Chapter three, delivered. Chapter six is around halfway complete at the moment, and I'm writing it as I continue to proofread those that I've already written. Once I've posted all the chapters that have been pre-written, I will be attempting to update every ten days. My chapters run a bit on the longer side, anywhere between 9000 words to 12000, so it takes some time. My work schedule can be uneven, too, as sometimes I stay later than other days and it affects my writing time.
I go to the gym after work, so if I have to stay until 12:30 like I sometimes have to, I don't write that night.
Anyways, thanks for all those who reviewed and followed. I appreciate the gesture. In regards to the story itself, I will say, for those curious, that my own plot will really begin to be hinted at around chapter seven. I believe in a slow buildup, both to make the world and the characters more lively before having any important events that diverge from established canon. As for pairings, I won't confirm nor deny anything. Life is rather fluid, and I'm doing my best to reflect that in this story. This isn't a romance story, either, but I feel most stories that don't attempt to have some sort of romance lack a certain level of realism that makes reading more enjoyable.
If you have any criticisms, advice, questions or more, please leave it in a review or PM me. I'll answer to the best of my ability.
Edit: Again, special thanks to my beta, ekaterina016.
Sibyl was rather nervous. It was a feeling he was not entirely used to, at least not in the way he was feeling it then. Anxiety over an upcoming fight could be common; Lords knew he had experienced it prior to his fight with the black dragon Kalameet of Oolacile. Most of the Lords had caused him to feel a similar nervousness, while Manus... Manus had made him to feel fear, a different emotion entirely.
The nervousness he was currently feeling was different than what he had experienced in the past, however. It was akin to a pit in his stomach, curling in on itself and squeezing. It was very irritating, and he wished it would dissipate at once.
Shaking his head, he took a deep breath. Really, this was all terribly unfounded. He was the damn Chosen Undead, someone who had stared down the greatest of odds and come out on top time and time again. The fact he was nervous over something as simple as this was absurd!
Maybe it was the fact the headmaster of this academy had simply accepted his request at a meeting with but a single call from Yang? They had not even confirmed he had really met Qrow. It was rather suspicious in his head, truthfully. Why would they accept someone so easily? Even Frampt had been much more... intensive, requiring the retrieval of the Lordvessel before he believed Sibyl to be the chosen undead of prophecy.
Beyond his questions on why he was accepted so easily, were others: how was he supposed to act? He was rather out of practice around such immature individuals, and he most certainly didn't feel himself fit to be at some academy for learning, though at least it was for something he was very experienced in.
Everything was such an impossibility, yet here he was.
Banishing any further thoughts of doubt from his mind, he moved back to focusing on the sight out of the window in front of him. It was a near-breathtaking sight, one on par with his first gaze upon the great city of Anor Londo. They were flying as high as the clouds, the steel... thing they were in piercing through the white fluff.
Some may think him a fool, staring out the window with such wonder and a wide grin upon his features, and if that was so, he would gladly play the role of a fool. It was simply incredible, and he wished he could figure out what made such a flying ship possible. Was it magic on par with Oolacile or the general ingenuity of Sen's Fortress? Was it something beyond his knowledge, so much so just attempting to understand it would have his head ringing in pain? Which one did he even want it to be? Each option would bring with it questions.
If it was magic, he would have to figure out how to cast it himself. The value such a spell could have was unthinkable. "Remarkable," he muttered under his breath, eyeing the sun in the far distance.
"Isn't she?" Yang agreed with a squeal, capturing his attention and promptly confounding him. "Let's celebrate!"
What they were celebrating was a bit beyond him; he watched with confusion as Yang moved and wrapped up her smaller sister into some sort of bear-hug, clearly crushing the girl if the wheezing was any judge. "My baby sister is going to Beacon with me!"
Sibyl shook his head at the antics, returning his gaze to the window. Much as the sisters were amusing, he felt out of place watching the warm gestures and affections. While he certainly had bonds with his friends, all of whom were now dead, they hadn't been as clearly affectionate. A firm hand on the shoulder was all they had ever needed to get words across.
He'd always found a certain charm in that.
The only time he experienced anything more warm was in his few ventures with the fairer sex – no, not even them. He'd never really had time to develop them besides some honey-laced words. Tragedy always struck, or there were demons and Gods to be slain; things everyone, them included, deemed more important than his feelings. Because really, what was one undead's personal woes worth when the fate of all undead rested on his shoulders? That was why Rhea had rebuked his affections.
Sighing, Sibyl felt the stares being directed at him from behind. He could only ponder as to why most were staring at him. Maybe they thought his fascination with the sky odd; perhaps it was armor and wrapped eye which drew their attention. If he had to bet a humanity sprite on it, however, he would say it was the incredibly large Greataxe which rested upon his shoulder.
If he was to be meeting the headmaster of a school who trained people to slay Grimm, he ought to look properly equipped.
"...but I'm so proud of you!"
Smirking lightly, he turned his gaze away from the sky. He wasn't going to be able to properly appreciate the sight with Yang in such close proximity, nor with the stares baring into him. The atmosphere was somewhat uncomfortable, what with the numerous conversations and small-talk going on all around. Such things were rare in Lordan; he had been lucky to find one sane soul to talk to, much less a room full of them.
It wasn't without its draws, though. At least these people of Vale kept it more lively. Everyone here seemed so... normal, or at least what he imagined normal to be. Then again, Yang had seemed remarkably normal until her hair caught fire. This was a school for hunters, as well... everyone in here likely had a Semblance of some sort.
