Chapter Fourteen
I wasn't going to lie, I knew I was running from my problems. Resting on top of my mountain at my full size, the flat-top providing a good seat to look out over my personal domain, I let out a deep, shuddering, ember-ridden breath, and tried to figure out why what had happened affected me so badly.
Except I already knew, on some level. I'd expected Beacon to be better. I'd expected the staff of the world that taught literal superhuman warriors to not have petty bullshit, especially considering how much damage a single determined and intelligent Huntsman could probably do.
Then again, with the fact that people like Cardin Winchester were allowed to act with seeming impunity, and with the fact that, even with superhuman warriors, things were still shit, I shouldn't be surprised.
"I should've gone to UA," I grumbled to myself. Then again, I would 1) be fifteen instead of seventeen, 2) be dealing with Japanese Bureaucratic bullshit where saving people without a license got you in trouble, and 3) not be a dragon.
No, I'd chosen this, I just had to deal. It was just. . . that stupid cow had hit all of my buttons. Passive-aggressiveness, dereliction of duty, abuse of power and authority, not even bothering to tell me what the fuck I'd apparently done wrong!
I took another breath, and let it out, wisps of flame dancing in the air, suddenly aware of the Stamp, minute in comparison to my current form, finding it perfectly balanced on one claw. With this I could make her be nice, make her tell me what the fuck I'd done, make her do her job. Hell, I'd even get paid for it!
I tossed it off the mountain.
It reappeared.
I put it to the side.
No, I thought. While it might be the banality of evil at play, all the 'small' actions that led to big things, Mind Control wasn't the answer. Mind Control was never the answer, at least if I wasn't willing to outright kill the person, and, as much as what had happened infuriated me, that wasn't a proportional response.
Even if it was tempting, if only for a moment.
Shaking my enormous head, I toggled my size downwards, shifting back to a person, and checking the time, finding it'd only been an hour.
Not really feeling like facing my teammates after my little temper tantrum, running away, crying, like a child, I stepped off the side of the mountain, wings open, letting the wind carry me lazily back towards the mansion. I was being stupid, probably, but I just didn't want to have to deal with the questions, the recriminations, the accusations, or whatever else was waiting for me as soon as I got back.
I laughed as I entered the kitchen to make lunch, the Stamp there waiting for me. I had no memory of how I'd gotten into this situation, whether I'd signed up for this, or got drafted, but I could see how, even if I wouldn't've agreed to this explicitly, I could've agreed to this in theory. A simple stamp and I wouldn't have to worry about getting stabbed in the back, worry about those I depended on accepting my help, but disappearing as soon as I needed them. One simple act, and I could trust them, because their loyalty would be assured.
All it would take is enslaving them.
"Would you like to have someone who you knew would stand by you?" I asked the room at large, knowing that my answer would be a resounding Yes. "Would you like to have someone you knew cared for you?" Also yes. "Hell, would you like to help people?" I questioned, as, from a certain point of view, I would be helping them by stamping them, giving them protections they normally wouldn't have and, very likely diverting their timeline to not be so shit. It's what I was planning to do here, after all. It's what I was doing for Jaune, by being him, and I still didn't know how that'd worked.
It'd been a spur of the moment decision, but, like coming here in the first place, it wasn't one I could take back, just one I had to live with.
Taking a bite of the grilled cheese I'd made without thinking, I was momentarily distracted by how amazingly fucking good it was. Right, forgot to turn down Fairy Feast, I realized, glad I was immune to its more insidious effects.
Despite myself, I felt a bit better. "Okay," I sighed, letting the house clean up, and wandered out, not really having anything I needed to do. Today's class, if you could call it that, hadn't given us any homework. My habit of making sure that stuff got done ASAP bit me here, as I didn't really have anything else to do. I supposed I could read ahead, but I'd pissed off enough teachers by doing that already.
Taking in the open area, I considered what else I needed to work on. Combat ability, for one, but I really needed a partner to do that effectively. I wanted to find my Semblance, but, if it was anything like Jaune's, I'd need someone else to work on that as well. That left my own draconic abilities. Again.
Then again, I was working on my Draconic Abilities, so I should stop fucking whining and be enjoy being a dragon.
Focusing, I brought up just a small amount of Flame, and breathing it out, just wanting enough to work with. It spread out on the grass, but didn't burn anything. Reaching down to scoop it up, I frowned, as the grass below it was perfectly fine. Feeling it, the ground was warm, but not hot, just like the handful of prismatic flames I now held.
