"I fucked up." Jaune started, owing up to his mistake. Pretending as if his blood hadn't frozen over and thawed more times that he could count ever since they had 'woken' up and his team had begun sharing what had happened. "I got arrogant. Thinking that I had everything under control. And didn't stop and question-"
"We all fucked up." Ren butted in. Crossing his arms and leaning back on his kitchen chair. Fingers twitchily digging into his arm. "We all saw the red flags. We all knew it was a bad idea. None of us took a moment to stop and think. Let's not go around assigning blame, we all forfeited that right when we didn't speak up."
"Still…" Jaune tried, sighing heavily when he didn't find what to say. Still struggling with getting the drowsiness out of his system. Physically he might be in top condition, but the Queen's lullaby wasn't a spell that targeted his body. His mind felt groggy, if he didn't force himself to stay awake, he would rest his eyes for five minutes and open his eyes till tomorrow.
"How are you feeling Pyrrha?" Nora asked, scooting her kitchen chair over to Ren and leaning her head on his shoulder. "With, you know, Amber gone and all that."
"Better." Pyrrha exhaled, bags under her eyes as she brought her knees up to her chest. A freeness she had lacked five minutes ago shining from the very depts of her being. The gentle smile on her face making everything worth it. It didn't take the worry in her eyes away, but Jaune knew they couldn't have everything.
He didn't know what they had seen, but he could take one wild guess. Even if it was imaginary, Yharnam touched everyone who sat foot inside. It might have been his dream, but a taint clung to them. 'It will wash away soon.' Jaune knew. That didn't make the guilt he felt any lighter. He had promised himself that he would keep them safe from Yharnam's clutches. The accursed city was one straight line from bad to worse to nightmares. While he would like to pretend otherwise, he wasn't blind to the subtle glances they shared. Knowing it was only a moment before they brought up the topic.
'Thankfully Violet's still sleeping.' A single golden firefly dancing around her. While he was a bit worried, they had only been 'asleep' for five minutes max. It felt like he had slept for days on end, but that was only because of the Queen's spell. On the other hand, even if it was five minutes, large dark bags were around everyone's eyes. 'A cost? Moving in the dream is tiresome in the real world?' Hiding a yawn behind his hand, he mentally noted it down before thinking on something else.
Running his thumb over the locket seared into his hand, he felt it heat up. It wasn't scorching, just a simple warmth, a familiar warmth alike someone holding his hand. With some semblance of acknowledgement felt from the warmth. He could feel it, even if it was faint, blanketed under the warmth. He didn't remember much of his dream beside the queen's lullaby, but he remembers a song. 'Hymn.' He corrected in his mind.
Even now, he still heard it. Softly whispered prayers echoing in his ears. Too far away for him to even begin making sense of the words, but so close he had to focus through the noise to hear anything else. 'Not yet', he swore to himself mentally. He already had far too much on his plate, he coulndt go around on treasure hunts trying to make sense of a hymn.
"Tonight is going to suck anyway." He muttered, knowing that he didn't have time to retailor the fortification ritual. Unfortunately, it was simple math. The more fortified the amulet was, the stronger it's bindings would be. And the stronger it's bindings, the harder it would be for the Queen to influence him. He wasn't looking forward to jamming blood stone shards into his palm, but desperate times called for desperate measures. 'If she could already influence me so easily, what about the funeral? Could she have pushed me to gloss over faults, or have she pushed me down unneeded rabbit holes?'
It was terrifying, knowing the devil on his shoulder so easily could enchant him. 'And I who thought myself safe.' Jaune chuckled to himself self-deceptively. The shame burned.
"Jaune." Pyrrha called out, fighting through a yawn herself as she stared at him. Blinking away his own lethargy, he gave her a raised eyebrow. Having to fight back a sigh of his own when he saw the look in her eyes. Pyrrha opened her mouth, swallowing and licking her lips when she didn't find what she wanted to say. Sharing a glare with Ren and Nora before turning to look at him. "We saw you die."
