Chapter 5 has arrived. This is the last chapter I have pre-written, and from now on, expect an update every two weeks or so, ideally. I'd like to speak out on my feelings about Jaune as a character, since a solid number of reviews were speaking on him either negatively or positively.
I've never been a huge fan of stories that simply get rid of Jaune and replace him with a crossover fill-in. I think it forces the author to follow Jaune's own story arc far too linearly and stiffens creativity. It can be done well, of course, but I still think it gets rid of a lot of unpredictability. I think Jaune himself is a well-defined character in the canon. He's someone who wants to be something, has never been important, and struggles with coming into his own. Honestly, I think the reason authors write stories with him so often is that is the exact character archetype for a lot of different anime main-characters.
No, really, think on it. My Hero Academia's main character is probably the closest comparison I can make. As for how Jaune fits into my story, well... it'll be shown eventually.
I don't intend to delve into the details on pyromancy/sorcery more than just this one chapter; it's mostly fluff. That said, it's the sort of needed fluff where if I didn't make some sort of fan-theory on how both functioned, everyone would notice and things would read oddly.
Thank you for all the reviews, and I'm glad I have managed to, so far, make Sibyl's eye injury realistic as one reviewer pointed out. I hope you all continue to read and enjoy.
Edit: Another thanks to ekaterina016 for beta'ing.
Sibyl watched, mouth pursed in a thin line as the many different groups walked up on the stage, being designated a name and their teammates in front of quite the crowd, which cheered appropriately loudly along with each announcement. It was odd, the thunderous clapping which would occur every few minutes; he'd never heard anything like it in Lordran. The system of naming teams was nothing too drastic, simply taking the names of the group members and forming it into something which sounded nice and typically aligned with a color, no matter how obtuse that color may have been.
He was in the back of the line they had been forced to form, behind Ruby and her teammates. It was a bit curious no one besides him had retrieved the other pawn piece, but Sibyl tried not to think on it too much. There could possibly be a team which was missing a member and he could just fill in there, based on what Weiss had informed him in an attempt to appease his worries. He was sure things would be fine, and even if they weren't, he would manage. He always had.
It was strange. When he first heard the idea of teams, it had been frightening. Now, watching as they walked up on stage in unity, together and most happy, he was reminded of the ventures he undertook with his companions. They had always been pleasant, and he'd always wished they could last longer. Yet those in Lordran were always there for their own reasons, be it searching out a sun to call their own or trying to locate the Mother of Pyromancy herself. Perhaps this place would fulfill the fantasy he had longed for? Sure, he had a lot less in common with these children then the band of warriors who ventured Lordran, but they were not without positive traits.
"Jaune Arc, Lie Ren, Pyrrha Nikos, Nora Valkyrie," Ozpin introduced, recapturing his attention. The last group had been some people he hardly recognized, so he didn't bother to memorize their names or team. This group, however, along with the next one could be filled with the familiar faces of those who had assisted in his defeat of the Deathstalker.
Pyrrha… well, he wished he could have been on her team, but hopefully she could form something of a backbone in that Jaune fellow. He had stepped forward to help him fight the Deathstalker, and Sibyl vaguely remembered hearing him bark out some commands. A spine had to be in him somewhere. It was hard to say who the lad reminded him of, just that he reminded the Chosen Undead of someone.
"The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. From this day forward, you will be known as Team JNPR (Juniper), led by Jaune Arc!"
Sibyl blinked. That was a… surprising choice, to be certain. He would have assumed Pyrrha or even Lie Ren to be chosen as leaders, given their combat abilities and demeanor.
Yang, only a few steps in front of him, whistled. "Get it, Ladykiller!"
Rolling his eyes at the rumbustious nature of the blonde vixen, he stiffened a laugh when Jaune nearly slammed into the floor after Pyrrha clapped him on the back. Jaune would have to be whipped into shape, but there might have been something there worth uncovering.
Sibyl himself had certainly not looked like much when he first left the Asylum.
They left the stage, Pyrrha seeming to be in a good mood as well as the other two of Ren and Nora. Jaune however, walked off like a haunted hollow. Perhaps even he hadn't been expecting to be assigned leader? It was an odd group to observe from his place, but then again, most would have said that about his band of friends in Lordran. Appearances could so often deceive.
He smiled as Ruby, Yang, Weiss and Blake took the stage, being introduced promptly. "From this day forward, you will work together as Team RWBY (Ruby), led by Ruby Rose."
Sibyl laughed and clapped, his own deep voice audible over near everyone else. Ruby would make a fine leader, indeed! He was positive of that fact as he had been about anything. Her assault on the Deathstalker showed a large measure of courage, regardless of the outcome. With more maturity and guidance, people could rally behind her with ease. Not to mention how she had managed to rid him of his anger, displaying clarity and calmness. If she could do that consistently with those around her, they would be a fine team.
"There is an exception today," Ozpin began as Ruby and her team left the stage, "Would Sibyl Lordran please come forth?"
He did so, shoulders square and a bit tense. The light was a bit much, forcing him to blink his surroundings into focus. There were a lot of people… he'd never even seen so many! It was as incredible as it as intimidating.
"An odd number of students passed initiation this year. With no other first or second year teams needing a position filled, Sibyl will function as a sole student until such a space opens."
Oh. The undead nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath.
"I congratulate you, young man, along with all of Beacon's new, fine additions."
The clapping was loud in the wake of Ozpin's words, but Sibyl was more concerned with getting off stage than to pay attention to the fanfare. He found Yang waiting at the bottom of the steps, hand on her hip and smirking lightly. "Well, look at that, guess you're just too hot for a team, eh?"
Sibyl shrugged, eyes falling to the ground. "It's a surprise to be sure, but I've always functioned more or less alone." He shook his head, getting rid of the muddling thoughts on his mind and bodying his way past Yang. "I believe I will retire early tonight."
Yang stared in confusion as he walked off. "Huh. I thought he was nervous about teams," she muttered.
Weiss settled in next to her, watching Sibyl leave through the crowd of people. "…He told me he was looking forward to being on a team," the heiress admitted, messing with the hem of her skirt, "It's a shame, really. He doesn't seem to be the most… well-adjusted individual. It might have done him good."
Biting her lip, Yang shook her head silently. "Yeah, right. Listen, Weiss, I'll meet up with you guys back at the dorm in a little bit." Before the heiress could even say anything, Yang was already off.
