"I hate my life." Jaune muttered out. Shooting a quick look down, right into the maw of the gaping abyss he hung over.
Only the fraying rope connected to an old pulley that looked moments from giving standing between him and a fast descent into the towers darkened bowels.
Hands moving with cold, calculated efficiency he descended into the darkness as gently he could. Not wanting to crash trough the platform he was gunning trough when something broke.
The rope, the pulley, his patience, his sanity, his will to live.
He didn't know what was going to give, the familiar burn in his arms not helping to set his mind of things. Having found out that 'Oedon' was real, and very able to kill him with just shifting It's attention towards him, having answers just as many questions as it left him with. Some which should never see the light of day, not to mention be given any thought at all.
His guts might be screaming at him that this was the key he had been searching for. That if he followed the name, dug deeper, he would eventually stumble upon answers to what questions had been lurking in the back of his mind. Questions about the blood, about Yharnam, about runes, and about what condemned him to visit this god forsaken city whenever he slept.
His mind, on the other hand was screaming at him that some questions shouldn't be answered. That his answers would only lead him to worse and worse revelations. That only madness lied that way. Madness that wouldn't hesitate to shatter the carefully balanced house of cards he called psyche.
Shooting another quick glance into the depths bellow, Jaune mumbled a little prayer. With that, he let go, landing silently on the platform. Heart hammering in his chest, not daring to move a muscle, unless he wanted the platform to collapse. He wasn't blind to how downright rotted the wood looked. The beam was split into four, the planks were collapsing under their own weight, and rusted nails were eating trough anything around them.
Moving with agonizing slowness, not wishing to stress the platform more than necessary, he grabbed his hand lantern. Snowy blue flames sprouting to life, driving the abyss back with its soft rays.
Out from the darkness he saw the all too familiar floor tiling. Something that let a sigh of relief escape him. With his aura reserves, he hadn't been afraid to just jump to the bottom. His aura together with his vigour would make it more than doable.
The problem stemmed from not knowing what was down there. Not to mention how much aura it would take to survive. If he took a leap of faith, only to have his aura almost shatter and to find himself surrounded by enemies. While he wouldn't outright die, he wasn't willing to bet a life on him eking out a victory. He knew intimately that he was going to die again. But that didn't mean he was going to throw away memories just because he was reckless.
'Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.' Another lesson Yharnam had forced onto him.
The canopy of beast roars echoed up together with the tired snarls of Yharnam's mad men. Finally able to hear more than just his thundering heartbeat. Crocea Mors already drawn and ready in his hand.
For just a moment everything in the world took a backseat. No being's able to kill him with It's attention, no answers that left him chilled to the core.
Just him, his blade, and the hunt.
The second he felt his bloodlust rattle against its chains, the platform gave under him. Readying himself he felt coiled muscles taunt, ready to explode into action the second he landed on the ground. Only to be wet with a dust cloud when he crashed into the platform under.
"I wasn't expecting that." He muttered out. Rising to his full height, ignoring the death wail that escaped the platform in the process. "The platform is just as rotten as the earlier one, if not more so. Why didn't in collapse?" Muttering his thoughts to himself, he started investigating the little platform he now found himself on.
"What makes you so different?" He asked, running a gloved hand over the door, meeting nothing but healthy wood. The paint might be flaking slightly, but it was a wood that would last a hundred years. Maybe two hundred if it was given some occasional maintenance. Compared to the brittle wood of the platform, the difference couldn't be clearer. Just moving his boot left groves in the platform.
He wasn't blind to the fact that something mystical was at play here, even if part of him didn't want to acknowledge it after what he had experienced earlier. The platform should have collapsed, it was in no shape or form able to hold stop his momentum flat. Neither should it be able to hold his weight.
Resting both hands on the door, indecision gripped him. It would be so simple to just jump of the platform, forget that the door was ever here. Yet in the end his curiosity won out. Knowing full well that if he didn't explore now, he would only come here at a later date.
"Let's get this over with." He cursed slightly, resting his hands on the heavy wooden door before pushing.
With a loud groan, the door slowly gave way. Fighting him for every inch it gave. Until finally, the door was open. On weary feet he pushed on, carefully making his way down the staircase. Shuddering when he walked through an invisible veil. His eyes tearing, hushed whispers in his ears.
Furiously blinking away the tears, pushing past the whispers. Twirling Crocea Mors around in his hand, he readied himself for whatever obstacle or beast he would stumble upon.
The staircase was far shorter than expected, just a short walk down. Before he knew it, he had sat foot in a hidden alcove. Hidden away by time, drowned under shadows of Yharnam's towering buildings. Familiarity dawning on him the second his boots touched down on the cobbled stone.
Taking a deep breath, he allowed the familiar, dewy air, of the workshop too fill his lungs. Brows furrowing, a lingering taste of moisty mold in his mouth. With that he picked up the pace. Quickly making his way around the bend, expression falling further when his eyes landed on the once proud Worksop. Now only a memory of what was.
