes later.
"Now, any more questions?" When he shook his head, Salem smiled and nodded in satisfaction. "Good. I'm pleased we were able to understand each other. I can already tell this will be a beautiful business relationship."
Yeah, beautiful… More like me getting my life nearly ripped out of me every day while I try to appease her so I don't get killed in a fit of disappointment and rage. And it's all without pay too!
He was quickly brought out of his thoughts when he noticed Salem dig a hand into her robe, pulling out a knife and small empty vial. His eyes widened at the implications of the items, and his mind went into panic mode at what the witch would do to him next. Oh gods, this is it! She's going to carve out my heart and drain the blood from it! I don't know why she would, since I'd be dead if she did, but it's still a cause for panic nonetheless!
Salem seemed to have noticed his inner panic, since she scoffed at him. "Relax, Mr. Arc. What I'm about to do isn't life-threatening in the slightest." She said as she nonchalantly waved the knife around, "All I need is…"
Jaune didn't have time to voice his protests as Salem brought the knife to his left wrist and sliced it from the side. He yelped when he felt the quick cut, wincing at the stinging pain that began rushing through his arm like a lightning strike. The witch popped the cork from the vial open and quickly brought it up to where the blood from the wound flowed down, filling the small vial halfway in only a matter of seconds.
Once she was satisfied with the amount, she brought the vial back and corked it closed once again. "…a vial of your fresh blood."
Blood continued to flow from practically everywhere on his body at this point as Salem wiped the blood off her knife on his pants and pocketed them back inside her robe (how she was able to keep a sharp, unsheathed knife inside her robe without cutting herself was a mystery to him). Once they were away, Salem then pulled out another vial, this time it was filled to the brim with a strange white fluid. It was thick like very creamy milk, and it seemed to be luminescent with how it glowed in her fingers.
Without saying a word, she popped open the vial and brought it up to his mouth. "Here, drink it."
Jaune stared down at the unknown fluid, his nose picking up a mixed scent of daisies and forest. It smelled really good, and the scent made his ever growing anxiety and fear wane a little bit. But even with the tranquil, natural and almost addicting aroma, there was no way on Remnant he was going to drink an unknown, glowing drink being given by the same woman who had almost killed naught half a minute ago.
He may be a bit dumb and gullible, but he's not that dumb and gullible.
So when she brought the drink up to his lips, he pursed them and shook his head. "I-I don't want to…"
Salem's eyebrows furrowed, and he could see her irises starting to glow. "What?"
The fear made it hard to get the words out of his mouth. "I-I don't want to drink it…"
Her eyes half-lidded in what he could only assumed was growing frustration. "Mr. Arc, I have wasted the last of my aurashrooms and nearly burned a finger off. Drink it, or else…"
The glow of her blood red irises only continued to bloom as he stayed quiet, keeping his lips shut. When it was clear he wasn't going to obey, she sighed and sent a hard punch towards his chest. Saliva and blood sprayed out of his mouth as he doubled over from the strike. He didn't have time to even cough as Salem quickly grabbed hold of chin with one hand, forcing his mouth open as she dumped the entire vial into his mouth.
Jaune could do nothing but gulp the strange liquid down, coughing and gagging from how fast it was going down his throat. Once it was empty, she shut his mouth back up and kept it close lest he decided to spit the liquid out. The blonde was given no choice but to simply comply with her demands and swallow the rest of thick, undoubtedly harmful liquid and wait for something bad to happen to him…
…Which never came at all. Instead of transforming into some hideous monster or growing a third leg atop his head like his mind suggested, he instead felt invigorated. Like a massive weight on his shoulder had suddenly been lifted and he could finally breathe easily. The strange liquid tasted a lot like strawberries, and as soon as it descended down his insides, he could already feel every single pain on his battered body slowly fade away. The headache caused by the brick on the head and whatever happened before he woke up was all but a memory, the punctures on his neck were slowly closing up and the blood finally stopped streaming as the cut on his wrist healed and left nothing but a scar. His broken ankle was also repairing itself as he felt the socket returning back to its rightful place and the swelling bump slowly shrink, bringing the searing pain along with it.
After everything healed, Jaune couldn't help but feel joyous, uplifted. He didn't know if it was the white fluid or not, but nevertheless, his spirits were all the way up to the heavens. He felt like he could take on anything, like climbing the highest mountain on Remnant and back down in one day, or battling a giant bear with his bare hands and win. He felt like he was invincible!
