Author Note: Hello again! Here it is, the seventh chapter of A Dark Soul & A Painter Within Remnant! I hope you enjoy! Plus, criticism and reviews are welcome!
Also:
Guestman: "Remove thine hand." (I... uh... don't know what you mean there...) Glad you're looking forward to this story! :D
Simple405: Indeed! A promise for Saturday! I intend to hopefully keep these true to their word! Enjoy pal ;)
"How very quaint, pitying creatures that are beyond help." - A certain black-armored knight.
General James Ironwood was massively concerned about the two individuals that arrived with Jade, the only remaining survivor of her village. When the databases came to place, the lizard faunus child and this Dajorn never showed up at all in any of them. It is as if they popped out of thin air. The only possible scenario is these two possibly working with the hidden enemy that's hiding in Vale, he'll hopefully get answers through questioning the elderly man. Should he not speak, then Ironwood will have to use force. And he wasn't keen on using it, but to get results, it had to be done.
Hours prior to the visit of Saint Mercy Hospital.
"Ozpin, don't you at least think it's a little suspicious about those two? You can't just overlook a possibility that they're in cahoots with the enemy."
The professor of Beacon academy simply sipped his coffee as he looked outwards to the city of Vale from atop of Beacon tower.
"I would look at this possibility, James. But when I have an entire fleet of Atlas troops at my doorstep, I have reason to believe otherwise. I'm looking at it in a different angle, one that doesn't antagonize someone so fast."
"And what angle is that?" Ironwood asked, annoyed by Ozpin's antics of looking at things casually.
"Let's assume that they are nomads, or people living off the grid. It's not commonplace to see around Vale, but it is a scenario I'd like to look at."
The General scoffed, "And what about the two people that were murdered when the attack was taking place? The Sheriff and Mr. Hershel were both found dead, one poisoned by an unidentified agent and the other is also a great question."
Ozpin sighed, "And what can be said about it? I've read the reports, James. There's no need to reiterate them to me." He turned around to face his old friend, "The strange way that Mr. Hershel died is what concerns me the most." Ozpin sat down in his desk chair and rested his chin onto his hands. "All that could be discovered was a small cut from a sword, but that isn't what killed him, it's as if he died by something else entirely." Ozpin took another drink, pulling up his holographic screen, showcasing Hershel's dead body. "See how his back is bruised? And," he pulled up another photo, this one revealing where the body was found, "The ground is slightly indented."
"Where are you going with this, Ozpin?" Ironwood analyzed the photos.
The Headmaster paused for a few seconds to sip another drink of his coffee and zoomed in on the sword wound. "What I am saying is that it wasn't this or the fall, rather an unknown we have not uncovered yet. Plus, the only report coming from Mr. Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie included an encounter with a second man battling against this," He paused to properly look at the name of the individual, "Dajorn after they eliminated a great deal of Grimm."
"And I intend to find out why Dajorn was fighting this second individual and ask him who started the fires. He may seem like a nomad, Ozpin, but that could be a coverup." Ironwood proceeded to walk towards the elevator.
"Please, don't do anything rash now, James."
The General scoffed once more, "I will do what is necessary, Ozpin." he entered the door and put his arms behind his back. The door closed and the Headmaster sighed with stress prevalent in his voice.
"Miss….." A blurry image of someone in a pristine white coat and bright lights came into view. The beeping noise of a heart monitor was heard, some footsteps and a rolling chair scraping against the white floor were also in the vicinity.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Are…..uo…..o...ay?" The voice said, "Do…..ou…..eed…..thing?" It asked, but Jade couldn't discern anything it said.
Soon, flashes of that hooded man popped into her head.
The way he turned into smoke and appeared behind them so quickly, it wasn't right. The other faunus, Cooper tried to strike at the man, but he swatted the machete out of his hand and viciously thrust that barbed dagger straight into his gut, if only he stopped there, but he didn't. That assassin pushed him downward, digging that dagger ruthlessly more into his stomach.
It shouldn't have ended like that….
"How is the patient doing?" The nurse asked, holding a tray of food, the doctor shook his head, "She's somewhat awake now, but I doubt she can hear us clearly." His slim figure slid the rolling chair he was from to a computer, which he typed in quick succession.
"What's more confusing is her aura isn't functioning anymore. If this keeps up, she may be losing it permanently."
. .
The two looked at the heart monitor to notice it's increasing at an alarming rate, Jade started to hyperventilate.
"She's panicking! Quick, get a sedation now!" The doctor ordered, trying to calm the wolf faunus down while the nurse looked for a needle to sedate the patient.
"Where is it? The Dark Soul." The assassin asked again, his figure slowly enveloping the doctor, who was doing his best of reassuring her it will be okay.
To Jade, she was in full panic, seeing that monster again.
"Tell me where it is, and your death will be less painful." He asked again. She didn't reply to him, "Then you are of no use to me alive." The murdered aimed his dagger at her and she closed those tear-filled eyes.
In reality, the nurse was administrating a sedative, which calmed the poor girl down. Whatever caused such trauma to her, it's probably not something anyone at her age should ever witness.
