Arc III: Chaos Named
Chapter 26: Idyll's End
Lunar light bathed the deserted street in an almost tranquil glow, but since many houses on either side lay darkened or derelict, it only served to make one look over their shoulder for fear of getting mugged. It didn't help that downtown Vale glimmered in the distance, reminding all that for a society supposedly united against the Grimm, the seams were fraying fast beneath the rug.
Adam Taurus slowly sighed as the first car he'd seen running all night drove past and under streetlights that either flickered or simply didn't work. Though there was nothing around that could even remotely threaten him, it wouldn't do to be distracted and miss a patrolling cop or curious onlooker and jeopardize the mission.
At least Vale's so-called master thief appreciated the need for discretion, even if he wilfully ignored how they were breaking into another faunus-owned enterprise. Part of him thought it foolish that the place remained in a destitute neighbourhood, though it perhaps remained from when the area was more prosperous.
Not that the youth of this generation here would know of such, a thought which had him clenching his sheathed blade hard enough to make his gloved knuckles pale.
A small click and clunk heralded Roman's success, turning the deadbolt open at the back of the store.
"Hmph. I'm almost insulted. How far have I fallen that the greatest criminal in Vale is left to lockpick stores with nothing worth stealing?"
Adam bristled and didn't reply. "Deery. Perry. Keep overwatch by the rear for potential threats. Leone. Reyson. The same but for the front. The rest of us will search the shop." He glanced at Roman. "And you will deal with any security systems inside."
"Already a step ahead," Roman frowned, pulling out a scroll emblazoned with a W and after a couple of seconds, they heard the telltale beeps of the shop's security deactivating. "I haven't earned my reputation by doing nothing."
He grunted and entered first, slowly and methodically. Checking his corners, the tighter room inside meant using a longer blade would be more detrimental than effective, though it was nothing that a swift dash and jab with the pommel of his sword couldn't fix. Even though the chances now were slim, he'd rather not kill any bystander faunus if he could help it.
Thankfully there were none, though the anger which slowly grew since the start of the mission became harder to control. The security pad by the front door glowed a neutralized green under the stark red exit, while enough moonlight poured through the barred windows to safely illuminate the floor. Myriads of old artifacts and pawned heirlooms were laid bare, with a few in the back sporting a thin sheet of dust.
Adam nodded at his men to spread out, while Junior's goons looked to Roman for approval. He couldn't help but feel disappointed in how the bar owner's henchmen seemed more competent than his, but partly why he came to Vale in the first place was to rebuild the White Fang branch there after years of mismanagement and inaction.
The rest was for Blake, of course, but he willed away thoughts of black hair and sardonic golden eyes to focus on the task at hand.
"Welp. Looks like it's gonna be a while," Roman said and fished out a cigar, though he put it back after a moment's hesitation. "Ugh. Right, no traces. I'll be in the back."
"No, you won't," Adam growled, grabbing his arm and receiving an irritated glare. "We still need to check this hallway and the back storage."
He didn't fight when the arm was ripped away. "And I've gone too long without this. I'll be over in a bit, just give me a sec."
"You can indulge in your self-destructive habits when the mission is complete. Someone might notice the trail of smoke when you're outside, considering that we're trying to keep a low profile."
"Yeah, but look at the place! It's not like smoking and shooting up around here isn't normal. Haven't you noticed all the needles and shit outside?"
Adam silently glared.
"...alright, geez," the thief grumbled, pushing past and running a hand through his ruffled hair. The man's normally pristine overcoat and bowler hat were smudged with dirt and grease, a far cry from the gentlemanly image he often liked to sport. Adam never understood why, considering that being in the thick of the fight meant that you were going to finish it bloody, sweaty and dirty; Roman abandoned the huntsman's life a little over a decade ago, though he remained tight-lipped about his time back at Beacon. Not that it mattered since none of that was relevant to their objective.
An objective that was quite frankly a waste of time.
They existed for a single purpose: to fight for faunus equality. Though the Belladonnas would've never condoned such tactics, overt discrimination in many parts of Remnant somewhat dwindled over the fear of reprisal. Blake and others argued against the path of fear, of course, since they erroneously believed that dialogue remained the only path to change.
In the end, it was the results that mattered, and he'd gladly ensure their enemies paid for progress in blood.
Frowning, Adam followed Roman through a door at the end that descended into the basement. The rickety steps groaned under their weight, but before long they found themselves surrounded by a darkness that somehow seemed...heavier. Stifling. His senses were reacting, and even Roman's vague outline seemed to stiffen.
The thief quietly swore and fumbled around, then made a content sound when he found a switch on the wall and clicked. Adam squinted as only a few lights flared to life, each looking just as old as many of the wares upstairs. A few rows of shelves and large cabinets lined the middle and walls of the room, though it was clear that there was more to it that remained shrouded in shadow.
Roman glanced at a broken lightbulb and grimaced. "Rundown shop and all, but this place gives me the creeps. I'll start over here."
Adam grunted and went opposite, gingerly making his way around and occasionally peeking at what lay in storage. There were a few obsolete mecha-shift weapons from the Great War here, glass displays filled with watches and necklaces here...
And an offended feeling quickly gained strength in his heart. His dark sense of humour - a closely guarded trait hidden to all but his ex-girlfriend - thought about running in the china shop, but it was quickly quashed. Is this what Sienna Khan and the top brass were up to these days? Have they too lost their ambition to liberate faunus, abusing their power for personal gain? Such was not unheard of from those in high places, and he had long harboured doubts about her leadership. But never before had he come so fucking close to losing it.
...because why, for the past several months, had Sienna Khan ordering the White Fang to steal from museums and antiquities for fucking jewelry!?