They were supposed to be incredibly versatile and almost entirely unique. He looked forward to seeing them in action.
Humming softly, Sibyl scanned the crowd of would-be students. None stood out in any way worth noticing. There was a remarkable amount of hair colors, however. Such a strange land he found himself in, though it was of no real issue. His own hair was tinted blue, after all, a quality often found in Carim. He could only guess he came from that land, though anything before his awakening at the Asylum remained a mystery. His true hair color was also remarkably hard to see without proper lighting.
Ears ringing, he slowly turned towards something Yang had called a projection. It seemed to have some sort of message for them, impressively translated with actual voices and people within it. It was quite the fantastic magic which he endeavored to learn; the ability to pass information along instantly and over a long way seemed incredibly useful.
There was a red-haired man on the screen, staring back with a smirk so smug he nearly mistook his lips for Patches. Perhaps the man had more in common with Patches than just a smirk, however, as the strange people on the screen explained 'Roman Torchwick'to be an infamous criminal whose deeds sounded more like a petty thief to his ears. He was so famous for simply stealing. It made no sense.
But what did he know? Practically nothing.
As a new woman suddenly appeared on the projection, he felt his interest dip. She was quite attractive, with blonde hair and glasses, but that wasn't enough to ensnare him after meeting Gwynevere. Of course, then she introduced herself as a Glynda Goodwitch, and he remembered she was who he was supposed to give Qrow's note to. Giving her another once over, he realized that yes, she really was like how Qrow had described.
His attention reignited, he actually paid some degree of attention to her introduction. She didn't really say all that much, so he nearly interrupted to explain who he was – but then remembered Yang saying these were 'pre-recorded' and 'one-way'. What he gathered from that was she wouldn't be able to hear him, so it seemed he'd have to find her later.
"…get it off, get it off…"Yang uttered repeatedly, shaking her shoe in an attempt to get the puke some poor boy had deposited upon her feet off. A bit of it was flung at Ruby, resulting in two girls freaking out over something so trivial. Velka above – may the two of them never find themselves in Blight Town or even the Depths.
Was this his punishment for killing so many Gods?
Sibyl had managed to separate himself from the dynamic duo of Yang and Ruby quite easily, given the two of them had been distracted trying to clean themselves off after the puking incident on the airship. It had been a simple matter to slip away as Yang cleaned her shoe. He felt it was rude to simply leave them without a word, yet the relief was enough to make him not actually care. They weren't bad company per se, but rather exhausting to deal with given how used he was to his more subdued past company.
While internally promising to find them later, he was also looking forward to some time alone.
That had been the thought, anyways. His logic had been fairly simple: he was going to explore the academy grounds himself, ideally finding Glynda Goodwitch or the mysterious Ozpin whom he had only heard about. If he could explore the depths of lost civilizations and their dangerous ruins, then he could explore some school grounds.
…was what he had told himself. Reality seemed to have a different idea on the situation.
"Damnation… Where am I?" It was the third or fourth courtyard he had found himself in. Why were there so many courtyards?! Who designed this place? Had they lived in courtyard seclusion for the entirety of their lives, longing for an opportunity to frolic in them freely?
His goal had been to find Goodwitch or Ozpin, and he only now realized that was a damn impossibility on his own. He had navigated every corner of Lordran without a shred of trouble, yet this place bested him? He was disgusted with himself. "Drat… perhaps I should have stayed with Yang?" He paused, glancing up to the sky above.
No, the extended silence was well worth it.
"Excuse me? Would you mind not taking up the entire walkway?"
Well, the silence had been worth it, but all good things always came to an end. Ey turning down, he blinked at the girl who had saw fit to ask him to move. Stark white hair and a scar upon her eye were what stood out at first glance. Finer details came in thereafter; she had stunning blue eyes and a slim figure. Not to mention it was more than just her hair which was white. She seemed to have something of a theme going with the color, her dress spectacularly matching with light blue and silver notes.
Coughing lightly upon realizing he had stared for more than a few moments, he rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. "Forgive me. I was distracted." He turned sideways, giving her an easy way passed.
The girl sniffed daintily, nodding in a dignified manner and preparing to go on her way past him.
He was not so quick to let an opportunity pass. "…If it's not too much trouble, Miss, might you have any idea on where we're supposed to be going?"
She glanced over her shoulder, giving him a scrutinizing stare which bordered on annoyed. "Hmph. Very well. As the Schnee heiress, I should be able to lower myself to a simple guide from time to time."
It was a fancy way of saying yes, but he was simply glad she had said yes, snobbish demeanor aside.
Inclining his head in thanks, he stepped in beside her. "I thank you. I am Sibyl. It is a pleasure, Miss…?"
Her face scrunched slightly, an expression associated with confusion. Why was she confused? Wome- nae, people confused him, and likely always would. Nonetheless, she introduced herself, "Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Corporation. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't recognize me."
"I am new to this land, so do entertain any ignorance I may have." Yang had been remarkably good at doing it, but he was hardly expecting most to put up with him being clueless. A shame indeed, but he would figure things out in time. Hopefully.
Weiss scanned him for a few moments, eventually nodding. "I didn't think you were from around here. You hardly look… normal."
As true a statement one could make. He did stand out like a sore thumb compared to those around him, with his hair, his scars, and his wear. Quite the trifecta, up there with the three main branches of magic.
"Still, you seem to have your head on straight, unlike some of the people around here."