Yang paused, her hand hovering inches off from the doorknob to Sibyl's room. He was doing something in there, based on all the noise she heard. It sounded like he was rummaging through his own stuff, which made her hesitate. Did she really want to interrupt whatever he was doing? They really didn't even know each other that well, but she was the one who had brought him here, sorta'. Qrow had just pointed him in the right direction.
Would he even want to see her, or would he be pissed off about not being on a team like she was? He hadn't struck her as someone who could get angry, but that was before he claimed he'd rather die than be unable to kill a freakin' Deathstalker. Jaune had actually made a good point, and he just exploded! Sure, he was probably just sensitive about his eye, but still... maybe she had misread him?
Oh, screw it. When had she, Yang Xiao Long, ever hesitated because she was nervous? Throwing his door open, she entered to a sight she hadn't really expected.
He was sitting on one of the four beds, a metal, bucket-like helmet in his hands, complete with a red feather sticking up from its peak. Her entrance had startled him, seemingly, as his single eye widened. Upon realizing it was her, he relaxed, setting the helmet down next to him. "Yes, Yang?"
She opened her mouth to say something, but found no words coming out. What was she going to say? Nothing, it seemed.
He sighed, gesturing for her to close the door and enter. Things were silent as she took a seat next to him on the bed, blinking at the sight of a very large chest in the center of the room. It was damn near as big as one of the beds! "Ah. Well... I suppose it would be better to show you than let your idle mind spread unsavory rumors. Just do keep this a secret, understood?"
She nodded after a moment, fairly confused on just what he was talking about. Before she could wonder any more, he stood up from his bed, moving over to the open wooden box and reaching in. He pulled out a gigantic stone axe which was more akin to a hammer, something so large there was no damn way that it could fit in there.
Sibyl laughed, apparently finding the way her jaw unhinged funny. She huffed after getting her mouth back shut, pointing at the stupid chest. "How the hell did you do that, Fireball?"
He set the stone axe back inside the box, and she tiptoed forward, peeking into it. There was no end to it; it was just a black hole! "This, Yang, is a bottomless box. I hold more items in it than could fit in this room."
Her first instinct was to call him insane and just leave. But, as she stared inside the box, Yang realized he might not be lying. It was at least worth investigating, right? She reached a hand in, trying to touch the bottom and failing. Though, her hand did grab something. Pulling it out, she realized it was some sort of glove made of bone?
"The Dragonbone Fist. Quite the hardy weapon, if lacking in reach."
He sure had a flare for naming things; she'd give him that. Setting the armored glove back in the box, she dropped it and watched as it just disappeared. Was Fireball being honest? Was it an honest-to-goodness bottomless box? How did it even exist, and much more importantly, how could she get a copy? She really needed one of these. Every girl would probably want one, and here Sibyl was, storing it with more weapons and armor than she cared to count! No one except Ruby would ever use it like that. "…Got a spare?"
He shook his head no, closing the top of the chest. "It is one of a kind, to my knowledge."
Dang. "…Wanna share?"
He just raised a brow, as clear an answer as she was going to get. Well, it was worth a shot.
Sibyl moved back to his bed, staring at her for longer than was comfortable. "Why are you here, Yang?"
Sighing and rubbing at the back of her hand, she wasn't sure how to explain it. "Just wanted to make sure you were alright, you know?"
"I appreciate the thought," he began, leaning back and laying down fully across his bed, "but I am more than capable of dealing with such things myself."
See, he just didn't get it. Maybe it was because he was from the Badlands and wasn't used to being around other people, but even that didn't matter. He needed to get it, now that he was at Beacon. "You shouldn't have to deal with it by yourself, though."
He blinked, but made no move to sit back up right. Yang took a deep breath, adjusting herself on his bed to face him. "You got screwed, alright? It's not fair you're the only student at this entire school without a partner or a team. No one here is supposed to deal with anything by themselves, and that includes you, team or not!"
Sibyl was silent as she rambled, though he did force himself to sit back up.
"Listen, Fireball. What I'm saying is, you may not have gotten placed on a team, but you got friends, right? You don't have to deal with everything on your own, even if it's what you're used to."
Yang took a deep breath, eyes shut for a moment. When they next opened, it was to the sight of Sibyl stroking the stubble on his chin.
"Perhaps," he almost conceded. "Regardless, thank you for your concern."
It was the best she was going to get. Hopefully he heard what she was saying and hadn't just pretended to listen.
An awkward silence overtook the room, one Sibyl broke with a cough.
"…Ozpin has asked of me to teach both my pyromancy and Soul Sorcery in return for his assistance," Sibyl began, conjuring a beautiful flame in his open palm. She couldn't get over how mesmerizing it was, the way it managed to glow such a dark red so brightly. "I recall you being quite eager to learn the art, and... well, you did help me find this place."
She blinked, eyes zipping up from the flame to his lightly grinning face. "Right," Yang muttered, unable to keep a similar smirk off her face. Fireball was really going to teach her how to throw fire balls, wasn't he? This was going to be amazing.
"There are many ways to learn pyromancy, but we will be going with the method I learned as well as the fastest one." He paused, keeping his gaze on the flame in his hand. Slowly, its color changed, losing the deep red hue and becoming more… well, she'd call it regular, though the fact he was holding it directly above his hand made it anything but.
"Come closer, please." He closed his singular eye as she did so, and the flame in his hand grew smaller and smaller, eventually becoming no larger than a candle light in his palm. She noticed it still had a red center, though one had to squint a bit to see it through the normal orange and yellow. "A flame is a precious thing, something to be nurtured for an entire lifetime." He moved his open palm closer to her chest, stopping it inches away. His grey eye stared into her violet one, unblinking. "This flame is a piece of me, Yang, and sharing it creates an eternal bond. Such a bond is the only thing I have left to remember my two masters by, and through giving this to you, they too will become a part of you."
He smiled, but it wasn't exactly happy. "Please, honor their legacy."
She nodded, the smirk previously on her face gone. The way he spoke made it clear the two were gone and probably dead. She didn't have any more time to think on it when his hand touched against her chest, and she felt something, a sort of warmth she had trouble describing. It went beyond being just comforting; it was something that she could only think of as right.
She kept expecting it to fade, but it never did. It just stayed, pulsing within and making her feel alive in a way she never thought possible. "…It's incredible," she whispered, eyes shut as she tried to memorize as much of the sensation as she could.
"I felt much the same when Laurentius was kind enough to share his flame with me." His lips quirked up into a smile, "And no, it never fades. The flame completes us in a way only pyromancers could ever know." He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. "To my knowledge, we're the only two pyromancers in these lands. You are part of a very exclusive group now, Yang."