It looked like the Workshop, it felt like the Workshop, it even smelt like the Worksop. But it wasn't his Workshop.
It didn't have the faint hint of moonflowers. It was missing the faint echoing that haunted the dream. The ethereal quality that always lingered was gone. This wasn't some dream, it was real.
"This isn't my workshop." He muttered softly, it might be where the workshop, and maybe the dream, originated. Given how interconnected the two seemed. The all too familiar steps up the staircase filling him with a soft longing. A longing to have seen the Workshop in its full glory. With hunters making small talk before heading out. Masters teaching their apprentices their ways. A longing to not be alone any longer.
Growing up he had always wanted to be a knight, to be a hero helping those in need. In a way he had gotten his wish, he was a hero. Just not in the way he had expected. Hunters were the complete opposite of the hero's in the tales he grew up listening to. They were dirty, bloodthirsty, and with a penchant for murder. But in a city like Yharnam. Hunters were exactly what were needed.
Laying a hand on the familiar doors, he couldn't help but sight at how unfamiliar they felt. "Would I have done the same?" He couldn't help but wonder, feeling the weight of history that clung to this place.
'Yes'. He answered to himself without hesitation. Even if he had known what he did now, the answer would stay the same.
Stepping into the empty workshop, he couldn't help but notice how run down everything was. Books and paper freely scattered over a floor that was falling apart. The heart had long since gone cold, no candles burned. The light from his lantern only helping to make the workshop feel colder.
A quick look over to familiar bookshelves, his eyes roamed over familiar books. Some books he knew by heart, some he had only just started on, and some were on his to do list. Some titles he had never seen caught his eye, but he quickly dismissed them. He already had much on his plate, he wasn't going to add to it needlessly.
Absentmindedly snapping his fingers, life sprung to life in the lamp. Shining a soft whitish blue over the interior. Far too used to seeing the dreams lambs pop out up different places, he paid it no mind. Instead looking down at the workbench, trying to make some sense of the scribbled notes. Tasking when he only found what could be described as desperately scribbled madness. He cold barley make sense of the words; it wasn't a language he had stumbled upon in Yharnam. He was barley sure it was a language at all, just desperate gibberish.
Cautiously throwing a quick glance at the metaphorical elephant in the room, his curiosity eventually got the better of him. With careful steps he made his way over to the altar. An amalgamation of eyes and an umbilical cord laying innocently on the altar.
But Jaune wasn't one to trust what he his eyes told him. Not after everything, good and bad, but mostly bad he had endured in Yharnam. An indescribable feeling clung to him the more he stared at the cord. Reverence, solemnity, fear, greed and want. All mixing violently inside.
Pain blazed from his hand, shining a light so bright that the rune was clearly visible through his padded leather glove.
Using the pain to ground himself, all he could hear was his thunderous heartbeat. Swallowing dryly, his eyes rested on the umbilical cord. Taking in how some of the eyes blinked at him.
"I really must be going mad." He whispered in mortified awe.
Delight shone in the umbilical cords eyes. Full of life, joy, and beckoning. The entire umbilical cord wriggled in joy. Shadows coming out of their hiding places to dance with it. Otherworldly song descending over the empty workshop, filling in with a macabre imitation of life. Shadows of noble ladies and gentlemen dancing around, and trough him. Leaving a bone deep chill whenever they passed through him.
Tearing his eyes away from the umbilical cord, harsh whispers rang in his ears. Pushing past the rising vertigo he took in the empty workshop. Dancing shadows long gone. Music only a figment of imagination.
Against his better judgment, he looked back to the umbilical cord. This time met with dull, lifeless eyes.
Stepping closer, his gaze scoured the umbilical cord for anything out of the ordinary. The more he looked, he more he felt his gaze wandering. It looked eldritch. An abomination that shouldn't exist. Carefully grabbing the cord, he picked it up. Brow raising even further when it felt he had grabbed nothing but air. Yet moving his hand around proved that to be anything but true, the umbilical cord moving along with his hand.
He had half been expecting to meet another gruesome end. The memories of Oedon's presence coming to the forefront of his mind.
As another shiver raked his body, making him accidentally clench his hand. His eyes shoot up, staring at the umbilical cord in terror as cracks spread over it's surface.
Body moving on instincts, he moved to chuck the quickly cracking umbilical cord away. Only to be to late. The cord exploding into a stary nebula of dancing colours. The eyes turning into shimmering stars.
Before he could as much blink, let alone think. The nebula surged at him. Disappearing down into his lungs with a haunting roar.
Violently coughing, dancing dust escaped out his lungs, only to violently surge back into him.
Heart hammering as panic set in, his head was spinning, he tasted purple, heard yellow sing.
Leaning against the altar, he felt pain wreck his body. His blood boiling in his veins.
The world spun on its axis.
