Hello everyone!
Not much to report today.
I'm feeling pretty well-rested and full of ideas. I also saw we hit over 200 favorites and 300 follows! Thank you all!
I figure by the end of this story it should be in the ballpark of 40-60k words at my current rate.
I do have a question for you all, though.
Once I finish this story, what else would you like to see from me?
I'll probably stick to RWBY for a handful of stories, but who knows.
Also i don't do harems, sorry.
Onto the story!
Sevres was drowning in flames.
Salem was the first to reach the burning village. She had never been more grateful for her water magic affinity.
Through a combination of wind and water magic, she managed to quell a large portion of the blaze before it could reach the surrounding forest.
Jaune and Ozma rushed into the village to look for survivors.
The duo ran around the corner only to be met with an all-too-familiar sight.
Grimm.
A handful of Beowolves, to be exact.
Not nearly large enough to cause a fire of this size.
They were quickly dispatched by the pair of knights
Salem caught up to the two men. "I've stopped the fire from spreading," she said. "What now?"
"Divide and conquer," Jaune ordered. "I'll head to the village center, you two fan out."
Ozma and Salem nodded in understanding.
The trio split up without saying another word.
Ozma had fought many Grimm during his time serving with the Emerald Knights.
He knew that wherever the Grimm were found, destruction was soon to follow; even still, he'd never seen a targeted attack on a village like this.
At first he'd thought that Sevres might have just been an unlucky village that the Grimm had stumbled across, but as he ran through what could only be described as the charred remains of the poor village, he noticed something peculiar.
No matter where he looked, there were absolutely no signs of any valuables.
A worrying thought had crossed his mind; had someone led the Grimm here?
The thought was sickening.
No person with even a shred of honor would ever do something so vile.
The only reasonable excuse Ozma could think of was bandits. That left a poor taste in his mouth.
Ozma's mind sharpened as he heard a woman scream. He quickened his pace.
As he turned a corner, he saw a woman and two children being chased by an Alpha Beowolf.
He was quick to intercept the grimm before it could cleave the woman in half.
Ozma grew increasingly concerned with each passing moment. If an alpha was present, did that mean its entire pack was here as well?
The brown-haired knight cursed, "Killing the alpha is more important right now."
The stunned alpha was quick to recover; it charged at him with a relentless flurry of swiping attacks.
Ozma managed to parry its attacks save for the final one, which just barely scraped his cheek.
using his staff to amplify his magic, he pierced the large beast with a powerful burst of wind magic that tore a fist-sized hole in its chest. It stumbled for a moment before fading away into nothingness.
Ozma turned his attention back to the three terrified civilians. "You are safe now," he spoke in a calm voice. "Head to the hill overlooking the village, my comrades and I shall clear the village."
The woman hesitated for a moment. "Go to the village center," she said. "That's where they're holding the others." Bandits, he thought. It was just as he had feared.
Ozma nodded, "Understood, go now. We shall save your people."
He watched as the woman and her two children ran.
Truthfully, he was worried about his traveling companions.
Ozma knew Salem was extremely gifted with magic, but he wasn't sure if Salem actually had any combat experience. If she was forced into open combat, he feared that she may be grievously injured.
There was also Jaune. He was worried about him for completely different reasons.
Ozma didn't doubt his fellow knight's skills for a second; he might not use offensive magic, but he more than made up for it with his skill with a blade.
It was for that very reason that Ozma was worried; he feared that, if pushed, Jaune might paint the village red.
Salem was initially nervous when Jaune had ordered the group to split up.
She didn't doubt her skills at all. Salem proudly admitted that she was one of the best magic users in the land.
She was far more concerned about applying her expertise to battle.
Even before Salem was imprisoned, she had never gotten into a fight—with humans or otherwise.
She knew the theory of it, but she'd never had to use lethal force in her entire life.
Salem scanned his sector from head to toe, but she found nothing.
No bodies or personal items.
a growing sense of weariness ate at her.
She continued forward and finally found what she had been looking for.
Salem was too late.
The scene she stumbled across was a group of three Beowolves tearing a man to shreds.
Salem was horrified.
Seeing a poor innocent man being torn limb from limb by creatures of pure destruction was enough to make anyone vomit; not Salem though.
She was paralyzed; no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't look away from the harrowing sight.
Salem reeked of fear. The Beowolves were drawn to her like moths to a flame.
Time seemed to slow down for Salem as the three Beowolves jumped at her. In that moment, Salem felt a myriad of emotions, but it soon became clear to her which emotion was the strongest.
Utter disgust.
These beasts were repulsive.
Disgust quickly turned to anger, and anger to boiling rage.
"Enough." She outstretched her hand and uttered "Disappear filth." Salem channeled her dark magic into a dense laser of absolute obliteration, reducing the incoming monsters to vapor.
Salem stood in silence for a full minute before her mind caught up with her.
She felt sick.
Salem began to drift to the center of the town.
Jaune would know what to do. He always knew how to cheer her up.
Jaune's path was the least eventful of the trio.
It took him only five minutes to reach the center of the large village.