A small tap on his foot interrupted his thoughts, and he looked down to pick up the small bottle that held something small and thin. He emptied the lone content, scrutinizing with some interest the weathered key that looked almost...chthonic in nature. Something about it didn't feel right.
"Hmm? What did you find?"
Roman sauntered over and made to grab it, though Adam pulled away.
"It's a key. I hear that it grants access to places that would otherwise remain unreachable."
"Fuck off," he sighed, pushing past and staring into the darkened parts of the room. "I have my uses. If we found something like that, we might as well figure out what it opens."
"Hmm."
The further Roman led them away from the working light, the more it reminded him of those silly horror films that some of the younger recruits watched, but here, he was the exact opposite. He relished in the darkness, despite Blake's occasional complaints for him to wear less edgy clothing, being clad in black made it easier to ambush and conduct reconnaissance.
Eventually coming to the other end, Adam felt mildly intrigued to see such a large basement under an unassuming shop, even if it wasn't his business. Splitting up, Roman hummed thoughtfully from the other side of an aisle, while he found himself looking around curiously examining high and low different artifacts that lay forgotten on shelves and cabinets.
"Find anything yet?"
"No," Adam replied, putting down a rusted lantern before being drawn to a small, empty space between shelves.
"...no, indeed..."
"Right, well, there's nothing over here, and whaddya have...over...here..."
They silently studied the space for a minute, then traded looks that for once lacked hostility.
"You don't think..."
Adam hummed.
Roman sighed, glancing at where one portion of the wall looked somewhat newer than the rest of it. "Only one way to find out."
Adam hummed again, unsheathing Wilt and holding it aloft. "Give me your best shot."
"Huh? Why?"
"Just do it."
The thief raised an eyebrow but complied as he retreated a couple of steps and suddenly dashed. Using his Semblance, Adam parried Roman's cane and redirected the energy to the wall, breaking it open with a crashing boom.
Black and orange stared at the tunnel and the small safe embedded on the wall opposite, all of which were shrouded by a darkness that immediately had his instincts flaring. The air itself seemingly had a weight to it when there was nothing in it barring dust.
"What...what the hell is all this...?"
Roman slowly breathed and brandished his cane like an actual cudgel. "I don't like this. I really don't."
Tch. Master thief, his ass. Adam sighed and stepped in, but while the end was barely visible, each step proved hesitant as he powered on through sheer force of will alone. Roman shone light from behind as he reached the safe, but at least the mysterious key proved a perfect fit despite its age.
The moment he unlocked it, however, a veritable crescendo of whispers and breathing filled the small tunnel.
His heart rate spiked while Roman gasped and his scroll clattered to the ground, almost inaudible amidst the disembodied voices. The two stood still with bated breath for what felt like forever until they slowly faded away.
For the first time since he saw the wraith, Adam felt nervous.
Roman silently grabbed his scroll and shone its light into the safe, revealing a small, dark indigo orb, wrapped in decaying paper decorated with a familiar eye and tear.
"...this is fucked," Adam whispered, grabbing it with a spare cloth he used to clean his blade and roughly giving it to Roman. He then pushed out of the tunnel into the darkness of the bigger room, and the sounds of cautious footsteps revealed Deery and Perry making their way over.
"Sir, is...everything alright?"
"The boys reported hearing loud noises downstairs."
"I'm fine," he growled, glancing back as they were joined by an apprehensive Torchwick. "This was a mistake."
"...sir?"
"We're supposed to fight oppression to aid faunus, not worsen it."
Adam deeply breathed out, feeling the rage he repressed all night boil to the surface. While this was leagues easier than breaking into a museum, it did little to stymie the raw fury that had him confronting the shaken thief.
"No more," he seethed, making sure to get up in the thief's face. "We're done robbing museums for your stupid trinkets. We shall uphold our end of the bargain with the cargo, but no more of this. If Sienna wants to play cult leader, she can do it without wasting the White Fang's time."
Roman stayed silent.
"I hope whatever that thing is will satisfy Cinder, because we could've been liberating faunus instead of ruining their livelihoods."
"She...she will be."
Adam glared at him for what felt like a minute before wheeling around and storming for the exit, followed by the two grunts glancing uncertainly between themselves. After their footsteps faded away, Roman sighed and leaned against the wall, silently cursing as memories of simpler times and heists threatened to return.
"...actually, I honestly don't know. I have a feeling she'll want us to get even more moon pearls or other equally shady shit if this ain't enough...dammit."
Scrutinizing the odd orb, he silently pleaded to see some sort of sign that yes, it was indeed worth all the trouble. While the runes on the talisman appeared to be an upright version of the mark on the wraith's chest, the more he looked into the moon pearl, he could've sworn he saw something stirring. Something alive...
"Excuse me?"
Roman froze.
"...um, mister? Are you lost?"
He slowly turned to face the voice that squeaked from his left.
A faint, pale blue light glowed softly from the rusted lantern, revealing it held by a little faunus girl sitting atop a barrel.
Roman remained frozen.
"You...you should go soon," she continued, tilting her head to show her bear ears ripped apart and her other eye glowing with the corruption of Malice. Adrenaline restored his movement when she hopped off, at least enough to take a step back.
The little girl smiled sadly. "The master doesn't like it when I make friends, and he might come back soon too. Please. Before it's too late..."
Face completely white, Roman nodded and ignored how the orb glowed a deep purple, reflecting the image of a snake, or how she faded in and out from the light.
He walked away without looking back even once.
x==)======+
"Yang would never do that!"
"I saw him attack me! I swear!"
"Yeah! My sister isn't anything like that -"
"I defended myself because he struck first! I didn't even have my Aura up -"
"Yang is an exemplary student, teammate and -"
"- I honestly thought Mercury was going to kill me!"
