Chapter Ten: Welcome to Beacon
Friday morning… Vale General Hospital…
Oscar woke up early feeling almost normal for the first time in over a week. His chest no longer ached with every breath – only when he pushed himself a bit too hard walking around. The bruises and lacerations on his face, arms, and legs were healed and fortunately wouldn't leave any scars, although the same couldn't be said for the burn on his chest.
When Dr. Ashburn had unwrapped his bandages yesterday to check on the healing of the burn, Oscar had seen just how badly Salem's magic had damaged him. The skin was red and swollen looking, puckered in some places with raised white lines like a starburst pattern radiating outward from the center of his chest where the magic bolt had struck him.
"Will it always look like that?" Oscar asked, feeling somewhat nauseous as he looked at the scarring.
"Some of the redness and swelling will go down with time and treatment," Doctor Ashburn said as she studied the healing wounds. "But the burn was severe enough that you did lose some flesh there, and in other places your clothing was melted into your skin, and we had to cut it out so that it wouldn't cause an infection. The uneven lines where the skin has been joining back together will always be there, most likely."
"Will aura healing help it at all?" Oscar wondered, hoping the answer would be yes. He wasn't sure how he felt about the idea of his body being so badly scarred. It was something else that had been taken out of his control and that didn't sit well with him after everything that had happened since Oz had bonded with him. It was also a sign that Salem had marked him – and that wasn't something he wanted to think about at all.
The doctor let out a thoughtful hum. "It may," she said. "I suspect whatever effect aura would have on it would be dependent on how much you work on it and how strong your aura is, but I doubt the scarring will ever fully go away." She very carefully rubbed some burn cream over his skin with a gloved hand. "I would advise speaking with someone who knows more about aura healing than I do to be sure. I know enough to treat Huntsmen and Huntresses, but I'm a doctor first and foremost and most of my patients don't know anything about aura healing."
Ozpin would help him, surely, Oscar knew. After all, who better to know about such things than an ancient wizard who had been around since aura and Semblances were first discovered?
The bandages were back around his chest to protect the burns and keep them from rubbing up against his clothing, so at least he didn't have to look at the markings that Salem had left on him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, carefully. He was still favoring his ribs a little, and some of his more severe wounds were still healing, even with aura, and the last thing he wanted to do was tear them open again and prolong his recovery – but he could get out of bed and tend to his own needs without a nurse being in the room, and that was a huge relief.
Ozpin had been trying to make an effort to come by the hospital for at least a brief visit every day that week. After what he'd said on Sunday, there had been no further discussion about where – or rather when – Oscar was from, and no mention about the things he knew. Instead, the visits had been more amiable. Ozpin had questioned Oscar about his combat skills and academic knowledge, wanting to get a feel for how much training Oscar would need. They'd discussed the books that Ozpin had loaned him to read, and Ozpin had related a few rather humorous stories about people he'd known in previous lives.
It had felt… normal. Almost like it had in the beginning when Oz had first bonded with him. Then, once Oscar had begun to accept that Oz wasn't just a figment of his imagination, the old wizard had often told him stories about his past lives, just in an effort to try to make a connection with him. But it was also different now, since the weight of the knowledge that Oscar possessed still hung over him and its influence was there, even if Oscar hadn't told the Headmaster anything yet.
According to the arrangements that had been made, Doctor Ashburn would be making her rounds soon and she would make the final decision on whether or not Oscar could be discharged. If she said yes, then Ozpin would be coming by later this afternoon after his classes to pick him up and take him to Beacon.
Oscar was of mixed feelings about the whole situation. On the one hand, he was past ready to leave the hospital. The food was bland, it was impossible to get a full night's sleep, with nurses coming in to check on him several times each night, and the bed was not comfortable in the slightest. He was used to working and being active and being stuck in bed while he healed had made him twitchy and nervous as his desire to do something turned into pent-up energy he couldn't release.
On the other hand, it was Beacon. Oscar had mixed feelings about the Academy specifically. He'd heard Ruby and Jaune and the others talk with fondness about their time as students there. Nora had loved telling the story about their fight during the four-vs-four round of the Tournament and how she'd punted the entire opposing team off the field with Magnhild to end the fight, much to the amusement of the others. Oz had definitely had strong feelings about the Academy he had led. Part of him felt like he already knew all about the Academy and going there would be like coming home, but the other part of him knew that walking onto the campus for the first time would likely be intimidating. He'd had similar feelings about Haven and Atlas, due to the number of times Oz had visited both Academies since they were founded, but those feelings hadn't been as strong as the ones the old wizard had felt whenever Beacon was mentioned.
He knew he wanted to be a part of this fight now even though he still wasn't fully comfortable with the idea of the soul merge. Although the things that Oz had told him when they'd been Salem's prisoner had helped to alleviate some of his fears, everything was different now. He wasn't even sure if the things that he knew would be enough to make a difference at all. It was entirely possible that even with the best forewarning he could give Ozpin, it wouldn't be enough, and that scared him. If Beacon fell again, and Oz bonded with him again… would anything he might have done or anything he knew be enough to make a difference? If he couldn't save Beacon, what chance did he have to save Haven, or Atlas?
He squeezed his eyes shut. No, he was not going to think like that. He was going to stay positive. If it wasn't possible to change the events he knew, then what was the purpose in him being sent back like this? There had to be a way to change things.
"Good morning, Oscar."
His eyes flew open, and he looked to the door of his room, where Doctor Ashburn was standing. He hadn't heard her coming, he'd been so intent on his own thoughts. "Good morning," he replied.
"How are you feeling?"
"Almost normal," Oscar reported. "My chest doesn't hurt nearly as much as it has been this week."
"That's excellent," she replied. "Let's take a look then and see how you're doing, hmm?"
"Yes!" Oscar agreed eagerly, before coughing a little as his still-healing lung protested the force in which he gave his answer. He wanted out! Her answering chuckle told him that she understood exactly where his eagerness was coming from as he turned to face her so she could begin her daily check of his healing wounds.