Crashing into the floor, darkness welcomed him like an old friend.
Only for glaring white light to send him spiralling out of whatever trance got hold of him.
Eyes shooting open, he felt vertigo hit him. Vomit racing up his throat, held back only by iron determination.
He saw the workshop; he felt the pool of cold sweat he lied in. He had a piece of old paper glued to the side of his face.
Out of his other eye a completely different scenery showed itself. He saw an ocean held up by three different pillars. Motes of light falling gently from the void, quickly absorbed by the sea. Growing larger as it greedily consumed the motes.
Puke came shooting out of his nostrils, feeling his spirituality, the very essence of his being be forcibly increased. Hallucinations danced past his eyes. Spectral spider lilies appearing out of thin air around him, just as a single spider bloomed in his spirituality.
Blooming from his talent with rituals, it brough with it knowledge. Over a hundred rituals suddenly appearing in his mind. From simple prayers of good health, large protection wards, to grotesque rituals that required bathing in the blood of virgin girls. Together with the knowledge came mastery. How to produce regents, drawing ritual circles in chalk, salt, or blood. How to prepare corpses to make good undead servants.
The spider lily's petals crystalised, the stem shattering like glass. Sending the flower head sinking deep into his spirituality. Furiously gorging itself on his spirituality, before completely crystalising. Becoming part of him. Another spectral spider lily growing out from the crystal head.
Before he had a time to catch his breath, three other crystal seeds materialised in his spirituality.
A beautiful primrose bloomed from his research into potions. Bringing with it knowledge and talent about mystical concoctions. Mixtures to heal or to harm, pastes, weapon oils, herbal potions or drugs. All the amateurish mistakes he had made in the art coming to the forefront of his mind. Together with ways to better his potions, or other potion recipes that his new knowledge made redundant.
A cryptic bluebell was next to bloom, sprouting from his research and many question into Yharnam herself. Bringing with it the ability to recreate the truth behind anything related to mysticism, mysteries, or just everyday happenings, making him able to correctly predict the development of events from just bits and scraps of evidence.
Lying paralyzed by fear, his mind working in overdrive to connect bits and pieces of knowledge he had stumbled upon in his hunts. Pushed to new heights thanks to his churning spiritualty. Connecting loose threads he had otherwise ignored and setting aside ideas he thought had traction, only to now find out they were wrong from the very start.
Bringing with it some horrifying revelations that had swirled in the back of his mind. Revelations he had done his best to ignore. 'There exists real Gods, who are very much alive and active in Yharnam.'
He didn't even have time to process the horrifying truth of his revelations before a fourth, and last, flower bloomed. A single hauntingly white lily that silenced everything around it with it's birth. A calm tranquillity settling over his mind and spirituality, the lily swinging to an invisible tune.
With it's blooming came another ability, one born from his penchant for song. The ability to cast whatever spell he could imagine, if he sang or gave a prayerlike chant to the moon, the night, or the blood. From a lullaby to put multiple people to sleep, to producing an effect similar to Ren's semblance. And if he felt like it, he could strip people of their will to live temporarily.
Another spasm wracked his body. Pulling him away from happy thoughts of trying out the 'Real' magic he had gotten his hands on. Even if a traitorous part of him whispered that it wasn't as much magic, as it was just another part of him.
Spasm after spasm wrecked trough his body, leaving his blood boiling in his veins. Rolling onto his stomach, a vertical waterfall of bloody puke escaped him. Multiple teeth falling out of his mouth Rotted and blackened things who promptly dissolved in the puke.
Jaune could feel new teeth grow in, forcefully pushing out it's older counterpart with vigour. When the spasms calmed down, and he regained and inkling of control of his body, he managed to push himself up. Spitting out a mouthful of bloody teeth in the process.
"What the-" He cursed; mouth clacking shut as another violent spasm raced trough his body. Not giving him a moment to think over his blood's new pink hue.
Letting out a shuddering breath, he felt his blood cool in his veins. The spasms growing weaker and fewer between. Getting his feet under himself, he forced his tired and pain wracked body to stand. Gripping a hand onto the altar and pulling himself up on shaky legs, he felt the last of the spasms die down.
"What was that?" He whispered out shakingly. Looking down at the now empty altar with trepidation. Scared another cloud of mystic space dust would force it's way down his throat.
His heart still hammered in his chest. But all the burning pain the spasms and boiling blood had brought with it was gone. Leaving only a terrifying sense of fulfilment. The voices were gone, silenced. His mind felt grounded, as if a fog had lifted.
Letting out a shaky breath, he felt the last shivers leave him. Running his tongue over his teeth, he couldn't help but blink in surprise. Tearing of his glove, he stuck his finger into his mouth. Counting his teeth. "Thirty-six. Why do I have thirty-six teeth?" He muttered slightly hysterical. He had never exactly counted how many teeth he had, but he could distinctly feel that his mouth was 'fuller'.