Standing, I turned my attention to the fire. I could toss it from hand to hand, and, with it so close, I could feel some sort of connection to it. Closing my eyes, I fed it more fire from my core, without having to breathe it out, feeling the power of the flame still increase.
Looking at what I was holding, it'd grown three times as big as it'd been before, but, when I tried to pull it back the other way, nothing happened. It took me a long moment before I realized the issue. I was a dragon of Creation. I could make the fire, but I couldn't unmake the fire.
Except I had.
Or had I?
Watching the dancing flames, I mentally pushed it down and out, only for the fire to not go out, like I'd thought, but to almost. . . drain into my glove, the bottom of the flames sinking into my palm, and, barely on the edge of perception, sending glowing patterns through my glove that quickly disappeared.
Trying to pull the fire back, it was gone, and I flexed my glove, the material stiff, but quickly softening back up again.
Pulling up another bit of prismatic flame, I spit it into my hands, catching it, pushing it down, and watching the patterns. They were spiraling, almost fractal, parts curling in on themselves in a way reminiscent of the patterns on the inside membrane of my wings.
Doing so another few times, the patterns started to take longer and longer to disappear. I kept going, bathing both of my gloves in flame over and over again until, barely visible, the designs didn't completely vanish, leaving marginally darker sections on my light brown gloves, with slightly lighter tracing on the black sections that laid over the palms and backs of my hands.
Flexing them, the leather felt like it was made of iron, but, with Aura, I could bend iron. Working the gloves back and forth, they seemed to. . . settle, moving more and more naturally. Taking a moment as I got ready to move onto the hoodie I wore as an ersatz gambeson. I blinked, realizing the sun was starting to set.
I'd fallen into the repetitive process, losing track of time, and it was only now that I realized I was exhausted. My inner flame was at a low flicker, slowly building itself up, but not nearly as quickly as it normally did, my muscles ached, I was soaked with sweat, and I was ravenously hungry.
Not wanting to show up like this, provoking even more questions, I staggered off to take a shower, grabbing a few apples from the kitchen as I passed by, eating then, stems and all, barely tasting them. Getting out, I found the mansion had cleaned my clothes, and I shook my head, getting dressed and feeling like I'd been fighting for an hour straight.
It was an odd sort of pain, not quite in my muscles, but not in my bones either, just a feeling of emptiness and . . . strain.
Heading down to the portal room, I queued up a doorway, still forced to re-open where I'd opened the last one, as I hadn't collected a single point for the Company. Instantly, my scroll metaphorically blew up as I reconnected to Remnant's CCT, with texts, emails, and, apparently, one hundred and twenty-one calls from Ruby.
"What the fuck?" I swore. Yeah, it'd been about six hours but. . . who did that? I mean, I'd heard of people doing that, but that was usually of the crazy ex-girlfriend variety, and none of my exes had been crazy in a way that meant they actually cared.
I'd called my friends a few times if we were supposed to do something and they just. . . didn't show up, or when they went incommunicado, but I'd never had anyone do that to me. Well, other than my mother, but that always had a 'how dare you not answer my call instantly' tone to them, not actually caring and that many. . . that was more than just someone being angry, and Ruby didn't have a reason to be angry. I mean, neither had the cow, but I knew Ruby, if only a little.
There were also texts, and. . . an email from Glynda, sent minutes after I'd sent mine to her, saying she'd look into it? And then another, from an hour ago, saying the teacher would be reprimanded? That. . . didn't happen. I mean, it was supposed to, but it never actually did. What always happened was I'd get some noncommittal reply, and then a week later I'd be told to shut up about it, or whoever it was would lie, and be taken at their word, and I'd be punished, because they had institutional power, and I didn't.
Yang had texted me, asking if I was okay, as had Pyrrha. Hell even Blake had sent an apology, though I wasn't sure what for, but that, too, was odd. I was used to performative apologies, where a person would make sure to do so in front of others to show how 'reasonable' they were, only to do whatever it was they were apologizing for a few weeks later, not actually being sorry.
What the hell is going on? I wondered, confused, trying to figure this out. Before I could do anything else, my scroll lit up with another call from Ruby. I froze, not really sure what to do. Did I hang up? She'd likely know this one actually got through. Grimacing, I clicked answer, only for Ruby to shout "YOU PICKED UP! Hey guys, I finally got through!"
A muted "What, really?" from Yang made me wonder what exactly had been going on. "Hey, Light-Knight, where'd ya go?" the blonde asked, her voice came through the speakers clearly. "We saw ya fly away, and then ya dropped off completely."