He laughed a genuine laughter he hadn't let loose in some time. A very long time. Him, with his head on straight, as they say? He ought to have told that one to Siegmeyer before his passing; they both would have gotten a great kick out of it. The day he had his head on straight was the day Logan didn't have a ginormous hat atop his head, even when he was under delusions of being a dragon. If Patches ever stopped with his petty theft and tricks, then he might have his head on straight.
Perhaps when Laurentius took up sorcery, his head would be on-
"Are you done?" Weiss questioned, a bit of snap in her tone. Oh, had he upset her?
A hand was held up in defense, hopefully easing some of her irritation. "I didn't mean any offense. I've just… never had anyone imply I have my things in order, as it were."
She rolled her eyes, lips smirking up slightly. "Well, I didn't say that. I said it seemed like you did."
"Still as big a compliment as I've ever received."
She nodded, crossing her arms as she walked. "Yes, well, do try to not make me retract it. I've already dealt with one imbecile today."
He had been around the Darkmoon Knightress enough to know that it was his cue to ask what she was talking about, precisely, even if he didn't entirely care. "An imbecile, you say?"
Weiss sighed heavily and dramatically before continuing, "I'm afraid so. I came to Beacon because I expected high standards, yet they let someone so young in here who nearly killed me after just getting off the transport!"
Sibyl stroked his chin, trying to figure out just how badly things had to go for that series of events to occur. Just off the transport and putting lives in danger? It was impressive. Still, it was just as likely an accident. The logical side of his mind had already dismissed the notion of whoever nearly injured Weiss as being an imbecile – at least one entirely.
"If someone young gained entry, it's prudent to assume they have some exceptional skill in the slaying of Grimm."
The Schnee heiress dismissed his words with her eyes near-instantly, giving him a sidelong stare. "I highly doubt that little girl is skilled at anything other than causing accidents."
Wait… a younger girl who gained entry to Beacon had nearly killed her right after getting off the transport, presumably in some sort of accident? While he had only known her a very short while, the description fit a bit too closely
He decided to stay quiet on the matter, knowing better than to put himself between a feud of two girls. Glancing around briefly, he tried to find a change of subjects. Luckily, Weiss was carrying one at her waist.
"…a fine-looking rapier you have, with both a sharp point and a thicker blade for a cutting edge, though I think the length of the weapon itself is somewhat short. I always favored a longer rapier like the estoc."
She gave him a long look, mouth forming into a thin line. "I hardly expected you to have any experience with a rapier, given that large hunk of steel one might call an axe."
All he could do was shrug at her words. She was right; the Black Knight Greataxe was effectively a large, sharpened hunk of steel at the end of a pole. It was terribly unbalanced, unwieldy, and incredibly powerful in his hands. "I am experienced in all manners of weapons, but yes, I do favor 'hunks of steel', as you say." It hadn't been his intention, really, but when everything he fought just kept getting bigger and bigger, he adjusted accordingly.
"I can't imagine fighting with that. It's obscenely unbalanced."
"It took some adjusting, but I manage."
She stopped as they arrived at a large doorway, the doors themselves already propped open. "Well, this is it. All students were directed to meet here for further instructions." And indeed, he could see the students had listened. The place was packed. Litters upon litters of students stood within, all chatting. There were a lot of them, and oddly, he could almost… feel them? It wasn't something he was used to.
A part of him likened it to the feeling of a soul, yet he wasn't-
Sibyl stumbled forward, free hand reaching up to clutch at his eye as it spasmed. He set his axehead against the ground to help balance him, a few of the students nearby stepping back at the impact of it against the ground. He paid them no mind, mostly because it was hard to focus on anything else except the burning in his eye. Gods, why did this have to happen to him? Fighting the Abyss had been bad enough; the taint was even worse.
The undead had already dismissed the possibility of it ever healing. He was going to be stuck with it like this for the rest of his life, or until it consumed him entirely. He was getting used to seeing out of one eye, yet when his other one flared up like this, he felt well and truly blind.
"S-Sibyl? Are you alright?"
He forced his hand down, forming a fist with it and turning his knuckles white beneath his glove. "Just… phantom pains."
Oh, there was nothing phantom about the pain. It was as real as anything else.
"…if you're sure."
He tried to give no visual indication his eye burned worse as he stepped further and furtherinto the room. Weiss was at his side and still looked vaguely concerned.
Well, she didn't have anything to worry about. He had dealt with far worse pains. This was nothing, even if it was constant and burning and kept getting worse and worse. He was fine. It was fine. Weiss and himself moved deeper into the crowd, settling somewhat near the center as he forced people to part. His bulky build and armor was quite good for that, if nothing else.
Perhaps the axe resting against his shoulder helped, too.
"Well, everyone's supposed to be here in five minutes, so I imagine that's when we'll begin-"
Sibyl nearly struck his elbow at whoever saw fit to pull him into an awkward
side-hug, stopping from doing so only because he saw the golden locks of hair swoosh by the side where he could still see.
"O-ho, look at you, Fireball. Already making moves with the ladies, eh?"
His one good, undead eye blinked. "What?"
Yang's face fell as she released him, backing up a few steps and shaking her head. "You are no fun at all," the blonde pouted.
What in Lordran was she going on about? He would hardly make romantic moves on someone he had only just met. Was everyone except him insane? Would his eye stop burning? The pain was lessening somewhat, or perhaps he was just getting used to it. He'd bet good souls it was the latter.
"Excuse me? Who exactly are you?" Weiss questioned, looking between him and Yang with scrutinizing eyes.
"What? Fireball here didn't tell you all about Mama Yang?"