She pumped a fist, unable to keep just how excited she was contained. "Awesome!" And it was awesome. Her and Fireball, the only two pyromancers in all of Vale? She liked the sound of it, too. Yang Xiao Long, pyromancer extraordinaire!
"Indeed, it is awesome. Now, sit down, cross legged."
Oh, he was going to show her something absolutely incredible, wasn't he? She plopped down near instantly, having to stop herself from wiggling in excitement. He stiffened a chuckle in his throat, looking at her with a small spark in his eye. "Concentrate on the flame within you, guide it out through your core into your palm."
Right, right, she just had to draw it out. She could even feel it! This was gonna' be a breeze, then he could start teaching her how to toss fire balls. All she had to do was guide it out. Closing her eyes, she… what as she supposed to do, exactly?
"…Uh, how?"
He sighed, lowering himself onto the floor in front of her. "It is an intrinsic instinct. The flame is a lifelong companion, and as long as you take care of it, it will always work with you." That was… very vague and unhelpful. Sibyl pinched the bridge of his nose in response to her cluelessness. "Give me your hand."
She did so, feeling just how rough and coarse those hands of his were. "The flame is more a part of you than it is me at this point, but it should listen to my guidance if you assist it." There was a pause as he moved his palm underneath hers, placing his other hand atop hers. An instant later, she could feel it pull inside her. It was small, like an itch on her back, but she could feel it.
It was hard to help guide it, though she tried.
"Do not command it, Yang. Move it, just as you might will your hand to move."
Gah, did he not realize she was trying?! Scowling, she tried to focus, closing her eyes and just feeling it within her body.
Slowly, she was able to identify it and feel the tug. How was she supposed to let it flow, though? Move it like she moved her hand… could she be thinking about it too much? It was worth a shot. Removing any thoughts from her mind, she just… let it go, visualizing a wavering flame in her mind.
They stayed like that for who knows how long, Sibyl's hands covering her own as she focused on nothing so intently, she could hear her heart beat and nothing else.
"Open your eyes, Yang."
She did so, staring as he removed his top hand from hers, allowing her to see the fire that she was holding! She was holding fire… sure, it was as small as a candlelight, but it was hers, and she was holding it! Sibyl slowly removed his other hand from beneath hers, and the flame stayed, flickering lightly.
This was all her, then. Sibyl wasn't guiding her. She was doing it! Smiling, she glanced up from the flame at Sibyl, giggling like she was fourteen before looking back down – aaannd then her flame died, disappearing back inside her... soul or something. Who really knew? Frowning and trying to conjure it again, she did, if only for a moment. Squinting in concentration, she tried to bring it back and keep it, but all that happened was the same brief flicker.
"Control will come in time. Once you're able to conjure it and maintain it, I can teach you actual casts, which focus largely on loose internal visualization." He paused, rubbing his chin. "The flame is different in that manner to sorcery." He waved off his own words when her head tilted in confusion. "We can worry about that later. For now, simply practice until you can maintain a candlelight-sized flame effortlessly."
Standing up with a stretch as her back popped, she nodded, looking over at the clock. She couldn't stop herself from whistling. They had been there a lot longer than what it felt like. Still, it wasn't too late, but she probably shouldn't stay up for much longer.
Sibyl had taken that helmet on his bed and set it on his desk, staring at it for a few seconds before turning back to her. "I shall see you in the morning, Yang."
"Right. Well, thanks for the lesson, Fireball, it was a real blast."
He gave her a blank look.
"What? A blast, like how your fire balls explode?"
He shook his head, dismissing her with a wave. "Goodnight, Yang."
Some people just had no appreciation for good humor.
Pausing outside of his door, she held out her palm and tried to cause the flame to flicker again, which it did. Well, she had that part down. Now she just needed to get it to last longer than a quarter of a second…
Sibyl awoke to the sound of something blaring a noise so loud he thought his damn eardrums were going to pop and leave him deaf. Rolling onto his feet, he crouched, prepared to attack whatever in Izalith had awoken him in such a manner. It took a moment of scanning to find the source of the noise: a small, rectangular box with four numbers on its front: 08:30.
Approaching slowly, he squinted at it, not exactly wanting to destroy it without any knowledge of what it was. He had already made such a mistake with Yang's odd 'motorcycle'. He pressed the front which extended out slightly, where the red digits were displayed, and nothing happened except for him pushing the blasted contraption back. Grimacing, he tried pushing in its top, seeing something which extended past the flat top.
It did the trick, the noise stopping and giving him a sweet, sweet silence. He sighed in relief, moving back to his bed and sitting down. The peace lasted all of five seconds before he was forced to glance over at his closet, where his 'uniforms' were. He tried to glare at the blasted closet, but it was interrupted by a large yawn. His sleep had been largely peaceful, and for the first time in a long time, he had pleasant dreams. He figured it was the bed he was laying atop. It was more comfortable than anything he ever had the pleasure to sleep atop, and it was just another benefit to his stay in this world.
Scratching at his infected eye, he realized the cloth had come loose and was only half wrapped. Maybe he should simply use an eyepatch? Did he even have an eyepatch? Hmm. He'd find out later; first, he would shower. This place had the same invention Yang's family home did, a boon he intended to take advantage of.
Discarding his robes on the counter, he had to admit there were some advantages to being on his lonesome. The most prominent being he would not have to wait for anyone else to use the shower, and he could change freely in his room without having people question his many scars.
The shower was as enjoyable as he remembered it being, the heated water washing over his rough skin and giving him a sense of cleanliness which was never available in Lordran. He had been in the midst of simply enjoying himself when the damn rectangular block began sounding again. He cursed aloud, slamming his forehead against the wall in front of him. So much for his extended enjoyment…
Wrapping himself in the towel hanging on the wall, he stood in front of the box which now displayed 08:40. He pressed the button he had earlier, but the thing didn't stop. Pushing it in again, nothing happened. Sibyl slammed his fist down on the device, shattering it and ending the noise once more, this time, permanently.
…hopefully it wasn't that important.
Shaking his head, he went about getting dressed in his uniform. It was just so… ugly. Simply looking at it made him feel as if he had a stick up his rear. Who would wear such a thing? It was entirely too close to traditional sorcerer wear for his liking. Really, how Griggs had managed to stay in that Vinheim-brand cloth-prison for so long was beyond him.
