A/N: Hello, All! I am back, and with yet another story. This time I actually have th first three chapters almost ready for upload (I'm finishing chapter 3, right now.) All three will be uploaded before, well, hopefully before the morning is over.
Hope you enjoy!
RWBY is owned by Roosterteeth and the late Monty Oum.
The Catalyst
He squeezed the steering wheel tightly, the orange gloves he was wearing audibly creaking at how tightly he was clenching his hands. He inhaled sharply through his nose before he then sighed a breath back out as he felt his fingers starting to hurt from the pressure. He loosened his fingers from the steering wheel, tweedling his fingers to get the feeling back in them before placing his hands back on the wheel.
He was very tense right now. It was understandable. Very much so. He had just found out that his uncle was dead, after all.
It had occurred only been three weeks ago. And, the cause of it was still under investigation.
He hadn't even known that Uncle Oz had been in the country. But, he suppose that he shouldn't been surprised by that.
They hadn't talked face to face in ten years, and now, he was dead. He didn't even know how, or why?
All he knew was in the letter his late uncle had sent to him.
He heaved a sigh at that as tears pricked the corners of his eyes again.
Great Uncle Oz had been the best. Sure, they didn't talk anymore, but, he had been his idol. His hero.
He was the reason why he had joined the Police Force in the first place before eventually retiring to become a Private Investigator after he had had enough of the corruption. And, when he grown tired of all the cheating spouses and the less than satisfactory outcomes to some his more serious investigations, like that of the Case of the Malachite Twins, and transitioned into that of a less-than-award-winning writer, his uncle had encouraged him to keep moving forwards.
Ever forwards.
That was his Uncle Ozpin for you, always looking towards the future even as he remembered the past. He was a marvel.
Had been, a marvel.
He gasped for breath as the tears fell then. So much so that he had to pulled off to the side once more just to get through it.
/ /
An hour later he stopped before the gate leading up towards the Mansion beyond. He glanced at a rusting, vine-covered plate attached to the thick, red brick wall next to the double iron-wrought gates.
It read: Beacon Abbey. The Birthplace of Possibilities
Hmph he thought at that statement before looking up at the massive building up on the hill beyond. Possibilities, sure. Like where my uncle found the funds for such an estate in the first place.
He had certainly never informed him of such. That was sure.
The mansion was a true spectacle to see, though, even from here. It's ivy-coated, brick face showed over twenty different windows on its three floors and the fountain out front was burbling merrily even now. Its cobblestone driveway circled that very fountain before leading off towards the distant garage beyond.
The mansion, from what he had seen on the map sent to him alongside the letter, had upwards of a hundred rooms and was on a hundred acres of land. One surrounded by a thick, brick wall over ten feet in height and filled with old oak trees among other types of vegetation.
Somewhere in the back behind the the large building was one of two small lakes as well, though he didn't know where exactly.
As he continued to seat there, looking out at the building before him he pulled out the letter his uncle sent him once more and read it over again.
/ /
To My Dearest Nephew,
First, how are you? I do hope that you are well. I had hoped to see one of your novels at the local bookstore by now, but, alas, none so far. Still, I believe that one day, we will share one of your tales over a cup of cocoa at the local cafe.
I do know that you've published a few by now.
How, you might ask?
Well, don't snitch to the Bureau, but I might've looked at your finances from time to time over the years, just to be sure you didn't any help, of course! Ha, ha!
Kindly don't get angry with me for that. You know how I am. I couldn't just let you go off on your own without at least keeping an eye on you from time to time. And, as I thought, you've thrived out there in the greater world.
Just as I had hoped.
Far better to let you spread your wings than stifle any growth you may have had back at home at the Academy.
Yes, well, to more serious matters now.
If you are reading this, my dear boy, then it is because I am well and truly dead. Possibly, murdered. Although, I hope not. For your own sake.
For I know you, Oscar. Once you read this letter, once you find out what happened to me, you'll come looking for closure, for evidence. It's you, after all.
I taught you well, didn't I?
I'm sending this letter, as well as all related documents, in accordance with my will. You, my dear Boy, are to inherent my home, The Mansion. Beacon, we've called it, my assistants and I, and I have been living there for many years now. All while I continue with my research.