Pulling out Crocea Mors, he ran his finger over the blade. Drawing a single drop of pink blood.
"What happened to me?" He whispered, staring at his pink coloured blood. Vertigo set in, his stomach churning. Clamping down on his rising panic, he grabbed the altar to ground himself. Desperately turning to his rune for answers.
Because something had happened. Something had changed.
And he didn't know what.
Reading over his stats, his expression fell further and further as he read on. Seeing no change in Vitality, Endurance, Strength, or Skill. His eyes boggled when he came to Bloodtinge and Arcana. He had also seen his insight increasing by three, but compared to how violated he felt, it almost didn't feel worth mentioning.
The two stats had increased by a whopping ten points each. Bloodtinge shooting from fourteen to twenty-four, becoming his third highest stat after arcane. Who now rested at twenty-five. Also having increased by ten points.
"Is that where all the pain came from? Having two attributes increase by such a large margin?" He rasped. Still frowning with his mind working in overdrive. "But that can't be right. When I first started increasing my attributes, I dumbed everything into my stats to get them over ten. I didn't feel anything expect the rush then, what makes this so different? Me being in the dream when I have my attributes can't be it. Or at least the only thing."
A snarl split his lips; with a shout of rage he lashed out at the altar. Sending everything crashing onto the floor.
"WHY!" He roared out. Tears streaming down his face. "Why me? What did I do to deserve this?" He rasped out trough a choked sob.
Like always, only silence was his answer. The faint sound of howling beast's echoing in the distance.
Drying his tears, his heart clenched in pain and disgust. Silvery splotches of mercury coating his hand. Lips twisting into a disgusting snarl, he felt tears traveling freely down his face.
"No. Don't go losing it now Jaune. Keep it together. Just because there are godly being's in Yharnam and you forcibly changed is no reason to be losing it. You are better than this. You have to be." Feeling properly chastised, he dried of his tears. Staring incuriously at the drops of mercury in his hand. Slipping his hand into it's glove, his mind worked in overdrive. Trying to give him answers to questions he didn't want answered.
'Decryption', just like the other abilities he had gained from his partial 'metamorphosis', having no proper words to describe it with, was constantly active. However, even if the other abilities were always active, he wouldn't feel them unless he actively worked on rituals, were concocting potions or sang. So while they were active, they were also dormant.
Decryption, as a mostly mental ability and not one tied to a field or study, was constantly active. Given that it was in essence a cumulative evolution from his research, born from a desire to get answers to all the questions that plagued him since waking up in Yharnam the first time. Pushing his ability to observe, associate thoughts, and deduce to new levels.
Something that came with just as many ups and downs. Even if he wanted to burrow his head in the sand and forget, part of him still wanted to find out. His mind was working overdrive, trying to fill in the blanks.
Stepping up the little dais, he gave his mind something else to focus on.
The doll.
She was dead, inanimate. Carelessly leaning against the wall and a pillar. Looking fully her namesake. Nothing but a lifeless doll with dull, lifeless eyes. Even if she was created to resemble a human, she was nothing but a good imitation.
Kneeling before the doll, he took one of her arms in hand and lifted it. Feeling old and rusted joints jolt before groaning as he moved her arm. Letting go, her arm softly fell back into place. Taking her hand in his and turning it over, he saw a finger twitch.
An impossibility, her hand was as cold as the grave. But again, the same finger twitched.
"What have you done Gehrman?" He rasped hollowly. Knowledge from both the 'Mystical Concoctions' and 'Ritual Practitioner' abilities coming to the forefront. Concoctions to bend the will of others to suit his needs. Concoctions to drive out the soul, leaving a hollow body. Creating homunculi, animating the dead, creating false life. All sorts of vile rituals and methods to attempt to create life.
He would never concoct any of them, neither would he perform the rituals, he wasn't that far gone. But he was more than willing to use them as a basis to try and get some much-needed answers.
The deeper he dove into his newly gained knowledge, the less he found. Coming up on blanks more often than not. No homunculi or other facsimile of life could exhibit free will, yet the doll could. Everything he had learned screamed at him that risen or bound corpses together with homunculi and puppet's would always be missing parts of themselves. Be it memories, the ability to feel or express certain emotions, not to mention all the times where their intelligence regresses.
The doll shouldn't be able to express the wide range of emotions he had seen twinkling in her eyes. She had never given of a feeling of 'incompleteness'. If he hadn't been able to see the gaps in her joints, he would have taken her for a real person. Place her in Beacon's hospital ward, and no one would bat an eye.
"What did it cost Gherman?" Jaune asked, already knowing the answer deep in his heart. Looking into the doll's lifeless eyes, he searched for anything that could hint at even the tiniest bit of life.
All he found was an empty lifelikeness.
Sighing, he let go of her hand. Not finding anything but more questions swirling around in his mind. All his leads pointing at things he didn't want to acknowledge. Quickly standing up and marching out of the workshop, the walls were closing in on him. His breathing growing erratic.