Sighing softly, Sibyl took to putting the uniform on, from trousers to undershirt, then his coat. There was something else which was apparently supposed to go with it: a red piece of cloth, but how to put it on was a bit beyond him. He dismissed it entirely, throwing it onto the ground. Now, what had Glynda said he would need for classes…
Lady Goodwitch really had been of great assistance, meeting with him before their ceremony on teams. She claimed to have readied him a bag with everything he would need, and said something about unlocking his Aura at a later date. What exactly an Aura was, he didn't know, even if she had tried to explain it. Regardless, it seemed important with how she had spoken of it.
Hmm. Taking a glance around, he managed to find the bag she readied beneath his desk. It was a leather satchel, and he noticed something was atop it. Well, imagine that. There was an eyepatch, quite a large one.
That decided it, then. Lady Goodwitch would be one of his sorcery students, perhaps with one other. She had been very helpful, far more than Qrow or Ozpin, and Sibyl would repay such kindness in full. It was a firm belief of his, one of the few things which managed to keep him sane in Lordran. That land could twist others, but he would never allow it to twist him.
He readied the black eyepatch around his eye, taking a deep breath before walking out his door.
Right, which way was he supposed to go? Sibyl picked right, praying to Velka it was the correct choice.
When Weiss rushed by him, followed by the rest of Team RWBY and Team JNPR, he figured he had chosen wrong. Yang snagged his hand as she ran by, dragging him along to… somewhere.
The nature of the class he found himself in was not what he had been expecting. It was not akin to his lessons with Logan, with hours spent discussing the interworking of Soul Sorceries, questions on the diameter of the Crystal Soul Spear and how the newly formed crystals would throw off the balance of the focused soul energy, forcing him to loosen the thickness. Nor was it like his lessons with Laurentius or Quelana, a more introspective, relaxed setting that was him learning and simply being guided by a mentor. What one discovered themselves always imparted the best lessons; that had been Laurentius's belief, at least.
If he had to place what the class reminded him of, it was that of the very, very few times all his companions had been united around Firelink, sharing their own tales of what they had encountered in Lordran, from Siegemeyer's thrilling tale of besting a black knight to Laurentius speaking on his journey to the land of ancient lords itself.
Of course, opposed to it being a more well-rounded set of bonfire tales, he and the professor were the only ones speaking. Sibyl somewhat doubted most of the other students in the classroom would have anything interesting to share. They were all children, not hardened warriors.
"Really, Mr. Sibyl? You disagree?"
He was forced to nod. The professor was not wrong, per se, but his actions had been reckless and perhaps more reliant on luck than anything. Then again, such a description would fit for most of his own tales.
"Largely, oiling oneself up bare naked, whilst a sound strategy against a horde of snakes which rely largely on restriction, puts you in a terribly exposed position should anything else show up. Even against a mere Beowolf, any huntsman could slip up and find themselves vulnerable." He didn't mention that under no circumstances would he ever do such a thing, nor call out that Professor Port's tale seemed far-fetched. It was half the fun of such stories, after all.
Peter stroked his mustache, intrigued. "Hmm. In the end, life is but a game of risks! As huntsmen and huntresses, it is our job to take these risks in order to protect those who depend on us!"
Sibyl nodded. "You're quite right. Bravery without a dash of recklessness is hardly bravery at all."
"Such wise words. They remind me of a tale from my youth. Why, when I was as equally handsome back then as I am now, I was instructed to…"
Sibyl half paid attention, half roamed the thoughts of his own mind, never once letting the Professor know he wasn't giving his full focus on the tale. He asked a few mindless questions here and there, as was polite to do. None liked to be ignored, and should he ignore Port now and not interact, then he could hardly expect to be given respect if he ever felt like sharing his own tale. Head forward and attention split, he took to seeing how those around him were feeling with a shifting of his eye.
Yang was unfocused on the lecture, instead keeping a hand under her desk and, judging by the way her face was scrunched, attempting to conjure her flame. He could admire the dedication and resolved to assist her more later. There was definitely a bit more peace within him now, not being the only pyromancer in this world. It was a beautiful art, and he didn't believe in keeping such things to himself.
The only thing next was to teach his sorceries. Glynda would be one of his students, simply because she was incredibly useful and seemed intrigued by them if the way her eyes lit up every time he dared to cast one was an indication. Still, only teaching one person his sorceries seemed wasteful.
Pyromancy was different – far different. The bond between student and master in pyromancy was a special one, given the nature of how one passed on a piece of their very own flame. Sorceries were more practical, and from what Logan had told him, often taught in larger groups. Still, he wouldn't be teaching more than a few students, both because he had things himself to worry about, and secondly, he had no experience teaching!
He still was not entirely sure if Yang was a wise choice. While not explicitly stating he would teach her prior to the night before, they had danced around the subject. Given that he had to teach someone regardless, he figured her to be a fine enough choice. She had cared enough to check on his well-being, even, so it was a step-up from most others at this academy he might teach.
Regardless, he was still thinking on who to choose as other possible students. His eyes naturally drifted to Blake and Weiss, the former who seemed just as bored as the rest of them, but at least was trying to not appear so, and just failing miserably. Weiss… she was taking notes, but something seemed to be distracting her.
Judging by how Ruby was balancing her notebook on a pencil, a sort of inkless pen which he was very glad to now possess, he was inclined to think she was the one distracting Weiss from the tale their teacher was weaving.
He hummed lightly, unsure what to think.
"…the moral of the story is that a true huntsman must be honorable, dependable, strategic, well-educated, and wise!" Peter announced, eyes scanning the class and recapturing Sibyl's attention. "Mr. Sibyl! Would you like to demonstrate these traits in action? I can see you're already armed, so it will save us some time."
Shrugging, Sibyl rose to his feet with a stretch, moving out from his desk to the floor below and unsheathing the Balder Side Sword he had scrapped on to his hip before leaving. "The wear is somewhat unseemly," he explained, not liking how tightly his clothes hugged him as he settled across from the cage where a Grimm rattled threateningly inside, "but I once found myself behind bars with little more than a loincloth and wits to my name, forced to fight my way out past serpent guards. I'll be fine."
Peter laughed, "O-ho, I'll have to hear the details of that story later. For now, I want to see these skills of yours in action!"
"Let's go, Fireball!" Yang cheered, pumping a fist.
"Yeah! Go Sibyl!" Ruby followed up, electing a small sigh from Weiss.
"Do well, Sibyl," was her less than enthusiastic cheer.