…But sadly, the feeling went as quick as it came as he was brought back from his power-high down to the Underworld-on-Remnant that was Salem the Witch.
After blinking back into his harsh reality, said witch corked the now empty vial and pocketed it. "Now that wasn't so bad now, was it?"
"You could have told me it wasn't dangerous. I probably wouldn't have struggled." He said with a slight frown.
"Oh trust me, you would have even if I said it granted you god-like powers."
He bashfully averted her gaze, realizing what she said was more than likely true, and that he now wished that stuff actually granted him god-like powers.
Salem stood up and dusted her robe, making Jaune hack and cough from how much dirt had accumulated from just kneeling on one knee. This floor really needed some sweeping.
"Well, with introductions out of the way... Ren! Thomas!" She turned and shouted in the direction of the stairs, clapping her hands.
A few seconds later and the same owl and snake from earlier flew down and stopped a few feet from their mistress. "Yes, your grace?" The snake asked.
The witch quickly pulled out a rusty key from her pocket (just how much space did she have?) and tossed it towards the hovering pair. The snake reacted and swiftly caught within its mouth.
She threw her thumb at Jaune. "Take him to his accommodations, make sure he gets settled in and gets a good night's rest for tomorrow. As for your reward, I'll be holding onto it for a while until you two idiots learn how to properly drop a heavy brick on someone's head without giving them memory loss."
The two were visibly saddened in hearing their rewards being forfeited, but didn't protest and gloomily hung their heads. "Yes, mistress." They sighed, the snake's words muffled from the key in its maw.
With that, Salem began strutting towards the stairs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a business contract to sign."
Silence filled the room as the witch climbed up the stairs and her footsteps gradually faded away. Once she was well away from the room, the snake glared up at its partner. "See? I told you to fly a little lower, you moron!"
The owl sighed. "You know what, I'm not even going to bother. Let's just get him to his room and call it a night."
"'Call it a night,' says the owl." The snake rolled its eyes as its partner ignored its rather speciesist jab and flew closer to Jaune's wrist.
The blonde watched with a wordless mouth as the snake unlocked one wrist with an echoing click, followed by the loud jingles of chains hitting a brick wall, then did the same for the other. His arms flopped to the ground, slightly aching from being suspended up for so long as he rubbed his calloused and seared wrists.
"Th-thanks…" He managed to mutter out, still staring at the two animals with bewildered eyes.
"You're welcome." The snake replied, placing the rusty key somewhere into the owl's thick feathers.
"Now come on," The owl then themselves around and headed for the stairs, "The sooner you can rest, the sooner you can wake up for tomorrow. Salem wouldn't like you being late."
Jaune turned another corner and continued following the two oddly talking animals, who were supposedly leading him to his room. The fact that he was even given an actual room here at the manor despite practically becoming a slave still astounded him. He had expected he would need to sleep somewhere far less comfortable, like in a derelict shed outside or back in that wine cellar/storage room, where any semblance of a bed he had was a cold, hard and dusty wooden floor. Salem seemed like the type of person to do that.
I guess I should be thankful I'm not that much of a slave.
Passing by the still cluttered parlor (which he was sure he needed to clean up sooner or later), he continued to follow the two animals down another corridor. The other two were still conversing, now seemingly chatting about which unnamed bakery had the best pastries – the snake was really adamant its choice of bakeries were highly superior than the owl's.
All the while, Jaune couldn't help but stare at the two, both awed and utterly confused. They were talking. Two species that were created to not be able to recreate human speech and instead make noises that fathers used in their lame jokes were having a normal, comprehensible conversation, like two friends talking about which lancer was better, except it was about pastries this time.
That brick must have did more than just quell his memory loss.
The snake must have noticed his befuddled staring, for it stopped their argument and brought its head to look at him. "What are you staring at?"
His eyes widened. "Um, uh… n-nothing, nothing…"
"You're surprised we can talk, I'm guessing." The owl said, turning its neck all the way back to look at him while still flying.
Undoubtedly creepy as it was, the blonde tried to not let the action unsettle him. "Um… y-yeah. Not a lot of animals… um, talk where I come from."
