Arslan felt her blood boil at the sheer absurdity of the question. Take off an honor mark? Was he insane? Or just incredibly disrespectful.
"I'm sorry, whAT DID YOU JUST ASK?" She yelled, standing up. "DID I JUST SERIOUSLY HEAR YOU ASK A MAN TO REMOVE HIS SENDAL?" At this point she was roaring and snarling. The sheer blasphemy of the suggestion crossed way beyond the line. "Do you ask nuns to surrender their rosaries and crosses?" her voice had faltered, but was still seething with rage and scalding hot. She was no longer shouting, but still snarling with projection. The poor professor was still reeling from Arslan's attack.
"YOU JUST DON'T ASK A MAN TO DO THAT!" The class was stunned. The normally reserved Arslan Altan had exploded, and that event alone was shocking. The fact that it was over something that was to them as insignificant as a waist wrapping. Jaune looked up at Arslan with wide grayed blue eyes.
"THAT IS HIS HONOR, HIS PRIDE! YOU DON'T JUST DO THAT! YOU DON'T JUST ASK THAT OF A MAN-"
Jaune stood up, putting a hand on her shoulder. He let out a small breath that gushed over the entire classroom, like the whispers of a graveyard wind. Her words were robbed from her mouth, and for a moment she couldn't hear anything at all. No one in the class could. She could feel his presence behind her, creeping in like a pale yellow fog at the edges of her view.
She blinked, turning to look at him. "Arslan." He said softly, his voice full of a tender light. "Thank you. Now sit down." He pleaded with the force of nature. The word please was added after a moment. Arslan pursed her lips, still red in the face, and gave the teacher one last bone chilling death glare.
"Fine." She crossed her arms with a pout. Having finally relinquished to him, Jaune sat down. He looked at the edge of the table, where Arslan lad left scratch marks.
Man, glad I ended that when I did. He thought to himself.
B pouted with disappointment. I kind of wanted to see her go off.
Jaune ignored him, focusing on the class as it returned to functionality. Cathode spent the day exploring Western Mistral Era medical techniques. Why they used powdered silver in their medicines, their unique way of field boiling water. Throw raw high energy dust in a pot. You know, the same stuff that we power most energy plants with today. Jaune remembered. That could not be good for people's health.
It probably wasn't. I remember the Remus people dying from a lot of metal poisoning. A said.
Jaune gave a shrug of agreement, closing his book. Class ends in what, five minutes?
"Six, Jaune." Arslan whispered at him. "Class ends in six minutes."
Jaune tilted his head at her. "I suppose I said that outloud, didn't I?"
She nodded, looking over her own notes. "You did." She hummed, closing her notes with satisfaction.
"Why did you not defend yourself earlier?" Arslan asked him. Jaune gave a soft humming sound.
"Because it wasn't necessary." Jaune shrugged, as though it were nothing. Arslan gave him a shocked, wide eyed look.
"Would you have taken it off if I had not intervened?" She asked with worry, wondering if such oaths could even be considered removed. Jaune raised an eyebrow at her.
"No. Why would I?"
Arslan let out a sigh of relief. There had been a moment there when she had questioned Jaune. "What would you have done then?"
Jaune sat straight up, popping his back with a stretch. "Nothing as dramatic as that, of course." He bowed with whatever flair he could muster. "I would have taken him aside after class. There is a difference between belligerence and ignorance, and I find that the former is more likely than the latter."
Arslan thought it over. "Still…" She tapered off. Jaune just moved on, heading to his next class. It should have been combat, but it was unlikely that he was going to be called to fight. The nurse did say that he wasn't going to be for a couple days at least.
Well, at least we can enjoy the bloodbath. A said with some amount of glee. Jaune rolled his shoulder, the one that Dr. Cortez had broken last night. It felt fine, but the Doctor's orders and all that. He wondered if he could skip this class to go explore the library or something. He wanted to go study some older history and maybe look at some books on poetry and cryptography. Deciphering the texts from the Dream required a lot of mental gymnastics, as Jaune had discovered when he had found some of the first writings in a different language.
He wondered how long he had spent in the Dream. It was not an uncommon pondering for him, and he wondered if he could even equate time in the Dream. It didn't seem to change that much.
Well, things can move in it in a linear fashion, B reasoned out, So time must exist there.
Jaune slipped his way through the crowd, gliding through them as if he was a ghost. Arslan had to blink as the world seemed to shift before her eyes, that same gray yellow feeling creeping at the back of her mind, or maybe it was at the back of her reality? She couldn't tell. She shook her head, refocusing on the ranger as he practically flew his way past the crowd. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn that he had just clipped through someone like a poorly coded videogame. She sighed, removing that thought from her head.