Ozpin's Office… Beacon Tower… Friday… mid-morning…
"Is today the day?"
Ozpin blinked, startled out of his thoughts by the sound of Glynda's voice. He hadn't even heard her terminal beep to signal her request for access. When he hadn't responded, she must have used her override authority to come up anyway.
"I'm sorry?" he asked, trying to follow the reasoning behind her question. He'd heard it, but it hadn't made any sense.
"Is today the day you'll be bringing Oscar here?" she clarified. Her ever-present tablet was cradled in the crook of one arm as she tapped on it with her other hand. Even though she seemed to be focused on it, he knew her better than that.
"Oh, yes. Well, it was supposed to be," Ozpin amended with a frown. "Doctor Ashburn did call and said that he could be discharged later this afternoon, but she wants him to undergo one more session with his aura to try to stabilize his ribs a little more."
"So what's the problem?" Glynda asked. "I thought you were both looking forward to his arrival."
"The Council," Ozpin said with a sigh. Glynda wasn't wrong – he had been looking forward to bringing Oscar to Beacon – if only so that they could finally start getting some answers about what the boy knew.
He hadn't wanted Oscar to think that his only value to Ozpin was the information he carried. He didn't want the boy to feel like he was being used. Instead, over the past week, he'd made a point of visiting the boy and trying to find out about him as a person – the sorts of books he liked to read, what life was like for him on his farm, his family. On some topics, the boy had been happy to discuss his opinions at length, but there were others – usually anything involving his family – he was strangely reluctant to talk about.
If the boy was his next incarnation – well, it provided Ozpin with an incredible opportunity to try to make the merging process easier on both of them. Not only did the boy know something of what to expect from before he was sent back, but if they could really get to know one another, hopefully Oscar would be more accepting of what awaited both of them. He wanted to build trust between them, in the hopes that the boy would feel he could confide in Ozpin about whatever was bothering him.
"What does the Council have to do with anything?" Glynda asked with a frown.
"They've pushed up the meeting time," Ozpin replied. "We were supposed to meet this evening after dinner, but they want to meet less than an hour after my last class."
"They have that much to discuss that they couldn't wait until the normal meeting time?" Glynda's face was one of deep disapproval. "They do know you may have responsibilities to the Academy and that the meeting times were set for a reason?"
"They know," Ozpin said, a sour note in his voice. "I have no doubt that Councilman Russet is behind this after the way I dismissed his call on Sunday so I could meet with Oscar and the detective from the Vale Police Department. The rest of the Council is united behind the idea of an earlier meeting time, so unfortunately I'm not able to overrule them without pulling rank – and I don't particularly want to invoke the authority I built into the Council system in the beginning when it was established. Not for something this minor. But it means that I won't be able to fetch Oscar today. I don't have much more time before my classes begin today, and then the meeting."
Glynda nodded thoughtfully. "Would Oscar be upset if I went to pick him up and brought him here? The hospital would likely understand that you're involved in Council matters, especially if you sent me with authorization to collect him, since you've taken custody of him."
Ozpin sighed. "I don't know. I've been trying to build a relationship with him this week but starting out with a broken promise to him won't bode well, I suspect. He's more receptive to speaking with me than he was earlier in the week, now that he knows I believe him, but I still don't know where my relationship with him was before he arrived here, or how far into the merge we were. That anger you saw... and now this…. it could undo a lot of the progress we've made."
"What if I covered your classes today?" Glynda said.
"I'm sorry?"
"There's no combat lessons today, so I have the time available, and it would give you the chance to go and collect him and still be back here in time for the Council meeting."
"The students will ask questions – it will feed the grapevine," Ozpin pointed out. "I've never not been in class since I started teaching."
"I think they'll understand if I tell them it's a personal matter," Glynda said dryly. "As curious as they may be, that should stop them from asking too many questions. You keep yourself so available to them and are so reliable, they may see it out of the ordinary for you, but not enough to gossip about, I suspect."
Ozpin hesitated. He had a responsibility to his students – one that he took very seriously, since being Headmaster of Beacon was his primary career, beyond his ongoing war with Salem and guiding his inner circle. But at the same time, Oscar was important too, and he didn't want to undermine the efforts he had already made to get to know the boy and establish some trust between them.
"You can take a personal day," Glynda added. "Everyone here has done it at least once."
"Except for you and I," he replied, his tone as dry as hers.
"We're the exceptions that proves the rule," she shot back lightning quick as usual with her repartees. Her expression softened. "Ozpin, remember what we talked about last week – it's okay to trust others. We are willing to help if you ask for it, especially since you so rarely ask."
Ozpin took a deep breath. "Thank you, Glynda," he said quietly. "I think I will take you up on that offer. Let me show you what I had planned for today." He pulled out his lesson plans as she moved around the desk to stand beside him, reading over his shoulder as he explained what he had been planning to do with his first years.
White Fang Encampment… Western Anima…
"Do you think they'll be back soon?" Ilia wondered. Her color shifted, her skin darkening while her hair and the spots on her face turned a deep shade of orange, displaying her anxious anticipation.
"I'm sure they will be. Adam's leading the mission, and you know how careful he is when it comes to planning," Blake assured her friend, despite her own misgivings. "It was just a protest in Kuchinashi, after all."
"Yeah, you're right. He'll bring the others back safe." Ilia nodded, her skin lightening to its usual shade and her spots and hair shifting away from orange and becoming more yellow with happiness. "Why didn't you go with him this time? Usually the two of you are together."
Blake shrugged. "I don't know. He just said he didn't think he needed me this time, and he wanted me to keep an eye on things here."
"I'm glad I don't have to wait alone for them to come back this time," Ilia said. "It's always nerve-wracking when both of you go out together, even though I know you can take care of yourselves, and Adam won't let anything happen to you."