The snake chuckled. "Oh, you'd be even more surprised by the others. A lot of things here that don't normally talk can talk perfectly well. Mice, cauldrons, gargoyles, giant tentacle monster that's been hiding under a rug for gods know how long… almost anything you can imagine, really. Witch magic is quite amazing if you ignore all the evil behind it."
"Um, okay…?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait, giant tentacle monst-"
The blonde was cut off with a dramatic gasp. "Wait, wait, what am I doing? I forgot to introduce myself!" The snake shook its head. "Geez, staying here has really diminished my manners. Anyway, my name is Thomas Guardel Port the Third, hailing all the way from the hot and sandy dunes of Vacuo! Former adventurer and tea enthusiast!"
"I'm Lie Ren." The owl said, reaching a wing out to the blonde, "But the others just call me Ren. Call me that if you will."
Jaune stared at the wing for a moment in puzzlement, wondering how Ren was able to fly with only one wing. He allayed the mystery out of his mind a moment later and instead shook the owl's hand.
"I'm Jaune Arc the… First, I think?"
He ended the handshake and uncomfortably watched as Ren turned his head back around.
Tom then bowed at him. "Well, it's pleasant to meet you, Jaune. What is that short for, Jaunathan? Jaunemiah? Jaunillius?"
"Uh… I think it's just Jaune."
Thomas brought his head back incredulously. "Wait, that's it? Just 'Jaune'? Huh, I had expected a young chap like you to have a way cooler name."
His lips twitched down at that. He had thought Jaune was a cool name. It was short, sweet, and rolled off the tongue. Girls practically swooned at hearing his name.
Well, at least that was what his mom told him when he was a kid.
Ren shook his head. "Don't listen to him, Jaune. Tom here just likes to run his mouth whenever possible."
"I do not!" Thomas protested. "I just have a lot of things to say in my mind, and often times, it gets too full and the words just burst out of my mouth."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Tom." Amber eyes then shifted to the blonde, "Anyway, where are you from? How'd you end up here?"
"I, uh…" Jaune hesitated. His mind went all the way back to when he was homeless in Vale, where all he had done was make mistakes that just toughened his life even further. Trying to get into Beacon, ultimately failing and then falling for a blatantly obvious trap that even a baby with birth problems could distinguish. It was both moronic and embarrassing, and he feared anyone getting wind of his laughable series of events would make them see him as nothing but a fool.
But I guess it can't hurt to tell these two. Jaune thought, They seem to be stuck in here with me too. Surely they wouldn't demean me for that.
The two continued to stare at him in waiting. Eventually, Jaune relented and sighed. "Well… I came from a town called Ansel. But then I… um… moved away and decided to travel Vale to apply to Beacon as a knight. It was sort of a lifelong dream of mine – a dream that was instantly crushed when I realized I was nowhere near fit to be a knight, and I got a rejection letter not even a day after I submitted my transcripts. After that, I didn't want to go back home as a failure, so I decided to stay in the city, hoping to make ends meet there. Of course, I couldn't find a job that could support me and I was left homeless. But then I found the flyer on Vale's job board and I took it without looking too much into it. And now I'm here, stuck being a servant for an immortal witch."
Jaune hung his head low in gloom, trying to stop all the self-deprecating thoughts from getting to him. It was quite hard to get that all out, and he almost wanted to tear up in the middle of his exposition. Gods, he was such an idiot. There was no doubting he was the biggest moron on Remnant right now. If he had just trained instead of wasting his childhood away dreaming, none of this would have ever happened. He would have gone to Vale and gotten that acceptance letter into Beacon. He would have trained even further to become the greatest of knights, meet new friends, gone to new places, protect people, and probably even find a—
The blonde's thoughts were instantly halted when Thomas snorted. He brought his eyes up to look at the snake, and he must have had something funny on his face for the snake instantly burst in full blown laughter.
"Hahaha!" The snake laughed, "My gods, you must have been dropped on your head as a baby, because wow! Hahaha!"
Jaune frown's deepened as the snake went into a massive laughing fit.
"Tom!" The owl chided his friend.
"Hahaha! On- Hoo! Only a gullible idiot would fall for such obvious bait! Haha– OW!"
Ren's talons squeezed tightly upon the snake's long body. "Tom, you better shut up or I'll toss you into Salem's room and lock you in there for the rest of the night."
"Ow, ow! Okay! Okay, sorry! Ow!" The snake pleaded, and Ren loosened his death grip, though there was still a visible tightness in his grasp.