The plaza was quite an open space; it was a circular area with a large tree situated at its center.
As Jaune got closer, he heard a woman speaking.
"Where did you hide it, old man?!" The woman's voice was sharp and rigid. She didn't speak with the same accent as Ozma and Salem.
Jaune peeked his head out to get a better look at the situation.
Four men, one woman, twenty hostages, five dead - not ideal, but he could work with it.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, savage," the short, old man angrily replied. For a man being held at sword-point, he seemed quite confident.
"The artifact! Tell me where you hid it, or I'll order my friends here to off another one of your precious villagers." Jeez, this woman was like a cheap knockoff fusion of Raven Branwen and Cinder Fall.
What a horrifying thought that was.
The old man remained silent. The angry brunette was growing impatient; in Jaune's experience, angry psychopaths had a tendency to get murder-y very quickly.
Jaune chose to step in. "I'm gonna have to ask you to drop the old man, miss." He drew Crocea Mors. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to respect your elders?"
The brunette did not like that.
"Well, would you look at that! Geezer," she said with a snide voice. "You've got your very own knight in shining armor."
The man looked as if he had been personally blessed by the Brothers.
The four other bandits slowly surrounded him, each muttering insults like the goons they were.
Jaune didn't care.
The war against the Grimm Queen, whom he refused to call Salem anymore, had taught him a great many things. One such thing was how to gauge an enemy's strength just by looking at them.
By Jaune's estimate, the only threat was the brunette.
"Well boys," she said, sizing him up, "I wonder just how valuable that sword is." She licked her lips. "Then again, a royal would pay an even higher price for a blonde-haired, blue-eyed slave."
Jaune didn't react to the bait, though if this woman thought for a second she could touch Crocea Mors, he'd be more than happy to introduce her to the business end of his ancestor's sword.
"I'm flattered, really," he decided to stall for some time, hoping Salem and Ozma would reach him. "We've only known each other for a few minutes, and you're already fantasizing about me."
Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say. The bandit leader seemed to enjoy his response. "Such a quick tongue," she said with a rather questionable smile on her face. "I wonder what else it can do."
Gods damnit.
Why was he a lightning rod for psychopaths?!
The woman didn't take his disgust too kindly. "Kill him," she ordered, "some goody-two-shoes knight won't stop me."
Jaune sighed, "You really don't want to do this." In the latter days of the war against the Grimm Queen, he had been forced to fight many human opponents. He hated killing. "Drop your weapons and I'll let you live."
The Tetrad of Absolute Tools each pulled out their weapon one by one.
Message received.
As the first of the moron brigade moved to attack him, Jaune ducked under the man's swing and impaled him through the chest.
As the man's body slumped, Jaune used the poor man's remains as a meat shield against the trio of incoming attacks.
Each of the three remaining bandits had a unique weapon: one had a spear, one had a knife, and the final man had an axe.
Jaune chose to attack the man with the spear first. The man, useless in close range, was quickly dispatched with a slash to the abdomen.
He blocked an incoming attack from the axe-wielder with the guard of Crocea Mors and delivered a devastating punch to the man's gut.
The final man charged at Jaune just before he could finish off the axe-wielding bandit. Due to the bandit's incredibly short range, Jaune removed his hand before he had the chance to attack. Jaune also removed his head to prevent him from feeling any pain. A small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless.
Whoever said murder could never be kind?
He finished off the last man with a quick slash of his throat.
Jaune was oddly disappointed.
Hearing the word "bandit" just generates a certain image of a rugged warrior, but all he saw were four unfortunate men.
Besides, none of them could match the unbridled might of Shay D. Mann. Jaune would never find that name unfunny.
The brunette bandit watched in shock and horror as her crew was killed. "You fucking animal!" she screamed, launching a large stream of fire at him.
Before it could reach him, a wall of stone appeared in front of him. Jaune looked to his left to see Ozma rushing onto the scene.
"I suggest you calm down, madam," he spoke in a relaxed voice as he moved to stand alongside Jaune. "My companion is not known for his patience."
The brunette bandit growled and drew her sword. Jaune responded in turn by shifting into a more agile stance to attack.
Ozma stopped him "Jaune, wait! You can't attack her!"
Jaune adopted an extremely deadpan expression. "Ozma, she picked up a sword."
Ozma's brow furrowed. "Do you intend to rob her of an arm as well? You can't harm a lady."
Jaune huffed in annoyance. Now really wasn't the time for this. "Why not?"
Ozma looked as though he were about to strangle Jaune, "Because she's a woman."
Jaune rolled his eyes. "I'm an equal opportunity ass-kicker; I don't care."
The Brunette Bandit interrupted their bickering with another flurry of fire magic, this time an ember hit Ozma's hair and set it alight for a moment before Ozma quickly stamped it out.
Jaune, sensing an opportunity, offered his hand to the now extremely annoyed Ozma. "So, wanna kill her now?" Ozma didn't hesitate for even a second. "Let's bury this wench."
Moral of the story? Ozma's hair is a sacred temple that must not be disturbed, lest you face the punishment of death.