"Are you ready?"
The undead nodded. Peter didn't waste a second thereafter to slash at the joint of the cage, allowing it to fall open. What rushed out was a boar, one far smaller and less armored than the iron-plated ones he was used to dealing with all throughout Lordran. His eyes studied what parts of it were armored, mostly just being the front and the top of it.
Its tusks would be more difficult than those of the iron-plated boars, but he would be allowed far more openings to attack from. Rolling aside as it charged at him, he waited for it to turn around and charge at him again. He sidestepped this charge, thrusting with his blade into its exposed side.
It roared in pain, attempting to strike him with flailing tusks. He was left on the back foot for only a second as it continued to flail; as its head went low and struck up. He waited for its jaw to be raised before kicking it with his full strength. It was sent skidding across the room, staying down for a moment before shaking its head.
Blinking, Sibyl watched as it balled up and began to roll at him, something he had long ago developed a tactic to deal with. Sliding his foot back and moving his palm forward, he waited until it was feet away to channel a Great Combustion from his hand, the fire exploding against its form and sending it onto its back.
Leaping forward and raising his blade, he brought it down overhead through the stomach of the beast, rendering it dead.
It took him a few seconds to realize those around him were speaking words of encouragement. His focus naturally went to Peter.
"Well done, Mr. Sibyl! I can see you're well on your way to becoming a fully-fledged hunter."
Sibyl inclined his head, pushing off the body of the beast beneath him and tearing his sword out forcefully. "I always enjoy discovering new beasts to slay," he announced, flicking his blade but realizing there was no blood to remove. Shrugging, Sibyl returned it to its sheathe. "O-ho! So do I, my boy! Until such a time, though, class is dismissed. Be sure to cover all assigned reading."
Right, the readings. He had been having a remarkably hard time keeping up with what was in his book, thus why he had simply shut it and decided to listen.
Well, their class had gone by quickly. Sibyl moved back to his seat, retrieving the bag he had been given before deciding to find Weiss and speak with her on the possibility of learning Soul Sorceries. That, and… well, given how he was struggling to understand some of the text he was reading, it seemed prudent he got someone to help him. The Schnee seemed to be a reasonable option, all things considered.
He needed help understanding it, and he dared not go to Yang for reasons which were a bit beyond him.
Scanning for the white-haired heiress, he couldn't find her, nor could he find Ruby. The two had certainly rushed out, it seemed. Sighing softly, he waited patiently as Yang approached him, Blake following a bit behind her partner.
"Sibyl!" She greeted, "Please guide the flame again. I can feel how close I am, but I'm just missing something!"
Blake blinked, looking between the two of them in confusion. Sibyl took Yang's hand with his own, moving his palm beneath hers and beckoning the flame. She summoned her candle-sized flame, the conjured fire flickering unsteadily before she managed to calm it. He waited a few seconds before removing his hand, watching to see if her flame would fizzle out quickly or not.
It lasted a few admirable seconds, but no longer than that. The blonde cursed in anger, stomping a foot and glaring at her open palm as if her gaze would cause it to come back. He rolled his eyes.
"…what was that?" Blake questioned, eyes shifting between the both of them.
"It is pyromancy, and Yang is my student. No, it is not a Semblance. Yes, I can teach others how to do it."
The black-haired girl closed her mouth as Sibyl finished speaking, nodding slowly. He spared Yang a glance, who was stubbornly attempting to re-conjure even a spark of her flame. "Well, at least I hope I can teach. Yang will be the answer."
"Oh, don't you worry, Fireball. I'm going to figure this stupid fire thing out."
"I'm positive you will, Yang." He cleared his throat, giving a nod to their professor who was watching their interactions with a raised brow. "I am attempting to find Weiss to offer her a similar training proposition," he began, barely able to get a few words out before Yang interrupted, stopping her attempted conjuring.
"What? Her? The hell you going to teach her for?"
It was a rather… aggressive view towards Weiss. He certainly hadn't found her too unpleasant, so surely her teammates…
It didn't matter. "I believe her to be inclined towards the Soul Arts."
Yang narrowed her eyes at him briefly, before scoffing. "The only thing she's inclined towards is being a bitch, you know."
Blake nodded softly too. "She has been… difficult since we've met."
Sibyl ignored the words. "Perhaps. I would prefer to judge myself, however, so if you do not mind." With a nod of the head, he dismissed himself, pushing past the two ladies and towards the door.
"We still have classes," Yang interrupted, grabbing him by the hand. "Don't want you to get lost. Can't it wait?"
He sighed. While he would have preferred for them to get started sooner rather than later, it could wait, and he didn't have the energy to fight Yang on it.
Classes, Sibyl decided, were simply dreadful. He had attended one more that day, as apparently they wouldn't always have the same number of classes each day, though first-years were quite standardized in curriculum. It lasted around two hours, much as Peter's class had, and had come after he ate a quick lunch, managing to find Lady Goodwitch during that period, but not Weiss. The good news was he had more than a few hours of sunlight; Glynda would be arriving outside his room in an hour, and he would teach her and Weiss at the same time, assuming the Schnee heir accepted his proposal.
Finding Weiss was more difficult than he would have preferred, but he eventually managed to do so, with the heiress sitting alone on a courtyard bench. She didn't say much when he opted to sit next to her, removing his sheathe to do so and setting it in his lap. She gave him a small look and a nod, but little else. Humming, Sibyl debated whether to strike his offer now or later. As he stared at her with a side-long gaze, he realized that perhaps a bit of prep work was necessary.
"…are you well, Weiss?"
It wasn't the right thing to say, apparently, because the Heiress turned to him, eyes narrowed and face scowling. "What do you think?"
"I hardly know what to think, Weiss. Everything here is so… odd to me. You, Yang – even that blasted rectangular device which woke me up this morning, blaring."
She blinked, her face losing some of its anger. "…An alarm clock?"
He nodded. "The name will suffice."
Weiss didn't say anything for a few moments, sighing before turning her head to face him. "Where are you from, anyways?"
"A place better left forgotten, where dreams and man alike go to die." He closed his one good eye slowly, leaning back against the bench. It was as apt a description one could make for Lordran, but perhaps he should be more careful with his details. Then again, they all thought him to come from the Badlands, didn't they? It hardly mattered what he said. "So, no, Weiss, I do not know what to think. I do not know why you seem to be upset at Ruby, nor why you refuse to be upfront with me on just what is wrong?" These people… he was only beginning to realize he just couldn't understand them. They wouldn't put aside their differences like he was so used to, because they weren't one of maybe the remaining twelve sane souls in an entire land.