Tom panted. "Ow… geez, it's only normal that I laugh at someone else's idiocy. Ah…"
Ren shook his head. "See? Running his mouth." The owl noticed the blonde's gloom, and then said, "Look, Jaune. There's no need to get all down about what you did. You were homeless, desperate and out of luck, so naturally you would take any opportunity to get out of rock-bottom without looking far into the details. As they say, desperate times call for desperate measures… though I think that applies more to going into crime more than throwing logic out of the window. But I digress.
"Look, my point is that you shouldn't feel bad for being desperate. I know I would've ignored all warning signs if I were in your position."
Jaune stared at the owl as he continued to fly and lead him away. His words had pulled him from his bummer somewhat, though he was still a bit mad at himself for falling into a trap. At least he wasn't sad and mad enough to want to punch himself until his face was just a pile of fleshy mush.
He could tell Ren had some experience with bringing people from their gloom before.
"Thanks, Ren. For cheering me up… I think." He said. The owl didn't turn his head (thankfully), but did nod and acknowledged his gratitude. The blonde continued. "So, where are you two from? How'd you two end up working for Salem?"
"Well, like I said, I used to be quite the adventurer." Thomas boasted, "Travelling the lands of Remnant in search of treasure and action, conquering foes and slaying evil everywhere I go, and, of course, getting all the women I could possibly want in my arms."
"You were just a cartographer, Tom…" Ren said, but his words simply fell on deaf ears.
The former adventurer continued, "Then when I traveled to Vale, I stumbled into this manor here. Thought I could check it out and explore, perhaps even slay a few ghouls that possibly roamed around here. But when I ventured too deep into the manor, I got spotted and chased by Tenebris, Salem's gooey wolf monster pet that chased you around a while ago, until I eventually got captured." Tom sighed, "Then the witch turned me into a snake and kept me here as punishment for trespassing."
"My fate was similar to his." Ren started, "I was travelling with someone to the city. We needed a place to stay but every inn we went to was too expensive for our budget. Then we stumbled upon this manor. At first we thought it was completely abandoned, so we decided to set up camp here. I guess we thought wrong. As a result, she turned both of us into animals, just like Tom here."
Jaune stared at the owl's back. There was a bit of relief that waved through him. They had suffered a fate similar to his. Tom… not so much, but Ren's he could relate to. They had both thought this place was another – a grand manor owned by a rich family who had a knack for broken and abandoned-looking things to Jaune, and an empty, jilted home where he and this yet to be named travelling partner could rest for a night to Ren – before they both unfortunately found out it was anything but what they had imagined.
And now they were both stuck here for who knows how long, forced to serve a powerful, immortal witch who could kill them with a snap of her fingers.
He didn't know if he should be happy he wasn't alone or not.
The trio continued traversing down a number of halls for a few minutes. With their introductions done and out of the way, Ren and Tom continued on with their argument from before, which now consisted of them simply shouting which type of tea they think was best. The blonde tuned out their discussion, too busy looking around and trying to map out the place. If he was going to stay here and be forced to work as a servant, then he might as well be familiar with the manor. If what Ren said was true, then he didn't want to be late just because he got lost. He was already in hot water with the witch, his hand unconsciously feeling the absent tight feeling around his neck.
"We're here." Jaune brought his eyes back to the owl, who had stopped flying and hovered beside a door. It was more abandoned-looking than every other door he had seen. The knob was rusted and crooked, and he doubted it had any use other than to make the door look more like a door. The wooden surface was chipped away and covered in scratch marks, all of which he was certain was the work of that wolf monster thing…
He shuddered. Yup. Definitely getting nightmares.
Ren beckoned him to enter. Jaune gripped the door knob and twisted it. However, the wood surrounding the knob instantly snapped from its place the moment he turned it, small splinters falling to the floor. The three stared at the broken door knob in his hand as he brought it up, Jaune's eyebrow lifted as he eyed it.
"Um... just… leave it on the floor." Ren said, before he went and pushed the even more broken door open.
The blonde nodded and did what he suggested, then followed the owl inside. Jaune glanced about the room, taking the appearance in. It was as bad as he had imagined it to be. The claustrophobic room's once wallpapered walls were all but scratched up and in a horrible state. The floor was so too, and he could see some of the black goo that had oozed from shark-like mouth of his impending nightmares staining the wood. A single bed was pushed into a corner, so filthy and dirty that even a homeless man wouldn't think of sleeping on it, with a nightstand where a single lit candle stood. There was a shattered up window at the foot end of the bed that showed the nightly darkness outside, and there was an equally broken dresser just below that, his familiar backpack laying limp on the floor beside it.