The fresh air didn't help. There had been one too many mind shattering revelations one after another, barley giving him time to process one thing before something come and hit him in the face.
Grabbing the fence, Jaune looked down into the abyss below. Staring hollowly down at Yharnam's undercity. While not quite a slum, it was in all but name. Leaning further over the fence, he flirted lightly with the idea of just taking a quick dive over the edge. A quick and easy reset button if he kept his aura down.
Letting out a long sigh, he pushed off. Taking solace in the old stones under his feet. The weight of unwanted revelations threatened to crush him. But that was on par with Yharnam. He didn't know what would break him first, the ever-increasing bloodiness of the hunt, or the horrifying revelations that he would stumble upon further down. Not that he was particularly interested in finding out either.
Throwing one last parting glance back at the workshop, the place where the dream was born. Jaune was frozen in place. Hardly believing his eyes. Dozen silvery forms of other hunters scattered around. Huntsmen in all shapes and ages, the young and the old both looking at him with pride twinkling in silvery eyes. Soft, almost hesitant smile's on hardened faces.
"Give 'em hell for us, lad."
"Kill some beasts for us, aight?"
"Make us proud, show 'em how us proper huntsmen do it."
A gentle breeze came through, ruffling his hair and forcing him to close his eyes. When he opened them again, he stood alone before the workshop. Silvery spectre's of what had been gone with the wind. Leaving only a cloud of silvery motes gently fall onto the dirt. Silver lilies peaking up through the dirt.
"I'll make you proud." Jaune swore even if there was no one there to listen.
"You already do~" The air whispered. And Jaune felt his shoulders lighten just a bit.
####
Waiting for Professor Goodwitch to look through Violet's test results wasn't half as stressful as he imagined it to be. But compared to the night he had had, that didn't come as much of a surprise. He wasn't sure he would have another as crushing night again. However, if he was a betting man, he could read the signs. The night had been bad, but it was only a peek at what to come.
If only he could say the same about Violet. The poor girl was fidgeting with the hem of her coat. Nervously tapping her feet, throwing quick glances over to him whenever she thought Professor Goodwitch wasn't looking.
Ignoring Professor Goodwitch's pointed look, he strode forward. Heart melting at the brilliant smile that wiped away all of Violet's nerves. Lifting her up, he plopped her down on his shoulders. Her light giggle impossible not to hear in the empty classroom. Even Professor Goodwitch's stern expression faltered slightly. Giving one last look at Violet's work, she sighed slightly.
"Now." She started, breaking the tense silence with a poignant stare. "I want you to know that I am very much not in agreement with this apprenticeship. I sat my foot down when the headmaster decided to enrol Miss Rose early, and I set my foot down now. As much a marvel your semblance is Mr Arc, someone as young as dear Violet have nothing to do here. Unfortunately, as with Miss Rose, the headmaster has decided her apprenticeship under you is valid, and as such there is not much I can do."
"That doesn't mean I won't be having my eye on you." Miss Goodwitch continued, shooting him a glare colder than ice. "Violet's education is of no less importance than anyone else. However, I'm not sure if this test was the right thing to do now. For someone who have just recently started to properly read and write another language, if you are to believe, something her results agree with, this test is doing no more than causing needles stress."
"Violet isn't stupid, she just needs a bit of time." Jaune said, coming to his apprentices defence with no hesitation.
"I never said she was, Mr Arc. But nine or twenty years old, sitting a test for a language you have only begun learning is an exercise in futility. If anything, I'm more surprised she got most her letters correct." Professor Goodwitch said, dishing out praise. Moving the papers over to the side, she gave him a look. "Here is what we will do. Your charge will be sitting a reading and written comprehension test next month. There will be one of those each following month to chart her progress. As she is apprenticed to you, you will be mainly in charge of her education, that includes teaching her sciences, math, history, and all other aspects general education is tasked to do."
"I know, I already know where to start." Jaune said with finality. Having known that taking an apprentice wasn't all fun and games. It came with it fair share of responsibility. Violet's education just one part of the mountain on his shoulders.
Thankfully this wasn't the first time he had done this, tutoring his younger sisters and helping them with homework couldn't be that much different, right?
'If anything, the abilities my forced 'metamorphosis' gave me will be of use.' He mused. While the circumstances of his forced metamorphosis were still a fresh wound, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He didn't need to bring out his divination tools to figure out that it was a one-way transformation. Not when he had an instinctual ability to deduce things, even if that was only a part of the whole. But, just like any tool, he just had to figure out to how leverage it to best suit his needs. Didn't matter the circumstances of how he gained it, it was part of him now.
Who knew, maybe he could finally find a way to learn how to turn on and off his spirit vision in the process.
"Good. It's a heavy responsibility, I'm glad you don't just brush it off. We would be having a different conversation if you did." Professor Goodwitch said simply. The ghost of a smile on her lips. "But if that would be all, you are free to take your leave. It's Friday, and I'm sure you would rather spend your evening doing something else."
