A/N: It has been awhile since I've had time to work on this. I apologize for the wait. This is the last chapter to this current story arc. After this, I'm going to wait to see how the rest of volume 4 turns out before continuing with the next arc.
For the first scene of this chapter, I listened to Fate/Stay Night Unlimited Blade Works 2014 song: "Vortex of Fate." From the start to 2:20. While working on it.
For the third scene of this chapter, I listened to the second half of the song(2:20-4:31). While working on it. Helped me to finish the scenes, give it a listen while reading those if you want, for added effect ;)
Ok time to wrap this arc up(No pun intended.)
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Violet dust crystals on the stone ceiling provided an eerie glow to a basement held up by stone pillars. Pitch-black fluid completely covered the floor and the distant growls of grimm could be heard in the corridors beyond. A slender lady with pale skin and a long black dress strode across the room. To a bystander, she looked like she glided across the fluid covered floor rather than walked. Red veins spidered across her face and arms and red-black eyes gazed at the room's only other occupant with such an intensity even the most steel-willed of humans would have cowered.
Salem studied Alice's unconscious form, strapped to a throne that was made from bone. Vein-like tendrils were attached to the back of the throne, their bases planted in the dark fluid that covered the room. Salem frowned at the contraption, with her daughter's heart destroyed this was the only way to sustain her life and it would be far from painless.
The setbacks to her plans had piled up one after another. First Cinder had failed to take down Beacon from within and then she found and lost Salem's own daughter, all in one night. To add insult to injury, the partial owner of the Fall Maiden's power had also suffered a major injury to her throat and it was not known if she would ever speak again. The only consolation Salem felt was that the altered were still giving the kingdoms a lot of trouble
But she wanted more than that, she wanted the four kingdoms in ruins.
The pale-skinned woman extended her left hand towards Alice. She would not tolerate any more failure, she would not lose to the wretched race of man and their unbridled arrogance. She would break them down piece by piece, and she would have her revenge.
And it would start by getting her daughter back, one way or another.
Salem's crimson eyes flashed and the dark fluid travelled up the tendrils attached to the back of Alice's throne. When the fluid reached the throne, Alice's eyes popped open as she spasmed upright, screaming a terrible scream that echoed throughout and even beyond the lair.
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Beacon's courtyard was bustling with the activity of huntresses and huntsman. Most were walking at a brisk pace to get to their destination, while others were downright sprinting to reach a bullhead in time for their missions. Some having just completed one mere hours before. The place had become less a school for hunters and more a staging ground for missions. Richter watched it all from a distance, sitting under the shadow of a tree near the outer edges of the courtyard.
A week had passed since Turthus and he was still getting used to seeing so many people again. Of not seeing dimly-lit rooms full of tortured souls or forests full of grimm. The fact that he could actually let his guard down had become an alien feeling.
Thanks to Glynda Goodwitch and General Ironwood, he had been able to regain a human appearance with Atlas technology and a bit of Glynda's magic. They could do little however to reverse his altered transformation. Even if he looked normal on the outside, the monster still lurked within, nothing would probably ever change that. It was just something he would have to deal with.
Once again he was dressed in his huntsman attire, though slightly varied, black jacket with grey lining, two ankle-length twin tails of fabric stretched out on the back of it. Grey pants and black shoes covered the lower half of his body. It felt odd to be wearing his old clothes again, like it was from another lifetime. In his hands was an old, but cherished handheld portable game console that he had had since a child. His fingers flicking across the buttons as he played a 2D platformer.
Richter sighed, this was normal, it was how he had done things before when he was at Signal. It was the same and yet, it was different now. He paused the game as the weight of his thoughts came barreling down on him, his eyes staring listlessly at the screen, for god's sake, he had consumed a dragon, could he really go back to a life like this?
Arms wrapped around Richter from behind him. "Hey." The all-too-familiar voice of Ruby Rose spoke, her tone soft.
He felt his previous thoughts of crushing doubt being swept away. "Hey yourself." He replied, reaching up to squeeze her arms with his right hand. "I'm surprised your uncle let you off your training."
"Professor Ozpin's sent him on another mission, so I got a bit of free time now." She revealed.
The two young hunters sat in comfortable silence for a good few minutes. Richter drew on Ruby's warmth like a drug. She was the only thing keeping him from bolting away from this place as far as possible. Eventually, he unpaused his game and began playing again. Ruby watched the tiny screen silently from behind him.
"I can't believe you still use that." She finally broke the silence, lifting a red eyebrow, "You know you can get way better looking games on your scroll now right?"
Richter snorted, "It's about the gameplay, not the graphics. Besides it's the only gift my mother gave me before taking off." He spared Ruby a slight smile, "Thanks for keeping it."
With her arms, Ruby gave him a reassuring squeeze. "When I thought you died, I wanted something to remember you by, something tangible you know?" The cloaked huntress chuckled. "Every time I look at that I see you in class at Signal, pretending to take notes while playing that instead. I'd have to throw my pencil at you to get you back to paying attention."
"Replace pencil with bowling ball and you'd be accurate." Richter responded without looking up from his screen.
"I was going through a phase!" Ruby exclaimed indignantly. "I thought being a professional bowler would be cool!"
Richter smirked, "You must hold the record for the most gutter balls in all of Remnant."
Ruby's response was to pout, "Not my fault they make those aisles so darn narrow." The cuteness of her expression distracted Richter, and he ended up dying in game. She chuckled as he let out a mild curse.