They were… normal. And he wasn't.
"…it's Ruby. I just can't believe she was chosen to be team leader – over me, even! She refuses to pay attention in class, instead doodling and just… wasting her time! Does she not realize what Beacon is? I came here because I thought it had high standards, and I'm beginning to think that was a mistake."
Sibyl shrugged. "Perhaps it was, but it all sounds very… petty to me, no offense intended." Judging by the look on her face, she was offended. "You claim her to be a child, yet within a day of knowing her, you assume to know all there is about Ruby Rose. To you, she is ignorant and childish, refusing to take things seriously. To me? She spoke up to me, of all people, when I was infuriated by that damn Deathstalker, talking sense into me and bringing us all together instead of leaving me alone to face down such a beast. She is courageous and kind, not to mention observant."
He paused, giving a moment to let things sink in. "People are complex – far more so here than where I hail from. I'd suggest giving her time; she may surprise you."
Weiss was silent in the wake of his words, staring at the ground below. Hopefully his words did something to calm her. To be frank, he didn't want to deal with Yang being angry at him teaching Weiss, who in turn was rude to Ruby. Gods – Lordran really was a lot simpler than this place. "But, enough of that! I have been instructed to teach my soul sorceries, and I would like to take you on as one of my few students."
She was entirely confused at his offer.
"You recall the large, teal arrow I shot during initiation?"
Her mouth formed an 'O', and he watched her eyes light up. "I can- you can teach that?"
He nodded, satisfied she seemed thrilled at the prospect. "Indeed. Well, hopefully – I've never taught anyone before."
Weiss stood with a smile, as did he. "It sounds… pleasant. Who else will be learning with us?"
Glynda had been in a great many situations before, some dangerous, some awkward, and a great many more simply weird. Yet, despite her years of experience, this was new grounds for her; she had never been taught something by a student, who was also teaching another one of her students. Yes: Sibyl had decided on teaching both herself and Weiss Schnee the so-called Soul Arts, and while she was very grateful to be chosen, it didn't change that the situation was weird. At least her attempts at buttering him up, as Qrow might say, had worked splendidly. She preferred not to think of it as manipulation, simply because she wanted her students to be as prepared as they could be. She would have done all she had done regardless of his ability to teach such extraordinary abilities... probably.
It was a bit odd he was teaching them in his room, though, and she noticed with no real feelings that it was barren.
Nothing hung on the walls, and she couldn't see anything which wasn't standard issue except for his chest. He was standing over that chest, actually, pulling out more than a few catalysts and staffs. He didn't seem to realize she already had a catalyst, though she hesitated to correct him on picking them out. Mostly because she was curious at how he kept getting them out of that chest, and secondly, just how many did he have? Weiss seemed to be having similar thoughts to her, as her eyes continued to widen when Sibyl pulled out another staff which simply should not have fit inside the chest!
Clearing her throat, Sibyl glanced back at her, eyebrow raised. "...if you don't mind, how exactly are you getting those out?"
He laughed lightly at her question, beckoning both herself and Weiss forward. "Yang had quite the similar reaction." He paused for a second, breathing softly. "My teachers always believed mutual trust was required for a student to flourish. I can hardly spit in the face of what they believed, so when I show you this, I do expect you two to keep quiet about it, understood?"
They nodded, Glynda a bit more hesitantly. It depended, but she would always do her best to respect his wishes. If it was something truly dire, however, she may be forced to inform Ozpin.
"This is a bottomless box, one created with magic which is so far beyond me I don't even bother to wonder on it."
Weiss couldn't help herself; she scoffed. "A bottomless box? That's impossible."
It certainly sounded impossible, but Glynda didn't question it. If Sibyl claimed it to be a bottomless box, then she would believe him.
The boy shrugged, stepping aside and allowing her and Weiss to look inside. "It is able to expand freely, from the size of my hand to… well, as large as you see in front of you. I hold more items within it than could fit in this very room." The Schnee heir reached in with her hand, grabbing something and attempting to pull it out. Emphasis on attempt, because whatever it was had to be heavy. Sibyl stopped her before she could fall into the box, and he grabbed whatever she was trying to lift with ease.
Glyda found herself blinking. It was a greatshield, made entirely of… stone? Very, very thick stone, that she could tell, and it was wrapped in chains. "Ah, yes. Havel's Greatshield. It can withstand nearly anything, provided one has the strength to wield it."
That was all well and good, but truth be told, she didn't understand how the hell it was in that chest.
"…It really is a bottomless box?" Weiss muttered, electing a nod from Sibyl.
"Again, it's best not to think too hard on it."
Glynda spared a glance at Weiss, who seemed to be doing precisely that – thinking hard on it.
Her strange, one-eyed student took a moment to set Havel's Greatshield back in the chest, dropping it without worry. "Now," he began, completely ignoring how Weiss was still staring at the strange box with a dangerous glint in her eye, "what I have laying on my bed is the assortment of all catalysts which I possess."
It was quite the collection, she'd admit, but… "Mr. Sibyl, I already have a catalyst for my very own Semblance." She reached down and retrieved it, adjusting the riding crop she preferred to use to its full length. He hummed, holding out a hand to inspect it. She allowed him to after a moment of hesitation. A Huntress's weapon was her lifeline, after all.
He scanned it carefully, running a finger down its side before pointing it at the ground, eyes unfocused as he did some sort of silent cast. She watched as the same blue arrow he had shown to her and Ozpin shot out from the tip, crashing into the ground before exploding. It caused a small amount of damage, but nothing too severe. She likened it to someone swinging a heavy hammer against the floor.
"Hmm. Well, imagine that." He handed it back to her, turning his attention to Weiss. "Then it seems you have the full choice, Weiss! Pick any you like; I'm rather attached to the ivory branch catalyst, as its small size helps given how many weapons I typically carry."
It made enough sense; he already wielded typically large weapons, and he had that talisman at his hip, too. Glynda was simply glad her catalyst would work for the odd magic he was going to teach. It would stop her from being more… predictable during combat.
Weiss scanned the catalysts in front of her, eventually settling on a wooden one which was roughly waist-to-head long. She grabbed it, giving it an admiring view before turning to Sibyl with a nod.
However, he seemed quite tense as he stared at it. He took it from her briefly, hand squeezing against the wood before he sighed. "A fine choice, Weiss. This catalyst belonged to my teacher, and truth be told, I can hardly hold it without getting sentimental."