The chosen undead palmed his face, dragging the hand down. "Yang, please attempt to make some degree of sense. I am trying-"
"Yaaang, why did you just leave me!"
Oh, great, now Ruby had arrived. Well, it would allow him to see if his theory was-
""It's you!""
Both Weiss and Ruby cried at the same time, one voice angry, the other frightened. It made for an interesting parallel to his ears.
"Wait, you two know each other?" Yang questioned, only slightly more confused than he was. All the insight he had was the two had crossed each other and Ruby had, somehow, nearly killed Weiss… or so she claimed. He rather doubted the validity of such a statement. People could be dramatic, though then again, he had stared death in the face far more often than anyone else. Perhaps it was Weiss's first near encounter, and she was left shaken by it.
"Yes. This reckless child nearly blew us off the cliff side!"
"Oh my God, you really exploded…" The blonde muttered to her sister, staring with wide eyes.
Sibyl rubbed two fingers against the side of his forehead in a vain attempt at lightening the headache he was beginning to get on top of his eye's constant burning. He paid no mind to the arguing going on alongside him, something about 'Dust' and 'safety regulations'.
It was terribly uninteresting, so tuning it out was hardly a problem. Instead, he focused on things much more interesting. Namely, those around him. Not all of them – the majority were hardly worth a glance over, as boring and normal as they came. Yet mixed within their numbers were strange, strange people, relatively few of them, yet the feature they had was extraordinary. Animal features. He had thought to have seen some in the club himself and Yang visited, but he had dismissed it as a trick of the dark. Now, he wasn't so sure.
They looked very real, given how they twitched and perked up at the appropriate times. Did they assist with hearing? Was it possible to get a pair, or was it a natural feature similar to how Dusk's ears had been pointed? Did they exhibit other features animals might have? How did they come to be?
He longed to learn more about the odd people and their strange features. If he had wolf ears, he would have been able to navigate Sen's Fortress with ease. He might have even heard that damnable chest sleeping…
"Sibyl? Are you even paying attention?"
He shook his head in a 'no', sighing at the scathing tone Weiss had used. "I won't pick a side in your petty squabble, handle it yourselves."
The white-haired Heiress tried to speak more, but a clearing of the throat echoed all around the room. Sibyl wasn't much sure where it came from, so he simply followed where all the other eyes turned towards: the stage, where a man with grey hair stood. Behind him and to the right was the woman he was supposed to be meeting with: Glynda Goodwitch.
"I'll keep this brief," he began, not even introducing himself. Somewhat arrogant, but if he was speaking to such a crowd, he might be important and recognizable. "You have traveled here today in search of knowledge, to hone your craft and acquire new skills."
While such an assumption hardly applied to him, it made sense for the rest of the crowd. He doubted he would learn much at all from this place.
"And when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people."
Qrow's explanation on hunters at least seemed to hold up under scrutiny.
"But when I look among you, all I see is wasted energy, potential in need of purpose and direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this academy will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far."
The chosen undead felt inclined to agree. It was a… startling speech, really, one he wished he would have heard when leaving on his venture, little more than a foolish boy. He had learned it in a much more difficult manner, yet as Logan often said: what was learning without experience? Most of the kids in this room would see his words as mad ramblings. Such was the ignorance of the inexperienced.
"It is up to you to take the first step." The man stepped back, walking aside with the unneeded assistance of his cane.
Glynda stepped up to the voice-echoing device, speaking slowly in the wake of the speech. "All first-year students will gather in the ballroom tonight. Tomorrow your initiation begins, so be ready." There were a few murmurs through the crowd, but she was not done. "All students, except for Sibyl Lordran, are dismissed."
Everyone looked around in confusion, with most taking the cues from the group of girls who knew he was 'Sibyl Lordran'. Really, they had insisted upon giving him some last name? It sounded odd to his ears, but it could have been worse. Grunting, he adjusted the axe resting against his shoulder and took strides forward. He gave a wave over his shoulder at the three who knew him.
It was time to meet with Goodwitch, and soon thereafter, Ozpin.
Glynda had been expecting… well, she wasn't entirely sure what she had been expecting when Qrow sent a mysterious message two days ago that he'd 'sent a package their way'.For someone as eccentric as Qrow, it could have meant nearly anything. And she really did mean anything, from a keg of beer to notes on a new species of Grimm. It kept things lively, not that she appreciated it.
Herself and Ozpin had spent some time wondering what it could be when they got a phone call from Qrow's niece, Yang Xiao Long. She was an upcoming student at Beacon, so her calling wasn't much of a surprise, even if it had come in exceptionally late at night. What had been a surprise was when Yang claimed to have someone her uncle had instructed to go to Beacon with her.
Qrow refused to ever communicate clearly, partly because he enjoyed annoying her, partly because it was always a risk. Given how important it was to not have any information slips, Glynda continued to put up with it.
Yet, despite knowing Qrow had sent someone their way, she still hadn't expected the boy in front of her. He certainly didn't look like any student she'd taught before; he looked far more like an experienced hunter. He wore bulky armor reminiscent of a knight, a set which had clearly seen wear and abuse judging by the appearance. It was well-cared for, she could tell that much, but there was only so much anyone could do.
His weapon was a mixture of odd and impressive. It was an axe, presently resting against his shoulder, attached to an excessively long pole and with a bladed head so large she could only think of a few hunters she had met in her lifetime who could even hope to wield it with any semblance of balance and skill. She was forced to assume he was skilled with it, until proven otherwise.