"ENOUGH!" General Ironwood roared, shocking Jaune and the seven others in RWBY's dorm to silence. While his shoulders slowly fell, the stress on his and Professor Goodwitch's faces remained.
"Enough," he sighed, turning off the TV that was quietly repeating news segments depicting what everyone else but Yang saw: she looked startled, to her credit, but Mercury clearly raised his hands in surrender before receiving a shotgun-infused punch to the kneecap.
Jaune still couldn't believe what he saw, missing it with Pyrrha the exact moment it happened. Yang was energetic, flirtatious and stubborn to a fault, but vicious as a descriptor didn't apply in the slightest.
"...unfortunately the footage says otherwise, and having personally checked over the tapes and equipment, I can confirm that they were all working in perfect order."
Ruby defiantly rose from her spot on the bed. "But -!"
"Please. Let us finish,," Professor Goodwitch interrupted, holding up a hand. "We, along with the rest of your teachers know that you four - and indeed, JNPR as well - are generally good students, and acting out like this wouldn't be normal for any of you."
The general despondently linked his arms behind his back. "Personally, I believe that this may have been an overload of stress and adrenaline. When you're out on the battlefield, it's easy for your judgment to become clouded. You may see things that simply aren't there. However, the reality remains; Mercury Black is currently en route to Haven to be with his family, but the next update we receive regarding his medical status may very well determine his future as a huntsman."
Yang never looked so crushed.
"...regretfully, I must inform Team RWBY of their official disqualification from the tournament."
Jaune leaned back on the wall as shock gave way to sympathy, while Pyrrha kept her gaze blank and focused on the floor between her feet.
"I am sorry," Ironwood said, inclining his head in respect. "Believe me...I know how you feel. You're not the only one to see ghosts from time to time."
Yang's head fell. "...it was no ghost..."
"Medical and mental services are still available," Glynda continued. "I strongly advise you to make use of them...it may help more than you know."
They remained frozen in suffocating silence, listening to the two teachers close the door and after that, the muted wind that drifted in from the afternoon air. Ruby shuffled her feet anxiously, silver eyes focused on her sister, while the rest of them sat in various states of denial.
"Y-you guys believe me, right?" Yang eventually spoke, casting her gaze around the room.
"Duh!" Ruby replied first, nodding vigorously as if it was the most certain thing in the world. "Of course we believe you! You're my sister. You'd never lie about something like this!"
"...and you're hotheaded and obnoxious," Weiss replied, her eyes a bastion of strength that the taller girl desperately needed. "But not cruel. Well, maybe with the puns," she slipped with a small smile, to which Yang returned a weaker one. "But not like this. Never like this."
"Precisely. If there's anything we can do to help, please let us know," Ren supplied with an eager nod from Nora. "The Yang Xiao-Long we know and love is anything but heartless."
"And from one blonde to another, we gotta stick together, you know? We got you, Yang."
Seeing her nearly tear up felt as hard as watching the replays themselves, an instance which Pyrrha echoed by sending her an encouraging nod.
"B-Blake?"
The cat faunus remained silently downtrodden.
"Blake? You believe me, right?" Yang asked again, lips quirking in a painful ghost of a smile. "You're my partner and all...and I know you're with me on this..."
"...I want to believe you."
Weiss looked aghast, while Ruby's jaw dropped in disbelief.
"What's that supposed to mean!?"
"...oh."
"Please! Let me explain," Blake said, holding her hands out to steady their fraying emotions. "It's just that a long time ago, I...I had someone very dear to me change. Someone I trusted with all my heart, and slowly but surely, he gradually changed for the worst. You're not him and you'll never be, but...I'm sorry. I can't help but feel like I'm going through all that again."
She sat up and looked Yang square in the eyes. "I want to trust you. I will trust you - just please tell me that you were attacked. Not the other way around. Promise me that you're telling nothing but the truth."
A hint of her familiar strength rose to the surface as Yang cleared her throat and wiped away a solitary tear.
"I promise."
"And I believe you. Thank you."
The blonde looked relieved, though her spirit retreated within as she once more grew uncomfortably distant, gazing languidly outside the window.
"I...I think we should give her some space," Ruby whispered, leaning against her sister in assurance before rising. "I say we go to the cafe to clear our heads. Do you want anything, sis?"
A shake of her head.
"We'll get out of your hair, then," Weiss tentatively smiled, and Jaune followed suit as they all left the room. Pyrrha quickly gave her farewells and returned to their dorm, while Ruby and Blake waved goodbye as they made for the cafeteria.
"I think we'll join them," Nora breathed, the once bubbly girl considerably mellowed. "We'll bring back some food if you guys want...?"
Jaune handed her some lien. "I'm in the mood for a burger, actually. Make sure they give extra pickles too."
The ginger giggled and saluted him, while Ren nodded back before being dragged along by his partner.
"Well. I guess I better get going too -"
"Wait."
Jaune paused right before he could head inside his dorm as the normally confident heiress dropped her mask. After she crossed her arms and sighed, he couldn't say he was used to seeing her so resigned.
"...this is a mess."
"Yeah. You're telling me."
"Of course. You usually don't get things the first time around."
He cringed. "Ouch..."
"It was a joke, you dunce," Weiss sighed again. "Apparently I'm not that successful when it comes to lightening the mood."
"Uh. Well, at least you tried, right?"
"Hmph. Well, I'm not here for pity. Things are problematic as they stand. What happened to Yang...I don't believe for a second that she'd do something like that. Yang's not that kind of person."
"Again," Jaune replied reassuringly, "if there's anything we can do -"
"I kno - er, we know. Yang knows. Thank you," Weiss replied with a trace of a smile before it fell uncertainly. "I hate to be abrupt, but speaking of which..."
He nodded again, ready to help out any way he can.
