Happy New Year everyone! I'll be keeping these chapters coming. Feel free to ask questions regarding anything related to the story or characters. You know. Assuming I schedule the update date to the correct date. But until next time!
Note: I do not own either RWBY or Fairy Tail. Those are owned by Rooster Teeth and Hiro Mashima ( and FUNimation). Please support the official release.
Note two: Bolded text indicates telepathic dialogue. Italic text indicates a flashback.
Roman puffed out a cloud of smoke, a lit cigar held between his fingers. He watched masked White Fang members detach the Atlas Paladin suit from its transport Bullhead and into the forest. Finally, things looked like they were coming up Millhouse. After one of his dust robberies a couple of weeks ago, he was rudely interrupted by two teenage girls wielding oversized weapons.
"Well, Neo," Roman turned to his partner with a sly grin, "Shall we?"
Neopolitan responded by giving her umbrella a swift twirl, a playful smile on her face. Extending her left arm, Roman hooked his around hers, the two of them stepped out of the hijacked Atlas vehicle, taking care to ignore the tied-up military personnel forced onto the jumpseats, with more White Fang fighters standing guard.
"Not so mighty now are you?" One of the guards–with a bushy fox tail extending from a small hole in his pants sneered, "You arrogant bastards." One of the captured, the Bullhead pilot, spit onto the Grimm mask. "Why you–" the freedom fighter unholstered his gun.
Roman blocked the butt of fox fanus's rifle as the fanus brought down the energy weapon. "Please, Connor, save beating the shit out of them until after we've secured what we came for? I really don't need another complication to deal with."
The terrorist let out a low growl. Roman noticed the way Connor was turning his gun and smirked. In less than a second, the fox fanus's neck was being pinpricked by a sharp metal blade. Neo glanced at the guard with disappointment as he begrudgingly holstered his weapon.
"As I was saying," Roman leaned in, extinguishing his cigar against Connor's jacket, "Save it, Connor. Capiche?" The fox fanus glared at Neo. Her disappointment turned into a smirk.
"Fine," Connor stuck his gun back into its holster. "Can't believe we have to work with this human bastard."
"Neo," the bowler-hat-wearing mobster sighed. The pink and brown-eyed girl rolled her eyes before moving her hand a few inches forward. Connor tried to scream out in pain but gurgled up blood instead. Trickles of the scarlet liquid rolled down and over the collarbone, soaking into his clothing.
Neo retracted her umbrella, folding it back up, before making eye contact with the rest of the guards. None of them moved.
"What are you guys doing?" Roman waved his cane around, gesturing at Connor. "Get him to the medic. He's clearly a little under the weather." Two of the remaining three quickly picked up Connor, rushing in outside. Neo pulled out her scroll, typing something. Roman's scroll pinged.
[Did you really have to do that?] the message read. Roman decided not to answer that instead pulling her out of the Bullhead.
"Neo," he began as the two of them walked toward the captured mech. "You understand that these 'people'" he air quoted "really don't like you or me? And, if we're going to have to work together, I'd rather have them working for us, than us working for them."
[Rule with fear?] Neo sent another text.
"Exactly darling," Roman grinned, "Why fix what isn't broken?" Neo just rolled her eyes again. She started pulling him along, dragging him by the hand.
It didn't take long for the two of them to cross the dense vegetation to the now-flattened clearing. White Fang members scurried like ants, hurrying to secure the Paladin to the massive metal palette they'd brought. The downed Atlas transport ship also had more fanus patching the smoking wing of the vehicle. Roman's eyes scanned the area, before locking in on a certain red-haired bull.
"I didn't know you were here Adam," The bowler-hat wearer separated himself from Neo, slowly jogging toward the scowling swordsman. "Finally taking a break from sabotaging SDC shipments?"
"I could be asking you the same thing Torchwick," the bull spit out. "Just stay out of my way. You'll get your toy soon enough."
"Well, as much as I would love to listen to you," Roman leaned onto his cane, "Our mutual employer wants me to have it now. So, you can run along now. I can handle it." Adam put a hand on his sword, his scowl increasing.
"Quiet," the bull fanus turned to face the treeline. "Someone is coming."
Roman's eyes narrowed as he turned in the same direction. The only people who could even make it out here–with all the Grimm, would be Atlas military or huntsmen. And it was way too early for Atlas to be responding to a convoy attack.
In a flash, a dark mass leaped out of the underbrush, swords in each hand. His mask was dark purple, with ram horns curling around the top. The assailant swung down at Adam, who responded in kind with his red wakizashi, blocking the strike. From the tree line, a yellow glow formed.