That would be impossible. She thought, pushing her way through the between class crowds. It was a ridiculous thought, because it was indeed impossible.
"Sorry, pardon me, please move." She said, ducking and shoving her way through with as much politeness as she could muster. She eventually managed to make it to the entrance of the Gym, where combat class was held. Jaune was standing at the entrance, despite having arrived far sooner than her.
"What are you waiting for?" Arslan asked the blonde ranger. "Nervous?" She really couldn't imagine the blonde ranger not being nervous about fighting, if what she had seen was anything to go by.
Jaune looked down at her. "No. I am considering going to the library instead." He admitted to her.
She snorted. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad." She said as she walked past him, turning her head to look back at him. "Well? Come on Jaune."
Jaune sighed, relenting to the lioness and following after her. The main combat ring was what was often used for combat class, and was large enough for an eight man fight. Arslan looked over his shoulder at one of many smaller rings. "What in the world happened there?" She asked, looking at the ruined and warped combat ring that Jaune and Cortez had fought in.
"Nothing." Jaune had managed, moving up to the seats surrounding the pit. Arslan joined her team, while Jaune chose a seat a little further back, closer to the wall and exit. Arslan shook her head. I should have figured. She mentally sighed. She had forgotten that Jaune was a rather cold person, all and all.
She plopped herself down with the rest of team ARBN, sitting between Bolin and Reese. "So, what kept you?" Bolin asked her with suspicious eyes.
"I asked Jaune some questions." She responded without that much attention, instead focusing on the teacher as she took to the center of the ring.
"Good day, class." She said, trying to corral the chatter into silence. The class eventually fell quiet and in line.
"Good morning, Professor Hart." The class echoed back with a lacking enthusiasm.
"Today we have exhibition matches. You know the drill, intensive one v ones. Mr. Scarlet! Ms. Callestare, to the ring!" She barked out. The redhead of team sun and some brunette woman from across the ring stood up. They clambered over the other students, like viewers at a movie theater trying to make it to get extra popcorn. They went into the gym locker rooms to change into appropriate comat clothes.
A few minutes later the two fighters entered the ring. Jaune squinted down at them, utterly confused by their choice of combat attire.
Those are halloween costumes. He pointed out to his renters. Scarlet was wearing something that really offered no protection at all, unless that captain's coat was far thicker than it looked. The girl, Callestare, on the other hand looked more akin to a club stripper than a hunter.
Jaune! A scold sharply. You can't just say that about someone.
Jaune rolled his eyes. Ok, firstly, I thought about it. I did not say it. And secondly, I can see her tits from here… He trailed off, frankly more confused about why anyone would use that as combat clothes. It wasn't even like her shirt was armored. It was just a shirt with some belts across her chest.
I don't see the practicality to it. B shrugged. It just makes her an easier thing to kill. Paints her into a target the size of the broad side of a barn.
Jaune leaned forward, picking apart the two fighters as they circled each other. The girl had dual pistols while the pirate impersonator had a cutlass and flintlock.
Why would you use such out of date technology? Why not use a pistol instead? B criticized as the two leveled their firearms at each other. The girl, Callestare, pulled the trigger on her machine pistols. A veritable spray of small ammunition fire scattered across the arena as Scarlet's aura flashed. He retaliated with his own blast of round shot before diving at her with his sword.
She managed to dodge the flintlock shot, which of course went wide because it's a smoothbore. She, however, did not manage to avoid getting hit in the face with a sharp metal stick. Her pale aura shimmered as she reeled from the impact. Jaune shook his head as the two traded blows between quick reloads and disengagement, each time taking some ridiculous pose or form before going back at it. Jaune couldn't help but sigh at the display.
Half of this mockery is just posing! Jaune wanted to shout at them, Just try and kill each other already. Sweet oum.
B was inclined to agree. They do know that they're not models for Huntsman daily, right?
I have no idea. Jaune thought, watching Callestare waste most of a magazine, shooting at Scarlet's large billowing jacket rather than Scarlet himself. The ranger rubbed at his temples, as though the combat below was giving him a headache.
They had come within melee combat again, and Scarlet was making the best of it, wailing down on the woman.
An air horn fired off as the stadium flashed with a red light. "Winner, by aura, Scarlet David!" Professor Hart barked. The two separated, standing upright. "Now, shake hands and thank each other for the duel." The two did exactly that. They shook hands, and Scarlet gave his thank you with a smile. Callestare did not, instead giving hers with the shame of someone who had been beaten.