"And?" Jaune replied with a raised eyebrow. Trying and failing to hide the apathy from his voice. Only recognising that he said something wrong when Pyrrha winched. Had it been another day, Jaune would have instantly switched gears. But he was tired, hiding another yawn in his hand. Apathy was just so easy. So familiar. "Didn't I tell you about it earlier? That I died multiple times and all that?"
"You did." Ren diplomatically cut of both of them before they could say something sharp. Amber flames appearing around her eye as tears welled up. "But there is a difference between being told and witnessing. We care for you. It's not easy seeing someone you care for be brutally murdered in front of you."
"I won't apologise for something I have no control about." Jaune snarked. Rolling his eyes at his best friend. "You shouldn't have seen that." He continued, guilt burning like coals in his stomach. The bitter taste of failure was on his tongue. The less people that knew about Yharnam the better. And he rather his friends know about the city, instead of experiencing it's horrors first hand. 'But they had. And it is my fault. I shou-'
"Maybe." Ren hummed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking over at them. "We all saw sides we never should have. Just like you have things you hate to bring up, so do I. It was much more… intimate than I think any of us expected"
"Huh? Wait what?" Nora asked. Staring at them as if she coulndt believe her eyes. "You are some of the smartest people I know. But how can you be so selectively dumb?" She asked in disbelief. "I mean, what about connecting our minds to walk through dreams didn't light the bulb that maybe not all dreams would be pretty. Jaune's excluded, that's a nightmare."
"Now, looking at it in hindsight…" A light dusting of pink covered Ren's cheeks. Pyrrha coughed into her hand.
"I mean… don't it just bring us closer?" She continued; her earlier fire gone. Nervously twiddling her thumbs and looking at everything but them. "We already knew everything we saw, didn't we?" Nora whispered. "We just got… another perspective."
"You are not wrong. It's just…" Jaune sighed, clacking his mouth shut when he didn't find anything to say. Yharnam was Yharnam. He wasn't blind, he knew he had a more than a little toxic relationship with the city. But Yharnam was his problem. The city already took and took. No matter how good their intentions, he would never let Yharnam steal the twinkling light in their eyes. 'Like it stole from me.'
"We all have moments we don't want to share." Ren finished for him. "Some more than others." He added at the end. Jaune nodding slightly, feeling the conversation box him in. Scratching his neck, he looked around. His right eyebrow twitching erratically.
"This was a mistake." He muttered under his breath, downing what was left of his water and decisively marching over to Violet. Ever so carefully prying her out of bed, before gently carrying her over to her bed and tucking her in. Pretending as if he didn't feel the way his team stared at his backs.
He was holding a ball of glass shards in his hands, and he coulndt let it go. The shads cut deep, and the ball grew heavier every day, but he coulndt let it go. Even when he knew on a conscious level that he should. The pain was familiar, and it dampened the fear. It was safe. It was familiar. And it bought some sense of solace he had tough he would never get back.
He barely recognised himself when he looked in the mirror. Vomit Boy was a completely different person. A person he could never be again. But more than anything, he was afraid of who he would be if he let it go.
Shoving his bed back to where it belonged, he climbed under the covers. He was going to sleep, go to the dream, fortify his amulet, check if the Queen did anything else. And then he would plan his next move.
"Go away." Jaune mumbled when he felt a finger poke his cheek. Hearing Nora giggle, he shot an eye wide open. All too used to sisters who thought it would be fun to draw on his face when he slept. In an instant his budding frustration mellowed out as he saw Violet crawl out of her bed and wipe away the sleep in her eyes as she walked over to him. Crawling into his side when he held open the covers. The golden firefly dancing around her head. Landing on her nose after she rested her head against his chest.
Curiously, he gently reached towards the firefly. The golden glimmer twinkling slightly before flying over to his finger. An echo of something whispered in his ears. 'A warning.' He knew, already feeling the miasma rising from his blade. A rumble growled in his throat as the Queen reached for him.
