I do not own RWBY or make any money from this work of fiction. RWBY is owned by the good people at Roosterteeth.
Chapter 3:"Weep Not For Me"
Huh. What's that whistling noise? Ozpin looked up just as the first bomb dropped onto the building across the street.
With a sound like the world's largest metal balloon being popped, the aerial bomb exploded as it hit the stones of the building. Ozpin watched in horror as the bomb sent shrapnel, stone and mortar, flying all over the street in front of Ozpin, shredding pedestrians and burying them alive in the rubble.
As he watched, dumbstruck and terrified, more bombs dropped from the sky. Looking up again, Ozpin saw fighter jets with the symbol of the Mantle Royal Air Force, a dove carrying a spear and paintbrush in its talons, fly over the city.
What's going on? Mantle was supposed to be on her knees, thought Ozpin in a panic. With a horrible realization, Ozpin watched the jets flying in from the east. The slums! Oh gods!
Finally shaking off his fear and indecision, Ozpin took off at a dead sprint towards the slums . . . only to make it three feet before another aerial bomb fell a dozen feet in front of him and detonated on impact with the concrete.
The force of the explosion knocked Ozpin off his feet and blew him backwards into another stall. The wood of the stall was weak, which was probably for the best, considering he went through it, crushing cabbages and rutabaga under his back and keister.
Dazed, Ozpin's vision swam and his ears rang as he tried to orient himself from the aftermath of that last explosion. Why . . . Why am I not dead?
Looking down at himself, Ozpin saw a thin, translucent, skintight layer of green light cover his chest. At least, that's what he thought he saw. His vision was so blurry that for all he knew that green film on his chest was a bunch of cabbage leaves.
Groaning, Ozpin tried to push himself up on shaky arms, only to slip on a rutabaga. His head smacking the concrete, Ozpin's vision exploded with stars. Grinding his teeth, he dug deep into his quickly dwindling reserves of energy, and pulled himself up on the edge of the stall. I hate this day. I hate it SO much.
Finally getting to his feet, Ozpin leaned himself on the broken table as he tried to catch his breath and get his head to stop spinning. Looking around the plaza, Ozpin was horrified to see the craters in the streets, the broken and crumbling buildings, the fires and the smoke.
But, worst of all were the people. Thanks to the bombs, there where pieces of them scattered across the streets, with even more buried alive under collapsed buildings. As he watched, one man was pulling at an arm trapped underneath a pile of rubble that once used to be a boutique. Further down the road, a little boy was crying out for its parents, holding onto a toy plushy of an Ursa. And even more people where running around aimlessly, calling out for friends and family, or just screaming hysterically. Once Ozpin's hearing had fully returned, he realized that the ringing noise he had been hearing over the cries of the people around him wasn't the ringing caused by the bombs explosion, but the ringing of the recently built air-raid sirens.
Staggering away from the broken stall, Ozpin ran towards the slums, weaving his way between craters, fires, and human chokepoints. All the while, the smell of smoke and burning flesh singed his nostrils.
Gods, please be ok, please be ok! He chanted in his head as he witnessed more and more devastation.
XXXXX
Panting, Ozpin's lungs felt like they were on fire. Looking around, Ozpin came to a staggering halt only a few feet from his home. With what little air he had left in his lungs, he screamed, "Cherise! Val! Where are you guys?!"
Looking around, he could barely hear anything over the screaming and the roar of the fires. And I thought the city was bad. Here in the slums, the devastation was even worse, due to the proximity of all the tents and people. Fires raged everywhere, spreading fast over the tarps and ropes used to hold the makeshift houses together.
"Ozzy! Ozzy, over here!"
Following the voice, Ozpin found Cherise, Valentina, and her friends, behind their house. One of the sheets of metal holding up their tent had fallen on Valentina, pinning her to the ground. Trying to pull her out from underneath it where Cherise, Ming, and Zia.
Stumbling over, Ozpin said, "Cherise, move over! I'll lift it up, you pull her out!"
Squatting down, Ozpin grabbed the edge of the sheet metal, being careful to watch out for the serrated edge. While the sheet metal wasn't extremely thick, it was heavy enough to pin down Valentina, and he was exhausted from the pain he was in and the mad dash he had made to get back here.