"...it's about your...powers, actually."
Abrupt indeed. Suspicion stilled his breath as the heiress steeled herself for what she obviously felt was a personal question.
It wasn't exactly far off the mark.
"Oh. I, um, thought you didn't believe me."
"I don't. At least I don't think I do. I normally can't stand what is not proven scientifically."
Jaune briefly worried if she was going to ask him to become a test subject in the same way he once thought Ozpin would.
Weiss cleared her throat. "Before all this, Blake mentioned that she was wondering if there's any link between ancient mythology and all that other stuff you told us about. Considering my own curiosity about the subject, I agreed to help her."
Careful, Jaune, Link suddenly interjected. Promise not what you are unable to keep or would otherwise jeopardize your safety.
"Right," he replied automatically. "So...what can I do, then?"
"Is there anything tangible you can give us? A relic, an artifact, something physical to help prove what you're saying is true?"
"Ah."
"Well, Link? Any takers?"
Frankly, it still amazes me that they consider the Triforce nothing more than some sailor's tattoo, his mentor grumbled. Otherwise, we only have photos from the Temple of Time.
"Ah. The mural!" Jaune thought, noticing Weiss eyeing him expectantly. "I'll text you photos from our mission into the forest, but I promise I'll get something physical. Arc's promise."
Weiss studied him for a bit before she stepped away, apparently satisfied with what she found.
"Hmm. See that you do..."
Jaune nodded.
"...and one more question. Is Pyrrha okay as well? She's been a little down lately."
"Ah, well, I hope so," he sheepishly replied, scratching the back of his head. "Maybe she's just stressed with the tourney and what happened to Yang, but we'll see."
"For the better, hopefully," Weiss agreed, sparing a glance as she began to walk away. "Thank you."
Jaune watched her turn the corner out of sight, and for the longest time, stood alone with nothing but the empty hum of the deserted hallway. After what felt like forever, he went inside and plunked down on his bed beside Pyrrha's.
"Guess I'll have to find something convincing to give them. Don't know if the photos are gonna be enough for them."
Hmm. It doesn't help when you have nothing that can strengthen your case.
"Technically I do, but like you said, it's kinda stupid that they don't see it that way. Is there anything around here where I can find some sort of item to give them?"
Link hummed in thought, though he knew that it was a question he was better suited to answer since he knew Vale; the land was no longer Hyrule, so while there certainly were things scattered about, the question remained of where to dig, much less if any were local.
..."local" being around the city itself, at least for the short term. He couldn't just hop on a bullhead to the Temple of Time and return with the Master Sword like a souvenir. That should be good enough, though he shuddered upon remembering what was ostensibly the closest he'd ever come to death.
I sense a hint of nostalgia with your worry. What are you thinking of?
"Think if we show Weiss and Blake the Master Sword, they'd believe me?"
When time comes for you to draw the sacred blade, your friends will have seen enough to wish you were lying.
Jaune sighed, haphazardly removing and stashing his armour underneath his bed. He could only imagine what was going through his team's minds then; a pang of guilt remained when he remembered that they nearly died in the first place because of him, even if some small selfish part reminded him that he led them all to safety in the end.
Could he face a team that lost Ren? That lost Nora?
That lost Pyrrha?
It was an immensely sobering realization. Jaune glanced behind him, Pyrrha having changed into a sweater and pair of shorts and watching some video on her scroll. It honestly looked like she was just blankly staring at the screen, but it was an infinitely better sight than seeing her still and cold upon the steps of the pedestal, much like what he dreamed about the morning then.
He frowned when he saw that it was Lisa Lavender's latest Vytal Festival news special.
"I can't imagine how Yang must've felt when that happened. Hopefully Mercury'll be better once he gets back."
Pyrrha nodded. "Y-yeah. She's not the kind of person to do something so cruel."
Jaune sighed and hesitantly sat on the edge of her bed.
"Maybe it really was an accident, but it kinda feels similar, you know? Yang knows the truth and all, but no matter what she says, no one believes her but her friends."
Her eyes fell as she removed her earbuds and stashed her scroll under her pillow.
"I...I suppose," Pyrrha conceded, sitting against the wall and huddling her legs. "While she has the only people that matter to her on her side, it must be daunting when it feels like the whole world is calling for your head."
"I can't even be able to imagine it. How many millions of people in five countries...?"
A hum.
Jaune hummed back, but as the seconds ticked on and the silence slowly became awkward, the concern which was temporarily forgotten returned full force, and against his better judgment, he decided to once more press the issue.
"Pyr, do you...do you want me to leave you alone?"
She met his eyes and shrugged. "Um, sure. It's fine."
"...I don't think you are."
Sighing, Jaune climbed into bed beside her and tentatively draped an arm over, holding her close. He prayed that he didn't make a bad call as Pyrrha was initially surprised, but his worry eased when she snuggled closer, seemingly aching for comfort.
The air of safety was just what they both needed. Part of him thought back to that morning when she talked with Ozpin, but Jaune forced it away to focus on what mattered the most.
Pyrrha eventually shifted and let his arm drop despite looking like she didn't want to leave his warmth. "I'm sorry for making you worry."
"It's okay," he grinned, though the one returned felt half-hearted at best. "I just feel like there's really something going on if you've been down for this long. Maybe we should call it my sixth sense? Dense in everything but super perspective when it comes to seeing how my friends are doing."
She raised an amused eyebrow. Good. Some humour can help to keep things easier. "Do you mean 'super perceptive'?"
"Eh, to-may-to to-mah-to."
Pyrrha gave a softer, more genuine smile, though it soon fell and with it, the amiable atmosphere.
"Hey. What's going on? You know you can talk to me, right?"
A sigh and she looked away. "I know."
"So...I mean..."