"Was my mind interesting to rumble through?" He snarked, ignoring how Nora blinked at him as he ignored her. Knowing she coulndt understand the language they spoke in. "Did you find what you wanted? Hate to break it to you, but I'm not affiliated with the Church and it's executioners. You may not be deserving of mercy, but your people were innocent. No matter how much you look, you will never find what you want."
"You are Vicar." The Queen whispered in his ear. Saying the word as curse and tittle as miasma crept out from his sword. It was weaker, scattered in a way. As if something had come and taken a large bite from it. "Like it or not, despise it or not, but you are Vicar. You are the church. As I am Queen. Cainhurst isn't a castle, it is where I am. I am Cainhurst. You might think the title nothing but empty air, but it is to you your flock pray. It may be your doing that keep me sealed, but it's not your power that keeps me shackled." A haughty laugh rang in his ear as she continued. "But I must say, the irony of the situation isn't lost on me. The last Vicar, nothing but a beast in the shape of a man. The church's ambition realised in the cruellest of twists. Not lifting humanity to the stars but dragging us down into the mud and blood like pigs for slaughter."
"Why do you call me the last vicar?" Jaune asked curiously, even if on some conscious level that the queen was nothing but bad news. That didn't take away from the fact that she had had multiple lifetimes to learn and further refine her craft. Her words may be meant to hurt, to discourage, and to rattle his house of cards. But it was a game both could play. The more he could get her to share, even if the knowledge was wrong, all she shared was putting him one step closer to figuring out what she wanted.
"For you are the last Vicar." The Queen chuckled in his ear, voice echoing like pearls. Her voice gentle as a tendril of miasma gently ran over his cheek. "The Choir and The Church are two separate institutions, no matter what one may think otherwise. The Choir may be compromised of the Church's higher officials, but it is not to them it's believers go to in troubled times, that is the Church and it's clerics. Your predecessor, shortsighted and blinded as he was, was both a visionary and a fool. The schism was already there when the church was founded, yet Laurance, as much as I may despise him was more than a mere man. People flocked to his banner. It was not his pretty words that drew them in, even if they undoubtedly drew in someone, neither was it his appearance, for he was neither a good-looking man nor an ugly man. He was a man. A man with the future in his eyes, and the presence to make others march beside him towards what he envisioned. A future now tainted and marred with blood, innocent or not. For without the man larger than life, his dream became the playground for petty men."
"For someone who is the direct cause of so much of Cainhurst's decline, you have an odd sense of respect for him." Jaune hummed. Gently running circles around Violet's back as she stirred. Lulling her back into sleep. Moving one arm behind his head, he stared at the roof. Mind working overtime as he puzzled through the Queen's words. His spirituality constantly churning as his ability to deduce kicked into overdrive. Pointing out subtle clues, hints, and traps in her words. Almost not even noticing how intertwined the 'ability' had become. It was part of him, what lines had separated it and him long since blurred until both had merged into just another part of him.
"Laurance… for as much as I may despise him, it is impossible to not respect the man capable of swaying all of Yharnam to his side in under five years. I despise his deeds, disagree with what he stands for, laugh at seeing his dream and aspirations trampled on upon lesser men. Yet, Laurance…" The Queen stopped, the miasma shuddering and twisting into unnatural shapes.
"And yet, even when he has been gone for who knows how many years, you aren't able to get him out of your mind." Jaune snarked. Catching his sword as it came flying out of its sheath. Thick miasma rolling around the blade. His wrist split up, pinkish blood came seeping out, transforming and braiding itself into golden chains that snaked down around the blade. The miasma being pulled in with each chain, until the only miasma left on Crocea Mors blade was deep black spots dancing over the steel before also disappearing.
"Don't ignore me Jaune." Nora said, still sitting on the edge of his bed. Poking her finger against his cheek with each word. "Who were you talking with? Why did your sword suddenly fly?"