I'm sorry that I've never brought it up before now, but I wanted to keep you safe, you see. To keep you out of what I've learned, what I've done. What, I've experienced over these long years. But now, now, I can no longer do that.
I leave my ancient home, and the treasures within, to you, Nephew.
Sincerely,
Ozpin, Headmaster of the Valean Academy for Higher Learning
P.S. Trust no one you meet at the Mansion, Dear Nephew. Most likely, if I have been killed, then it was by one of them there. And show no one the research I've left you. After all, only you will be able to discover where I've hidden it.
I trust that brilliant mind of yours to discover the location. Good luck.
/ /
He read the letter once more before folding it over into squares and tucking it into a pocket. It was written in that curious mixture of his, a specific combination of humor and seriousness that only Uncle Oz ever had.
Curious.
Clang! Ratatatatatat! Clang!
He turned at a sudden cacophony of noise to find the gate to the mansion suddenly opening up as a tall man in a butler uniform with a long, brown ponytail was down towards the entrance. He got out of the car then, taking only his personal briefcase with him.
It held his personal sidearm among a few other tools of the trade.
As the man came to stand before him he suddenly swung down into an elegant bow as he said, "Young Master Pine, I believe? So good to see you again, Sir. Even if it is under such morbid circumstances as this."
He felt one of his eyebrows arch at that before saying, "And, who are you again? I don't believe we've met before. Not to my knowledge, anyway?"
With another jolt of movement the butler-if he could be called that-suddenly jerked back upright and placed a hand to his chest dramatically as he said, "My word! You jest, Sir!"
He shook his head in the negative.
"Goodness, the memories of the youth!" The strange man boasted with a shake of his head. Then he smirked, his golden eyes glinting in the light, as he bowed once more and announced, "Why, my good sir, I am Tyrian, Tyrian Callows. I was your late Uncle's trusted associate and confidant. Please, come to me if you have need of anything, and I will take care of it, my good sir!"
"Indeed." He replied in answer before asking with an eyebrow raised, "And the uniform?"
"Oh, well… in his last few years your uncle needed some help getting around. I, naturally, chose to take on the task of aiding him, myself." The man, Tyrian, said after an initial pause. He shrugged as he said as an afterthought, "It seemed only natural."
"But, of course." He replied in kind before motioning toward the large building the distance. "Well. Shall we?"
"But, of course, sir. Follow me." Tyrian said with an almost disturbing hiss as he once more bowed before swiftly turning to lead the way to his new home. He followed after him, not trusting the strange man for an instance, even if his uncle hadn't instructed him to do.
/ /
As they made their way towards the house the pair was stopped by a woman with blond hair and glasses. She wore a black pencil skirt and a white buttoned up blouse that did nothing to hide how prominent her large breasts were. In heels, she was one of those few women he had been exposed to who were taller than average. In fact she was very nearly as tall as the man, Tyrian, was.
Both of them, of course, were taller than he himself was.
She gave him a stern once-over over her glasses before adjusting them with one finger as she asked, more demanded, really, of Tyrian. "And, just who is this, Mister Callows?"
The man suddenly chuckled like a maniac as he turned and presented the man with him. "Why this is the new Master of Beacon Abbey, Oscar Pine, my good… woman."
"Oscar… Pine?" The woman questioned with an eyebrow raised even as she stiffened at Tyrian's antics.
Oscar nodded in acknowledgement of his name as he stood up straight and answered with, "Yes, ma'am."
The woman looked at him, again, staring at him intently before turning to glare down at Tyrian over her glasses once more. "Tyrian," She ordered. "Get his things from the car and put them in the master bedroom."
The man said nothing, though he did grimace at the order as he bowed before turning to leave. It was then that Oscar noticed the strange, silvery bracers on the man's forearms. They seemed intricate, complicated things.
He narrowed his eyes at that, but made no mention of it to the woman as she watched the man leave.
After a moment of silence between the two of them, the woman sighed to herself before squaring her shoulders as she turned back to face him again. She stared at him in silence for a fraction of a second, as she was looking for something, though, he didn't know what, before crossing her arms before her black pencil skirt and turning towards the closed double doors of the entrance way. She said over her shoulder as she made to open the heavy double doors, "This way, please. Master Pine."