Most noteworthy, however, was that at such a tender age, his left eye was wrapped by cloth, completely covered. It was an assumption, yes, but she felt it a safe one to say that the wound would not recover. He surely would have taken steps to fix it otherwise.
Glynda stared at Sibyl, her face impassive as he came to a stop in front of her. She would give no visual cues on her idle thoughts.
"Greetings. I am Sibyl of Lordran," he emphasized in his introduction, seemingly cross at having been given a last-name. It was something she had done for clarity's sake and to help prevent him from standing out any more than was needed.
Students were often self-conscious about such things.
Her efforts might have failed, but he at least didn't seem seriously bothered by it. A mild irritation at most.
She extended a hand to shake, his leather glove meeting it quickly and firmly. "I am Glynda Goodwitch." It was a subtle thing, but she did appreciate he maintained eye contact. None who knew her ever made the mistake of wandering, but first-time students sometimes did.
"A pleasure, Lady Goodwitch. Qrow told me some things, but… well, to be frank, I tuned most of his mad ramblings out."
Wonderful, she might end up having to fix whatever mess Qrow had made. Sibyl had at least made the right decision to ignore most of what came out of the drunk's mouth. She could hardly blame him for doing so and was in fact a bit worried to find out if Qrow had done or said anything… Qrow-like. "All good things, I hope?"
Sibyl smirked lightly. "Rest assured, Lady Goodwitch, anything Qrow might consider a negative, I see as a positive."
She quirked a brow. So, Qrow had been talking badly of her, had he? And, on top of that, it seemed their resident explorer really hadn't made the greatest impression. That was nothing new, of course. She still remember the first time he met Winter Schnee...
She was getting a headache just thinking about it.
The boy in front of her paused, narrowing his one good eye at her. "I trust you won't be attempting to loosen my lips with alcohol?"
She resisted the urge to palm her face, mostly because it would have been very unprofessional to do in front of a potential student. Mentally, however, she was groaning. No one made her job easy; she was the one who had to deal with everyone, while Qrow spat in the face of responsibility all the time! Ozpin just said mysterious one-liners and stepped on toes…
"Yes, well, I am sorry for that. Qrow, skilled as he may be, is something of a headcase." She was going to kill him. He tried to get this boy drunk and didn't even succeed!? The one thing he was good at had failed miserably. 'Deep breaths, Glynda. In and out…'
Right. She could deal with his idiocy later.
"Do not stress on it too much. I've experienced much worse; it was actually quite tame and at least somewhat subtle."
Sighing lightly in relief, she allowed herself a strained smile. Altogether, considering how bad things could be, they were going well.
It was both concerning to hear and a relief. Qrow wasn't exactly known for his foresight, so it was good Sibyl didn't seem the type to hold grudges. On the other hand, what seventeen, eighteen years-old teenager didn't hold grudges for something as severe as that? It was a breach of trust at the absolute best.
Puzzle pieces were beginning to come together in her mind, but it would be some time until she figured it all out. She idly picked out a scar on his collarbone, one which ran down to whoknows where. No stranger to combat, clearly. She tried not to think about what other possible scars he hid beneath that bulky armor.
"And besides, he paid for it all." The knight-reminiscent chuckled, and her lips almost twitched upwards. Almost.
"Please follow me. We should go someplace more private to discuss your situation."
He did so diligently, following her aside as she moved to meetup with Ozpin. "Oh, before I forget. Qrow gave me something for you." He reached into a pocket, pulling out… a napkin? God… she could feel the vein throbbing on her forehead. Nonetheless, she took the napkin, unfolding it to reveal another napkin.
At least he thought to cover it and preserve it. She opened it as she walked, staring at the words written on it in damn-near scribbles.
'Kid's got a weird-ass eye, be sure to take a look at it. He appeared with some inferno in the sky, and I found him tearing up Grimm. Says he comes from 'Lordran, Land of the Gods'. Crazy shit, right? Anyways, I told him Ozpin would be able to help. Oh, and ask about his pyromancy, which isn't a Semblance. It could turn the tide for us against them.
'Cheers – Qrow'
"He has quite the way with words," Sibyl spoke, disturbing her idle thoughts. She was grateful for it, mostly because they were not happy thoughts. It took her a moment to realize what he said meant he had read the note himself. Given that Qrow had tried to get him drunk, she didn't blame him. She would have done the same exact thing.
They would have to repair the trust Qrow had thrown out the window, especially if Ozpin was going to do what she expected.
"Qrow's vulgar vocabulary aside, I would very much like to meet and speak with this Ozpin."
Right, they were getting distracted. Qrow was hundreds of miles away and still managed to disrupt things.
"Of course, his office is just ahead."
Taking the silence as a chance to reflect, she considered Qrow's note. He had put some prudent information there. The eye which he covered was not gone, apparently, but was an oddity. She was most interested in his pyromancy, which had to be some sort of fire-based ability, but one which wasn't a Semblance?
According to everything they knew, that should have been impossible... with emphasis on 'should'. She wanted to say it was impossible, but there were a lot of things she would have considered impossible which were in fact very real. She had let go of the notion of impossible long ago – anything was possible… even if it was far-fetched. They would have to discuss it; she was hardly going to call him a liar. Relations had been damaged enough already. Focusing on the rest of the note, she was happy to hear he was able to rip through Grimm, presumably with that axe. If he were to attend here, it would make things much easier for him.
Opening the door to Ozpin's office, she allowed Sibyl to enter before her. While Glynda understood why Ozpin had insisted they meet in his office, she didn'tunderstand why Ozpin couldn't have just walked with them to his office. Just another thing she didn't understand about him, because nothing he did made sense to anyone with sense. She was the only sane one at the entire school! Peter might have been the second sanest, which just spoke on the absolute insanity she had to deal with regularly.