"A bad idea made manifest. And because it is good for my heart to piss of said bad idea." Jaune answered. Not really sure what he wanted. Or even what he felt. The last time something had happened inside the team instantly coming to mind. Yet, the taste of failure, the frustration he felt for letting down his guard for a split second, the hollow vindictiveness he felt for managing to push her in her weakened state, it all mixed into a soup of emotions he didn't want to feel.
Closing his eyes, he hoped having some extra hours to sort out what he felt would be helpful. It was petty, it was childish, and as he felt Nora continuing poking him in the cheek as he slipped into slumber, he knew it would come back to bite him. 'Hopefully sleeping on what they saw won't turn tomorrow into a screaming match.'
#-#-#-#
The dream was quiet. The moon flowers didn't bloom, instead retreating into themselves. The forest outside the fence was quiet, an invisible wind sailed through leaving rustling leaves and dead silence in its wake. The young Queens were scattered around the dream. Their eyes following him, even if they kept their distance. Not daring to approach. The only one who didn't share in their fear being Violet, who already was snoozing beside the fireplace, the doll who curtsied as he walked on by, Elizabeth that floated behind him, and Gehrman that followed following him with a cloudy gaze.
The second he was inside the workshop proper he threw his coat on a chair. Opening his cache and pulling out sixteen blood stone shards and sixteen twin blood stone shards. Looking into his chest, he swallowed down what guilt he felt. Aurora was dead, she didn't have need for the stones in the afterlife. And he needed to fortify the locket yesterday.
He didn't have time to head down into the catacombs to search for stones he could use, not when there was a convenient stash right there.
"Still, the transmutation ritual was the best thing I ever have made." Jaune mumbled to himself as he started setting up for the fortification ritual. Knowing he wouldn't have had the same amount of twins tone shards if not for that. He had some blood stone chunks as well, but they were too expensive to reliably produce. Three blood stone shards made one twin stone shard. Three twin stone shards made one blood stone chunks. And the first fortification with chunks took three. There was only so far he could brute force his resources to 'evolve' higher, before his cache ran dry. Something it already mostly was. Without the time to explore the catacombs, he didn't have a reliable way to fill up his rapidly dwindling supply.
While his blood shards were dwindling, he thankfully still had not touched his potion and ritual regents. So he had that going for him.
'And even then, I'm unsure if the next 'layer' will hold as many blood stone shards.' Jaune thought to himself, taking of his gloves and rolling a blood stone shard in his fingers. The stick of crystalised blood shining in the firelight, the twisting helix in the middle moving as if almost alive. He coulndt say how they formed, even if he had a guess for one method. 'It may be a coincidence, but I don't think it's impossible to reason that the fire hound had some part to play.'
A long sigh left him, before his hesitation could get a hold of him he jabbed the shard down. The blunt bottom of the shard piercing into his hand as if his skin wasn't even there. Blinking at his hand, the pain he expected to come didn't slam into him. Instead only a weird numbness spread through his hand. Quickly inserting two other shards into his palm. A shuddering breath left him as he activated the ritual.
His knees giving out under him instantly. Pain on a level he hadn't felt in a long time slammed into him with full force. Knocking the air out of his lungs.
The pain disappeared just as quickly as it came. His hand shooting out to catch himself against the workbench before he completely fell.
Taking a moment, he snapped his fingers and casted the save state spell. Paging to his newest record, sharp eyes scanning the pages as he tried to make sense of the more convoluted data.
"Have you gone mad lad?" Gehrman asked, wheeling himself into the workshop.
"Not mad, desperate." Jaune replied simply. Never taking his eyes away from his journal as he held up his blade with his dominant hand. Not trusting himself to be able to hold something with his left. The firelight danced over the blade, golden chains creeping down the guard as he drew her from her sheath. It wasn't large, almost invisible to the naked eye. However a single hairline fracture decorated the blade. Thinner than a strand of hair and shorter than a single centimetre.
It was what it implied that sent chills down his spine. Jaune coulndt remember if the hairline fracture had been there before they 'slept' or if it was something that had appeared after. But it forced a deadline onto him. For if one crack could form, then so could two, then three, and before he knew it, his partner would fall apart in his hands.