"As I said, I...I'll come to you when I feel like I can," Pyrrha carefully replied, choosing her words. "There's some...personal things I have to consider, much like when you waited to tell us about who you really were. I just need to find the right time to say it."
"Yeah but look where that got me," Jaune said, sitting up. "I understand it's personal, but you were also right when you said after Forever Fall that it's not healthy to keep things bottled up and we need to be there for each other when we struggle. I've learned my lesson. You never know if you'll ever find the right time."
She bit her lip. "This is different."
"Different how?"
"Because...because you'd understand. No, I know what you're trying to do - and believe me, I really appreciate it - but if you were in my shoes you'd do the same."
"I - what? And how would you know that?"
"Because I know you very well, and that's something I'll never regret as long as I'm in Beacon," she coolly replied. "Please, Jaune...can we drop the subject?"
Jaune wanted to comply, but he was determined to not let Pyrrha follow in his footsteps.
"Then that includes knowing what was right and wrong. It was wrong for me to keep you guys in the dark when it was urgent. This kinda feels like the same."
"It won't be. I just need time to think it out."
"How much time are you asking for?"
"I...it's...please don't micromanage..."
"It's not micromanaging, Pyr! I just don't want you to do what I did!"
"I won't!"
"And how would I know that?"
"Don't you trust me?"
"I do, but -"
"Then trust me now. Please," Pyrrha begged, a quiet sound in stark contrast to their borderline yelling. Jaune hadn't even noticed that they faced each other down across her bed, but as frustration gave way to guilt, so too did Pyrrha notice what they were doing and mellowed down.
"I'm sorry," Jaune timidly replied, scared to push her any further. "I never meant to -"
"No, I'm...I'm sorry too," she agreed, looking equally regretful. Clearing her throat, she schooled her composure as if under the scrutiny of an audience, though he still noticed the way her lip quivered.
"End of the week, I'll tell you then. It's all I have left anyway..."
A chill ran down his spine at the last whispered bit, clearly a reaction more than intention. "...a week?"
Emerald eyes widened in shock. "I...you heard - oh. Oh no."
"Pyrrha...? Is this...Ozpin -"
"I'm sorry. Excuse me," Pyrrha replied, hiding her face while making for the door. Following after her, Jaune called out but she didn't respond as she sprinted down the hallway, leaving him with an arm outstretched.
"Pyr..."
"...Jaune? What's going on?"
He wheeled to see a worried Ren behind him with a bag of takeout.
"Oh. Did you, um, hear all that?"
"The tail end of it. Pretty sure Yang did as well," he evenly replied, nodding towards RWBY's dorm. "Is she okay?"
"No," Jaune gritted out as he followed Ren's gaze. Never had he seen her so guarded and desperate to keep it that way. Part of him felt hypocritical for not being patient, but wasn't Pyrrha doing the same with their positions reversed?
"Or maybe I should've stayed quiet and just let it ride out. But I didn't want to let what I did happen to her as well...ah, dammit. I've blown this, haven't I?"
You most certainly did, Link answered, voice emotionless. Judging. I understood where you're coming from, but when time comes to be patient, you. Remain. Bloody. Patient. You know very well that emotion clouds judgment, as you no doubt just lived through for the past several minutes. From the Master Sword to this, why do you never listen when it matters the most?
Jaune's head fell.
"Can you tell me what's going on?"
He didn't know where to begin. His partner was in some sort of trouble that was decidedly very serious, but judging by what Pyrrha said, she had a week until she could tell him.
...
...
...it awfully sounded like that timeframe was set for her. Why else would it be so specific?
...
Unless...
"Jaune?"
His guilt became tainted with a sudden deluge of anger.
Jaune. Careful now.
"Ozpin," he quietly seethed, turning and nearly bumping into Ren. "He knows what's up."
"Whoa, hold on," Ren replied alarmed, quickly placing the food down and an arm on his shoulder. "If this concerns Ozpin, be careful. Respectful. Don't make things worse if you storm into his office. It might upset Pyrrha as well."
Her name steadied his racing heart rate, but it was a bucket of water against a forest fire.
"And it was because of him that she's like this in the first place," Jaune retorted, slipping away from the ninja's grasp. "Don't worry, I'll be chill. I think. I just need answers from the source."
Ren's warnings faded as he took a left, down the stairs then exited the dorm, pausing beneath the evening sky and focusing upon the tower that gave Beacon its name.
With angry conviction and a distant voice in his head calling for restraint, Jaune decided it was high time he and the Headmaster sat down and talked.
x==)======+
Churning gears melded with Lisa Lavender's TV voice to create a droning sort of ambience, that perfect balance of white noise to help spur rather than hinder concentration. It was the perfect setup for Ozpin as he sat behind his desk relishing the brief respite at a time where the kingdoms were supposed to celebrate peace and stability.
How quickly had it become the time to test them.
The populace was in an uproar, security was compromised as Ironwood was forced to quickly leave with a large portion of his fleet to neutralize a potential incursion south of the city, and the past several hours proved a diplomatic nightmare as he reassured the councils of Atlas, Mistral and Vale that everything was under control.
With the most demanding tasks having passed, it became easy to ignore the constant media fearmongering and the angry comments on the CCT-Net demanding jail time for his students. After all, this had Salem written all over it, and knowing her, it was just another move in their eternal game of chess.
Ozpin pored over the various relics and artifacts strewn over his desk. With Glynda, Port and Oobleck handling PR, he finally had enough time to figure out any potential link with Salem's plans. Inciting chaos was a known strategy, but merely a stepping stone in creating favourable conditions.
"...especially since she is patient before striking decisively. Always a method to the madness and always a way out; chaos isn't the pit. Chaos is a ladder. Humanity climbs, and we must not let ourselves fall lest we break, for fear lies at the bottom and cuts deeper than a sword ever could."