"Where are we going?" Dajorn asked once more, the General replied the same answer, "As I said when we get there, you will know."
"May I have a talk with my daughter before we leave?" The old man checked behind him to see Priscilla sitting in a chair, swinging her legs while staring about the area.
General Ironwood sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Make it quick."
Dajorn thanked the General. He briskly walked to Priscilla, who smiled upon seeing him again, "Back again so soon?" She noticed the distress on her companion's face, "Doth something trouble thee, Dajorn?"
He sat next to her and spoke in a whisper, "When I leave with those men, you will stay with Jade, I fear she is the only one who can attribute to our story and make it more sensible to these people."
Her smile faded and she agreed, "Be safe." She said as Dajorn walked back to General Ironwood. Professor Peach spoke, "Well, I'll leave you four two it. I'll make a visit to Doctor Pearson, see what could be said about the toxic agent found in the Sheriff's body."
"You do that, we'll take our time," Ironwood said with a stern face as always.
Team JNPR had been on edge ever since the village incident. They all shared the same thoughts, why did it happen? Did those two men cause it, Dajorn and the hooded man?
"Jaune," Pyrrha placed her hand onto his back, "we did all we could, but…."
"You don't get it, we were too late…." Jaune replied, "All those people…." Scenes of mutilated corpses and Grimm ravishing any living being were seen in his imagination.
"Pyrrha's right, Jaune. There was nothing else we could've done." Ren added. He too is mind-boggled by a quick turn of events from shadowing a sheriff to a whole village burned to the ground and Grimm infesting its area now.
Ren continued, "We're going to go visit those three that survived, do you wanna come?"
"You guys go on ahead, I'll join you in a bit, I just need some time alone, if that's okay," Jaune responded, his voice filled with depression.
"Sure, we'll be at the Saint Mercy's hospital, it's not too far from the city square." Ren said, "C'mon Nora, and Pyrrha?" He saw Pyrrha hesitating to leave Jaune alone, but she slowly joined them.
"Coming, and Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, in which he lifted up his head, "It'll be alright, I'm sure those who are missing will be fine."
"I hope so too, see you guys there."
While being escorted to another one of the flying metal carriages, albeit this one looked far more elegant and battle-ready than the previous one, Dajorn got a better look at this amazing city of life and beauty. Everything had a dash of bright color to it, the likes of which he'd never seen before, and for every grandeur city he's been to, they've always been fallen and ruined beyond repair. What caught his attention more was a familiar object in an antique store that they passed by, something that he hadn't seen since the age of Lordran. He'll come back to it when the time comes.
"After all this, I never got your name, sir-"
"General James Ironwood, headmaster of Atlas Academy and soon to be Head of Security for this year's Vytal Festival."
Staring up into the sky, Dajorn could surmise that those vessels in the air and these soldiers are no doubt Ironwood's.
"Moreover, the only knowledge of you, a complete unknown was in the proximity while battling someone within the burning village. Care to tell me why that is?" The grip of the two guards handling his shoulders tightened.
"I don't know who it was." Ironwood's eyes narrowed, "He attacked the village out of hateful spite or anger. I simply did what was needed to, defeat the man who raised enough commotion to attract those beasts."
"We'll see if that changes once we get back onto my ship," They all stopped when a fancy, well-guarded car parked near the street. "Escort him to the bull-head and take him to the 'talking' area on the ship." Ironwood put great emphasis on the 'talking area,' "I'm going to contact Ms. Schnee about making arrangements here."
"Understood, General Ironwood sir!" They both said simultaneously whilst saluting him.
He opened the door and took the seat in the middle, opening up his scroll and Winter's face appeared on it, however, that was all that could be seen before the car drove away.
"Come along, old timer, we ain't got all day for you to mope around and look astonished." The red guard told Dajorn, "The sooner we get you to the General's ship, the sooner I and this guy get to check out this club, so get a move on it!"
Dajorn had other plans than to comply with these men, he just needed a distraction.
A large rumble could be heard and the ground shook beneath them.
Amazing how luck never seems to leave the old man's side, no matter how far his journeys go.
Priscilla got a few scowls from a few of the people in the waiting room, why did they hate her? What had she done to accrue that attitude? Unfortunately for her, she doesn't know that there aren't much faunus sympathizers here, the only compassionate ones would be the staff thankfully. She did as she was told, to stay by Jade's side and wait til Dajorn returns, he always does, doesn't he?
Upon arriving at the room that Jade was in, there were a few visitors waiting at the door. They were the ones that saved them from the village, she only remembers the orange haired one, who was so lively and full of happiness. Next, to her, a girl with red hair and wearing the closest thing to armor in this world, and lastly a boy with a pink streak of hair.
"Oh, it's you! The girl with such pretty white hair! Nice to meet ya again!"
"Tis nice seeing thee as well. I don't think we've acquainted much further after the village. What are thine names?"
"You kinda speak funny, buuutt I'm Nora Valkyrie! And this here is,"
"Lie Ren," He finished for her.
"And I'm Pyrrha Nikos, a pleasure to finally meet you. May we ask your name?"