'Was that what she wanted? To weaken her prison?' He frowned at the thought. On one hand it held merit, the weaker Crocea Mors, the more chances she would have for slipping out. On the other hand it felt too simple. From his interactions with her, he always got the impression that the Queen was a schemer. He didn't believe for a second that this wasn't Plan C. Someone on her level didn't simply have one plan, but had a dozen plans that all worked towards one nebulous goal. Even if some failed, it didn't necessarily mean she hadn't gained something.
And what something she had gained put him on edge. It felt as if he was dancing to an invisible tune. Yet, it was also the only path forward that gave him some form of fighting chance. With another snap of his fingers he cast another spell. The magic washed over him without a sound. Forcing a sharp intake of air as he felt nothing.
The cognitive purge ritual wasn't without fault. It only targeted active effects that messes with the mind. It was the reason it could hit Amber. 'Did she place some sort of mental trigger? Change my memories? Place a suggestion or lay the groundwork for other types of control.' Jaune thought.
Forcing another blood stone shard into his hand, he forced himself not to jump down the rabbit hole. Instead he looked at the locket as he inserted four other shards into his palm. The gold was golder for lack of proper words. Free from tarnish, blood, and hand chum. Even the way the flesh and metal melded together was different. Instead of angry strips of flesh that held the locket in place. It looked almost like he was born with the locket in his palm. 'Or on the way.' He added, not missing some remaining angry veins around the locket or how the insignia still looked like it had been drawn by a knife.
The pain crashed into him again, burning as the flesh on his hand bubbled and churned. The locked burying itself deeper into his hand. It's gold becoming even more golden as it changed. This time he knew the pain was coming, allowing him to brace for it and take it without buckling.
Breathing shakily, he quickly pushed the last blood stone shards into his hand. Snapping his fingers, he cast the save state spell before the pain slammed into him. Not making a single sound even when he saw white.
"There's a thin line between desperation and madness." Gehrman called out, his cane shooting out to strike at his wrist when he reached for the twin stone shards. "And what you are doing is bordering on the latter."
"I know." Jaune breathed out. Voice rough from the pain he had subjected himself to. "I know." He whispered again, not missing how Gherman's cloudy eyes stared into his own. "It's just… I need…"
"Stop." Gehrman cut him off. "I don't know what you did. Something idiotic no doubt. But take a breath, centre yourself. Your emotions are all over the place. And then explain. You can be making a mountain out of a mole hill. Share what you are working yourself up about. You being my protégé doesn't mean I just am to teach you. It's an apprenticeship. You are to come to me when you stumble onto something you don't understand so I can help you through what you face. And as your mentor, it's my duty to stop you when you are spiralling. Something you clearly are." Gehrman let the words hang in the air as he sighed. "You are not the first person I have met who throw themselves into work with reckless abandon when they are overwhelmed. So lad, what happened?"
Jaune started at Gehrman. Frustration burst into anger as he glared into the old man's unforgiving eyes. Finding no compromise. Gritting his teeth, he did as instructed. Taking a deep breath, he held it before exhaling. Taking out his pipe, he poured in herb mixture twenty-five before lighting it up and taking a drag. The taste was pleasant, the anxiety relieving effect even more so. Unfortunately, as much as he would have liked it, it didn't magic away the stress, anxiety and the mountain of shit he felt. Instead they were muted. There, felt, acknowledged, but giving him breathing room.
"I 'killed' the Queen of Cainhurst and sealed her soul into my blade. But she must have influenced me somehow as when my team and I did a shared 'dream walk' she was able to join. I don't know what she did, but she had me under some sort of enchantment for the entire process. Having me dreaming inside a dream." Jaune said, the words coming falling out as a waterfall when he first began.