Blake squeezed her friend's shoulder. "I'm going to make a circuit of the watch posts, make sure everything is in order and we're prepared in case anyone tries to follow the team back to camp."
Ilia nodded. "I'll keep an eye out here. I'll let you know when I see them coming."
Blake nodded and exited the camp, heading into the tree line. She'd start with the furthest watch posts and make an inward spiraling circuit back to the camp. Hopefully by the time she finished, Adam would be back with his team, and everyone would be safe.
Their safety – Adam's safety – was one of the things she worried about the most. She had heard that Sienna was planning a large-scale raid on one of the Mistral SDC refineries soon, so for the time being she wanted the smaller camps to lay low and only participate passively in smaller-scale protests. Adam had gotten approval to lead a team to Kuchinashi for this protest, given the recent hostilities that had erupted in that village, but if there were active protests going on, they could easily devolve into a riot, and someone might get hurt.
Tossing Gambol Shroud up and hooking the blade around a branch, she swung up into the trees and began leaping from branch to branch.
Something was going on with Adam lately, but she couldn't figure out what it was. More and more often, it seemed as if he was coming back from missions where people – not his teammates – were being injured. In at least one case, however, a guard had died. He'd claimed he didn't have a choice, that it had been self-defense, but Blake wasn't sure if that was true. She knew how skilled a fighter Adam was, and she'd never seen a standard security guard or Atlesian Knight capable of stopping him. Even the few Huntsmen who had challenged him had struggled against him.
Being part of the White Fang was all she'd really ever known, what with her father having been the first leader of the group. She'd felt so betrayed when her parents had left the group so that her father could assume the position of chieftain of Menagerie. How could they just walk away from everything they'd been fighting for since the end of the Faunus War?
But it wasn't the same as it had been with Sienna in charge. She liked the older woman, but her insistence on using methods other than simple, peaceful protests made Blake uncomfortable. It was one thing to use violence to free any Faunus who were living a life of virtual slavery in the Dust mines or other jobs – but it was another thing to attack shopkeepers who refused to serve them or start a riot at a Faunus-rights protest.
She reached the first watch point and gave the password so the guard would know she was friendly before swinging into the hidden blind. "How is everything?"
"No trouble," the guard – a black bear Faunus named Granite replied. "Watch switches in two hours."
"Good. Adam's team should be back soon," she replied. "Let us know if they need any help when they return."
"Will do," Granite acknowledged, and Blake leaped out of the blind and back into the branches, heading east towards the next watch station as her thoughts returned to her previous line of reasoning.
Having Adam and Ilia helped with some of her doubts – they were both fully behind Sienna, believing that more decisive action was needed than the pacifistic methods Ghira had espoused. The fact that her parents had seemed to have given up on the fight for true equal rights for Faunus left her more inclined to side with Adam and Ilia.
But still… was violence really the best option? Yes, their tactics seemed to be working, but when Blake went into a village with the others, it wasn't respect she saw in the eyes of the humans – it was fear. Part of her felt good at that knowledge – that humans feared her and feared what she might do if they provoked her. It was a heady sort of power that she'd never had before and that same part of her craved it.
At the same time, another part of her was sad when she saw humans cringing away from her, snatching up their children, or glowering and looking like they would attack given the least provocation – all because of the fear they felt. Yes, in some ways things were better for the Faunus now than they had been before and during the Faunus War, but in other ways things still hadn't really changed.
She'd heard rumors about what things were like in different Kingdoms. Vaccuo didn't seem to care if people were human or Faunus, as long as they had the strength to survive the harsh environment of that Kingdom. Vale welcomed Faunus to an extent – there were still some bigots there, but a Faunus could openly walk the streets without being worried about having a rock thrown at them or being ambushed by a gang of toughs shouting insults. From everything she'd heard, Professor Ozpin, the Headmaster of Beacon welcomed Faunus students as readily as he did human students. Anyone who could pass the rigorous entrance exam was welcome.
Mistral was… less pleasant. The Kingdom was the largest one and the Faunus' reception really depended on where in the Kingdom you were. The outlying villages seemed to be the most welcoming, since it took everyone's efforts for a village to survive – there wasn't room for the kind of bigotry that one saw in the capital or in the other big cities like Wind Path, Kuchinashi, or Argus. But within those larger cities their reception was decidedly cooler. 'No Faunus Served' signs were common, and if a Faunus attempted to patronize those places by concealing their animal trait was found out, it usually meant a beating or even an arrest – Mistral's policy was that the shopkeepers had the right to decide who – or what – they served. Again, the poorer areas of the cities were usually the more welcoming because survival was more important, but the upper, wealthy areas were the most bigoted.
Atlas was by far the worst Kingdom for Faunus. It was exceedingly rare for a Faunus to even expect to achieve high enough status to reach Atlas, or even the main parts of Mantle. From what she'd heard from Adam and Ilia, both of whom had lived at least a few years in the Kingdom, most Faunus were all but exiled into the crater outside Mantle. The only jobs they could find were as mine workers or serving staff for the wealthy humans on Atlas. Education was almost non-existent for them, and even those lucky enough to get positions as servants were repeatedly abused and mocked.
It didn't sound like any place Blake ever wanted to visit, that's for sure.
Checking the remaining watch posts didn't take much time and within the hour she was re-entering the camp from the south, just as a small commotion broke out near the western entrance. She hurried over to see what was going on, and saw Adam leading the way through the gathering crowd. His eyes were hidden behind his white mask, as usual, but Blake didn't miss the tell-tale splashes of blood on his neck and the hilt of his sword. Her heart clenched in worry as she ran up to him. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"No," Adam replied, his voice rough. "The humans didn't like us being there. Everything started out peacefully until someone decided to get violent with Scarlet. They threw a brick at her."
"Is she okay? What's all the blood from?" Blake asked. Scarlet was a parrot Faunus, with red and blue feathers on her head and body instead of hair.