The headmaster in question was sitting at his desk, coffee in hand like it always was. "Ah, yes. Mr. Sibyl, was it?"
The young man nodded, setting his abundantly sized axe up against the wall. "Ozpin, I presume?"
An incline of the head was Ozpin's reply as he gestured to the seat in front of him, taking an idle sip from his mug. Sibyl took the seat, albeit hesitantly.
"I'm glad you made it here safe, young man."
Sibyl rolled his shoulder, finally settling into his seat. "I was fortunate enough to be found by Miss Yang."
Ozpin set his drink down, leaning forward slightly. "Yes, she is one of our premier new students. I'm looking forward to having her for the next few years."
Things were silent for a few moments after Ozpin finished speaking, a silence only ended by Ozpin himself. "Let us skip the pleasantries. I don't think you came all this way for them."
Sibyl sighed in relief, his shoulders losing the tenseness previously present. Maybe he wasn't used to things so trivial? It was worth noting.
"No, I did not. I come from a land very far from here." He paused, taking a deep breath and clenching his fists on the armrests of his chair. He nearly splintered the wood with the amount of force he was putting into the grip. All the stress he had was released with an exhale, his hands finally loosening. "You may think of me as mad, and indeed, I might be. But I hail from so far away, in fact, that we do not even share the same moon."
What? That was ridiculous, obscene. It sounded like something Qrow would say when absolutely plastered. Had the drunk bastard paid him to say that? Based on the completely serious face he was showing, the answer was 'no'. She forced her eyes shut and reset her mindset. Yes, the idea of a different moon was silly, something only possible in fiction.
So was the idea of magical maidens.
"…that is quite the bold claim. I'll admit to being skeptical."
The would-be knight rose to his feet, shaking his head. "Only a fool would believe such a tall tale. I hardly believe it myself, yet here we are. Tell me, Ozpin. What do you know of the Soul Arts? Of pyromancy, miracles, and sorceries?"
She waited for his response. To her, two of those sounded like nonsense, yet Ozpin remained calm.
"Nothing."
It was admirable how well Ozpin dealt with things like this, but that was why he was the headmaster. Sibyl didn't say anything, simply holding up a hand and conjuring a ball of fire. It was mesmerizing, with a red tinge as opposed to a normal orange, or even yellow. Glynda could even feel it, and she wasn't talking about the heat. It was almost as if he had concentrated his Aura to form it, but even that wasn't a good enough way to describe it.
"You would think this a Semblance, yes?" Both of them nodded. The ability to conjure fire was not entirely uncommon, and was actually a well-documented, powerful Semblance. Logic told her it was a Semblance, yet she remembered Qrow's note.
He let the fire fade from his hand, shushing it quietly with no visible effort. "Pyromancy is connected to the Chaos Flame, and it is nothing like your Semblances. Anyone could learn pyromancy if they desired, including the both of you. Age does not prevent it, nor does race or sex."
All were silent as he reached towards his boot, pulling out some odd, white branch. She recognized it for what it was instantly, mostly because her 'weapon' functioned in a similar way.
It was a Focus.
He waved the ivory branch, and as he did so, a small, blue arrow shot forward, slamming against the far wall and doing relatively minimal damage. She still narrowed her eyes at him, enjoying the slight flinch. Good. Far too many students had no respect for their school.
"That is the weakest and most common of the soul sorceries: the Soul Arrow. I am somewhat of an expert in the art, though perhaps not to the same degree of the mastery and ingenuity I have shown with pyromancy.
"Much like pyromancy, anyone can learn the soul sorceries. It requires a certain level of innate intelligence to understand the intricacies, but the reward for it are quite high. It is nowhere near as… linear as pyromancy, per se."
Glynda was very interested as he cast another spell, this one turning his body transparent along with his armor. It was so effective, she had to squint briefly to see him. He came into focus thereafter, but she was already beyond impressed. If that was but a glimpse of what the so-called 'soul sorceries' could do, then she aspired to learn as much about it as she could.
For purely educational purposes, of course.
"This is all very impressive, Mr. Sibyl, but I can't help but wonder why you share it so freely. What reason do you have to trust me? For all you know, I could have you captured and force you to teach us both these arts."
Glynda didn't even stop from palming her face. Why? What had she done to be surrounded by this? Was having no tact required to be male and part of their group? Why did Ozpin have to make stupid threats like that? Why did Qrow have to try and get him drunk? Both actions implied they were just trying to use him, that he was some sort of tool to be discarded and no one except her seemed to care about pretending to be professional-
Sibyl laughed, a hollow-sounding thing which was quite different from his earlier chuckles. It sounded far more ominous. "I'm not so arrogant to think I could take on the entirety of this school. I saw Qrow in action, and if he is any indication, you are all quite skilled.
"I even doubt I could take on the both of you and live. But I would burn this school to the ground, myself and those in this room included."
Her shoulders tensed at the now so subtle threat, though it was hard to hold it against Sibyl after Ozpin had done so first.
"I'm inclined to believe you, Mr. Sibyl, but you didn't answer my question. Why share?"
He tapped his fingers on the desk in front of him, closing his one good eye slowly as
he leaned forward. "I don't think you will be much help in personally getting me back to Lordran, but I believe you can enable me to do so myself."