Gehrman didn't butt in or cut him off, only scratching the stumble along his chin as he hummed to himself. A long-suffering sigh escaping him after he was done. "You don't do things in half measures, do you?" Rubbing his eyes in frustration. "Honestly, I didn't know what I was expecting with you. What's next? Don't tell me you managed to get one of your ghosts friends pregnant?" Holding up a hand, Gehrman silenced both his and Elizabeht's outcry with a single glare. "No. Don't. I don't want to know. What you do in your free time is none of my business."
"I don't think it's possib-" Jaune started, before trailing off. Some ideas instantly springing to life. Taking another drag from his pipe with a huff.
"Please spare me the details." Gehrman rolled his eyes. "Instead, let's go over the situation. Start at the worst possible situation you can think of and let's make our way down the three."
"Well… Worst possible situation? That depends." Jaune hummed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the workshop table. "Depends on what aspect's the Queen is most proficient in, and what 'fuel' she can get her hands on."
"And what is this so called 'fuel'?" Gehrman asked with innocent curiosity. The old man must have noticed his confusion as he rolled his eyes before explaining. "Don't look so surprised lad. I am versed in the Arcane. Far from being able to claim illustrious titles such as Scholar or Master. But I know the basics. Your magic, what you have discovered on your own and what blood magic those at Cainhurst worship is foreign to me. I have gotten the gist of 'aspects', and while I have an idea what 'fuel' is., I do have some ideas. But better you clarify, so I don't make any wrong assumptions. None want faulty advice, after all."
"Life, then blood and flesh are the two simplest. However that is not something she is able to sacrifice… unless she can somehow manipulate the act of me taking life with my sword as her sacrifice." Jaune started, sheathing his blade again and letting new golden chains come sprouting from his wrist. "It's possible, but that can be mitigated by me using another weapon temporarily."
"Good. Now you are thinking properly." Gehrman nodded, lips quirking upward. "Learning to use a new weapon might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but it's a small cost in comparison. Deny your foe every opportunity to grow stronger."
"The then there are the mental sacrifices. A sense, an emotion, a memory. I'm unsure she can sacrifice the miasma Crocea Mors have gathered, but it is another source of fuel to be aware of. And lastly there is…" Jaune blinked as realisation slowly dawned over him. Taking a deep drag of his pipe, he coulndt help but exclaim. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"
"Sacrifices of awakening may be cheap, free even, but the power one can draw from them are limited." Elizabeth chimed as she floated down beside him.
"No, not that." Jaune replied quickly. "Soul. The dream walk was a success. Pyrrha doesn't have Amber's soul stuck in her body anymore. But where did it go? Did you and the girls notice something? Did she pass on? Did something else happen?"
"Amber never passed on." Elizabeth answered him. Brining him the worst possible news and making his fear come true.
"What?" Jaune asked, taking a deep drag. Not trusting himself. "What do you mean she didn't pass on?" He continued, feeling the world tilting. One little terrifying idea appearing in the back of his mind. 'What if there was another reason to the Queen's apparent weakness?'
In a rush of panic, he drew his sword. Holding Crocea Mors up before his eyes and pushing his spirit vision to look inside the blade. He had never examined his partner like this, something he should have done in hindsight. Thick and potent black miasma flowed 'inside' the sword. Full of malice, and born of pain, death, anger, hate, bloodlust and wickedness. Looking through the thick clouds, echoes of fallen foes stared back. Screaming soundlessly at him as they tried to rush at him.
Yet, there were something else there. Hidden inside his partner. Draped in blood and carrying a mantle of malice, reaching out to him with the innocent longing of a child. Taking a branching breath, he surged his spirituality and aura into the sword. In an instant a presence radiated from his partner. Clouds of miasma came floating out from the guard. Dancing around the blade as it sank down again. Crocea Mors's steel taking on a sinister edge.
Memories and emotions not his own bombarded him. While not as complex as a human, that didn't take away from their strength in the slightest. Flashes of multiple battlefields flashed through his mind followed by blood, steel, fire and explosions. Then came nothing, the emptiness of a weapon made for war being hanged up on the wall. A quiet longing that was broken when a boy with eyes full of dreams came and picked her down in the middle of the night. Then came memories of blood. Of slaughter. Of purpose. Of loyalty. For no one else was worthy of wielding her.