Giving Professor Goodwitch a little wave, he lifted Violet down from his shoulder. Ignoring her little pout. "Then let us not disturb you any longer." With that they were gone. Violet naturally holding his hand. Shooting cautions glares at every student they passed.
While he was glad that she wasn't as terrified as she had been. He wasn't sure how to feel about her Yharnam paranoia. Not that he should be throwing stones. His eyes also casually drifted from student to student. Giving them a quick once over, noticing their postures, the curve of their lips, the twinkle in their eyes, how likely other students were to step in should a fight break out. A hundred and one ways too quickly and efficiently kill them popping up in his mind, before being pushed to the side when they were deemed no threat.
He hadn't even noticed how he noticed more details about his fellow huntsmen-in-training until they were closer to their dorms. Small things he never noticed before standing out, hidden details that were almost impossible to notice if one didn't know what to look for. Tasking softly, he felt a mirthful smile on his lips. 'Just another thing to get used too I guess.'
"I never got around to asking you this, but what do you want to become when you are older?" Jaune asked his apprentice. Needing something else to put his mind on. The closer they got to the dorm, the more he could feel the wall's closing in. Compared to being both a pillar of support and her anchor during Professor Goodwitch's test, approaching the dorm felt more akin walking willingly to his demise.
"I don't know. Won't I be a hunter?" Violet asked curiously.
"Well yes. But there is more to growing older than just being a hunter. While being a hunter is a job and duty both, there is more to life than just hunting." He added helpfully. Hearing the gears of her mind working.
"Then I want to be a lady." Violet eventually settled on. Running her fingers over her brooch who sat over her heart. Throwing a curious look up at him, she asked. "But what about you… Master? What do you want to be when you are older?"
"We have been over this Violet, call me Jaune." He chastised slowly, ignoring the pout she gave him.
"That would be improper." Violet sulked. Shooting him a dirty little look.
Part of him was glad she was coming out of her shell. Another part of him couldn't help but wonder why of all things she had to be so stubborn about something. He swore he could hear silvery pears of laughter echoing whenever she talked back.
"But, back to your question. If there is anything I want to be when I'm older… then I want to be kind." Jaune said softly, the faintest of smiles on his lips.
"Aren't you wishing for too little?" Violet whispered softly.
"If anything, I think I'm asking for too much." Jaune said wistfully, shooting her a little smile.
Violet didn't quite know how to respond to that, falling silent. A pensive look settling over her. Coming closer to the dorm, he took a deep breath, not wanting to show how close he was to slipping. Opening the door, only to stare dumbly at the coffee table in the middle of the room. A coffee table he knew hadn't been there hours ago.
Quickly ushering Violet in, he closed the door behind them.
"See, I told you it would leave him stumped for words!" Nora grinned excitedly. Shooting a look at Ren who nodded more out of reflex than anything, never once taking his attention away from his calligraphy. He was still in the starting faces of 'Onmyo' magic as he called it. Sharpening his calligraphy, a large part of the magic.
"How?" He asked, knowing that Nora never bothered with silly things like 'why' in the first place.
"Eh, just thought this team meeting of ours would feel more 'official' if we didn't just sit on our beds or desks." Nora shrugged nonchalantly. "So… we are all here, should we get started? Rip of the band aid quickly and all that?"
"Now is as good a time as any." He sighed. Sitting down on one of the pillows. Violet squirreling into his lap. Looking both nervous and exited.
Ren laid down his calligraphy brush, face carved from stone. Pyrrha meanwhile only seemed relieved. Quickly sitting down on one of the pillows strewn around.
"Where did you get the pillows?" She asked, throwing a glance over at Nora.
"Where I found the table. Did you know Beacon has a storage room filled with furniture? Well I allowed myself some sofa cushions as well." The bomber said with a shrug. "What? Beats sitting on the floor if you ask me."
"Nora's slipping moral compass aside, I think it's time we got back on track." Ren started. Getting a pout from Nora. "Hey! My moral compass isn't slipping! If I was allowed in with my scroll, then there is no way the teachers don't know about it. If anything, I think is a room for us students to get some more furniture without throwing away our entire stipend."
"Anyways. Jaune, if you would like." Ren said gently, shifting the focus back to him.
"Yes." He sighed, knowing he couldn't push it away any longer without beginning to strain his relationship with his team. "But first." He said, fishing up his ritual knife, ignoring the pointed look Ren sent him.
Quickly giving a quick cut over his index finger, he ignored the colour of his blood. Instead he scribbled a runic circle in the middle. Bringing out a long candlestick as well. Gently setting it down in the middle, he snaped his fingers. A silver flame coming to life.