"She has a minor head wound," Adam growled. "She's fine, otherwise. I had to guard our retreat when a riot started to happen, and a couple of over-eager racists decided their pitchforks and sickles were strong enough to try to attack us. One stupid boy got cut by my sword when I blocked his attack and his sickle slipped." The growl changed to a note of grim satisfaction. "It should teach him a lesson about learning how to use his weapon properly."
Blake bit her lip. Another person injured – and not just a Faunus, but a farmer. Another incident in a pattern that was becoming increasingly common. "Oh. Um, well, I checked all the watch posts. The guards will be rotating shifts in an hour, but everything is quiet. Sienna called about two hours ago and wants to discuss the upcoming refinery raid with you. Apparently she's got big news."
"Good. Let me get cleaned up and I'll call her back," Adam said. "Get Ilia and meet me in the command tent. I want both of you with me for that mission if Sienna agrees."
"Right. I'll – I'll go find her," Blake said. She started to turn but Adam caught her hand and she paused. Now that she was touching him, she could feel sticky dampness in her palm from his glove.
"What's wrong, Blake?" he asked, his voice gentling.
"Just – I just want to go and check on Scarlet too. I know you said the wound isn't bad, but she's my friend and I want to make sure she's okay," Blake said. She did want to check on Scarlet, but she also needed to think before she went to find Ilia.
"Blake… I promise. I was only trying to defend our team," Adam said softly. "I know you don't like it when people get hurt, and I'm doing my best, but there are some humans out there who don't know when to stop."
"I know. I understand," Blake assured him. "I trust you. I'll just go check on Scarlet and find Ilia and we'll join you in a few minutes."
Adam studied her for a moment before releasing her with a nod. "Okay."
Blake smiled at him and turned towards the medical tent. Only once she was out of sight did she force herself to glance down at her palm, which was coated with red blood where Adam had held her hand. Between what she could see on her hand and what she'd felt in his glove, plus all the spatter on him… somehow she didn't think it was as simple as a single boy getting cut when his weapon slipped on a parry. She glanced back over her shoulder at his tent.
Why would Adam lie to her about that? They'd argued before about the fact that people seemed to be getting hurt more and more often on his missions, but she still had confidence in his leadership.
Didn't she?
She shook her head hard. Of course she did. She loved him. He'd always been there for her, and he trusted her to support him, to stand behind his decisions. She looked down at her palm again, curling her fingers into a fist before she quickly wiped her hand off on her black leggings.
We all bleed. We all live. We all want a good life. Why can't the humans understand that we're no different from them in that regard? she wondered, before another, more traitorous thought crept into her mind.
Why can't we find common ground with the humans? We all have to deal with the Grimm. We aren't that different. Why does everything have to be about violence?
Air Ferry to Beacon Academy…
Oscar stood near the window of the ferry, one hand braced against the bulkhead for support, at Ozpin's insistence. The Headmaster stood just behind him, close enough to catch him if he fell, but not so close that he was crowding Oscar. Ozpin held a bag in one hand, which held a small oxygen tank and mask as a precaution that Doctor Ashburn had insisted on.
"You may be able to breathe more easily, but your punctured lung is still healing. If you try to do too much too soon, you could easily tear it again."
Oscar rather doubted that any such thing would happen, but the doctor had been kind to him, and he understood her concerns. He fully intended to start working on getting back into shape as soon as he could, but he planned to take it easy, at least until he could walk around without feeling short of breath or having his muscles ache from disuse while he'd been stuck in bed.
He could feel the side-long glances of the other students on the ferry with them. His presence with Ozpin at his side was no doubt causing a great deal of curiosity. He probably looked too young to be a student, not to mention that they were more than a month into the semester. Then there was the fact that Ozpin was standing between him and the rest of the passengers and none of them were brave enough to question their Headmaster. Oscar was doing his best to ignore the stares.
Through the window, he could see Vale spread out beneath him – vastly different from Mistral, which was built vertically to take advantage of the protection afforded by the cliffs and waterfalls, or Atlas which had the advantage of being a literal floating city and was far more technological than Mistral or Vale.
Vale felt like a mix of Mistral and Atlas in some ways, but it had its own character as well. Neatly trimmed bushes, hedges, and flower gardens could be seen everywhere. There were clearly defined areas – residential, business, and industrial, and the overt technology was in the holographic street signs, traffic lights, and banners, along with other such protective or general safety measures. In the distance he could see two tall towers and a sense of familiarity from Oz's memories pricked at him. "Are those the combat schools?" he asked, indicating the towers.
Ozpin nodded. "Signal Academy is the one on the left, and Pharos Academy is the one to the right," the Headmaster replied. "In the days before and during the Great War, the towers were used for signaling in the event of a Grimm attack or some other emergency. Pharos is close enough to the northern coast that it also once served as a lighthouse during storms, but with the advanced navigation technology and the city-wide Grimm alerts of the CCTS, neither of the towers are used for those purposes anymore. But the towers are so important to the Kingdom's history that when they were decommissioned, it was decided they would become the focal points of the new primary combat schools."
"Vale is so different from what I'm used to," Oscar said quietly, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation from the few other passengers – mostly students – who were sharing the ferry ride with them. "It's not really like Mistral or Atlas at all, is it?"
"There are similarities, but many more differences," Ozpin agreed. "Every Kingdom has their own culture, their own values, after all. It's one of the things that makes Remnant such an amazing place – the people have been shaped by their environments and the things they value." He rested a hand on Oscar's shoulder, the gesture tentative, but warm. "If you look over there, to your right, you'll get your first look at Beacon."
Oscar looked in the direction the Headmaster had indicated, a surge of familiar anticipation rushing through him – one he couldn't identify if it came entirely from him, or if it was a mix of his own feelings and a lingering influence that Oz had had on him.
Beacon was… amazing.