He handed it back over to the Schnee, but she refused to take it, shaking her head. "I can't. It's clearly important-"
Sibyl forced it into her hands. "Weiss, please. I can't bear the thought of Logan's catalyst – his second most prized possession, behind maybe his hat – rotting away in my bottomless box because I'm too much of a coward to wield it."
Glynda frowned lightly, filing away his words. She was beginning to form something of a picture with regards to Sibyl's past, and none of it was pleasant. He didn't seem too… upset about any of it, oddly. More resigned if anything. Hopefully he might share more with them in the future, but she wasn't going to force any details out.
"…well, if you insist."
He smiled, a genuine one, and nodded. "I do. Now, the both of you have catalysts, but we won't be using them immediately. To cast sorcery, one must be able to comprehend what it is we're casting. It is the opposite of pyromancy in that manner. Pyromancy is all instincts and feeling; sorcery is knowledge and structure." Glynda nodded, lowering herself to the floor as Sibyl did the same, taking a cross-legged position. Weiss followed the example a moment thereafter.
"Before anything else, allow me to explain a few things." He took a deep breath, his one, grey eye switching between her own two and Weiss's pair. "Consider all three of us equals. I am here to teach, but as Seeker Logan once told me, nothing is a better learning experience than teaching. No question you ask is a foolish one; the only foolish question is the one you allow to remain unanswered." He let the words sink in for a few seconds, and she couldn't help but admire them, actually, because they were more mature than what she expected form one so young. "Lady Goodwitch, I understand you have age on both myself and Weiss, as well as being a teacher for the both of us." She nodded. "That being said, do not think it matters here. As far as I am concerned, Weiss is to treat you as a peer."
They both shared a look, Weiss seemingly somewhat intimidated by the prospect. Truth be told, Glynda wasn't sure how to approach it, either. She was not the instructor in this place, however, and so she would follow the rules he laid out.
"Excellent. Now, I will try to recall what I was taught, both by Griggs, but more so Logan, so you two can comprehend the groundwork for sorcery.
"Sorceries are the soul manifested in perhaps its purest form. They are versatile and powerful, and none are more feared in life and combat than a master of them. Casting sorceries depend on two things: one's own comprehension, and the structure of the spells themselves. Each spell has two parts, guided by…"
Glynda couldn't be positive how long they sat on the floor of his room like that, mostly talking about soul sorceries and Sibyl answering any questions herself and Weiss may have had. He was… very good at explaining things, actually, and she found her comprehending things earlier than she expected. They had spent the early part of the lesson simply making an attempt to form a sort of blue energy at the tip of their catalyst, and once they had done that, Sibyl delved further into his explanations.
Sorceries were comprised of two parts: structure and composition. Before one could form the structure of a spell, one had to understand what they were doing. It was not a simple internal visualization; it was all the intricacies of the visualization. To cast a simple Soul Arrow, Sibyl had explained, required one to understand it was their soul energy, tightly compacted together and shaped. They had to know the soul would always want to disperse, and unless they focused on keeping it shaped intently, it would simply explode in their face or travel less than three feet. There were more details, how it wasn't just their soul they were drawing on, but the souls of the world. It was an energy in the air, unseen and unfelt unless in the most enchanted of places. They couldn't just imagine it existed; they needed to know it did, much in the same way they knew that gravity existed.
Given that Aura and Semblances existed, it wasn't too hard to do so.
Other spells would have different compositions, he had explained, but they would get to that later. That was all they did: talk. Sibyl answered any questions they had on just how the soul functioned, what it was drawn to, and how it formed.
"Sibyl, how does one shape the souls, though?"
He stroked his chin in response to Weiss's question, thinking on a good way to describe it. "Much the same way we shape anything, Weiss. A blacksmith pours molten steel into a cast, thus forming the shape of a blade. He then pounds out the finer details, sharpens the edges, until he deems it perfect.
"We take the energies around us, or even our own soul, and shape that. Opposed to a physical cast, of course, we shape it in our mind. It is why you must be very exact in your visualization. Simply imagining an arrow of souls as one might imagine a ball of fire for pyromancy would not be enough – one must know the exact parameters around each spell. The length, the diameter, where most of the energy is to be focused, and so on. If not, it can have disastrous effects."
He let the words settle as Weiss took some notes, and in fact, so did Glynda. "It is why forming new spells is so difficult. It requires countless hours of experimentation, and while comprehension and knowledge of how soul energy generally wants to function helps, the art itself can be inherently unique from cast to cast. One might think both Soul Arrow and Soul Spear function similarly, yet they are near opposites. Soul Arrow's energy is focused near the front, balled up so as to carry the cast forward. It is why we concentrate the form so heavily; it is a weaker cast, and thus more prone to disperse, as souls are always drawn to other souls.
"Soul Spear, however, is a larger cast which requires more energy, with all of said energy flowing from the back and sharpened in the front. The energy is not as tightly compacted except at the front; we only lightly thicken it, so the soul magic can move forward after impact and really deliver its damage. It is designed to pierce,then explode, while the arrow is more akin to a blunt hammer, despite its name.
"Even more interesting is when we get to things such as Fall Control, which involve using a soft cover of souls to cushion your joints and bones. Perfecting that cast was... quite painful," he admitted, grimacing.
Sibyl stood with a stretch, gesturing for them to do the same. He walked over to his bed, grabbing two scrolls – and she did mean actual scrolls, as in old bundles of parchments. He handed one to both of them, smiling lightly. He seemed to be enjoying this as much as the both of them, truthfully. "Inside those scrolls are the exact parameters and structure behind the basic Soul Arrow. Unlike pyromancy, sorcery starts off quite easy and gets far, far more difficult. I would ideally like the both of you to be able to cast this within a few hours."
He went over to his bottomless box, retrieving Havel's Shield once more and placing it up against his dresser. "Now, you can cast against this shield as practice."
Glynda and Weiss both shared a look, nodding. The tenseness between them had dissipated quite quickly after they both began asking questions, and for that, she was grateful. Glynda unfolded her scroll, reading the details with intrigue. And, really – it did have exact measurements, from diameter to length, thickness and more. Well, exact perhaps wasn't the right word.
For thickness, it was likened to an iron pole: rigid and unbending. She was left wondering how they would ever know if the thickness was correct, and she asked Sibyl that exact question. He chuckled, raising his one visible eyebrow. "Well, Glynda, if it doesn't explode in your face, you can only assume it was correct. It is also a combat spell. We might never feel it, but whoever we're facing will."