Memories of his knighthood days at a court rife with political intrigue briefly came over, but they were banished as he carefully flipped a page in the Book of Mudora. Reading the ancient Calatian text came as easy as brewing his favourite coffee blend, and just as addicting.
"...a young boy clothed in green appeared as if from nowhere. Wielding the blade of evil's bane, he sealed the dark one away and gave the land light..."
Another flip. "...a day came when a fell wind began to blow across the kingdom. The great evil that all thought had been forever sealed away by the hero once again crept forth from the depths of the earth, eager to resume its dark designs..."
Ozpin frowned.
A few of the most ancient stories occasionally mentioned some sort of dark cataclysm, brought upon by man's eternal lust for power. During an expedition to the petty seafaring kingdoms of Vytal, one peculiar sailing tradition was to toss coins overboard so that the vengeful spirits of sunken kingdoms granted safe passage. Though Salem lacked the magic to raise continents from the sea, every legend held some kernel of truth.
And if this story of winds and earth was to be carefully considered...
The next page was ripped in two, but Ozpin was prepared. He reached into a pile of old parchments requisitioned from a forgotten archive and placed one into the bottom half.
Glancing between that and the photo of the mural on his terminal, a wave of astonishment washed over upon seeing the Vytalian legend in an incredibly reminiscent style. Whereas a demon rose into the mural's sky, the Book showed it crawling out from the mountains beside a castle; after that, the kingdom was engulfed by darkness and drowned beneath the waves.
But the next part...?
The first panel that was ripped out showed who were presumably the kingdom's denizens praying beneath a shining gold triangle, and the one after, a boy in green slaying the demon beneath the same.
Ozpin breathed out and leaned back in his chair, briefly noting his desk's silent alarm.
"...interesting. So there may be more to the scant mentions of chosen heroes, but what worries me is that they only seem to appear when the need is most dire. While Salem may be working to gain the Triforce, what is this darkness that troubled the lives of these heroes? What kind of evil is she tampering with?"
The boy with a sword silently stared back.
"...and will these heroes appear once more?"
The elevator chimed as its doors opened, and while there was no green, the teen's blue eyes burned with the fury of one.
Ozpin gently put the Book down as Jaune Arc calmly walked over despite looking anything but.
"Ah, Mr Arc. To what do I owe the pleasure -"
"What did you talk to Pyrrha about?"
"I'm sorry, come again -"
"Pyrrha. My partner - what did you talk about this morning?"
He arched an eyebrow and leaned back. "Ms Nikos and I discussed your team's performance in the Vytal Festival. Though your team-based battles and duos were successful, the pressure can be heavy going into the finals, even for one like her. Once the Festival resumes, of course."
Jaune silently stared at him in a battle of wills, though it was a foregone conclusion as the boy sighed and narrowed his eyes.
"Professor...you're lying."
"Excuse me?"
"You're lying!" he cried, his hands clenching in anger. "If that was the case, Pyrrha would've told us already! Her team! Her friends! I know my partner better than anyone, and whatever you said is crushing her! I mean...come on! Can't you tell the truth for once!?"
Something snapped within him, and with extreme patience, he let the tense quiet linger in a move he often used to unsettle those he was confronting.
"Mr Arc," Ozpin replied, slowly walking around to meet him. "Responsibility is a heavy burden; you yourself know with the power you carry and the team you lead. In fact, I commend you for placing your friends first over yourself. As I said the last we talked, my share is leagues heavier than yours, as I lead the defence of a kingdom and coordinate with the others for that of the world."
Hazel eyes suddenly flared with Aura and a green light exploded out from him, stumbling Jaune into a seat while green electricity crackled down his cane.
"While I empathize with you, part of my responsibility involves running this academy and serving as your Headmaster. I may be lax with many things, but it would be wise to remember the disparity between our positions, much less our levels of skill."
Jaune sat dazed and seemingly appeared to be talking with himself, but as his Triforce mark slowly began to glow, Ozpin let a little more of his Aura flash across his body.
"...I'm sorry, sir," the boy conceded, looking defeatedly out the window. "...I...I don't know what came over me...I'm just...a lot of things are going on right now."
His eyes softened as he went back to his seat, letting the silence linger shortly as he considered Jaune's words. "Unfortunately so. I trust Ms Xiao-Long is doing well?"
"The best she can. Yang's taking it pretty hard, though we're gonna make sure she knows she's not alone."
"Good," he replied, taking a sip of coffee long gone cold. "But let's not dance around the point. You mentioned that Ms Nikos is troubled, and it is true that I lied," Ozpin sighed, earning a glare. "Never regarding my concern for my students, but our conversation this morning was no less serious. Your ire is not unfounded."
Jaune tensed and remained silent.
"Mr Arc, when you discovered that you possessed a piece of the Triforce, how did you feel?"
"Surprised, to say the least," he shrugged. "And pretty overwhelming when I learned exactly what people have done to claim it. There were a lot of sleepless nights before I got used to this."
"Hmm. What if I told you that Ms Nikos may be in the same boat as you?"
Jaune paled. "Are you saying that Pyrrha has a part of the Triforce?"
"None of the sort," he quickly assured him. "I have a feeling you'd immediately know otherwise. This is different, albeit similar in many aspects."
"The...good kind?"
Ozpin sighed.
"Not particularly."
At least Jaune took the explanation much better compared to someone who didn't know magic existed. It was troubling enough when he told Qrow and Raven back in the day, especially when the latter used his gifts to run away from her responsibilities; conversely, Summer was all too happy to learn that her eyes allowed her to more efficiently kill Grimm to save lives.