"Tis Priscilla, just Priscilla. My companion, Dajorn…." She looked back at the waiting room to see if he's still there, but alas, no one but random strangers. "Is with a few others at the moment."
"Would you mind if we all sit down and chat for a while?" Ren asked, in which the Painter nodded happily, "Yes, I'd like that."
The group gathered around the bed of Jade, who was still unconscious from the sedative, each of them used uncomfy chairs, except Priscilla, whom grew rather fond of the spinny and rolling chair that Doctor Pearson used.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, where are you and Dajorn from exactly?" Pyrrha questioned, quite curious about the mysterious two who don't seem to really belong in an entire village of people who hate humans.
"We're from a cold, gentle place called Ariandel. Tis in…." She thought about what Dajorn said to Carrie and Hershel when they asked him the same thing. "Atlas." Her eyes were avoiding Pyrrha's. She wasn't a really good liar, there was nobody to really lie to in the cathedral.
"Atlas? I'm pretty sure some have already said this to you, but you two are a long way from home," Pyrrha chuckled nervously.
"Indeed we are, but Dajorn refers to us as travelers, he cares for me as I seek places to paint, but when Jade found us, all my tools were broken when we were attacked by the Grimm." She decided to mix half-truths into the story, better that way. However, she'll have to tell Dajorn about this new story of their supposed lives. It just doesn't sit right with her to be saying these silver-tongued lies, but Dajorn insists t'will be for the best.
"You're a painter! Does that mean you're famous?" Nora asked out of the blue, "Oh, then hold on!" She scrambled for her scroll and furiously typed away at it, before revealing a rather decadent and poor excuse of a painting in Priscilla's opinion.
The painting showed a blotch of yellow with stick figures holding swords and shields and with text saying "Victory!"
"You must know Baron Canary's work!" Ren facepalmed and tried not to associate himself with it.
"I… uh…" Priscilla looked between Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren before finally laying eyes back onto the horrible drawing that would've befitted a proud child.
To Nora's knowledge, Baron Canary, or Canary Miles is a worldwide phenomenon of a painter who somehow managed to make it to the big leagues with his awful paintings that even children could surpass if they wanted to. But Nora stumbled upon it via the interwebs and was a 'little' intrigued by it.
"I'm afraid that I've never seen such…." She looked behind Nora's giddy grin to see Pyrrha and Ren waving their hands to say something nice.
"A masterful painting before or the painter himself…," Priscilla said with shyness of not wanting to burst Nora's bubble of glee.
"I know right! I'm sure he'll stay as the best painter in the world!" Nora cycled through more horrendous drawings.
Priscilla for the first time pouted just for a brief moment before anyone noticed and wished to eagerly show how great of a painter she is, but now isn't the time. Someday she will though!
Knock. Knock.
On the doorframe, stood Jaune, scratching his head in awkwardness, "Hey everyone, mind if I join you?"
"Of course, Jaune! It's not a birthday party!" Nora said, "Though it is a get-well-soon kinda deal." She looked at the sleeping form of Jade once more.
"Hi there, I'm Jaune Arc, the team leader of everyone here." He motioned for a handshake and Priscilla almost kissed it like with Jade, and instead shook it gently.
"Greetings, I'm Priscilla, tis wonderful to meet you all, and I'm sure Jade would appreciate it as well." She rested her hand onto Jade's.
The whole hospital shook with a thunderous shake and the ground beneath them did so as well. Soon, a loud eruption of something breaking into chunks and falling down to the ground came and the sounds of roars and screaming could be heard from the waiting room.
"Looks like we'll have to talk later! Nice meeting you, Priscilla! Team, let's go!" Jaune ordered as they all ran out of the hospital room, waving goodbye to the young painter.
Running outside, citizens of Vale were fleeing from the courtyard, where Grimm poured out like water to a broken dam.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Dajorn made a run for it while the guards were busy gaping at the scene of Grimm infesting the courtyard.
His efforts lie not in saving these people, no they had the power to do that themselves. They lay in keeping Priscilla safe and ensuring the painting to be finished at all costs.
He kept running, at least he was until an Alpha Beowulf blocked his path, howling at him and showcasing razor-sharp claws, ready to disembowel him at a moments notice.
Unsheathing the regular form of the Aquamarine dagger, Dajorn prepared himself. He may be old, but he'd be damned to let a dark wolf that would've made Sif chortle stop him on his way to Priscilla.
Small dragon-like creatures, three of them he counted joined in on the small fight, their maws lined with sharp teeth.
Dajorn looked around to see if there was anyone watching him. Nobody ought to notice if he used it here, would they?
No. They're all busy fighting their own battles. Besides, it'll keep him alive, that's what matters.
The Dark hand formed in his left palm, that familiar sense of hunger which came with it. He had to ignore it, to use its other benefit: Acting as a shield.
Never again will he use it to steal away life, it won't happen again. It shouldn't.
There's the end to this chapter! I hope this hollow who has a grasp of humanity has pleased you. If so, wonderful! If not, darn it all. I hope to see you all again on the next Saturday! Don't get yer self-killed, neither of us wanna see you go hollow now, like me...