It was a good enough explanation, though she still had some questions. Shaking her head, Glynda reread the instructions. It took dozens of attempts – and God, did she feel very foolish when she waved her catalyst and nothing happened, before something did happen. A teal arrow shot out, making it about halfway to the shield before dissipating into the air.
"…that's impressive. Your very first semi-successful cast already has such a clear form. It took me hours to get to such a point," he admitted, scratching at the back of his head. "Then again, Griggs had to teach me damn near everything; I didn't even know what 'diameter' meant at the time!" He laughed, electing a small smile from Glynda.
Weiss, too, let out a quiet laugh, one with both relief and frustration in it. Relief that Sibyl had taken so long to get it done, and perhaps frustration that Glynda had done it so quickly. She decided to ease both of their worries. "The shaping process is very similar to my own Semblance, so perhaps that helps."
He nodded, turning his attention to Weiss.
The Schnee Heiress held her catalyst up again, staring at the tip of her catalyst to try and assist visualizing. They could see as the blue energy was slowly molded into shape. A moment later, she attempted to cast Soul Arrow again; it went about a foot before disappearing entirely, the form very different than what was needed.
Sibyl watched her stare in frustration before taking the catalyst from her. "Perhaps you need to see a clearer example. It certainly helped me."
She watched, too, knowing there were many different aspects to learning and it would likely help her as well. He held the catalyst, casting the spell in an instant. She noticed that his was simply… brighter? It was mostly the same shape as hers had been, though it was more clearly defined, went further, and actually impacted against Havel's Shield.
It was just bursting in energy; its impact was greater than what she imagined hers would have been. Weiss requested he cast it again, and he did so, this one an exact replica. It was the difference between what she'd seen of his pyromancy. The fire was much more fluid, and she had observed differing sizes based on his anger and more. Taking a moment to stare as the blue energy dissipated, the young sorcerer handed the catalyst back over to Weiss. She nodded in thanks before turning towards the shield once more, taking a deep breath.
Her next cast was much better in shape, though still a bit off. It did make it remarkably close to Havel's shield, though. Sibyl clapped, impressed. "Marvelous. I suspect you two are much more inclined to this art than I ever was!" It was another surprise about him. She had guessed he might be a bit bitter with how quickly they were coming to it, but he truly did just seem happy. And, if she were honest, she suspected the reason they were learning this faster than he had was due to Vale being a lot more… advanced than wherever he came from.
It was not an indictment against him; he certainly seemed intelligent enough given what he likely had been working with. The next hour went by in peace, Weiss and Glynda slowly perfecting their casts with some guidance from Sibyl, mostly on how to focus their souls in their casts and how to condense it. Both of their Semblances helped in that regard. In the end, after she had more-or-less perfected her cast, Glynda attempted twenty more with Sibyl's one, careful eye watching. He deemed all but two of them just a bit off.
Still, two was enough for him to be mostly happy. Of course, that was mostly happy. She was made to cast it five times in a row with the perfect form before he deemed her to have the basic composition of the spell down.
Weiss was only a few steps away from completing hers, mostly having trouble on forming the blunt tip of the Soul Arrow. Regardless, she had done a splendid job. If she put equal effort into all of her classes, Glynda suspected she would enjoy having the Schnee heiress at Beacon for the next four years.
"That is enough for tonight. Glynda, I would keep practicing your cast until it can be done in under a second. As it stands, you take around seven to simply focus the energies into shape. The same to you, Weiss, after your cast is complete. Feel free to seek me out if you have any questions; once either of you have reached the minimum cast time with proper form, find the other and assist her. When you are both ready, we can begin your next lesson."
It seemed they were dismissed, then. She nodded in thanks, preparing to leave before she remembered something. "Sibyl," she spoke, having been corrected midway through their lesson she didn't have to refer to him as 'mister' all the time. She had extended the same courtesy in response to his Lady Goodwitch addresses. "I believe it would be prudent to unlock your Aura immediately."
Weiss looked between the two, brows scrunched in confusion. "He- he doesn't have his Aura unlocked?"
Sibyl nodded. "I'm afraid so. I never even knew such a thing existed until recently, when Glynda explained it to me."
Yes, she had explained it very briefly… to be frank, he didn't really need to understand what Aura was to take advantage of it.
"Well, if you believe it to be best," was Sibyl's response.
She nodded, moving forward and placing a hand to his chest. She took a deep breath before beginning, "For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee." She could feel her Aura drain rapidly, damn near half of it being what it took to just unlock his Aura.
He smiled softly as the Aura overtook him, a grey hue visible all over his body-
Then he stumbled, catching himself on her and clutching at his eye. She said nothing when he grabbed her wrist, squeezing and damn near breaking it, only stopped by a focus of her Aura. Weiss watched in silence at his struggle. A few seconds passed before Sibyl took a deep breath, releasing Glynda and standing straight. "F-Forgive me. It… flared up, I suppose."
The witch of Beacon couldn't help but frown at those words. "It's fine. Are you fine now?"
He nodded, shaking his head and clearing whatever leftover thoughts were bothering him.
"Yes. Oh, before I forget, I have a request. It's… well, really, it's quite embarrassing," he explained, sheepish, "but I am having trouble reading some of the text within our books. It's nothing too bad – mostly the language is the same as what I learned, but there were a decent amount of words which I have no idea on what they mean."
Glynda hummed thoughtfully, not too surprised. "I would suggest a dictionary." At his confused face, she elaborated. "A dictionary has the definition of words within it. If there is something you do not understand, you can look it up."
He 'oh'd, lips quirking in a smile. "Great! Then I bid the both of you a good night."
As they prepared to leave, the door was thrown open, Yang Xiao Long storming in. She really did have too much in common with her uncle...
"Fireball! C'mon, I need some more help-" The blonde blinked at the sight of both Goodwitch and Weiss. Her demeanor changed near instantly. "Oh. Oooh, Fireball, you were having a good time with these two beauties and didn't invite me!?"
Sibyl groaned, running a palm down his face. "What did I do to deserve this, Velka?" He questioned with a mumble.
Glynda ignored Yang's statement, instead giving a brief nod of her head before leaving through the door. Weiss? She was left a stammering mess, explaining just what they had been doing. It was… amusing, but the proclaimed Witch of Beacon most definitely did not crack a smile as she shut the door. No, certainly not.