He let his words settle, before continuing, "A soul sorcery, one beyond my comprehension, sent me here. If it has sent me, it has sent others, as that is how legends and myths are born. I simply need to find the correct information, and I can begin to try and engineer the spell myself. Perhaps it is even on a scroll somewhere."
"So, you wish for our help to pull up old legends? What will you offer in return?"
Glynda rolled her eyes. Ozpin pulled up old myths and legends for fun, yet he made it sound like some monumental task. It was his hobby.
Sibyl cleared his throat. "I offer to teach both pyromancy and soul sorcery, perhaps even some of the lightning miracles, in return for your help."
This deal was sounding very one sided in their favor, indirectly letting them know despite how he tried to act, he was desperate. Far from home and completely alone...
She would be desperate too.
"Very generous," Ozpin commented, "but I get the feeling there's more?"
The young man nodded, "Yes. I will choose who I teach, perhaps with some recommendations from you or other members of the faculty. Pyromancy, in particular, can be a dangerous art if the student doesn't respect the flame."
A one-sided deal, indeed. It was rude to ask, but she was curious. "Why do you need to return home, if you don't mind my asking?"
He was silent for a few moments, staring at his own cupped hands. "Because I am chosen."
It was a vague answer, and apparently one he didn't want to reflect on for too long. "Right. I feel it prudent I show you my eye."
The cloth he had wrapped around it was slowly removed, and she felt her breath leave her lungs. There was no eye, nor even an empty socket. Instead there was a darkness, one which looked to have tried and spread further away from his eye in jagged lines. The darkness was far too reminiscent of the Grimm to be a mere coincidence, and she understood completely why Qrow had said they needed to look at it in his note.
"Before I was deposited here, I was battling the Abyss." A hand ran through his hair, tracking back in front and feeling the tainted, black-covered skin. The darkness moved almost as if alive when he touched it; her skin crawled just from looking at it. "As is often the case, it has… tainted me. I do not believe it will spread, nor do I intend to tap into the power it undoubtedly will tempt me with."
He stared at her with his good eye and… whatever that other eye was, before turning to do the same with Ozpin. "Should the infection spread and I fall to the Abyss, I only ask one thing: kill me without mercy, for I will surely show none to you. Can I get such a promise?"
She was hesitant to nod but did so regardless. It was sickening to imagine what precisely his infection spreading would do; it didn't sound pleasant.
Killing him would likely be a mercy. It was a sad reality.
"You have our word."
He smiled, nodding in appreciation at a promise for them to kill him. "Then are we in agreement? I can provide details you may look for specifically, but truth be told, I am quite tired."
Ozpin raised a hand to stop him from retrieving his weapon from the wall and simply leaving. "You'll have to pose as a student here for this proposal." Sibyl raised no issues with it, so she took it as her cue to step forward. "I'll show you where you can drop off your equipment and prepare for bed."
Sibyl walked quietly and slowly, dressed in the gold-hemmed black robes which he had found on a stone table near the entrance of the Demon Ruins. Back then, he had sought to return them to Quelana; she had dismissed his offer heatedly. It had hurt upsetting his new teacher so quickly into their student-teacher relationship, but it was equally insightful. Given how comfortable the robes were, combined with the protection they offered against the heat, he opted to keep them for himself. He would have kept them even if he never intended on wearing them, simply because he had a bottomless box. There was no point in not keeping everything he came across.
They served quite splendidly as "normal" clothes, something to wear when dangers were gone, and he sought to relax. Given he was no longer inclined to try and impress, he had changed after Glynda showed him to some sort of storage room where he was expected to leave his equipment. After she had left, he had simply put it in his bottomless box. No one needed to know of its existence.
He had stayed tight-lipped about it back in Lordran, too.
Pausing, Sibyl scratched the back of his neck. It was his only complaint with the robe; the material could get quite itchy, and he was also somewhat too large to fit into it. While the robe should be loose, it hugged his form more tightly than it was supposed to. Still, it was the best he had.
He scanned the large ballroom where everyone was to be sleeping. Some seemed to be already doing so, but most were still awake. It was very crowded; he hardly knew where to settle down. Glancing about, it wasn't hard to locate Yang and Ruby, given how loud they were being. He crossed off the idea of settling in near them instantly. Perhaps he would have stayed with Weiss if he spotted her, but he couldn't be bothered to keep looking. They would all be asleep within the hour, regardless of where he went.
He found a solitary corner, with only one girl with striking crimson hair being there.
It would suffice.
Approaching, he lowered his hood, though it would be going back up soon enough to block the light. He just was trying to not frighten anyone by looking mysterious, especially with how secluded the girl seemed. It seemed his efforts were for naught, however, as she froze slightly as when he got closer.
Maybe it was his one eye? It certainly didn't make him look friendly…
"Might I settle beside you, Miss?"
A stiff nod was his reply, but it was a reply.
Shrugging internally, he slid down the wall and into the crook of the corner. She gave him a few side-eyed glances as he pulled his hood back up, keeping it low to mostly cover his one good eye. He was correct in picking this corner, as the silence was quite nice. What wasn't nice was being stared at. It had never sat well with him, always causing tenseness.
"If I'm making you uncomfortable, Miss, I can leave." It was hardly a bother to him, though this was a nice corner.
"Oh, no! It's fine. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be rude."
He offered a small smile to ease her worries. "Think nothing of it. These are stressful times for all of us." An understatement at absolute best, doubly so in his situation. If Velka smiled upon him, Ozpin would be able to find the texts he needed. If not… well, he would cross such a bridge when the time came.