In the end, the truth was subjective as he recounted the tale of the Maidens to Jaune, though much like when he talked to Pyrrha, Ozpin hid the depth of his involvement in their creation and safeguarding of the Relics. Most importantly, he could see the gears turning in his head as he realized the eerie similarity between their positions.
The only difference was that Pyrrha had a choice, though either option was equally defeating.
"You...you -"
"- gave her a choice, Mr Arc. Let me be clear when I say that this was the last resort."
"What? Why!? There's gotta be other people out there that can do something like this!"
"Believe me, we tried," Ozpin sighed, turning to the side. "While we found several promising alternatives, for various reasons they proved unsuitable in the end. We could spend all day talking about why they paled in comparison to Pyrrha."
Jaune's eyes narrowed. "No way. I don't believe you."
"Then I don't know what to tell you," he replied with finality. "When I became Headmaster, I vowed to do whatever it takes to protect my staff, my students and this kingdom. This is not something that I considered lightly, and if recent circumstances were more favourable, we would not be having this conversation."
"Is this because of what happened to Yang?"
"Time has grown ever shorter when it was already in short supply," Ozpin continued, gazing out the window. "I will not have ourselves unprepared when chaos breaks and runs rampant. Once again, let me reiterate that it is her choice. The issue will not be forced should she decline."
"But you know full well that she won't," Jaune seethed, breathing heavily. "Pyrrha's brave, kind and selfless. She's not gonna say no, not when she'd doom others to take her place. Pyrrha's your perfect candidate. This...this isn't fair. For her, for anyone..."
His head hung low. "It is not."
"I...and what did she mean by the end of this week? Is that when -"
"She must decide," Ozpin finished for him. "Seven days until she chooses the path her life will take."
Jaune remained quiet.
"For what it's worth, I am sorry," he sighed, taking a seat once more. "I still remember the names and faces of those who volunteered to shield the lives of innocents, including those who did not return. It is the unfortunate reality our positions grant us, even if we fervently wish otherwise...while I cannot rescind my request, if there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."
The silence grew expectant as Jaune mulled his words, and deep down Ozpin prepared for what he might ask. One idea came to mind, and after some thought, he decided to offer it in a gesture of goodwill.
"... also, there might be something that may be of interest to you."
The blonde looked up skeptically.
"An expedition in the far northeast of Solitas intended to scope out ruins amid the Snowbound Forest. In short, the expedition ended abruptly after its members were slaughtered in the depths. Before they were sworn to secrecy, the few surviving members recanted the sight of ancient creatures buried inside, along with a certain object; it was apparently golden in nature and frozen deep within the ice..."
"Are you saying that -"
"We cannot be certain for now, but we very well may have found another piece of the Triforce," Ozpin replied. "We shall safeguard its location, and perhaps involve your team with another expedition in the future."
Jaune nodded uncertainly. "But why tell me this now?"
"Because I want you to know that I'm on your side. I understand that it feels otherwise, but I am not here to be your enemy."
"Well, I still don't trust you, even though I have no choice," he replied. "I...um, may have something to ask. Team RWBY...well, mainly Weiss and Blake need a bit more proof that I'm telling the truth. Something physical to back everything I said up."
Ozpin took a picture of the current page and carefully slid the Book of Mudora over.
"Take good care of it and return it as soon as you're finished. I would not risk it falling into the wrong hands. Show no one else."
"I will," the team leader replied, gingerly closing the book. "Um, is that all?"
"Yes, you are dismissed. Spend some time with your team, Jaune...I have a feeling that things may only get worse from here."
He considered him for a moment, nodded politely and then walked away without a word.
And as Jaune disappeared into the elevator, Ozpin downed the rest of his cold coffee before contemplating the picture on his scroll. The boy in green stared back with nary a word, unyielding of the truth behind his life, his history and his purpose.
But Ozpin was not deterred, for the legends spoke of their eventual triumph over evil. Beacon, Vale - and indeed, all of Remnant - needed to be ready for whatever darkness Salem intended to exhume. Though time remained lacking, he would do his best to ensure they were prepared.
The same couldn't be said for Jaune. The boy had potential and carried the hope of generations, perhaps one day enough to turn the tide. But for now, he had a long way to go before he could be called a hero.
x==)======+
For the first time in what felt like forever, Salem felt alive.
Since the Brothers departed Remnant several millennia ago, so too did her concern for food, rest and self-preservation. The rest of her mortal pawns still required such things, with Watts and Hazel renovating much of the interior with modern amenities, but oddities like scrolls, dust stoves and electricity were effectively passing amusement that occasionally reminded her that she too was once human. Immortality tended to make things a little less exciting.
Until now.
After a quick examination, Salem gripped the Trident and cast it back into the centre stone. The Malice around it ebbed, flowed and attempted to reach out, but with a flick of her hand, it stilled within the pool that spiderwebbed into a series of intricate grooves.
If she was being honest, the knowledge she'd learned to command the powers that be was not just intriguing, but perhaps one of the most exciting things to pass in the last couple of centuries. A murder of Nevermore seemingly agreed from atop the rafters of the basement's ceiling, cawing loudly at the sight of the bubbling pinkish sludge until it burst with a soft pop, revealing a human-sized skull burning with green flames.
The Green Bubble breathlessly laughed as it hovered over like an attentive bird, though when she released it into the air, a few of the small Grimm shrieked and dove for the kill. Half the group caught on fire and burned to death, though the Bubble was knocked down and its flames extinguished.
Salem chuckled as it was ripped apart, disappearing in a pile of feathers and soft purple smoke.
As the name implied, anything conjured of Malice was animated by a living, spiritual hatred that existed only to destroy. With her Grimm drawn to negative emotions, it was inevitable that these forces of nature would collide, leaving behind death and destruction in their wake with the pulverized remains of humanity in their midst.