"On three," said Ozpin. Bracing himself, and taking several deep breaths, Ozpin said, "One, two . . . three!" Heaving upwards, Ozpin strained to lift the sheet up. Cherise quickly dashed in and pulled Valentina out. Coughing and wheezing, Cherise cradled Valentina to her chest as she knelt on the ground. Groaning, Ozpin took a step back and dropped the metal. It hit the ground with a resounding thud.
Taking a few more deep breaths, Ozpin turned around to look at the four girls and said, "We need to go to the evacuation bunker. It's in the residential district, near Mayeur's Cathedral. Where's mom?"
Still coughing, Cherise took her attention away from Valentina and turned around to look at Ozpin. "She's still inside the house."
Turning around, Ozpin said, "I'll get her. You keep the kids calm."
As he approached the tent, another explosion could be heard in the near distance, and a flaming piece of wreckage came flying through the sky. It smashed into their tent, setting the tarp on fire.
"NO!" screamed Cherise and Ozpin simultaneously.
Knocking the flap aside, Ozpin ran inside, only to have a fiery piece of rope smack him right in the face. As he reeled from the pain of his face catching fire, Ozpin felt the world slow down, as if he was moving through syrup. And then . . .. Ozpin blinked as he found himself outside the tent. Next thing he knew, a flaming piece wreckage came whizzing through the air to once again crash into their tent. But Ozpin was already in motion, rushing into the tent before Cherise cried out, "NO!"
He once again had that feeling of moving through syrup. To his surprise, he saw what looked like a holographic version of himself catching fire as he was hit by a flaming piece of rope. Ducking under said rope, Ozpin moved past the strange see-through version of himself. His breathing came out in horrible, vicious gasps. He felt as if he couldn't get enough air into his lungs, and he felt more exhausted than he ever had before in his entire life.
Stumbling around as the world moved at a snail's pace around him, Ozpin pushed through the syrup-like air to find his mother setting in her wheelchair, as dead to the world as always. As he moved to push her chair out the way they came, a hand gently reached up and wrapped around his wrist.
Looking down in shock, Ozpin peered down into the face of his mother. Dorothy, pale and gaunt, an older version of his sisters, looked back at him, but not with the vacant stare that she had been giving her children for the last four years. In her eyes, he saw complete and utter recognition.
Rising from her chair, she barely reached mid-chest level on him. Raising her other hand, she placed it on Ozpin's cheek, and with tears in her eyes said, "My beautiful boy. Oh, how much you've grown."
Ozpin was beyond stunned. Looking around the room, he saw that the tent flapping in the wind and the raging fires burning it were all still moving in slow motion. Turning back to his mother, Ozpin asked, "How . . . how are you moving? It's like the world's slowed down. How are you even standing? You're so thin."
Smiling at him, his mother wiped her hand across his cheek. Her hand came away wet. Ozpin didn't realize he had been crying.
"That doesn't matter right now." Tears flowing down her own cheeks, she cupped Ozpin's cheeks with both hands. "Sweetie, I am so sorry I haven't been the mother you and your sisters needed. With your father gone, I should have stepped up and done what you've been doing this entire time: supporting this family."
Smiling through her tears, his mother continued on. "I am so proud of you and your sisters; for all the sacrifices you all have made. You're all so strong and caring. I don't think I could ever ask for better children. I love you all so much."
Ozpin started to sob, sniffling and choking back tears. "M-m-m-mom? W-why are you talking like you're this? Like you're leaving?"
"Because, sweetie, I . . ." she stuttered, glancing quickly behind him before looking back to her son. "I . . . need to go join your father now."
Turning around, Ozpin saw a piece of flaming metal almost half the size of their tent burning through the rest of the tarp, slowly making its way through the air towards the both of them. Spinning around, Ozpin grabbed his mother and began to pull her away from the flaming hunk of metal. But in that moment, Ozpin's felt his exhaustion spike, and he lost the strength to hold on to her. It felt like his mind snapped like a rubber band, and the next thing he knew, the world seemed to be moving at regular speed… matching his own.