"Needed some time for myself," I replied lamely, walking up to the portal back to Remnant, a shimmering ovoid, as there hadn't been any physical doors nearby to hook into. "Sorry, I just-"
"No, it's okay!" Ruby interrupted. "I get it. I don't like to be around people when I get like that either, but we're you're friends!"
Yang agreed. "Yeah, even if ya get a little weepy," she laughed, and I winced.
"You mean like you do when you run out of shampoo?" Ruby asked, provoking a "Ruby!" from her sister. "But, like, you didn't need to. And we talked to Ms. Goodwitch and she looked an-gry!"
"I, really?" I asked, stepping through the portal and into the forest of Forever Fall, where'd I set down after I'd left Beacon. Stopping, a dozen Beowolfs, all of whom were sniffing around, paused, turning baleful red eyes towards me.
The closest one, only a couple feet away, growled and swung a clawed hand for my head. Without thinking I turned, and caught the limb in my free hand. I fully expected the Aura drain and phantom pain as it tried to tear through the thin leather of my glove, but I felt nothing at all, just pressure.
"Jaune?" Ruby asked, as the other Beowolfs snarled. They started to close, and I turned, pulling the Grimm next to me over, using my body as the fulcrum before throwing it into the others. Another Beowulf lunged, but I turned, catching it's paw as well, wincing as I felt the not-pain as a claw hit my uncovered finger, draining my Aura, but the sharp points that hit my glove were stopped cold.
Tossing it to the side, I leapt high, manifesting my wings and flapping off, leaving the ground-bound Grimm to howl in frustration. I realized what the pressure was, right as I lost sight of them. It was the same sense of pressure that I felt when I used my shield.
Whatever I'd done, bathing my gloves in my flames and sinking it into them over and over again, had strengthened the material a great deal. It hadn't done anything ridiculous, like make gauntlets of force, as my unprotected fingers had been just as vulnerable as before, but it'd made the smooth, supple leather gloves as strong as metal. Instinctively, I knew they weren't invincible, that a strong enough force would still tear through them, but it did open up a lot of possibilities.
"Jaune!" Ruby's voice cried through my scroll, "Are you okay?"
Realizing that she'd like just heard me say wait, and then Grimm noises, I quickly responded, "Just some Beowolfs that got nosy, no big deal, I'm on my way back now."
"On you way- where are you Jaune?" the team leader demanded, her high pitched, girlish voice making the demand more cute than irritating.
"Um, the place with red trees? I'll be there in five," I reassured her, but it didn't help.
It was Yang who said, "Forever Fall? But that's, like, miles away. How'd you get all the way over there?"
"Um, I flew?" I asked, rhetorically. I was already feeling a bit better, despite the somewhat smothering feeling of the air in Remnant, my own internal reservoir of fire nearly refilled. Pushing Aura into wings that didn't feel so stiff anymore, I accelerated, the ground blurring below me. It was nothing on what I could get up to in my larger forms, but it was still more than fast enough to get back in a timely fashion. "Can you open my window?" I asked, and there was silence on the other end.
Hoping they had, I quickly approached Beacon, flying in low. Crossing over the wall that protected the campus, I noted the air here felt. . . calmer. Less roiling smoke and more settled striations of haze, if that made any sense. Coming to the dorms, my window was open, and I flew in, to find Ruby, Yang, and Pyrrha waiting for me, with quite different expressions on their faces.
Ruby looked concerned, but also happy, which. . . confused me. Yang wore a smug grin, but there was an edge of something else to it. Pyrrha, however. . . Pyrrha just looked sad, and I had no idea why.
"You're back!" the smallest of the three cheered, using her Semblance to cross the dozen feet between us in an instant, looking as if she were going for a hug, then aborting it at the last minute to raise both arms in the air and cheer.
"I said I'd be back later," I reminded her, not sure about the reception, looking to the other two for some clue. Yang's brittle smile softened a little, even as Pyrrha's frown deepened.
It was the older sister who replied with a, "People say that. Then things happen. And they aren't."
"Pyrrha said you were hurting, and that it wasn't just what Professor Amakuni said, but how you were treated before, so we shouldn't bug you, but I was like 'that's when we should bug you' because we're your friends and helping is what friends are for!" added Ruby, glancing at the other redhead as she did so, the gladiatrix grimacing slightly, likely not having expected the younger girl to outright say what she had apparently shared with her.