Before the duo of Knights could get a chance to attack the bandit, a large blast of water hit the woman and sent her flying. To his right, he saw a very angry Salem standing atop some rubble.
The brunette bandit, now seeing that she was outnumbered and outgunned, wisely chose to retreat. "I will find that magic artifact," she said, "and when I do, I'll come back to kill you, old man."
The old man in question appeared to be entirely unbothered as he watched a woman who had just vowed to kill him turn heel and run.
Jaune sighed. This entire day had been an absolute mess.
Salem began to approach the duo, but was interrupted by the short old man shooting forward and pulling both Jaune and Ozma into a tight embrace.
Both men were extremely confused.
"Thank you, brave knights!" the old man exclaimed with tears in his eyes. "If not for you, our village would have been no more."
Neither of the two men knew how to respond to such aggressive praise.
They stood there awkwardly for a moment before Ozma slowly patted the enthusiastic elder on the back. "You're welcome, sir," he said. "It is just our duty as Knights to protect the people."
Luckily for Jaune, and unluckily for Ozma, those words shifted the entirety of the old man's attention to the brown-haired knight, giving Jaune just enough time to slip away and move towards Salem.
"Are you all right?" he asked softly. She looked absolutely miserable. "Did something happen?"
She ignored his question entirely and stared down at his chest. "You're covered in blood," she said quietly. Worry spiked in Jaune's gut.
Jaune looked down to judge the state of his armor; there was a large splash on his chest plate and tiny marks on his arms. Like any reasonable person, he said the first thing that came to mind: "It's not mine."
Damn you people skills! How dare you abandon me now?!
Salem's eyes began to drift away from him, but Jaune stopped her by cupping her cheeks and gently forcing her to look at him. She didn't need to see the carnage he had left behind.
When he saw her face, he realized what was wrong. She wore the same expression he once had after having been deployed in a particularly bloody battle in Vacuo. There was something deeper as well.
Even if she had been absent for the better part of a decade, these were still her people. She must have felt as though she'd failed them.
"It's all right," he tried his best to soothe her worries. "You aren't at fault for what happened here."
Salem stared into his eyes for what felt like an eternity before speaking again. "That woman... she's the one responsible for this destruction, isn't she?" Her voice had gained a dangerous edge.
Jaune hesitated and nodded. This was an incredibly delicate topic to broach with a woman who had a high capacity for violence.
Those vulnerable ocean eyes that had been staring into his soul froze over into chips of ice. "I want to kill her," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "No one shall harm my people and live to tell the tale."
A small smile crossed Jaune's face. When Ruby had first told him of the vision Jinn had shown her team, he'd refused to believe that Salem could have ever ruled as a benevolent queen. But now, in this moment, he finally understood.
Salem would grow from a naïve princess into a beloved queen through her travels, and by the time she took the throne, she would rule as a queen beloved by all her people for her deep compassion.
"We'll hunt her down," he promised. "But now isn't the time for that. Now is the time to help your people."
Salem's eyes shifted over the very few remaining citizens of the once proud village of Sevres. They looked so small, so scared; she wanted nothing more than to help them.
and so she did.
Jaune and Ozma watched from a distance as Salem spoke to each and every survivor, bringing a little light back into each of their downtrodden faces.
Ozma wore a rather vacant expression. "Lady Salem really is a wonderful woman, isn't she?"
Jaune flinched, Ren used that exact same phrase when he spoke about Nora. Jaune had been quite confused when he'd met Ozma, he was under the impression that Ozma and Salem had one of those love at first sight moments in his first life. However, the two had barely spoken since they met. In this life however, it seemed as though Ozma would just blindly follow Salem like a lost puppy.
In that moment, Jaune realized something horrifying; had his intervention caused the entire future to shift?
Damage control time.
"So you've got your eye on the princess, huh?" Jaune playfully wrapped an arm around Ozma's shoulder. "You sly dog."
Ozma's face turned a bright red as he shoved Jaune. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he hastily responded.
Jaune laughed at the poor, flushed man. "You mean you don't want to be her knight in shining armor?" he teased. "The Grand Emerald Wizard Ozma and the Resplendent Princess Salem. Just like a fairy tale."
Ozma's face burned even brighter. "Shut up!" was his rather childish response.
Their conversation ended as Salem and the old man he had saved approached them.
Salem placed a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "The Mayor of Sevres has some information for us."
The old man stroked his impressive gray beard. "You plan to search for that girl, yes?" The old man sat cross-legged on the ground. "Sit," he said, "and allow me to tell you the story of a woman named Eris."
That's all for today, folks!
I'm not sure if any of you picked up on it back in Aegis, but I decided to theme each town's OC's names on mythology. In Sevres, the names will be based on Greek Mythology. In Aegis, the names were based on Norse Mythology.
In this chapter I also introduce a new facet of magic, magical artifacts!
I'll expand on these more in the future, but I decided to add them in to give Magic some more variety.
Also, if you caught the reference in this chapter, I'll give you a cookie.
That's all for me today.
Leave me a review and let me know what you think!
Until next time!