Last thing he remembered was several tons of flaming metal crushing him and his mother, her voice ringing in his head. "I love you all. And I am so sorry that I am abandoning you to this life."
XXXXX
Ozpin blinked. He was once again standing outside the tent, listening to his sister's cry of "NO!" as a flaming piece of wreckage found itself crashing into their tent.
His body felt terrible, like he'd been both set on fire and crushed. But looking down at himself, Ozpin saw no signs of his injuries. His skin, while grimy, had no burn marks, and if he really had been crushed he doubted his bones would be in a good enough condition to allow him to stand.
Looking back up, Ozpin could see two strange, solid-looking versions of himself through the holes in their tent: one of them had his head on fire as a flame-ridden piece of rope wrapped itself around his head, and another version of himself was trying to pull their mother up out of her wheelchair. Blinking in surprise, Ozpin watched as this strange doppelganger ran towards him, and the tent flap, with a very real version of his mother. Looking behind his clone, he could see that their mother's wheelchair was indeed empty. Wait . . . What? But then that means . . .. Ozpin's horror grew to new heights as he saw a shadow starting to form on their burning tarp right above where his mother and his doppelganger where.
Realizing what was about to happen, Ozpin rushed forward. He was almost within arm's reach, arms outstretched to grab his mother out of this clone's hands. But he was too slow.
The mammoth piece of flaming wreckage crashed down on his mother and clone.
The force of impact blew Ozpin backward and out of the tent. Landing on his back, the impact jarred him to the point that it felt as if all his joints were about to pop out of their respective sockets.
As Ozpin lay prostrate on his back, staring up at the sky, it seemed like the flames grew brighter, almost completely white. In fact, he could have sworn that a sprinkling light jumped out of the fire, but he couldn't see where it went.
Groaning, Ozpin pushed himself up onto his elbows to look at the wreckage of their home. What greeted his eyes was nothing more than a warped, flaming pile of ropes, tarp, and metal.
"No," he whispered. "No, no, no! NO! MOM!" Sobbing, he continued to cry out for his mother.
"Ozpin! OZPIN! I need you over here!"
Turning away from the flaming wreckage, Ozpin stumbled over to Cherise. Huddled up next to her were Ming and Zia, holding onto her dress, trembling in fear. "Where, where's my mommy?" asked Zia. Ming just sat there in silence, trembling.
Stumbling up to them, Ozpin knelt down next to them and ruffled Zia's hair. "I don't know," he whispered. Looking at Cherise, he said between tears, "We need to go."
Swallowing hard, Cherise stared back at him, unshed tears shining in her eyes. "Something's wrong with Valentina. I think she's unconscious, and I can't carry her very far." She didn't say anything about their mom or their home, and Ozpin couldn't blame her. If he didn't focus on the here-and-know, he was going to breakdown and die in these slums.
"Ok, ok," he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to pull himself together.
"Ming," the little girl looked up at him as he said her name, "I need you to climb on my back, like when your papa gives you a piggyback ride." Sniffling, she nodded. Letting go of Cherise's dress, she slowly climbed up on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Zia, I need you to climb into my arms." Nodding, she let go of Cherise's dress and placed herself in the crook of Ozpin's left arm and wrapped her arms just above Mings'.
Looking at Cherise, Ozpin said, "Put Val on my other arm. Zia, when Cherise puts Val on my arm, I'm going to need your help to hold her in place. Can you do that for me?" The little girl nodded her head bravely as Cherise approached him. As Cherise placed Valentina in the crook of Ozpin's right arm, Zia snaked her left arm around Valentina's hips, holding her in place.
Taking a deep breath, Ozpin stood up with his charges and nearly toppled over. While living in the slums had toughened him up some, his body was still more scrawny than lean, and between the bombs, the running, and whatever the hell happened in the tent, Ozpin was exhausted. But he needed to get these girls and the remainder of his family to safety.
Taking another deep breath, Ozpin asked Cherise, "Do you know where the underground bunker is?"