"This used to be Tenebris' playroom, which I guess explains all the scratches and the goo." Tom stated, looking about the room with the blonde before settling his eyes on him. "It may not look like much, but this the best you're going to get. Unless you prefer sleeping in a room with a gagging smell and a mold problem."
Jaune sighed, deflated. He rubbed the back of his neck as he continued to look about the room. "Well… I guess it's not that bad."
It's certainly better than nothing.
Ren flew over to the dresser. "There's a servant's uniform in here that Salem wants you to wear tomorrow during your first work, shoes are under the dresser. You can also place some of your own clothes in here if you want."
He walked over to said dresser and opened the top drawer. Inside was indeed a folded up uniform – a white dress shirt with a black vest, along with a black bow tie neatly placed on top. It wasn't as clean as he thought it would, however. Spots of unknown substances stained the otherwise pearly white shirt, and there were a few visible holes on the vest he could see. Even a corner of the bow tie was cleanly nipped off.
"We tried to clean it up as best as we could." Ren said, looking down at the uniform, "But it's quite hard to with these talons. They kept cutting up the uniform."
"And I don't even have any limbs." Tom added.
The blonde sighed, his fingers feeling the dusty cloth of the dress shirt. This was the uniform that he was going to be wearing for a majority of his time here in the manor – as a servant. A ratty, stained servant's uniform that reminded him of his unfortunate predicament. His unfortunate predicament that he himself had placed upon himself, and in which he only had himself to blame.
He was going to be stuck here for a long time, isn't he?
"Hey, Jaune?" Tom's voice brought him back to reality, and he lifted his eyes up at the snake, humming quizzically in asking. The snake said, "You've been looking at that uniform for almost a minute now. I'd have thought you suffered from a freezing spell or something."
"Oh, um…" Jaune coughed into his fist, his red flushing in embarrassment as he closed the drawer. "I'm just… tired. Running around for my very life took quite a toll on me." He lied, not wanting to tell them of his melancholy concerning his problem.
"Then you better get some sleep then." Ren said, "You don't want to nod off during your first work, especially under Salem's eyes."
Jaune nodded and let out a yawn. He may have lied about his reasoning, but he sure wasn't lying about his fatigue. All that running away he did earlier and his confrontation with Salem actually took quite a toll on him, and he could feel himself already falling straight to the floor any moment now.
Ren started making his way toward the door, ever so towing along Tom in his talons.
"Well, we'll be on our way now." The snake said, lifting his tail end up to tip his top hat at him, "Here's hoping Salem doesn't kill you on your first day."
The two flew out of the room as the snake pulled the door closed with his best efforts, which utterly failed and only managed to make the bounce back and creak back ajar. Jaune listened to the flaps of Ren's wings slowly dull down the corridor until it was no more. Once he was left in silence once again, he sighed and groggily made his way and dropped onto the bed. It creaked dangerously under his weight, but he could care less in his tired state.
Well, I'm a servant now. Though not the kind of servant I was hoping for. Jaune gloomily thought as he stared at the shabby ceiling. I wonder if my family is looking for me…
Faces of his parent and sisters flashed in his mind as he pondered on the thought. Surely they would be looking for him after being gone so long, right? His family may have been derisive regarding his dreams of becoming a knight, but they couldn't just let their only son and brother go missing, right?
He was certain his dad and his sisters were out there looking all over Vale for him now.
They would, wouldn't they?
He shook his head. Oh, who was he kidding? He snuck out without telling them and he had been in Vale for more than a week. They surely would have found him by then if they actually went to look for him. No doubt he would be grounded in his room this moment if they had actually found him.
The realization made him frown. No one was coming for him, not even his own family. No one else knew where he was, and if there was someone who did and attempted to rescue him, he was sure they wouldn't even get within twenty feet of Salem before they suffered a horrible fate.
"I guess this is my life now…" He muttered as his eyes slowly closed, "No one's coming to save me, and there's an immortal witch between me and freedom…"
He grabbed the pillow from the head of the bed and dropped his head on it, rolling onto his side as sleep slowly took over.
"If only I had put in the effort…"