He didn't know if the others felt the mystical film that settled over the room. A quick look around showed that only Ren noticed something. If he noticed, or Iosefka commented about something, he didn't know, and neither did he feel like prying. Nora and Pyrrha looked more put off by his casual display of self-harm than anything. Compared to his team, a soft 'oohing' came from Violet, eyes glued to the silver flame.
"Just a precaution. Everything told here will be a 'secret', we can't be overheard, what will be said can't be divined either." He said, easing their concern. Inwardly glad that he could perform a ritual he had only theorised about on his first try. Painstakingly knowing where his success came from.
"Paranoid much?" Nora teased, doing her best to ease the suddenly tense atmosphere.
Her question completely bulldozed away as Violet stood up in his lap, turning to him with stars in her eyes. "Teach me!" She all but demanded.
"That depends on how well you do on your reading and writing comprehension test next month." He replied smoothly, ignoring the way she pouted. Huffing and sitting back in his lap with her arms crossed.
"Jaune's paranoia to the side. Can you please just tell us what the two of you are hiding? Please." Pyrrha pleaded softly, shooting a harsh glare at him and Ren.
Sighing, knowing he would get no support from Ren, he rolled the words around in his mouth. Not really sure where to start.
"Well, I might have lied a bit. There are seven attributes, not six." With that he started talking about insight. Describing it as 'Pulling back the fabric of the universe', what it meant, what he knew of it so far, how it was interconnected with spirituality.
While he explained, his team was thankfully silent. Even Violet was silent. He was sure she picked up the gist of it, but most flew over her head.
When he was finally done, he breathed out a sigh of relief. Feling a crushing weight lifting from his shoulders. A quick look over to Ren showed he also seemed more at ease with the entire team being in the know.
"Wait. You said you could see emotions?" Pyrrha abruptly asked when he was done.
"Well, that's not entirely correct." He started, not knowing how to feel under her stare. "It's more I see a mixture of colours, with each colour representing a type of fulfilment. Red is passion and excitement, orange is warmth and satisfaction, green is calm and peace, with dark being worry, sorrow and more along that line. So I don't see emotions per se, it's more making guesses."
Given the way Pyrrha almost collapse in relief, he knew she must have worried over her crush on him. He wasn't blind to the fact, not when he literally could see everyone's prevailing emotions and mental state. He didn't want to continue leading her on, but he didn't know how to breach the topic either. So he had done the mature thing instead, acting as if he didn't know.
Was it the right thing to do? He knew it wasn't. And for as much he admired his partner, he couldn't force himself to love her as anything else but a great friend, and maybe a sister from another mother. He didn't know if he was capable of romantically loving anyone right now. Not with what happened last night hanging over his head.
He wasn't even sure if he was even capable of siring children. And if he could, would they also be different? Like he was now?
He shuddered just thinking about it.
"That's it?!" Nora shouted half disbelieving. Confusion marring her features, before relief washed over her. With a smile she bumped shoulders with Pyrrha, a megawatt grin on her face. "See! I told you it was just Jaune being the self-sacrificing idiot he tends to be when he gets too caught up in his head. And you doubted me."
"I guess Jaune isn't the only one who can be bit of an idiot at times." Pyrrha said softly with a sheepish smile. "I guess I got too caught up in my head as well."
"But back to you mister." Nora started puffing her chest out and giving him the sternest look she could conjure forth. While it was nothing compared to what he had gotten used to, it somehow hurt more. Knowing that it was his friend instead of something that wanted him dead. "What were you thinking? Why didn't you share it? We aren't made of glass. Don't you trust us?"
"I do." Jaune answers instantly, followed by a soft whisper. "I do." Sighing, he allowed his shoulders to relax. "I just didn't want to worry you. Didn't want to burden any one of you with more. I know that my semblance can make me high maintenance. And as much a constant nightmare it is, I can't say I haven't grown somewhat attached to Yharnam. It isn't all bad." At that Violet grinned up at him, wrapping his arm protectively around her and giving her a little squeeze. "But…"
The word hung heavily in the air, not needing another word to tell them how bad Yharnam was. They had all gotten their glimpses into what he was dealing with. They knew it wasn't all glitter and gold.
"Jaune. If we didn't think you were worth sticking around with, we would have left." Ren added plainly. Dashing his worries. "Just because your semblance is a piece of work, doesn't that make you any less of a good friend. In fact I don't think I would want anyone else as a team leader."
"Yeah! You are stuck with us now!" Nora giggled excitedly. "You aren't getting rid of us anytime soon."
Jaune felt a familiar sting in his eyes, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he forced it away. Knowing that if his friend's saw him crying tears of mercury, that he would be barraged under a sea of questions he didn't want.
"Wait a minute." Pyrrha whispered gently, turning to give Ren a sharp look. "You have insight, don't you Ren. That is why you have been so adamant about having Jaune come clean about this."
"You are correct." Ren answered with a little nod. "I can see the dead. I wouldn't have known if not for the fact that Jaune is haunted."