The large central clock tower – which Oscar knew housed the CCTS as well as Ozpin's office and personal quarters – rose over the rest of the campus like a guardian, with the other buildings gathered around the base of the tower and spreading out in a half-moon shape. The ferry landing docks were right at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the Vale River (although Oscar personally thought it was much too large to just be a river), and a long, paved walkway lined with manicured trees and small seating areas linked the docks to the central courtyard at the base of Beacon Tower.
It was familiar and foreign at the same time and left Oscar feeling conflicted. Exactly as he had expected, part of him was saying This is home, while the other part of him was just trying to take it all in and realizing how little he knew about Beacon, even with the faint hint of Oz's memories. The old wizard hadn't wanted to discuss Beacon much during their time at Haven, although he had warm feelings about it every time Ruby and the others talked about their time there.
"This is the captain speaking. We will be docking at Beacon in five minutes. Please make sure you've secured all of your belongings before departing."
Oscar didn't have much to his name – the bag that held his oxygen tank and mask, which Ozpin was firmly in possession of, as well as a smaller bag with his various belt pouches and possessions that had come with him and had been held for him by the nurses at the hospital. Since his clothing had been cut off of him, Ozpin had – to Oscar's embarrassment – stopped by a store earlier that day and picked him out a pair of black trousers and a white shirt similar to what he had been wearing under his combat gear.
Oscar didn't like owing people, and he was already accruing a debt to Ozpin that he would have to figure out a way to pay back before long. If she were here, Ruby would probably try to argue that Oz owed him after everything he'd put Oscar through, but Oscar couldn't see it the same way. A pang of loneliness for his friends filled him for a moment, but he shook the feelings off. Now wasn't the time to dwell on them – it would just depress him.
"I'll get you settled in my quarters," Ozpin said softly as the ship began to make a slow bank to the right in order to begin docking procedures. "After that, however, I'll have to leave you since I have a Council meeting to attend this afternoon." He had a sour look on his face, but Oscar wasn't sure why. "I can have Glynda bring some dinner to you later, since I haven't had a chance to procure you a scroll and have your access to the dining hall entered into the system yet, and I don't know how long the Council meeting will last."
"Um, sure, I guess," Oscar said.
"Feel free to make yourself comfortable tonight," Ozpin said. "We'll take tomorrow morning to get anything else you may need for an extended stay, and then in the afternoon I would like the two of us to meet with Glynda and Qrow to discuss… everything."
Oscar nodded wordlessly. He was going to have to explain everything he knew – and he still didn't really know how much he could say and be believed. What to say about Lionheart? About Ironwood?
The ferry came to a gentle halt and there was a sharp clank as the docking clamps engaged to lock the ferry in place before the door opened with a hiss. The passengers closest to the door exited quickly, leaving Ozpin and Oscar to bring up the rear.
They headed up the concourse together, the wide brick pathway gleaming under the afternoon sunlight. Ozpin moved slowly, Long Memory clicking with each step. Clearly, he was taking the doctor's warnings about Oscar exerting himself to heart. Part of Oscar was frustrated – he'd travelled from his farm to Mistral on his own, and then gone with RWBY and Qrow when the team had split up on the Argus Limited, and they'd ended up walking a good portion of that journey as well.
Granted, not as much as Ruby, Jaune, Nora, and Ren had on their trip from Vale to Mistral, but still!
The other part of him was grateful for the slow pace. A week practically confined to bed hadn't done him any favors and he was moving much more slowly than he had been before the Hound had abducted him. He already knew how much he could walk before his injured lung began protesting the exertion, and he knew he'd probably need to rest once they reached Ozpin's apartment.
Students and faculty alike eyed the two of them as they made their way towards the Tower. A few called out greetings which Ozpin always responded to, but the Headmaster made no effort to stop and engage anyone in conversation. Oscar was looking all around as they walked, finding that he recognized buildings, in a vague way. He could tell which path led to the dining hall, and which one led to the student dorms and the staff housing.
As they reached the courtyard right in front of the Tower, Oscar paused – partly to catch his breath, and partly to examine the statue that stood in the center. A Huntsman held his sword aloft in a heroic pose, while a hooded Huntress stood with her battle axe at rest as they stood over a defeated Grimm. It symbolized everything that Beacon and the other Academies stood for, and yet none of the teachers or students here other than Glynda and Ozpin knew about the Academies' secondary purpose.
"Oscar?" Ozpin asked, gently. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," he said softly. "Just thinking. Everything about Beacon is familiar to me even though this is my first time stepping foot on the campus, but it's all distant, like a dream that I once had. Nothing is… real, concrete yet in my mind, but I'm standing here anyway. I never thought that I would be here, even in my wildest dreams."
Ozpin nodded, glancing around quickly to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. "It's a side effect of the merge," he murmured. "The more of my memories you take on, the less often that will happen, because my memories will be yours. That disconnect that you're talking about will disappear."
"I know," Oscar replied, equally quietly. "It's just…" he shook his head, not sure if he could vocalize what he wanted to say at the moment. "Never mind."
"If you're ready to keep going then?" Ozpin asked.
"Yeah." Oscar took one last breath before following Ozpin around the statue and the rest of the way across the courtyard to the Tower doors. Ozpin led him over to the elevator, scanning his scroll and then holding the door for Oscar. Once they were in Ozpin pressed the second button from the top on the panel and the doors slid closed.
They went up, and up, and up, until the car came to a stop and the doors slid open on Ozpin's apartment.
Oscar looked around, again feeling a sense of familiarity. Without even taking more than two steps out of the elevator, Oscar knew how the apartment was arranged around the central pillar. The elevator opened into a small, circular hallway with doors branching off from it, to allow access to all of the rooms without having to cross through one room to the next.