Both of the young hunters' scrolls suddenly started beeping as the alarms they had set for themselves went off. All humor dropped off of Ruby's face. "We should go. The burial service is soon."
Richter let out a long sigh as he stood up, "Yeah…"
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The Arc family had gained enough renown from previous wars and conflicts to have earned their own section at Vale Cemetary. It was here that Jasmine Arc was to be laid to rest. Her coffin, silver with the family crest emblazoned on the top, was surrounded by family and friends who knew her in life.
The turnout was more than what Jaune expected. Apparently, his sister was pretty well-liked. It did little to ease the pain that welled in his stomach though. He lost count of the number of people who came to him offering condolences and prayers, none of them really stuck out to him, their faces a blur in his mind as his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
Jasmine had suffered immensely at the hands of Cinder Fall, Emerald Sustrai and the rest of their little cursed crew. They had wounded her grievously, both physically and mentally for one whole year and she still managed to die with a smile on her face, even as her own brother was the one who delivered the killing blow. That image of her smiling face had stayed with Jaune ever since, even now if he closed his eyes he would see it. Sleep was nigh-impossible at this time.
Ren, Nora, and even Pyrrha were at his side during the whole service. Team JNPR was finally back together again, but the joyous moment was severely dampened. Pyrrha kept squeezing his hand in reassurance and he squeezed back gratefully. Having her here with him now was a great boon. Ren and Nora too, he never imagined he would have friends like this when he first entered Beacon.
Ruby and her team also showed up as well as almost everyone at Beacon academy. Even Cardin Winchester came, which was a mild surprise, but as mean as he was, he wouldn't wish the death of a loved one on someone. Ruby had told him that Richter was also watching the service, albeit from a hidden place. The former huntsman still wasn't comfortable with reintegrating into society.
Violins kicked up, signaling the final part of the funeral service and the lowering of the coffin into the ground. Before that however, Jasmine's greatsword would be laid to rest on top of the coffin as per Arc tradition. Jaune looked down the path to see his father with Jasmine's weapons in his hands, his face seemed to have added a few more wrinkles since he had last saw him. He looked tired, like someone had dropped a truck on his shoulders.
As his father neared his position, Jaune felt emotion surge through him. He felt like he was being tugged by invisible strings as he stepped up to his father, partially blocking his way to Jasmine's coffin.
"Let me lay the sword to rest." Jaune blurted out.
James Arc's eyes widened slightly in surprise, before narrowing to sharp edges. "No. The laying of the departed's weapon falls to the one who is going to shoulder the burdens they had in life. You would know that if you paid attention to your lessons for more than five seconds Jaune."
"I'm well aware what the tradition is." Jaune hissed. "All the more reason I should be the one to do it."
The elder Arc scowled at his son. "You don't know what you are asking…."
"I know exactly what I'm asking!" Jaune suddenly roared, silencing everyone at the funeral. The younger Arc took a deep breath to calm himself down. "You weren't there for Jasmine's last moments, I was. I know EXACTLY what I'm asking, so let me do this. Please."
For a brief moment his father looked like he was going to scold him in front of everyone, but instead he sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Very well." He said, holding out the greatsword for Jaune to take.
The young Arc took the weapon without hesitation, it was heavy, but thanks to his training it wasn't something he couldn't handle. Slowly, steadily, he made his way to Jasmine's coffin, keeping his eyes forward. If he made eye contact with any of his friends, with Pyrrha, he might lose his resolve.
He placed Jasmine's weapon atop her coffin after what seemed like an eternity of walking. A Eulogy was delivered and people said their final farewells to his sister and then left. Jaune never moved from his spot in front of the coffin, his eyes on the greatsword, but his mind miles away.
Jasmine's last expression as the life faded from her, Cinder and Emerald's arrogant expressions. They kept cycling through the mind's eye of the young Arc, and he felt his blood begin to boil. They couldn't get away with this, he wouldn't allow it.
A warm hand on his right shoulder stirred him from his thoughts and he looked to his right to see Pyrrha's green eyes looking at him with concern. He responded by placing his right hand on top of hers and nodding slightly. Hours must have passed since he zoned out as the sun was now disappearing over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the cemetary. A quick glance around showed that everyone was gone, except for Pyrrha and him.
And one other.
Standing tall behind him, his hands resting atop his cane, was professor Ozpin. Beneath his curtain of silver hair was a solemn gaze aimed at him.
"I'm so sorry for your loss Jaune." Ozpin stated.
"Whatever you need, we're here for you." Pyrrha added.
Jaune looked at Jasmine's coffin, remembering the better times. The times where the worst thing he had to worry about was defeating her in video games. When he held illusions about becoming a great huntsman.
All that had shattered though, when he had to run Jasmine through to save Turthus. The life of a great huntsman would not be glamourous, he realized that now.
But there could be no turning back for him.
"In that case." He finally spoke up. "What I need is for you to stop lying to me, Professor Ozpin." The young Arc turned to face his teacher, to find that he older man wore no shocked expression on his face. "I need you to tell me what it was we saw in Turthus, and what we're really dealing with."
Professor Ozpin reached up with his right hand to readjust his glasses. "Very well."
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A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has read this story, I hope you have enjoyed it.
I may do some short stories about Team STRQ's younger days while I wait for volume 4 to finish. Depends on if I have the time, which is at a premium atm with the holidays.
Speaking of which, happy holidays everyone! Hope everything goes well for you all.