Ms. Hart gave her review in short whispers as she led them back to the edge of the ring. The next fight, between two people that Jaune found neither interesting or engaging, was unnoteworthy. It was a lot of two people with swords trying to hit each other, and ended with a ring out.
At least he had good maneuverability. B commented on the winner.
Yeah, but the grip work the other dude had was impressive. A responded, giving the loser his credit. Jaune shrugged, not really caring.
Both of them were rather boring, to be honest. He thought to themselves. They weren't anything special.
That they weren't. A admitted. But still, it was less terrible than that embarrassment of a fight earlier.
Jaune nodded, grimacing at the recent memory. The fight felt so cinematic, so unreal. It was so much closer to fantasy than an actual fight. Like a movie fight that was not done by fighters, but by a showman director.
It was just an affront to combat. Maybe that was the point? Being flashy and a spectacle? He knew that the showman competitive culture was a big thing in Mistral, and it was very evident whenever you walked downtown. Flyers and advertisements for show matches, fights, and other combat related things were everywhere, surrounding you with every step you took. He could see why his father hated it. It did make a mockery of the practice.
It left people without a respect for the art of violence.
We could reintroduce them to the sport. A suggested, excited at the idea of exhilarating combat again. Jaune considered it, pondering over this brave new world, where showmanship was valued over effectiveness. Even in that last, uninteresting fight they chose times to be flashy over deadly.
They are young. Jaune decided after a moment. I hope they learn otherwise.
The dream has made us callous. A said despondent, as though they had lost some great artistic opportunity. Never became the great painter they could have been, instead forming themselves into a sculpture or poet. Callous and cold. Realistic, knowledgeable, powerful, and perhaps even skilled, yes. But broken and cold nonetheless.
Jaune bit the inside of his cheek, the pain nothing as deep as the pain knowing that A was right. He had grown cold. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed with friends, or out of joy beyond madness.
He wondered if others could feel his chill yet.
He wondered if Arslan could feel his chill.
There apparently was enough time for one more match, but Jaune couldn't bring himself to watch. He instead opted to think. He found himself thinking a lot recently, particularly in the long gaps between battles in the Dream. Infested with nightmarish corrupted drunken things as it was, there were actually large gaps of time and space between most of the actual fights. Jaune at the moment was considering the morals and ethics of his recent jarring discovery. It was something that the more he thought about it, the less bad it seemed. But he also directly benefited from the fermented souls of the dead being portable magic healing booze, so that might be warping his logic there. It was something he really should have considered asking someone else about. Get an outside and probably more sane view.
But how in the world would you even start that conversation?
Oh so, buddy, is it ethical to consume the rotten souls of the dead if they make me feel like I just snorted a line of oxycontin laced with cocaine? Jaune could just imagine how that would go. He would probably be thrown into an insane asylum for that alone.
He would have to think about that some more. The fight ended while Jaune was musing about the Dream, trying to figure out the many secrets it had presented him with. The story of the tower, the dead farm, the endless city, the portals and the ashes. The magic. All of it. All of it was so freaking confusing. It was like he had several different puzzles made by the same factory: all the same shape, but with different colors. Not quite the best metaphor, Jaune mused. It didn't do justice to the complex mess that was the intertwining tangle of strings on a cork board.
Jaune barely registered that the class had ended once people had started to pass him. Someone had stopped in front of him, waiting for him to move. Jaune looked up, seeing the dark chocolate legs of one Arslan Altan. He let his eyes wander over her body, looking at the strong muscled ligaments and frame covered by the dark plaid school uniform.
I must say, I very much prefer her in brighter colors. It contrasts with her skin tone so much better, really makes her shine. A said, admiring her in a school uniform. Although I will say she does look good in it.
Please, no. B pleaded with A. If you're going to do this, I'm going to sleep.
Arslan raised an eye at Jaune as she watched him just observe her. It didn't quite feel… lecherous, but it did feel a little sexual. If that was the right word. Yeah, that was probably the right word.
"Enjoying the view, Jaune?" She asked, taking a power stance that put the ranger in her shadow.
Jaune looked up to meet her green eyes. "I suppose." he said, looking her up and down. "Although, I must say that black really does not do you justice."
Arslan felt her lips purse with embarrassment. "Shut." She murmured, moving to let Jaune escape the Gym. Bolin practically growled as Jaune passed him, cutting him off in the narrow passage.
Man, wonder what his issue is. Jaune wondered as he made his way to the door.
"So, Jaune, what class are you going to next?" Rheese asked, poking her head out from behind Arslan's shoulder and pushing Bolin to the side. Arslan pushed the skaters face away with an exasperated sigh.
"Rheese, you can't just tackle me like that." She sighed, clearly having lost that battle long ago. Rheese just pouted, and promptly dropped her chin on the dark monk's shoulder.
The other, not short blonde had to wrack his head for that answer. He was pretty sure that he had an empty class period at the moment.
That sounds right, right? Free period, then Whatever the Fuck Dr. Cortez is Teaching. Jaune mused, posing the question to his tenets.
B's eyes looked upwards, trying to find out the answer. Yeah, that sounds correct. Why didn't we write this down? The figment asked the other two.
A just shrugged. You think I keep track of that kind of shit?
Jaune decided that that sounded about right. "I believe that I have a free period in the Library, and then Dr. Cortez's class."
Arslan raised an eyebrow, ducking aside. "Oh, you have WETFTIs?" She asked, grimacing.
Jaune's face shifted inperceptivly at the acronym. "I'm sorry?" he asked, questioning the acronym.
"Whatever The Fuck This Is." Arslan clarified with a wince. Jaunes eyes widened at that name.
I'm surprised he got his class named that. A said.
Jaune pushed the door open, exiting into the bustling hallway once more. His eyes darted, glancing around the hall taking inventory of everyone that passed.
The girl with the blonde hair and the charm on her scroll dashing past people, the dark man stolling to the Gym entrance, the-
Jaune, we really don't need to psychoanalyze every random person that passes, do we? A complained as Juane took mental tally.
Yes, yes we do. B argued. Any of them could be a threat.
And for every threat there, there are probably a thousand non threats. A sighed. We can't be paranoid all the time.
Why not? B asked his counterpart, honestly wanting an answer.
I leaned back, exasperated. Because it's fucking exausting. Let's think about other things instead, like WETFTIs.
"I feel that the name is going to be very on-brand for Dr. Cortez." Jaune mused, turning to head towards the library. He turned to the doors of the library, quietly entering the back entrance. The rows and rows of books reminded Jaune of what the expansive collections of magebooks and bound pages in the Dream must have looked like before they turned to dust and plaster. He found a little table to sit at, dropping his school supplies backpack at the foot of the chair.
"Now, what to read." The ranger mumbled to himself, reading the closet spines.
Aura and Soul related subjects. B recommended.
Ethics, because lord knows we need them. A suggestion as an alternative.
Jaune headed off in search of literature. You know, who's a good philosopher? He wondered, trying to find a starting point for his searches.
I dunno, Sun Tsu? B shrugged, not really up to date on members of philosophy.
Jaune squinted at him, pulling a book down from the shelves. I'm sorry, No? He responded. I would not go to a Warlord-general-person-thing to tell me about ethics or the soul.
Jaune eventually found some papers and collections that looked like they had promise. Taking the foot or so tall stack back to his seat, he began his quest for knowledge about morals and ethics.
No one can agree on shit, can they? B asked at about the halfway mark. Jaune growled in frustration at that fact. It seemed that everyone couldn't agree on what qualified as good morals. Between the free books infront of him, not a single one of them said the same thing.
"You're in my spot."
Jaune looked up from his books. A familiar pink braid was across the table from him. "Nadir." Jaune greeted him, before returning to his books.
Nadir paced around the table several times before finally taking a seat. He put down his own book on the history of chess. Nadir noticed the subject of Jaune's research.
"Philosophy?" he asked the ranger, who only nodded in return. Nadir opened his book, reading lines he knew by heart.
He had to read it. It was the course of each day. Just as he straightened his pencils, cleared off his desk, or folded his clothes. It happened each day, at the same time with the same process.
"Why are you reading up on philosophy?" Nadir asked after he had reached the end of his first chapter.
Jaune considered not answering him. It will be good for you. A suggestion. You need to talk to people more.
The blonde sighed, relenting to the wisdom of his figment of his imagination. Fine. I'll talk to him. He doesn't seem that bad anyway.
"I am thinking about ethics and morals." Jaune admitted, turning another page. "I suppose I have a bit of a conniption." he leaned back away from the pages.
Nadir seemed perplexed at the statement. "Oh? What kind of conniption?" the man asked. "If you don't mind, that is."
Jaune shrugged away Nadir's concern. "I am… wondering what makes an action good." Jaune had to choose his words carefully. Nadir indicated for him to continue with the rolling of his hand. The blonde had to think about it. "Well, I suppose my question is how do you quantify someone as a good person."
"Is this the classic "am I a good person?" question?" Nadir asked him. He nodded after a moment.
"Yeah. I suppose it is."
Nadir gave a short laugh as he shook his head. "Unfortunately, that is not my expertise." he said with a small smile. "You would have to ask Arslan about that question."
Jaune nodded. "And if I wanted to ask you?" he asked the pink haired Vacuan. Nadir let out a deep seeded breath. He looked back down at his book for a while.
He finally gave Jaune an answer. "I suppose doing good things is enough to be a good person. You know, just helping makes you a good person." he mused. Jaune nodded, wondering what that left him as. He had probably done some terrible things, particularly in the Dream. But did that count? If that was him dreaming, did those actions count? He supposed that they must have, because he did them.
"Why? Are you afraid that you're not a good person?" Nadir asked him. Jaune shrugged, avoiding what he feared would be the answer.
"Is the inverse true as well for you?" Jaune asked his library mate. Said library mate considered it for a moment.
"Yes, I suppose it does." He confirmed it to the blonde. Jaune hummed, returning back to his books. He would have to explore his actions and their meaning more. Nadir returned to the silence, continuing his book. They sat there in the hushed quiet of the library. Nadir stole nervous glances at the ranger, as though something heavily was weighing on his mind.
"Can I tell you something?" Nadir asked the blonde.
"You may." jaune said from the depths of his books.
"I hate feeling lonely." Nadir admitted, reaching the end of his book. It closed shut with a short thudding sound. Jaune looked up at him. That's understandable, I think. He thought. I'm rather fortunate that I was never alone.
Yeah! A cheered. You have us!
B was far more pessimistic on that matter. Yes, because literal imaginary friends in one's head is a sign of not being lonely.
Jaune felt scalded by that. Your sarcasm, while amusing, is not appreciated B. The blonde said flatly, trying to hide the heat of the truth. Maybe he did need to find some friends.
I told you so.
Not now, A. Jaune shut his figment up. We will deal with that later.
Or, maybe now? He could move towards actually forging some bonds with people, starting with Nadir.
"Does that mean to be alone, or just to feel lonely?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. Nadir took in a breath that lasted for a solid couple of seconds.
"I don't like feeling lonely." Nadir repeated. Jaune looked a little deeper at the answer, and found that there was something interesting in that statement. He recalled something he had read just a couple of minutes ago. Other people were hell, and he thought that it could work along another route.
Other people felt lonely.
"I fear that I will make for poor company then." Jaune admitted with a hum, returning to his books. It was probably a worthless endeavor, as it hadn't turned any meaningful results yet. His very brief exchange of words with Nadir had proved more fruitful anyway. Nadir shrugged as he put what Jaune assumed was homework.
"You don't feel lonely." The pink haired man commented. Jaune was surprised at that, as he knew that he wasn't all that talkative and was a little socially awkward. He had to think about how to respond to that.
Would a thank you be appropriate? He asked his tenants, asking them for their opinion.
I dunno, sure, why not? Just throw that fucker out there like candy. B recommended.
"Thank you." Jaune nodded to him. The rest of the period passed in a peaceful quiet, filled with the soft shuffling of pages and books. When it came time to leave for their next class, Jaune couldn't help but have some trepidation upon walking out the door.
Whatever the Fuck This is? Jaune mused. I wonder if I can skip it.
In a rare occurrence, both A and B were in agreement. The resounding chorus of No was enough to get jaune moving.
Most likely towards his doom, or utter chaos.
Another weekish, another chapter. I wanted to explore and develop Jaune's relationship with other people, particularly with Nadir. Their friendship will be what I think is an excellent example as to how I intend to develop Jaunes character, and how is character effects others. i will give Rheese some love later on, after the first mission, I promise. The next chapter will be a little slow, like this one. But it shows off who is probably my favorite character in this entire series. i will admit, it is going to be hard to not have Sebastian Cortez take over the story, and i would like feedback later on if you feel that he does take up to much space or not enough. I am not a perfect writer and i do try to use the feedback I get.
Also, I suppose i should add a content warning to next chapter, it talks about nihilism and the worth of human life. Not something I think should be a problem, considering the rest of this story, but fair warning. I will put up a similar warning before chap 37.
Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment, review, idea or feedback you have for the story.
P.S: Whenever Arslan refers to god or gods, it is about the Faunus, or Feral, gods and religion. That will be explained and explored fully, but that doesn't happen until a couple of chapters.