Ozpin led him through the door immediately in front of him, which opened into a large space that seemed to be a combination of living room, study, and parlor, while the central supports for the Tower and walls of the elevator shaft itself acted as dividing walls for different parts of the living space. There was a door to his left that Oscar knew lead into Ozpin's room, and he knew there would be another door to the left of that space leading into the bathroom. Continuing in the same direction would be a slightly smaller room that was designed to be multi-purposed, depending on the needs of the Headmaster in residence at any given time. Beyond that smaller room – which Oscar was fairly sure was going to be his – was another room that served as storage and laundry, before finally coming around full circle to the kitchen, which could also be reached from where he stood through the door to his right. Each room had a corresponding door off of that small circular hallway as well.
The rooms were wedge-shaped to account for the central elevator shaft and the small central hallway, but one really had to be paying attention to realize that fact. The exterior walls were windows all around the entire apartment, with thick green curtains, as well as golden sheers that could be drawn for privacy and temperature control beyond what the Dust that fueled the building's generator could do. Ozpin could open the curtains for light, but if it got too hot, the sheers could be pulled closed to cast the apartment into shadow and allow it to cool. This high up – higher than any tree on campus – the apartment would be filled with both light and warmth if all of the curtains were opened at the same time.
Most of the furniture seemed to be made of a golden oak, upholstered in dark greens with throw pillows rugs, and blankets of differing shades of brown and cream. In the sitting room, the walls formed by the Towers supports were lined with bookshelves filled with books. Other than a single book left on a side table near one of the armchairs, the room was spotless.
Oscar took a few steps into the living area, still looking around with that feeling of familiarity. "Is it weird that I feel like if you asked me to find any item in here, I could probably lay my hands on it within a minute or two at most?"
Ozpin chuckled softly. "No. I've lived in these rooms for almost twenty years, so it doesn't surprise me that my habits and preferences might have imprinted themselves on you back in your own time." A nearby grandfather clock chimed as he spoke, and he sighed before placing the bag with the oxygen tank down near the door. "I hate to have to drop you off," he said reluctantly, "but I do need to get up to my office for the Council meeting. Do you think you can find your room and get settled in, or should I send Glynda to help? I don't want you to over-exert yourself."
"I'll be okay, I think," Oscar said. "I get the spare room, right? The one on the opposite side of the bathroom from yours?"
Ozpin nodded. "Yes. I had some of the furniture brought up earlier this week from an unused student dorm room, so you'll find a bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and a nightstand in there. The sheets and blankets are just the ones standard-issued to the students, but when we go into town to get the things you'll need, we can look at getting something different if you don't like the color."
"I don't need much," Oscar started. "I'm sure whatever's there will be fine –"
Ozpin shook his head. "Oscar, I don't want you to think of yourself as a guest. Since we don't know for sure what brought you here, or if you'll be going back to where – or when – you came from, that will be your room until something happens one way or the other, so I want you to be comfortable." He turned and headed back towards the elevator. "Don't feel like you need to wait up if you get tired," he added. "I don't know how long the meeting will take, so make yourself comfortable."
"Okay," Oscar replied. "I think I can manage that."
Ozpin shot him a quick smile as the elevator door closed, leaving Oscar standing in the living area, looking around while his emotions and memories waged a brief but internal war with the lingering emotions and memories he had inherited from Oz. After a moment, he moved over to where Ozpin had left the bag he'd been carrying and picked it up, experimentally. It was heavy, but not impossibly so. Oscar was used to carrying heavy things from working on the farm, and it wasn't like he had to go far.
He followed the small hallway around until he reached the door that should lead into his room, if Oz's memories weren't failing him. He reached out and grasped the doorknob, then hesitated. This felt like intruding in a way, even though Ozpin had said this was his room. Oscar bit his lip and forced the feelings down before twisting the knob and pushing the door open.
The bedroom was the same wedge shape as the rest of the rooms – narrow near the hallway and widening the further he went into the room. The same green curtains and golden sheers hung in front of the window. The bed was a slightly darker oak than what was in the main living area – more of a medium oak than the golden oak. The sheets were white and there was a red blanket and two feather pillows with white cases at the head of the bed. A matching nightstand was to the right of the bed, with a lamp positioned on top of it, a dresser with attached mirror across the room from the bed, and a bookshelf and desk positioned in front of the curved part of the wall. The desk chair was a basic wooden rolling chair with a red cushion and slatted back, and there was another small lamp with a pull chain on the top of the desk.
Once again, everything was clean and spotless, just shy of being sterile. It felt impersonal, and Oscar understood what Ozpin had meant. If he was staying here for any length of time, it would start to feel uncomfortable if he didn't get a chance to put his own touches on it. Obviously, the students got to decorate their dorms as they saw fit, so why shouldn't Oscar?
He set the bag with the oxygen tank down near the door for the time being, before moving further into the room. He placed the bag he was carrying on the bed, and began pulling out his belts and pouches, opening each pouch and pulling out the contents for the time being. His Lien went into one of the drawers on the nightstand, his tool kit for Long Memory into the top dresser drawer, and the other trinkets he'd accumulated arranged on top of various surfaces to try to make the room feel a little more like Oscar's and less like a guest room.
It didn't really work, Oscar decided as he hung his belts up on a hook in the closet after inspecting them for damage. The room was still barren, without any real personality to it. Even his room at his aunt's house – simple as it had been, being tucked under the eaves in the attic – had Oscar's stamp on it. The thick red quilt with the gold diamond pattern on it folded at the end of the bed over the cream blanket and white sheets, the old round rug with its red, gold, and blue floral pattern that he had rescued from his aunt after she mentioned wanting to throw it out, the low bookshelf stuffed full of books that served as a nightstand in front of his one window…
Even the wooden paneling on the walls – pieced together from old scraps used in the rest of the house when his aunt had been preparing for Oscar to come and live with her after his parents died. The room had been too small for a closet, so Oscar's few outfits had been hung on pegs on the wall, his boots for summer or winter lined up neatly beside the door, while a battered wooden chest held the few possessions he'd been able to salvage from his parents' house but didn't have the space to put up in his new room. All of those little details had given the room character that this room didn't have yet, and Oscar missed it.