Nodding, she said, "Yes, underneath the old cathedral on St. Cyr Street. I'll lead the way, you just worry about holding onto those three." Turning around, she set off at a light jog towards the city, Ozpin hot on her heels.
XXXXX
As they made their way through the ravaged city, Ozpin was glad to see that the residential district of Vale hadn't been hit as hard as the rest of the city. While there were still a few craters in the streets and houses on fire, there were no collapsed buildings and no bodies in the streets, most likely due to the fact that most people were at work or school.
Ozpin was honestly surprised. Not by the state of the city (he was trying to do his best to keep his mind off of that), but by Cherise. By this point, she normally would have been coughing and wheezing after having ran for so long. Instead, her breathing was strong and steady. On the other hand, he was barely hanging in there.
Luckily, he didn't have to suffer for much longer. Following Cherise around a corner, Ozpin almost cried in joy at the sight of the cathedral.
He honestly didn't understand why it was called a cathedral. It was barely taller than the two to three story homes surrounding it. Between its size and the fact that sermons to the Mistral god of harvest, Dagda, where held here, it really ought to be called a church.
Stumbling through the front doors, their party was surprised to see that the room was almost empty. Up by the altar stood the priest. At least, he stood by where an altar should be. From where the crossing, all the way to the apse, should be was a cavernous hole with huge stairs leading down. Each step was as wide as the entire crossing.
The priest came towards them. He wore a black cassock and a brown vest, with a design of vines and trees running up and down the stitching of the vest. As the priest stepped out of the shadows of the apse to approach them, Ozpin could make out his features. Old and withered, the man had stark white hair and sallow skin. Yet despite his obvious age, he moved rather nimbly around the edge of the stairs to confront them. Concern written across his elderly face, he said, "Children, where are your parents?"
Fighting back a sob at the innocent question, Ozpin didn't want to explain to this stranger that he and his sisters where orphans, especially considering that Ming and Zia must be terrified over the fates of their own families. So, before his sister could say anything, he said, "We don't know. Once the bombing started we came straight here." He didn't want to talk to this stranger, or anyone for that matter. He could barely keep himself from bursting into tears as he opened his mouth to talk to the priest. He knew his voice was tinged with bitterness and grief from the sidelong look Cherise gave him, but he honestly couldn't care if he was being rude. At this point, he just wanted to go to sleep and wake up the next morning, only for all of this to have been a dream.
Nodding his head as if he could sense Ozpin's internal grief and conflict, the old priest pointed towards the stairs. "If you follow these steps, they will lead you to the evacuation center. From there, you will take trains to travel to Mountain Glenn, where things appear to be safer. Unlike here in Vale, their anti-air assault guns seem to be fully operational."
Ozpin couldn't bring himself to say anything, not even so much as a thank you to the priest. He was relatively certain that the next time he opened his mouth he really would break down into a gibbering, sobbing mess. Instead, Cherise thanked the old priest on their behalf.
Finally kneeling, Ozpin let Ming and Zia crawl off him to stand on their own two legs. Now that they weren't running for their lives, he could afford to let them down so that they could walk at the children's pace.
Standing back up with Valentina in his hands, Cherise bit her lower lip in concern and approached her brother. "Ozpin, maybe I should carry Val."
Ozpin began to protest, saying that her health wouldn't support Valentina's weight, but Cherise cut him off. "Ozpin, you look like you're about to topple over. Let me hold her. I'll be fine. I don't know why, but my condition hasn't been acting up at all. Seriously Ozzy, give yourself a chance to rest."
Looking down at Valentina, passed out in his arms, Ozpin couldn't help but picture in his mind himself carrying Valentina down the stairs, tripping on one of the steps and sending them both tumbling ass-over-teakettle into the darkness.
Sighing, he passed Valentina over to Cherise without a further word of protest.
Herding the children and Cherise down the stairs, Ozpin was picking up the rear of their little group. For that reason, he was certain he was the only one who heard the priest say, "May the gods and High Oum bless you all with peace and prosperity."
P.S. Remember, don't be a hater, but be a CONGRATULATOR! And please leave a review, comment, or positive piece of criticism. Cause honestly, any kind of feedback helps me to understand what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong.