"Me thinks someone's popular," Tyrian popped the p, as if their onlookers' reactions needed accentuating.
Had any of them appeared even the slightest bit cautious of either Hazel, or especially Tyrian, I probably wouldn't have batted an eye. But they weren't looking at them. No, the people passing out into the sands and crossing ways with us were observant of me. I couldn't blame them, accounting for the fact I was an absurdity even amongst psychopaths, enough to make even Tyrian look normal.
But none stepped up to challenge our march; at worst, I received a few sickened glares, with the occasional animalistic hiss from one or two of the overtly frightened, as if barking would somehow grant them protection should I decide to kill them. Ending their lives over reasons as insignificant as their understandably offput opinions wasn't something I wanted to commit to, nor would it make any sense to do so.
Thoughts didn't matter until the thinker put them in action, so opinions of hate were, as of yet, just the repulsions of fear.
Hazel hummed, putting out the basic gist of things, more so shutting down any rogue ideas Tyrian might have been entertaining.
"So long as none of them come up for handshakes, his popularity doesn't matter."
"Ooooohhh~" The manic Faunus downright cuddled up to his larger ally, about ready to poke his cheek. "Is someone feeling jealous?"
Hazel's response was to push him off, sending Tyrian away in a top-like spin, bouncing up and down off every little dip in the sand, with each following chuckle being enough to run ice up the spines of those who heard it. The over-excitable one soon transitioned into a calm, albeit clownish stroll, exaggerating every step, doing doubly so whenever flocks of travelers passed them by. Surely the people recognised me; despite the distance time put between the Vytal Festival and now, I refused to believe Remnant had forgotten my "crimes" so soon.
These people were just too scared to call me out.
But that was for the best, because while taking them down - both lethally and not - was a simple affair, their decision to pick flight over fight guaranteed a swift trip across the dunes, which was fastly beginning to flatten out. Passing over one final hill, our few hours' travel bore fruit, and Tyrian was the first to point out our find.
"Civilization spotted stationed mere minutes away; perhaps even an hour at best." He fell into giggles befitting a grade-schooler. "I wonder how many of them there are to kill?"
"No killing." Hazel commanded, shutting down Tyrian's insane question no different than a parent telling their child they can't have sweets before dinner. "We'll be passing through soon enough; just need to check if our guest here reacts."
"But what if they come for us?!" Tyrian slapped his hands over his cheeks, looking aghast with eyes widening and zipping every which way. "We're such a divine and powerful crew; our mere presence is enough to part the winds themselves! Surely one or two of these disgusting savages will wish to rob us of our hard earned lien." Pressing a noble hand to his chest, Tyrian thus boldly proclaimed, "We must show no mercy to those willing to defile the goddess's chosen!"
"Put a pipe in it." Hazel dismissed, rolling his eyes and sighing. "If someone tries something, we're not going to just roll over and let things happen. But, that being said, there's no reason for us to upset the locals more than we have to. If we leave them be, they'll do the same to us, so let's just go through, resupply when we're done, and take off for the next town."
Upon hearing that, I knew I had to ask.
"Do we have a solid destination in mind?" Because from how they were talking, it seemed like we were wandering aimlessly. Hazel, thankfully, put that misconception to rest.
"There are a few key spots we're dashing off the list out here in the wastes. Not many points of interest this far out, but the storms have shifted the land subtly over the years. What was once accumulated deeper inwards has been rotated over the past several centuries." Hazel took a moment to pause, changing things up a bit by elaborating. "However, the underground usually stays the same. That's what we're checking out first."
"What makes the underground so special?" Did Salem discover some of the obelisks I've been finding already?
"Simple: they're few and far between. If you can't feel any of your stones out in the desert, then there's a chance they're buried deep within the caverns. For the sake of making things as simple as possible, we're going to be taking a few 'tours' around Vacuo's elaborate cave systems and get them off the list."
"And, is there anything we should be wary of?" I was not in the mood for the more violent surprises which oh so loved to visit me wherever I went.
Hazel shook his head.
"Not really." His eyes turned to the town as he began leading the trip. "Most of the caves are kept clear of Grimm, and tourists are usually corralled carefully around as to avoid potential lawsuits brought on by injury within the cave."
"Are injuries in the caverns common?"
"No," Hazel said bluntly. "But every now and then some kids or the odd thrill seeker will attempt to climb around, only to drop and break a bone or two." Spitting out a dismissive sigh, he added, "You'd think the latter would have their auras unlocked to be going at that, but that isn't really the case."
"Kur-splat!" Tyrian squeezed between us, laughing vividly. "A brand new dash of red for the runway~"
Hazel went to work ignoring his partner again, and I just carried on, spending most of my time focused on the road - or lack thereof - ahead, until we passed the line separating wasteland sand from the firm, pressed main road of the town. Most of the buildings appeared to be constructed mainly of sandstone - some variation or another - and possessed a distinct prismatic look to their structure. Some were bordering on decent sized pyramids, whereas others were octagonal and tall, although not overly huge like in Atlas.
It was no trouble telling homes from the average storefront or other businesses, as many of the less commercial places bore carvings which edged on the side of crude claw marks. However these were not the work of Grimm or beasts, but instead childish imagination, as nearly every glyph showed images of heroic battle and triumph. Depictions of multiple figures driving back Grimm, and some instances of people rallying together for one unidentifiable reason or another: all stories traded between the kids during their play. Some drawings, though, were just that of what I assumed were families, and showed nothing more than the young one's love for those they held dear.
In contrast, the trade-focused areas were adorned in swaths of threaded cloth cycling through various colors, with nearly all their written text being gold. Unable to make out what was conveyed across them, I assumed these writings to be the kingdom's language, and swiftly gave up on trying to understand them. Chances are, there were some simple translations available somewhere close by, most likely within what I assumed were the shops themselves, where ignorant travelers would feel more inclined to purchase something, as it was - at least in my original time - seen as rude to enter into a seller's abode without the intent to buy.
A smart swindling method when it came to those self-conscious about their outward appearance.
"Over here." Hazel pulled us off the main path and down a tighter road, where several of the already cautious citizens shied even further away. Some of the ones working out of stalls both standing and carpeted quickly dove off hurriedly back into differing alleyways and houses when available, but even shadowed in what they presumed was safety, they still chose to peer from within, scrutinizing every step we took...
Every step I took.
"There it is." Hazel sped up, and we came before a strange place just beyond the town's apparently short border. Before us was, to put it bluntly, a small and shabby looking archway, held up by what I assumed was a much older build of the same stone every other place used. That wasn't to say it was purely unkempt, but it was clear the focus of the hut sitting past it wasn't its outward appearance.
Despite its withered look, this spot was rife with outsiders. They were easy to spot even for the untrained eye, as none of them came even a little bit close to sharing the same widespread mistrust to our sudden entrance as everyone else up until now. Along with that, a few of what I guessed were genuine citizens of Vacuo were watching from the sidelines, just as judgemental towards the rest of the group as they were to us...
Although, when the eyes of these twin sets of people fell upon me, all went silent.
"Yo, Hold up!"
Only for Sun to pop his head from the crowd, just along the back, waving frantically with a smile.
.
.
"It should be around here somewhere..."
"You sure?" Yang's patience, while wildly unbalanced at times, seemed to hold out for the entire trip through Beacon. Sadly, stepping into the elevator within the still-being-repaired CCT only to then go down sparked some evident intrigue. Yang's potential questions went unasked, as Ozpin began searching around a chamber they hadn't even known existed. It was now, when underneath Beacon and before some technological pod in the midst of an expansive, empty corridor that Yang had had enough.
"Positive." Ozpin turned, eyes bouncing around the tall... thing, apparently in search of whatever secret lever or switch it hid. "I specifically requested-"
A small rumbling shook the ground, and walking out around, they spied the general, James Ironwood, standing up from behind the device. He dusted off his suit, smoothing out his bearings once more before elaborating as he turned towards the shoot a few steps behind him.
"You also requested it be discreet."
Ozpin hummed, playing out a single nod.
"So I did."
"Hmm..." Weiss tiptoed over to the hole, leaning over and looking down, before backing up a little. "Do we just… jump down?"
Ozpin, leading by example, wore a little smile.
"Yes."
And down he went. Out of everyone to react, Qrow was the first to step up, shrugging his shoulders as he joined the headmaster, "Well, you heard him," and hopped inside. Not one to be outdone by anyone anymore, and more than a little curious herself, Ruby let her uncle's attitude guide her and joined the pair in their decision to feed the pit.
Ruby's rump near instantly met with something - a shoot maybe? - and her drop transitioned into a slide. The smooth surface made it easy to flow downwards, and some unseen walls pushed and wrapped around, guiding her wherever the hole desired. It wasn't a very long drop, as maybe a minute or so later and she'd been picking herself up off of the ground. Nearing the end of the trip, lights began to show at the edge of what she guessed was the pipe she'd been going down, and Ruby tucked and rolled quickly to avoid peeling out across the floor.
Shaking herself back to the present, she quickly sprinted a little away, knowing full well the rest were likely close by. Her presumption proved correct when Yang tumbled out, sliding on her boots to a stop. Her older sister might have looked cool had Weiss not shot from behind and pincered the blonde with her legs accidentally, knocking them both to the floor. Out came Blake, and out came Robyn, and Clover and Penny.
And last but not least, Maria landed delicately upon the pile, none the worse for wear as she quickly got off and poked the puddle of people with her cane, mumbling something about young people being lazy.
Ruby would have giggled, had a light from behind not stretched past her, and as she turned around, Ruby laid eyes on the massive, decorative door, apparently hosting the relic: the Crown Of Choice.
"It feels so strange." Ozpin mumbled, running a hand along the ivory surface, which itself was painted in strings of gold and blue, as if the very vault shared in the divinity of its treasure. "I've not been down here for so long, but I feel I've seen it a hundred times over."
Him and her both, but Ruby kept that sneaky thought to herself.
"It's certainly more... 'decorative' than the other vaults," Ironwood commented, his voice dipping into what might be described as jealousy. Ruby genuinely held back her giggle this time, happy that her hand was strong enough to muffle any wayward squeaks. Standing before one of the most dangerous tools in existence, and the general of Atlas is annoyed by the door looking cooler than his.
"This was the first relic I had sealed away." Ozpin's voice fell into a soured hush. "It's always the first I hide."
"I can see why." Ironwood too gained that edge to his words, but the general's tone was less... experienced, so to say. He certainly understood how dangerous the Crown Of Choice could be, but he didn't really know how dangerous it was. Ruby, disturbingly, felt as though she could already feel the potential ripples it would generate, just by being in its vicinity. With the almost phantom-esque nostalgia this strong, she knew her past self had to have used the crown in some way.
Rather than carry on a conversation with his long-time friend, Ozpin looked back at her, and Ruby saw his hand extend to beckon her.
"Miss Rose, if you please?"
"What is it?" She asked, joining the trio before the vault, and feeling Ozpin take her hand. Her nerves tensed up a little as he guided it to the door, but at least he tried to calm her noticeable hesitation.
"Relax. It's nothing painful or dangerous." When her skin made contact with a small tiara painted upon the surface, wearing that same gold as the vines and trees which littered the stone tapestry, the entirety of the vault's face began to shake. "This is just some extra security."
The doors began to almost melt away into a golden liquid, quickly being absorbed by the very stone at their feet until nothing was left. Ruby might have been able to focus on that, had she not been confused on what just happened. Luckily, Ozpin came in again with the answers to her questions, right as her eyes settled on the prize ahead.
"While the other vaults open to the touch of the maidens, the crown's home is special." He began, releasing her hand. "A maiden's touch, here, would indeed open the vault, but the seeker would not find the crown so easily. Instead, they'd view an expanse of dirt road, going nowhere but back around to the vault entrance."
"You built this to respond to something else, then?" Ironwood chimed in, and Ozpin nodded.
"Exactly. This vault, perhaps the most dangerous and one which would never be opened unless of emergency, folds to conjoined energies, as I've just demonstrated."
"Mind elaborating, Oz?" Her Uncle Qrow sounded lost. "You, I get, but what about Ruby made it work?"
"Her silver eyes." An obvious answer when looking at it, but not so much to the regular seekers of the vaults. "For the crown to reveal itself, the vault needs to feel the combined touch of both my own aura, and the energy held within those possessing silver eyes."
"Sneaky," Qrow whistled. "Salem thinks they only need maidens."
"Which is precisely why I've changed up this particular vault when I constructed them. Salem learning of the maiden requirements was a given no matter how careful I was, and so I banked on forever keeping the crown at least out of reach." His confidence soon waivered. "But considering her power, I believe it possible she may, upon learning of the trick however she does, have the power to completely destroy the magic upholding the vault: overwriting it with her own desires, and thus forcing the crown to show itself."
"So not even this one's safe?" Qrow groaned, shaking his head before staring inside. "Figures."
"Then we'll be leaving once we grab the crown?" Ironwood sounded sure enough, and Ozpin confirmed.
"Of course. However, this is also the perfect place to make use of the staff; it's both private, expansive, and decently protected." Ozpin clearly began to address her, but her mind was slightly preoccupied. "Shall we, Miss Rose?"
"Yeah... Okay," Ruby mumbled, only half paying attention. She got what he asked, and agreed with it too, but the mass of her focus was stuck on the scene ahead. Unlike the other vaults, this one had no extra landscape or scenery to provide that air of peace. Before her stood a pitch black void, with a small shimmering of near invisible water just down at maybe ankle height, revealed only by the glow from the outside where they peered in, and the glow of the prize itself.
That prize being the Crown Of Choice, standing along atop its equally black pedestal.
Author's note
...
Alright, so we're still moving. Note, I did say we were coming close to the end of this story, and I mean that. Just putting this out there when things begin to seriously roll.
V returns, teamed up with both Hazel and Tyrian still, although it seems Sun is here too. Those of you who remember should be able to tell where our little crew is headed. The desert sands shift, but some things always remain.
Back with RWBY, the group has come before the Crown Of Choice, and are about to summon Ambrosius too; exciting stuff!
I don't really have much to add this time, so I'm leaving it here.
Until next time.