Not knowing what else to do, he moved back into the hallway. He peered into the bathroom, seeing a shower and a tub, a full-length mirror in an ornate golden oak frame, and a sink with a brass faucet and taps and surmising that the toilet was behind the low partition at the far side of the room. The floor was a dark grey slate, rather than the wooden boards he knew were in the rest of the apartment.
He bypassed Ozpin's room – not wanting to intrude on the Headmaster's personal space – and the living room for the moment, wanting to take a look at the kitchen and utility room. The kitchen had the same golden oak for cabinets, with black granite countertops. The cooktop was powered by fire Dust to create the cooking flame, while the oven and other appliances drew power through the Tower's electric system, which Oscar knew – thanks to Oz's memories – was powered by lightning Dust.
Feeling a little like he was prying, Oscar poked around in the pantry and found that it was stocked with essentials, but from what he remembered, Ozpin wasn't much more than a plain cook who preferred to handle basic recipes only. There were enough staple ingredients that it wouldn't have been too difficult for him to come up with dinner for himself and leave leftovers for Ozpin for after his meeting ended, but Oscar decided not to invade the kitchen just yet. Ozpin had indicated that he would ask Glynda to bring something up, and that was as good a source of dinner as anything else.
The utility room had a washing machine and a dryer, along with an ironing board built into one wall, and a fold-down drying rack mounted to the opposite wall for those things – like Ozpin's suits, most likely – that couldn't be put through the machine. There were a few boxes stacked and labeled neatly on the opposite side of the room, but Oscar didn't bother to investigate any further.
He returned to the living area, looking around and feeling a little lost. So this was going to be his new home for… who knew how long? It was different from anywhere he'd ever lived before. Everything was more elegant and high-end than back on the farm, but simple in its elegance at the same time. The house at Mistral – one of Oz's safe houses, in fact – had been elegant in the way that was classically Mistral – artistic, with lots of wood and designs drawn from nature. Atlas Academy had been militaristic and sterile with a pallet of blue, grey, and white that always made the rooms feel colder than they probably were.
His eyes fell on the bookshelves, and he felt his fingers itch. The books Ozpin had brought him during the week had done a lot to alleviate the boredom, and he really didn't have anything else to do at the moment. He crossed the living area to the closest shelf and began scanning the titles, waiting for one to catch his eye.
Ozpin's Office…
Glynda was waiting for Ozpin again. He crossed from the elevator to his desk and claimed his seat, accessing his terminal and beginning to pull up the proposals the Council would be addressing shortly. "How did it go?"
"It took a few minutes to settle them down – they had questions, as you anticipated, but they settled down readily enough once I told them it was a personal matter," Glynda said. "Otherwise it went well. I collected their essays," she indicated the new folder on the corner of his desk, near his left hand. "We reviewed the discussion last week and I used your notes to plant a few more seeds about ulterior motivations and how it can relate not only to the reason behind why a story was written, but about the purpose of the characters and the plot."
"Good," Ozpin said. "I'll continue that discussion with them next week, and then we can move on to the comparisons that I wanted to go over in their essays. That will give me a chance to read what they came up with."
"How's Oscar?" Glynda asked.
"I think the walk from the ferry docks to the Tower tired him out more than he's admitting to," Ozpin replied. "I wish I could be down there getting him settled in, but this takes precedence. If you could bring him up a tray from the dining hall later, I would appreciate it. I plan to take him out tomorrow morning to get him anything he'll need, and then after lunch Qrow should be coming back from Patch for the meeting we need to have."
"With James, Theodore, and Leonardo as well?" Glynda asked.
"No. Just you, Qrow, Oscar, and I for now," Ozpin said. "For now I want to keep the circle of information small. Beacon is likely to be the first target from what Oscar has already said, and I want to know as much as possible about what to expect from that before we start worrying about the other Academies."
Glynda nodded as Ozpin's terminal beeped, signaling an incoming call. She gave him an ironic little smile. "I'll leave you to it, and I'll go check in on Oscar for you."
"Thank you, Glynda," he said softly as he accepted the call. She turned and left with the familiar clicking of her heels on the glass floor as he turned his attention to his screen. "Councilwoman Richards, Councilman Thyme, Councilman Russet, good afternoon."
"Professor Ozpin," the only woman on the Council replied. "It's good to see you again."
"And you," Ozpin replied. "Before we begin with the agenda for today, I would like to address one matter."
"Of course," Councilwoman Ginger Richards was – other than Ozpin – the most senior member of the Council, beginning her final three-year term. Councilman Russet had just been re-elected for his second term, and Councilman Mortimer Thyme was the newest member, having replaced a departing councilwoman who had reached her term limit. Ozpin was not the head of the Council, however – that was too much power to place in one person, so the head of the Council was always the member who had been on the Council for the longest but wasn't the Headmaster.
Ozpin steepled his fingers and arranged the wording in his head before he spoke, keeping his tone neutral and his words unaccusatory. "I am aware that having an earlier session is beneficial to all of you – you have families to return to and it is a Friday. However, changing our meeting time today was most inconvenient for me. I have responsibilities to Beacon beyond my responsibilities to the Council. Today, for instance, is one of the days when I teach my first-year students. On any other week, my class would have ended just before this meeting, which means I would have had no time to return to my office and prepare the necessary materials for the proposals we'll be considering today."
The Councilwoman frowned slightly. "I am sorry to hear that we inconvenienced you, Professor. We weren't made aware of any scheduling conflicts."
"The Council meeting times normally don't conflict with my other responsibilities," Ozpin assured her. "They were set at that time for that reason. Today it was particularly inconvenient, as I had made arrangements last week to handle a personal matter in town after my class, and I was forced to ask Professor Goodwitch to cover my class for me today so that I could reschedule my meeting in town for earlier this afternoon."
"I see. We'll make sure that this doesn't happen again. Do we need to push the meeting today back to its normal time?"