But even that was a secondary objective. Ignoring the Nevermores' shrieks as another Green Bubble burst from the Malice, Salem's eyes roved over the various artifacts strewn about her desk; there was the Magic Mirror and a moon pearl beside it, both of which apparently once allowed travel into a forbidden dark world, a Labrynnan codex which taught her much of a shadow tribe's forbidden spells and knowledge, and of course, her reliquary necklace.
Her half of the Triforce of Power was obviously the most precious, though the others were no less significant; the cracked Magic Mirror still allowed Callows and Watts transport to a few select places, with the result of one trip ultimately ending with the wraith under her control - perhaps the most interesting of all the pawns she had under her control.
The fact that he held half of Courage warned her that the wheels of fate began to spin once more, threads of which have not been unravelled since an era predating even her and Ozma. It was a shame that the man couldn't talk, on account of the ugly wound that destroyed his vocal cords in life. What research into his origins yielded little beyond that he hailed from ancient Calatia - not her Calatia, as old kingdoms habitually adopted their predecessors' names - but a fallen kingdom predating even the Brothers. His understanding of her broken dialect all but confirmed it, and after much painstaking study, Salem placed a rough estimate of at least twenty-five thousand years since he last walked a living man.
When he last walked a living hero.
And according to Cinder, the suspected successor was nowhere near close to even remotely threaten their operations.
While sowing chaos was Cinder's focus, the boy's lack of skill - one Jaune Arc - ensured that she was temporarily unobstructed. He and the impotent sacred blade would have to be watched for now. What few books that mentioned such spoke glory of sealing darkness, but for her, it served as a warning.
Sighing, Salem headed to the large bottom-right torch and gently placed the moon pearl in the centre, watching the Malice slowly engulf it. One down, two to go, and thankfully, with Cinder's report stating that her thief acquired another, she wouldn't have to wait long.
She walked back to her desk and took a weathered sealskin tome that was fraying at the seams, mentally readying herself for another long, arduous night of translation. It was an odd, but ultimately crucial find by Tyrian when he, Watts and Hazel were sent to search for the other pieces of the Triforce; of course, in typical Tyrian fashion, he murdered his way to freedom to steal it. At least the others could resume looking for Wisdom once they completed their operation in Vale, and maybe the scorpion zealot would be happy to see if that desert tribe had anything more to offer.
After all, time was a resource in plentiful supply, but regardless of the path she chose, it always took her one step closer.
Salem gently clasped her fingers around the necklace. The Triforce responded with a deep hum-like ring, one that pulled her deeper within herself and strengthened her meditation.
Even if it wasn't whole, its essence flowed through her body and spirit. It was only through the Golden Power that she pressed onward as dwelling upon it strengthened her resolve - and if she concentrated hard enough - guided her when she was lost.
Through the harsh, blinding light that demanded absolute confidence to wield its power, she could see that single eye of greed and hatred staring back at her. Judging her. And when Salem found herself truly confounded in her efforts, an odd idea or two answered her troubles after seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
It was a Faustian bargain; it knew of her intentions, she knew of its desires, but light and shadow were all too happy to cooperate.
/ AN \
Welcome back all to another chapter of A Descendant of Legends!
Thankfully the site's been finally fixed (for now), but quick reminder that should something like that happen again, I'll be posting a link to the most recent chapter's Google Doc on my profile so it can be read on PC. I know that for many others out there (including me) it's just not the same as having it on the big screen.
But I digress. Back to the chapter! Writing III-26 felt much smoother now that I've gotten the plot ball rolling again, especially now that it's time to dust off the drama boxing gloves. Parts of it were admittedly difficult to write as I wanted to strike a balance between sticking true to Jaune's character in this AU while naturally inserting conflict where both sides have decent points. It's necessary tension for what's about to come, and having the full roadmap for the rest of Arc III helped motivate me to finish this earlier. At this rate, if all goes well, Arc III should be finished by the new year, and Arc IV has already been fully laid out.
In any case, thanks for sticking around and the story thus far! Constructive criticism is always welcome, and hope to see you all next chapter!
Dragon lord Syed 101: Thanks! Only goes downhill from here, but otherwise agreed, myself included. I'm prepared to circumvent another site-wide error, but hopefully we all don't have to go through that so soon. Even if it's only been two weeks.
Fyr RedNight: Thank you! It will be a long time until things begin to lighten up.
AmuroLain: Chapter should be up and running now! A Google Doc link will be available on my profile if the site fails like that again.
Xealchim: I totally understand how you (and I think others as well) felt. Looking back, I wish I interspersed plot progression to give more substance alongside the fluffy scenes. As Marilyn Manson said, I need to see the forest for the trees, when I focused more on the overall picture and let progress on individual chapters stagnate. I've no regrets developing the character relationships, but it's an honest learning lesson going forward that it can be done without stalling things for too long.
Guest: Should be good to go now!
Guest: Thank you! Glad to know you like the Link scenes. He was there at the start and he'll be there at the very end.
hirshja: We shall see! Nevertheless, both characters have important roles that will be explored over the course of the story, more so the later arcs.
ConsumedPolecat: Thank you! Finding ways to integrate the plot of both universes and have them compliment each other was and still is a fun challenge, especially developing the conflict between Jaune and said demon in the further arcs. Hopefully Vol 8 doesn't throw any major changes, lol.
Roy4: Yes, the endgame has begun, and quicker than they'd like to think. The fates of Jaune and his friends remain in the hands of the Goddesses, to be discovered as they live out the next several days. Who knows who Wisdom and the rest of Power will claim?
Guest: Thank you! Glad you liked it.
The Legend of Zelda and RWBY are the respective properties of Nintendo and Rooster Teeth.