Neo only just blocked the arrow with her parasol, wincing as the electricity raced down the metal frame of the umbrella. Roman frowned, opened up his cane, and took aim. He sent an explosive round into the vegetation, watching as dirt and rocks lept from the earth. Through all the debris, Roman could see the shooter with a white mask. He shot again. This time, a shower of splinters forced the vigilante out into the clearing. This person's mask had antler horns. But that wasn't what Roman was focusing on.
"No way," the mobster's eyes widened. "Didn't expect to run into you again blondie. Or I guess it would be Antlers now." She didn't reply, merely staring at Neo. "Oh, I don't think you've met Neo yet. Say hi Neo!"
His partner pulled her sword blade, twirling Hush in her hand. Blondie slipped her bow back onto her back and pulled out a metal cylinder from a hidden pocket in her dress. Then, a dark beam of plasma emerged from one end of the device, forming a rapier of sorts.
The vigilante lunged at Neo, swinging up with her energy blade. When Neo blocked the attack, her blade steamed and smoked, forcing Neo to jump back, revealing the scorched metal where it was contacted. Roman ran in using his right hand to swing his cane into the girl's stomach. The force knocked the girl flying, her bare feet skidding across the earth when she landed.
The blonde girl slipped her bow onto her left forearm, transforming it into a shield, before getting into a fighting stance–sword pointed down and shield held out in front of her. Just behind her, the other vigilante jumped away from Adam, landing just behind Antlers. Speaking of the bull fanus, the terrorist leader stalked toward the two vigilantes, his blade glowing red.
"Well Antlers," Roman smirked raising his cane, "End of the line for you."
He blinked, and all of a sudden it was Ram Horns in the mobster's face, swords flashing in the setting sun. Roman only barely brought his cane up, which sparked against the two blades. Neo dashed in, jabbing at Ram Horns with her rapier.
The masked man blocked the attack with his shorter sword, reducing the pressure he was putting on Roman. The three fighters were locked in a stalemate.
Then Ram Horns kicked Neo in the back of the knee, forcing her to the ground. This allowed Roman to dislodge his cane and raise its barrel end. The point-blank explosion caused even Roman's aura to flicker at the damage. He cringed as Neo was blasted into the forest. But at least her Aura only dropped into the low yellow. Ram Horns on the other hand… was probably down for the count.
But, as the smoke cleared, only the man's black and white robes were scorched. The man himself, and his mask, remained relatively unscathed. However, the attacker had been staggered, as he stayed kneeling on the ground. Roman forced himself to ignore the aching of his body and ran to help his partner.
"Get the Bullheads ready for takeoff!" Roman barked into the small radio he pulled out of his belt. As he helped Neo up, he fired another round at Ram Horns, forcing the swordsman to jump back. "You're going to have to stall him while I get us a ride. Hopefully, the White Fang will get our mech out without too much difficulty."
Neo gave him a coy smile, opening back her umbrella. She flicked her hand as if to say shoo. Roman let out a small laugh. "Don't die on me yet Neo." He turned away and bolted for the Bullhead they'd just come from.
Neopolitan silently watched as her opponent slowly walked toward her, his two blades dipped toward the ground, waiting. She watched his head turn slightly in the direction her partner had run off to. That wouldn't do.
The brown and pink-haired girl ran forward, jabbing at the vigilante's left shoulder. He darted to the right, using his shorter blade to lock with Neo's. She jumped back, resheathing her blade into her umbrella. He spun one of his swords in a graceful arc, forcing Neo to block with her collapsed umbrella. With a flick of his wrist, Ram summoned multiple magical barriers around them, creating a complex network of translucent energy walls. Neo's eyes widened as her path to escape was blocked. Fine. If he was going to use his Semblance, it was only fair Neo got to use her too.
Creating illusions was sort of like splitting her conscience. Neo could hear and kind of see what her fake self was doing–darting through the maze.
But her focus was on scaling the barrier Ram Horns had created.
"Call me Spriggan," an almost eerie quiet filled Neo's ears, only broken by the sound of a boy. She pulled herself up and spotted the Bullhead she'd captured begin to power up. When she turned back to face Spriggan, Neo noticed something in his demeanor had changed. He sheathed one of his swords and used his free hand to create a box around her clone, trapping it. He squeezed his hand, to the point her illusion shattered like glass.