"Do… do you know who I am?" The girl asked, drawing him from his mind. It took a few moments for the question to register, and when it did, he blinked, head tilting slightly.
"I can't say I do, unfortunately. You'll have to forgive me."
Surprisingly, rather than looking affronted like Weiss did, she seemed… pleased? Gods, everyone here was so strange. Lady Goodwitch was the only person he had met who seemed even close to normal.
"No! It's fine – completely fine. I'm Pyrrha, Pyrrha Nikos," she introduced herself with a firm shake, and he made note of just how firm it was. Yang's grip was similar, albeit with slightly more callused hands.
He was looking forward to seeing their weapons of choice later. "A pleasure, lady Nikos. I am Sibyl of Lordran."
"Lordran? I've never heard of it."
He sighed, resting his head back against the wall. "None do, and yet, it is the place I'm forced to call home."
She was silent when he finished, and it took him around seven seconds to realize it was not a peaceful silence, nor a reflective one. He had made her uncomfortable, it seemed. He'd have to resolve the issue, but how...
A change of subjects seemed best.
"You'll have to forgive my next actions if they're disturbing; it helps calm my nerves."
And indeed, this was as much for his sake as hers. He held up a hand, conjuring a free-flowing Chaos Flame. It had no purpose; he did not try to shape it into a great ball of fire, nor combust it suddenly. He simply watched as it flickered and wavered, constantly trying to grow larger and only kept in check by his control.
Regular flames did not present the same problem. They were far easier to control. Yet, he had come to appreciate the chaos, and he could still reach into the depths and pull out a regular fire if he so desired. The nature of chaos connected with him far more closely than the regular flame ever had.
As he stared at the flickering source of heat in front of him, he felt… heavy. The flame he held was the only flame of its kind there was in these odd lands, his last connection to the First Flame of Lordran. Sure, he had his sorcery to connect him with the Land of the Gods, as well as his miracles, but he never felt as personally connected to them as he did the flame.
Sorcery was simply the art of casting spells; so long as he could understand the purpose, he could do it. Miracles were much the same, though revolving around a sort of blind faith which caused him to be unable to cast most of them. Pyromancy, however… pyromancy was special. With help, the flame itself had developed right alongside him. He had grown as it grew, their journey combined. It was as direct a parallel with his own skill as one could get.
"That's an amazing Semblance," Pyrrha commented, ending his internal musings. The redhead was watching the fire live with mesmerized eyes.
He turned to her with a grin, "It is no Semblance, Lady Nikos. It is a long-forgotten art, one which I hope to rekindle."
Pyromancy was the ultimate fantasy. He couldn't simply keep it to himself. It was not what Laurentius would have done, so it was not what he would do.
He stared at the flame in front of him for a few moments. "It would be selfish to keep the beauty of the flame to myself. It is in fire's nature to spread, no?"
She nodded, face skeptical but trying to keep up a pointless facade of politeness.
"Ah, I see. You think I'm mad."
Her cheeks lit up as red as his own flame's hue. "W-What? No, no! I just… I've never heard of anything like it that wasn't a Semblance."
It was hard to fault her for being skeptical; it was hard to fault anyone from being skeptical. Despite that, it was still annoying, so his eyes rolled, though he wasn't that irritated. "The only knowledge one can ever truly possess in this world, Lady Nikos, is the knowledge that we know nothing."
Very long ago, or so it felt like, he had thought he knew something.
"I suppose that's true..." Pyrrha conceded, adjusting herself slightly within the odd bag she was laying in. "Anyone could learn to summon fire like that, then?"
He nodded. "It requires a particular mindset and respect, but yes, there is nothing which stops anyone from leaning it except themselves."
He slowly let the fire fade from his hand, watching as it diminished into nothing.
For reasons far beyond him, he had to blink away the wetness in his eyes. He wiped at it idly, praying Pyrrha didn't notice the motion… which of course she did. "Sibyl? Are you alright?"
Not entirely sure what to say, he didn't say anything. It wasn't terribly helpful in defusing the situation, but it was what he did.
"Hey, there you are, Fireball!"
Perhaps he was imagining it, but Yang's voice seemed to have an almost angelic quality to it. Sibyl spared her a lazy glance as she forcefully plopped down between himself and Pyrrha, unknowingly being very helpful.
"Sheesh, you work fast. Two beauties in one day, eh!"
"Yang, could you try to make some degree of sense?"
She waved off his question, introducing herself to Pyrrha. "Yo. Nice to meet 'ya, I'm Yang."
Pyrrha gave a hesitant handshake, combined with a tense smile. She was quite the social butterfly. "Hello, I'm Pyrrha Nikos. I take it you know Sibyl?"
The blond vixen wrapped a hand around his shoulder, pulling him close. "We're best pals! Mr. Serious here knows he can always rely on Mama Yang for anything he needs. Anything," she suggested with a wiggle of the eyebrows. The chosen undead rubbed his forehead in an attempt to relieve the headache which was rapidly forming.
People confused him.
"Where is Ruby?" He questioned, quick to change the subject.
Yang yawned, unraveling herself from him. "Well, I left her with some quiet, book-reading girl. Was going to stick around, but then I saw you showing your hypnotizing flames to some other innocent girl and had to step in."
Pyrrah's face was red again for some reason.
"How noble of you," he muttered.
"Yeah, I'm the best, aren't I?"
Sibyl stared across at Pyrrha, meeting her striking emerald eyes. "Quite humble, too."
The redhead stiffened a laugh as Yang gave him a light slugg on the arm, a gesture which took him back to his times with Solaire.
He smiled.