The fact that she cared enough to offer that advice, and that Ruby cared enough to ignore it was. . . well, it was weird. Sure people said things like that, hell I'd said things like that, but I'd never seen anyone else actually mean it.
I pulled back a little, trying to figure out what I was missing. People just weren't that nice. I'd thought they were, before, but experience after experience had proven me wrong. They were nice, as long as it didn't inconvenience them, and then, suddenly, they'd find reasons not to be. And, if you dared to point this out, then suddenly you were bad and needed to be punished.
Jaune's sisters were nice, but they were also very possessive, driving off every other friend he'd ever had, exclusivity being the price for their 'kindness'. I didn't even have that level of caring in my own life, always with people that said they cared, right up until I was vulnerable, and then, when I was weak and unable to help them, they left, striking out at me if I dared ask for their assistance.
"Ruby," I tried, "We've known each other for less than a week. I. . . that's. . . I'm sorry," I defaulted to, falling back on old patterns. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't've let myself get so. . ." Triggered might be the correct term, but in my old life it'd be misused to the point of near meaninglessness. "Affected, by what happened," I tried instead.
The small girl stared at me in disbelief. "That's. . . you think I'm mad because you got upset?"
"You aren't?" I asked, now completely lost. I'd been down this pattern before. I needed to be in control, firm, or else others would react badly, as if I were some dangerous beast, or pathetic, despite not actually doing any of the things that they suggested I might do, capability treated the same as fault but never going the other way, and-
"Of course I'm not!" she disagreed. "I'm mad because you didn't let us help! We're your friends, Jaune!"
I wasn't fast enough to hid my wince, "You're not the first to say that, and then. . . the floor can look stable, but just as easily give way if you're not careful," I offered, trying to explain it without outright calling her a liar.
Ruby pouted, and, while adorable, that didn't really matter with what we were talking about. "Then those people weren't really your friends, Jaune. They were just. . . dirty liars who lied. But I am!"
For a second I didn't see her, but my cousin. Who'd said, while not those exact words, something very similar. Then she'd left for a semester abroad and what came back. . . wasn't her. Oh, she still looked like her, and sounded like her, but suddenly every plan we had was cancelled if it didn't involve me helping her, and even the mere suggestion that she might help me was treated with scorn, like I'd done something wrong just by asking.
And when I'd finally broken down, begged her to tell me what I did wrong, she'd lied to my face about things that'd happened, gave explanations that didn't make sense in larger contexts, and told me I didn't communicate enough, that I needed to be more open and honest, when that was what I'd been doing the entire time.
"You're not the first to say that either," I sighed, looking away.
Yang stepped closer, not between us, but to the side, forming a triangle so that she wasn't exactly standing with her sister, but not exactly next to me either. "I got ya, Arcs. Ya think we're solid, but yer not sure if we'll leave you. . . Yangin'."
"But Yang, you know I wouldn't!" Ruby objected. "Hey!" she added, as her sister patted her head.
"I know that, little sis, but he doesn't, and ya can't just say, 'I'm good, trust me!' It doesn't work that way," the blonde said, shooting me a complex look.
"But I am!" the tiny team lead argued.
Yang half-frowned in thought. "Remember Diam? What he was like?"
At that her sister gasped, "I'm not like him! How could you say that?"
"Remember what he was like at first?" the blonde prodded undeterred.
"Diam?" I asked, a little lost.
The older sister glanced at me. "Diam Davies was a. . ."
"He was a meanie!" Ruby announced.
"He was a little snotrag," Yang agreed. "But he pretended to be nice. Tried to pressure Rubes into doing all his work for him; one of those 'but I thought we were friends' dick-bags. We got him back though, at least once my little sis started listening to her awesome older sister."
"Yaaaang," Ruby whined, but glanced at me, and sighed. "Fine. I get it if you're not. . . you know. Ready for friends or whatever. But I'm not gonna be goin' anywhere, okay! You need help, and I'm gonna be right there!"
The declaration was so painfully honest, so pure, that I choked up a little, only for her eyes to go wide, and for her to rush to the window, closing it with a slam. "Nope! No running! You just got back and, and, you'll miss dinner!"
While some part of me was a little annoyed at the presumption, I laughed, shaking my head. "I'm not going to head out again it's just. . ." I trailed off. I believed Ruby, that she was being honest in this moment, the problem was that, every time I had something like this, a golden moment where I thought things were going to get better, it all turned out to be a mirage, one everyone would tell me I was stupid for believing in when it all came crashing down, and usually sooner rather than later.