Neo rolled her eyes at the display, choosing to open back up Hush, giving it a small twirl on her shoulder. Her opponent wasn't pacing himself. In a flash, she kneed Spriggan in the chest and used her opened parasol to toss him over her shoulder. He, in turn, released the maze he'd created to form a small platform to land on. When Spriggan turned back to face her, Neo noticed that the swords were gone. In his hands were a pair of knives, that were now covered in frost, snaking up from the base of the blade.
Wordlessly, Neo lunged forward, her umbrella striking with blinding speed. The clash of their weapons reverberated through the battlefield. Seizing the opportunity, she created illusions that surrounded Spriggan, diverting his attention. Neo pressed her advantage, delivering a flurry of blows. She eyed an icy lance sailing through the air, which she blocked by opening up Hush. The small ice crystals broke into dust, glinting in the moonlight.
C'mon Roman, Neo delivered a swift kick to Spriggan's midsection staggering him. The sound of the Bullhead was growing louder. She raised Hush into the air and pulled out her scroll. In a flurry of button clicks, Neo stepped back, creating another illusion to take her place. She hopped into the air, watching as Spriggan cut her clone in two. Neo landed into the open jump doors of the Atlas military transport with a soft thud, her umbrella having slowed her fall.
Neo tossed her scroll down to the ground, smirking as she rose into the air. She was looking forward to this again.
Mavis stared at the night sky, her head resting on Zeref's shoulder. Both of their masks lay on the ground, their insides slick with sweat and perspiration. Her bow was folded up and hooked back onto the back of her dress, its ice and electric dust cartridges empty from all the rounds she had used to ground many of the Bullheads. She felt around for Zeref's hand, squeezing it as she thought about her fight with Adam. Mavis hadn't had a fight like that since…the Trade Wars back in Ishgar. And even then, she hadn't seen that much direct combat, choosing to serve as a strategist.
Her magic reserves were exhausted from reinforcing her aura to take more of the bull fanus's hits. It was exhilarating, but also…hard to handle the aftermath of her work. She glanced at her husband's face, which was gazing into the distance. Did he feel the same way? Had it been long enough that it didn't bother him anymore? Or…Mavis believed it was somewhere in the middle.
"Hey," she tentatively poked the proverbial bear, "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"Sure," Zeref answered.
Mavis hesitated before opening her mind and, for lack of a better term, threw her confusion into Zeref's head. She could feel him reel at the feeling, before slowly accepting the swirl of emotions. The grass and small brush around them began to wither.
"I guess," he started, "It never goes away." He moved his onyx eyes to meet her emerald ones. "I'm not sure if it's just the curse, but some days it's easier to block out the guilt. And on others, well, I think you've seen that. But I know you just being here has helped."
Mavis took a deep breath, trying to block out the decaying plant matter around them. "I think…its the same with you. Thank you Spriggan."
He flashed a warm smile. "You think we should call the general now?" Zeref summoned his scroll out. The two of them had set aside a closet in their home to serve as a sort of pocket dimension. "Knowing Ironwood, he's been waiting at his desk for hours now."
"How long have we kept James waiting again?" Mavis sat up, leaning back against the large boulder they had found. "Three hours. A new record."
"Well, let's see what he has to say," he connected the modified holographic projector to the camera port of his scroll. It took less than a second for the digital projection of the head of the Atlas Military to appear, lighting up the otherwise dark forest.
"By Oum," Ironwood pinched his nose in frustration, "Would it be too hard for you two to check in on time?" He threw his hands up in frustration. "Nevermind. Give me a report."
"Well, we already called for an evac for your men," Zeref answered, "I'm assuming you got that."
"Yes I did," The General sighed. "I guess I should thank you for that. To be honest, I may have forgotten both of your…capabilities. Anyway, what happened with the Paladin prototype?"
"The White Fang ran off with it," Mavis jumped into the briefing, "They dragged it into the forest with a fleet of trucks. Roman Torchwick and Adam Tarus held us up."
Ironwood scowled. "I told Ozpin to deal with–never mind. Is that all?"
"No," Zeref answered.
"Are you going to tell me at least about how your fight went with Neopolitan?" Mavis asked.
"After," the Black Wizard replied.
"I see," James's scowl gave way to a true smile. "Well, I hope we'll be able to catch up at the Vytal Festival at least."
"So you're coming with your school?" Zeref tilted his head. "And you haven't told Ozpin."
"Can I trust you not to tell Ozpin what I'm about to say?" Ironwood asked tentatively.
Mavis answered for both of them. "Just because Oz is a friend doesn't mean we owe him everything. Go ahead."