Oscar nodded and reached down to pick up his briefcase, not noticing how the still unknown woman unlocked and opened the two heavy wooden and iron wreathed doors. He did note the beautiful stain glass windows set in the doors in the impression of a rotating clock gear, in green and brass coloring.
His uncle's emblem, if he remembered right.
As he walked after the woman, Oscar found himself glancing around at the interior of the mansion. There were various art pieces in and around the central stairway that they were on, leading upwards.
Most were statures. Some were pottery or fragments of ancient relics.
Some were simple, semi nude or nude statues of men and women, and the like. Others were more… esoteric, in nature.
Strange, twisted amalgamations in the shape of humanoids and beasts combined together or other, more eldritch-looking abominations, all in statue form.
There was also two to three statues that resembled some form of humanoid, wolf-like thing. They were truly strange. Not only did they resemble a variant of the typical werewolf they also seemed undead, with spikes sticking out from different points and with the upper half other their skulls exposed.
Truly strange, and quite horrifying to look at.
He shivered as he felt their blank gazes following after him as he followed the woman up the stairs. He blinked at that before he found himself pausing and looking back behind him towards the hallway where two of the statues were placed and stared at them for a bit.
They didn't move. Or blink.
He turned and shivered again before making his way up after the severe woman as she started down the third floor. The eyeless statues continued to stare aimlessly after him, their faces frozen in a nightmare of gnashing teeth and gaping maws.
As he walked down the third floor corridor in silence he noted that there were no doors or rooms save the one at the very end of the long, high ceiling hallway. It was, however, richly decorated with red carpets and dull, golden painted walls.
Finally, the two of them came to a stop by an elaborately carved, dark colored wooden door.
The woman stood there for a moment in silence, staring at the brass doorknob before her. Then she turned and stared at him again, once more in silence, still looking like she was trying to find something about his appearance. Then she pulled out a set of keys, all elaborately designed and gilded in gold or silver and slid one in the door's lock and turned it, unlocking the door with an audible clack.
She paused as she placed her hand on the doorknob, and swallowed. She remained silent as she stood there. He recognized what was probably going on with her after dealing various grieving family members and spouses. And going through it himself right now.
So, Oscar said nothing while he waited for her to get off her chest whatever it was she wanted to say.
Finally, she said, while still staring at the now unlocked door, "Oscar, Mr Pine, just… how are you related to Ozpin?"
He blinked at that, expecting something else, more private, less inappropriate. Then he shrugged, having been asked the same before in the past and answered with, "He's my Uncle. Well, Great Uncle. He adopted me after my aunt passed away years ago. Helped me out ever since then. Raised me." He shrugged and muttered, "He was family. I loved him."
He then gritted his teeth and clenched his fists before biting out, "And, now he's gone… and I don't know why."
The woman seemed to pause for a moment at that before nodding and opening the door. He heard her muttered under her breath then as she started inside the room, "Loved him."
He stepped in after her and paused at what he saw. It was an office. And an opulent one, at that.
He looked around the room, taking notes of the objects and items therein, and noticed a door off to one side. He figured that that must be the master bedroom as he saw no other doors leading off from the corridor beside the one he was currently in.
Strange, that. For, again, he had noted the many windows outside on the third floor. Perhaps there was another way up to the third floor? It was a large house, after all.
He also noted the single large desk with the equally large, plush rolling chair behind it. And the trio of floor to ceiling bookcases behind both, filled entirely with books of all sizes.
Glorious.
He narrowed his eyes at the paperwork left out on the desk. Almost like it was left out on purpose he thought quietly as he saw that.
The woman finally turned back to him, then, presenting the room with a wave of her hand and said as she stood there, "Welcome, to the former Master's private office. This is where he and I would work on his discoveries, together. "
Then she bowed before turning to leave, almost flashing him with her exposed bust. She paused at the door before looking over her shoulder and said, "My name is Glynda Goodwitch, by the way. I was your uncle's personal assistant. You may call on me for anything, Mr. Pine."
Then she left the room without waiting for his response.
A/N: A bit of backstory for this... story. It was another Suggestion for the Ideas for New Stories. It kind of crawled in the back of my head and wouldn't go away (You know that itch fellow writers, don't you.) after I read Ree-Dur's Lie REn, Private Eye. Here's hoping he'll write more chapters for that soon.