I felt a weight in my hand, a way to ensure that the moment wouldn't fade, that the person who proclaimed themself my friend wouldn't turn, or be turned by another, or let me down, or stab me in the back because it'd get them something, or abandon me the second supporting me cost them something.
I pocketed the Stamp.
"Actually, I was wondering if I could have a moment to talk to Jaune," Pyrrha chimed in, the first words she'd said since I'd arrived.
"But, I just said I wasn't gonna be goin' anywhere!" Ruby argued, causing her sister to shake her head.
"I wouldn't count across the hall as going anywhere," I offered, and, after a moment of consideration, the small redhead nodded.
"Come on, Yang, we need to tell the others that he's back!" she announced, grabbing Yang's hand and dragging her out of the room, closing the door with a slam.
There was a moment of silence as we looked at each other from across the room, before Pyrrha motioned towards our beds, asking "Would you like to sit down?" Without saying anything I took a seat on my bed, her across from me on hers. "I apologize for all of this," she started, and I gave her a confused look. "For telling the others about you."
"Did you tell them anything I told you in confidence?" I asked, trying to figure out where she was coming from.
"Well, no," she admitted.
"Did you tell them anything I asked you not to share?" I tried again, starting to get an idea of what she was feeling guilty over.
"No, I would never!" she replied, shocked at the very idea.
"So you shared your personal observations, to try to help them not hurt me," I nodded. "Pyrrha. . . thank you."
"Then, you're not upset that I. . ." she trailed off, looking down.
I stood, and she looked up at me, unsure. The woman who could destroy me in the battlefield, and who could apparently see right through me, but didn't seem to understand me in the slightest. Stepping forward, I leaned down slightly, and put my hands on her shoulders.
"Pyrrha. You were trying to help. How could I ever get upset with you over that?" I asked gently.
She stared back, looking just as confused as I'd felt a few moments ago, before she saw something in my face and nodded, smiling slightly. "I suppose, when you put it like that, it seems foolish."
I stepped back, to my own bed, and sighed as I sat. "No, it's not. At least with another person. But I'm. . . odd. Weird. Off. I'm well aware there's something wrong with me but-"
"No there isn't!" she objected, standing herself, and sounding offended. "There's nothing wrong with you, Jaune!"
Skeptically, I glanced in the direction of the engineering hall. "Pretty sure a number of people would disagree with that, Pyrrha."
She sat, huffing. "You're not off, you're just. . . different," she informed me.
"Pretty sure that's just the polite way of saying there's something wrong with me," I pointed out.
"I meant what I said," she informed me heatedly, before closing her eyes and releasing a sigh of her own. "If you were like everyone else Jaune, then I wouldn't. . ." she paused, considering what she said, "Then I wouldn't enjoy being on your team, even if it's only been a few days, as much as I have. I do believe that I like the way you are, Jaune Arc, and I'd not have you change just because you think you should be 'like everyone else'." She paused, shooting me a curious look, "Unless you believe that I should be like everyone else. Do you?"
"No!" I replied, thinking of the others I'd dealt with, and how many of them had claimed 'normality', but had really just used it to excuse their common malignance. "I. . . it's just. . . really? You like, this, overreactions and all?" I asked, looking to her, and she looked back at me, eye wide, clear, and honest, and it struck me like a physical blow when she nodded.
I. . . I didn't know what to do with this. I felt the Stamp in my pocket, telling me that I could lock this moment forever. Hell, I didn't even have to do it without her consent. This was a girl that was willing to mutilate her soul to save others. What was the Stamp compared to that?
But. . . I needed time. Time to put myself together. Time to see how things played out. Time to see if Pyrrha really was who I thought she was, who she presented herself as.
"One month," I said, without really meaning to.
"What?" she asked, not understanding.
"In one month, I'll talk to you about this again. About. . . me," I told her, making a decision, and ready to live with it. "In the meantime, just keep. . . being you," I requested.
Pyrrha laughed, covering her mouth as she did so, a musical sound that made my heart hurt. "I don't think I can be anyone else, Jaune. But if you feel it will take that long to understand that I'm me, I understand. Do you still wish to spar this weekend?"
I laughed myself, nodded, and I felt better, like maybe, despite the corruption choking the air around us, things wouldn't be so bad here.
I'd watch, and observe, and hope for the best while being on the lookout for proof I was wrong. And, if it lasted a month, and I was right, and she agreed, then perhaps I'd have someone I could finally trust completely and wholeheartedly.
There was a great deal of difference between enslavement and willing cooperation, after all.