"I think he's slipping," James admitted. "He's becoming complacent. A storm is brewing, and we cannot sit here and continue to do nothing. So I'm bringing the fleet with me."
"Qrow isn't back yet," Zeref reminded. "So what's the point of the fleet? A preemptive strike before we know what we're targeting?"
"A deterrence," Ironwood sighed. "Look, I thought, given our friendship, you should know beforehand. Do you have anything else to add?" His voice took on a harder edge.
"Thanks for letting us know James," Mavis moved her hand to disconnect the call. "We'll send a written report next time." The forest was bathed in darkness once again.
Zeref buried his head into Mavis's chest, clearly exhausted. She quietly stroked his hair, grateful the two of them found a rock instead of a tree to rest on. "We should probably head back. I promised Ruby and Weiss that we would be available this morning."
"Fine," his voice sent a jolt through her body. He yawned. "Get your mask."
Maybe it was because of Zeref's exhaustion, but unlike every other time the two of them had teleported, the darkness that usually stopped around a yard or two kept coming. It happened so fast that Mavis didn't realize what had happened until an unsettling chill settled over her body. It was surreal–even though her eyes were wide open, Mavis couldn't see anything. She focused on Zeref's warmth, who was still lying in her lap.
She tried to get him up. "Zeref, are you okay?" The only response Mavis got was a roll of the head. Had he lost his concentration while trying to teleport? He had gone on a tangent about
Familiar red eyes opened in the darkness. "What do we have here?"
Mavis's blood ran cold. Her mouth suddenly felt dry. How…!
"Salem," she tried to keep her voice steady, "How–why are you here?" "Salem," Mavis shook Zeref to try and wake him up. He began to stir, but nearly quick enough.
"I could say the same to you as well," the Mother of Grimm almost floated toward Mavis, her bloodless face curling into a smile. "It's been far too long since we last met. After we left off on…less-than-friendly terms, I thought it might do some good to clear the air."
Clear the air…! Mavis burned, her blood instantly boiling. "Answer the question Salem." Her sudden telepathy caused the woman to slightly flinch.
"Now did you really have to do that?" Salem leaned down, her smile unnaturally wide. Mavis tried to move her and Zeref away, only to feel a bony hand wrap around her throat. She could just barely see a black skeletal arm against the dark. "It's a shame Zeref isn't awake right now. Let's change that, shall we?" Mavis grabbed the wrist joint, funneling the last of her aura into lasering off the arm.
Mavis was tempted to tap into the Lumen Histoire. After all, with its power, she might take Salem by surprise. But as magic flowed back into her, black mist seeped into her body, causing her to freeze up. It was cold–too cold. The magic energy she'd managed to absorb from the Fairy Heart was consumed, leaving her feeling more exhausted. Salem kept smiling, merely observing.
"Don't," her emerald eyes locked onto Salem's red pupils. "Try that again."
"If this is about the silver-eyed girl–" Salem shook her head in exasperation.
"Her. Name. Is Summer." Mavis's eyes burned with anger, breaking through the dark.
"Don't talk like she's dead," Salem rolled her eyes, coming any closer, "she is still alive."
"No," Zeref cut in, his eyes flashing open–burning red. A wave of anger brushed against Mavis's mind, as Zeref deliberately sat up, taking Mavis's hand in the process. "Calm down." That wave of anger was soon replaced by a brush of peace, helping Mavis to steady her breathing.
"No, you did something much worse," Mavis continued. "So why are you here?"
"You stumbled into my domain," Salem gestured to the darkness around them, "So I thought I'd take the time to ask some questions–catch up if you will." Salem sat down on her knees. "How is August doing?"
"He's still teaching at Beacon," they both instantly answered, eyes narrowing. "If that's what you wanted to know."
"And are you two–" Salem's red eyes flickered between them, "attending Beacon?"
"What would you do if I said yes?" Zeref countered–to stall for time. "Why would she…?"
"I think," Mavis studied Salem's face. Despite the woman's smirking exterior–Salem's eyes were distant as if she was deciding on something. "She's either taunting us or she's trying to factor us into some plan she has her lieutenants working on."
Salem didn't say anything for a few more moments. "No, that's all I needed. You two can hurry back to wherever you two were going." The darkness slowly began to recede as Salem stepped away. "I hope you enjoy your time at Beacon. You never know when it all might collapse."
And with that ominous message, Salem disappeared from view, leaving Mavis and Zeref alone once again.
Neither of them said anything for a few moments. "Can we just skip our classes today?" Zeref asked.