"Wait what?!" Nora exclaimed. Turning to her partner with a mix of glee and shock. "What do you mean, haunted? Are you telling me there have a ghost in our room all this time and you never told me!"
"Well, yes." Ren said simply. Ignoring the heated look Nora sent him, he continued unperturbed. "Iosefka is a bit of sensitive topic for Jaune, so I saw it best not to breach it. And if not knowing gave you peace of mind, I wasn't going to go make anyone uncomfortable without cleaning the air first."
"No." Jaune said with finality, stopping Nora flat in her tracks. Already knowing what she was going to ask. "Just know that there are some fates worse than death. And as much as I consider Iosefka a friend, I also can't find it in my heart to forgive her. Maybe I will in the future, but it's still a fresh wound I rather not want to talk about."
Thankfully they didn't decide to press him further. After last night he could understand more about why Iosefka wanted to die human. That however didn't lessen the pain he felt when he was forced to take the life of a woman he would have liked to call friend.
"Now on another, but no less important topic. Namely Violet." The girl in question perked up at Ren's mention. Having been content with just sitting and listening. "You said the Dream can increase her attributes, just as it can with you. And you need insight for it to be possible. How are you planning on handling that."
"From an as objective standpoint as possible, insight in itself isn't dangerous." Seeing the questions about to come his way he held up his hand. "Let me explain."
"Insight can be compared to a drug. In small doses it is mostly harmless, even able to be mitigated. It is when one's insight deepens to a certain threshold that things begin getting dangerous. While both Ren and I's have insight, we still see and interact with the world normally. However, each persons 'reality' differs. Stemming from what they can see, hear, feel and interact with. When pushed past certain thresholds, a person's reality will become completely alien. As they live in a world so different than the 'real', or 'normal' one. It is then things start becoming dangerous. What that threshold is I don't really know, and neither do I want to find out."
"And for Violet, I was planning to make sure she got just the required insight. Nothing more, nothing less."
"So there is a chance we will go mad?" Ren asked cautiously.
"Maybe?" Jaune cringed. "It mostly depends on how well we can adapt to our 'new' reality, really. There will come a time when our view on the world is completely alien. But if you take measured steps. You should be able to acclimate to it as you progress. Maybe. I hope so at least."
"Yay." Rep replied dryly, shotting him an equally dry look. Shaking his head he turned his attention over to Violet, who was fidgeting in his lap. "But while you alleviated my concerns, somewhat. You didn't answer my question."
"Let just say I have stumbled upon some items that should help." Jaune answered, thinking back to all the madmen skulls he just had lying around in the dream. Was it safe using one of them? No. But it was the easiest way he could think of without Violet coming in harm's way.
"Do you think we could use those items to unlock our 'insight' as well?" Nora asked curiously. "It's just… well… We are a team, right? And if you honestly think any of you is about to walk that slippery slope without me, you are out of your minds. We are in this together. All of it. The good and the bad."
"We are a team; I might not understand the nuances of Insight and what it represents properly." Pyrrha started, voice steadily growing more confident. "But this isn't something you, or anyone for that manner, should face alone. Like Nora said, we are in this together. And I'm sure four heads are better than one."
"Tomorrow." Jaune said with finality. Taking one look at the girls to know that they were serious. "It's not that I doubt you. But please sleep on it. It is irreversible, I don't want you to regret this in the future. This isn't just a way to awaken your spirituality and practice 'magic', it can, and will drive you insane should you not threat it with the respect it deserves."
"Great." Nora exclaimed, clapping her hands. Looking far livelier than she had in weeks. As if an invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Now that that's over. What now? It's still early, what are we doing?"
"Movie night?" Pyrrha suggested getting the ball rolling.
"Movie night it is." Nora nodded. "I'm sure I can find a movie projector or something around the school. The problem is what to watch."
With that conversation sprang up. Leaning backwards, Jaune let out a sigh of relief. Glad that, for once things had turned out all right. He wasn't blind to the nervousness that Pyrrha tried to hide, or the giddiness that radiated of Nora. An uncertainty clung to them, not that he could fault them.
Ignoring his feelings on the matter, he decided to ignore them till tomorrow. Violet was joining the hunt tonight. And as such he had other worries on his mind. He was going to comfort a crying girl first thing tomorrow. There really wasn't much a movie could do to lighten his mood.
"What is a movie?" Violet asked softly, breaking him out of his thoughts. He didn't get to answer before Nora scooped her up from his lap with a megawatt grin "Well you see..."
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Note: Part of me is worried the Umbilical cord is too much abilities to fast, but given that there are only three/four depending, with no way to make more it feels warranted. This isn't something you find on the side of the road. The hardest part about writing the chapter was not giving him to much, taking away him 'earning' his power.
Note: Jaune, Ren, Vioelt, Pyrrha & Nora will all have different types of 'vision's', in some cases it won't even be a type of vision at all. It's all planned out, and should hopefully fit in with their established characters.