Ozpin shook his head. "No, we're already assembled, and I was able to work the matter out. However, our future meetings should return to their normally scheduled times." He made a point not to look directly at Russet, who was scowling. Ozpin was certain that Russet was the one behind the change in meeting times, but he didn't plan to call the other man out on it – this time. "That was all I needed to say." He settled back in his seat, wishing for a mug of cocoa, but he hadn't had time to prepare one, so he would need to do without this time.
"Thank you for the courtesy, Professor. We will return to our regular schedule for our next meeting. If anyone has a conflict with that, please make sure to bring it up before the day of the meeting so that we can all make arrangements for a time to meet." The Councilwoman's no-nonsense acceptance of his subtle rebuke satisfied any irritation he still felt towards Russet. "Now then, the first item on the agenda for today is old business, and relates to you, Professor – has their been any updates on the reports of increased Grimm attacks on the outlying villages?"
White Fang Encampment…
Blake slipped into the command tent with Ilia right behind her. Adam had pulled out the maps of the refinery that had been sent to them by Sienna, via an informant who worked in that refinery. His scroll was connected to a video call with Sienna and was projecting above the planning table. She moved to stand behind Adam's right shoulder, while Ilia took a place on Adam's left.
"Blake. Ilia. Good, I'm glad you're here," Sienna said. Her expression was one of grim pleasure as she noticed their arrival. "The two of you are excellent at infiltration, from what Adam has told me in his reports, and that is going to be beneficial for this next mission."
"What's going on?" Blake asked, seeing Adam's mouth turned upward in a satisfied smile.
"My informant at the SDC refinery just reached out and let me know that Jacques Schnee is expected to be making a tour of the refinery next month. The overseers are already working to make sure that everything is running smoothly, so they can present the best appearance when he arrives to make his inspection," Sienna said. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you what an opportunity this gives us."
Blake felt a thrill of anticipation, despite some of her misgivings from earlier. Jacques Schnee. The man who was, in many respects, single-handedly responsible for a lot of the prejudice and suffering that the Faunus were still experiencing, especially in Atlas. His treatment of his workers – both in the mines and the ones he hired to serve at social gatherings – was openly condemned by the Faunus, especially the Atlas branch of the Fang.
"Although the plan was to hit the refinery next week, I think it will be better to wait and strike during Schnee's visit," Sienna was saying.
"If we could detain him, maybe even take him with us…" Ilia breathed.
"We could make lasting change," Adam said, his tone full of anticipation. "We can ransom his safe return for changes to the way Faunus are treated in the mines, use his capitulation to our demands to seek changes across all four Kingdoms."
It was a real plan – not just protests and trying to make their plight known via the CCTS and the news stations in the four Kingdoms. It wasn't enough to simply hijack valuable Dust shipments in an effort to cost the SDC and other companies enough money to force them to the bargaining table. Those actions had weight, but not a significant impact when taken across everything happening to the Faunus across all four Kingdoms. With Menagerie generally remaining pacifistic under her parents' leadership, tacitly condoning the things the White Fang was actively doing, they had a real opportunity.
"We'll need to be careful though," Blake found herself saying. "We need as much information about the refinery, the security protocols, and Schnee's schedule as we can get. As soon as it becomes known that we're there, security will collapse in around him and they'll try to evacuate him before we can reach him. If we fail to leave with Schnee in our hands, it will only make things worse – the retaliation against the Faunus workers will be immense."
"That's why we won't leave without him," Adam said with determination.
"Agreed. My informant is going to keep sending my information over the next month in preparation," Sienna said. "I've already got others in place to make sure we have a full layout of the refinery, and I'd like the three of you to come back to Mistral. We've managed to locate some space to construct a mock-up of the refinery, so we can run through our plan and rehearse for this mission as details come in."
"We'll leave tonight," Adam said.
"Good. I'll send you the coordinates where we've moved our camp to," Sienna said. "I'll be coming with you on this mission, and I'm already working on assembling the rest of our team. Blake, you and Ilia will be instrumental in disabling the security systems and making sure we have eyes on Schnee at all times when the day comes."
Blake nodded. This was something she could do and do well. This was the sort of thing she had trained for, and she was going to do her people proud. "Absolutely."
"Yes," Ilia agreed. "We can do that."
"Excellent. I'm glad you're willing to assist us with this," Sienna replied. "Make sure your camp is set up to manage themselves while you're gone. I want them to lay low until this is over and we have Schnee."
"At your command, High Leader," Adam said, placing a fist over his heart and bowing his head as Sienna's image flickered and faded. He looked at the two of them. "We have work to do."
Another new chapter for all of you. Again, I need to thank my awesome friend and beta, TheFullmetalBitch for looking over this chapter - she caught some embarrassing errors I didn't notice on my final read-through and that my spellchecker didn't flag because the words were technically spelled right - it was just the wrong word for what I intended.
There is one additional thing I want to re-emphasize: This is going to be a slow burn fic and this is going to be a LONG fic - we're close to 100,000 words already and only on chapter 10. The scenes I'm putting in, I am putting in for a reason, either because I want to explore how Oscar's presence will begin to change the events of canon, or because I want to explore certain decisions made by characters that lead up to the decisions we see them make in canon, particularly the RWBY and JNPR teams. Since I have not quite two years until we hit the moments where Oscar's presence will determine how the Fall of Beacon plays out, I can't just ignore teams RWBY and JNPR for almost a year of events.
A few reviewers on have stated that the story is dragging and I'm adding unneeded filler. While I respect their opinions, I do have to disagree. I am carefully considering every scene I include and how I will use it to spin different character arcs, so please don't tell me the story is dull, or lagging, or full of filler, because these scenes are not filler just for the sake of adding words to the chapter. I respect constructive criticism, but telling me that you skip scenes that don't involve Oscar isn't constructive - it's insulting, because it means you're not taking the time to read the full chapter. I respect your right to express your opinions, but please make it constructive and offer suggestions on how I can improve, don't just drag me down.