"Definitely," Mavis fell back into Zeref's lap, closing her eyes. She just wanted this day to be over. She felt cold. "I'm going to take a nap."
She didn't hear Zeref's reply, as her consciousness drifted away.
"Do we know what happened to them?" Ozpin rubbed his forehead with his left hand. His right held a coffee mug. Across the bed from him, Dr. Sarga furrowed his brow.
"They're suffering from aura depletion," the doctor responded, taking thermometers from Mavis and Zeref's mouths. "But their symptoms are strange. Their body temperatures are way below 36, when usually, the body would be running a fever trying to restore their auras–especially given the Aura supplements I've given them."
"Then perhaps," the third person in the room, August, stroked his beard. "Do you mind giving us the room doctor?"
"I'm afraid I can't professor," Sarga sharply replied, "I must tend to my patients."
"Rishi," Ozpin intervened, "Both August and I passed the field medic exam for Huntsmen–we'll make sure they'll be okay."
"Headmaster, I must insist–" the doctor began.
"You won't be able to help them while you are this agitated," he implored. "Just two minutes."
"Fine," Sarga silently got up, swiftly walking into his office. The door clicked shut.
August immediately reached for the aura supplements. "I believe Mavis and Zeref are suffering from both aura and magic depletion. Given that the two are very related–"
"The supplements must be helping the two of them to refill their magical energy," the Headmaster finished. "Perhaps I should send you on those research trips more often."
August took one of the pills in his left hand, while he picked up his wizard staff. A glowing white circle appeared over the chest. "Not only that, their bodies have traces of a foreign magic that keeps eating away at the magic they absorb." He crushed the pill in his hand, sprinkling its contents onto the two magic circles that were rapidly gaining more intricate patterns.
"Are you going to try and purge it out of them?" Oz asked.
"No," August replied. "You and I are going to have to. Because the magic inside their bodies is Salem's." Ozpin nearly dropped his coffee.
"How could they have run into her?" he set down his mug, activating a little of his own magic to try and detect it himself. Sure enough, he could feel the malevolent and hungry magical signature. "What do you need me to do?" It wasn't often Ozpin was the one asking how to do things. But even after decades of working with both Mavis, Zeref, and August, the three had revealed surprisingly little information about their past–or abilities.
At least verbally.
"Start channeling some of your magic into the magic circles," August instructed. When Ozpin did so, the circles gained a greenish tint. "Now focus back on the impurities in–start with Zeref's body. Once you've done so, stop feeding the spells."
Beacon's headmaster pinpointed the trace energies of Salem. Now that he was focusing on them, the magic felt twisted. It felt, alive, almost as if Salem had drained some creature of almost all of its life, sending it into a frenzy. He stopped funneling magic to the spell written for Zeref, watching as the circle etched itself onto the mage's body. He repeated the same process for Mavis, sighing in relief as a bit more color returned to them.
"If it weren't for their immortality," Ozpin began, slowly, "They would be dead."
"Our enemy is preparing for something," August ignored Oz's statement. "But in any case, we should leave the doctor to tend to his patients."
"Agreed," The Headmaster took another sip of his coffee and the two of them slipped out of the infirmary. The Autumn breeze caused Ozpin's scarf to flutter in the air. "What did you mean by planning for something?"
"I think," August looked up at the sky, "Salem is trying to prepare for an attack of some kind of attack on Vale to seize the relic." Ozpin took a moment to consider that possibility.
"She has gone after Amber already," he noted. "But why attack Mavis and Zeref? Was it to test a new attack of hers? Salem isn't the type to simply attack without reason." But even that reason sounded weak.
August didn't say anything for a moment. "She wanted to know where the two stood. I think its clear now the conclusion Salem's come to, sir. Should we inform the rest of the Circle?"
"No," Ozpin immediately responded. "It would cause panic among them–especially James. We both know how that would end."
August scoffed. "It's a wonder why you let him in at all. And there is one other thing I thought it would be important to know."
"And that is?"
"If this ever happens again," the professor walked forward until he was towering over Ozpin, who feeling threatened, took a small step back. "You won't have to worry about Salem anymore." He didn't finish, but the Headmaster knew what he was implying. After all, he remembered what happened with Hazel.
"I'll keep that in mind," Ozpin tried to keep his tone even, "They're my friends too, August. If I had known they would have run into Salem, Oum knows I wouldn't have let them go."
August softened, giving the ancient wizard more space. "I needed to hear that. Good night, Ozpin."
"Goodnight August."