'Love you to partner.' He tried to convey through his spirituality. A soft metallic keening sound rang through the workshop as Crocea Mors replied in kind. 'But I need you to lead me to the Queen. Think you can do that?'
Something gentle and warm reached out for his spirituality, holding onto it before diving even 'deeper' into his partners physical form. Until they were 'there'. Cradled by malice and hidden in the deepest nooks of Crocea Mors metaphysical interior, were two souls. One wounded, fragmented and infinitely weaker than the other. A gentle melody echoed in his ears. Washing over his spirituality as the world tilted on its axis. His arms felt like lead while his mind was smothered under gentle clouds that made his staying awake feel impossible.
Gehrman's cane hit him on the wrist, jolting him awake and forcing away the supernatural tiredness he felt.
"This is bad. Real bad." He mumbled, forcing himself to take a deep drag from his pipe to keep the panic at bay. "That's why she is breaking." He realised, running a finger over the hairline fracture. "She can seal one soul, but two is one to many."
"Lad, take a step back. What is bad. And how bad are we talking?" Gehrman asked.
"Honestly. Again. That depends." Jaune trailed off as he racked his brain. Forcing himself to stay calm. "Far worse than expected, but also… It all depends on what aspects the Queen is proficient it. At the same time, only a few rituals can withstand and properly channel the power a soul sacrifice generates. Everyone will feel something happening however. Even those unattuned or unversed in the arcane will feel something." Taking a moment to breathe, he shared his worries further. "I'm a bit scared that this might be a red herring. However even if it isn't… something must be done."
"Sacrificing a soul… Truly." Gehrman mumbled to himself. "I will not lecture you on this, lad. However I will warn you against following in her steps. The moral failing of my generation runs deep. Don't be in a rush to surpass us in the worst possible way."
Jaune nodded, not missing how his mentor looked ready to say more but chose to be silent instead. Only gently shaking his head. His knuckles turning white as he griped his cane.
"As for what aspects the Queen is proficient in. I have some guesses." Jaune said, choosing to bring up another topic instead. "Corruption. She brought me here after all."
"Invocation." Elizabeth chimed in, floating closer, even if she stayed clear of Crocea Mors. Her deathly place face somehow looking even paler.
"She may be proficient in them, but they need… more than just fuel." Jaune eventually settled on. Eliciting a nod from Elizabeth. The spectre floating down to come to his level.
"You are not completely wrong, not exactly right either, but not wrong." Elizabeth hummed. Her single eye glancing over him as he puffed on his pipe. He wasn't sure what sort of rise she wanted to get out of him by her comment. Rolling her eyes when he wouldn't bite, she continued. "Substitutes can be used in most rituals. Depending on what the substitute is, the ritual may not even function properly. On the other hand…"
"Miasma serves as the perfect substitute for Usurpation." Jaune finished for her. Having to stop the long-suffering groan from escaping him. No wonder she had seemed so 'agreeing'. He had basically plopped her into her a prison filled with weapons. 'And had been none the wiser.'
"If there is one caveat. Then it is that most stronger Usurpation rituals have long and complex casting processes. And the preparation phases are on the longer side." Elizabeth added.
Jaune rolled his eyes at her. He didn't know if there were some secret rivalries between the aspects, but even if there were, it mattered little to him. He wasn't part of Cainhurst culture, never would be, and never wanted to be. What mattered was that he had time.
And if he had time, he could prepare.
'Now. How do you handle the psychopathic hundred-year-old immortal ghost forcefully sealed into a blade that absolutely hated his guts?' He was sure he could add in some more adjectives, body hopping, cradle robber, both popping into mind instantly. But as much as bad mouthing the queen mentally was cathartic, it did little for the situation at hand.
"What void rituals are you aware exists inside Cainhurst?" Jaune demanded, as much as he would loathe to do something against Elizabeth. Having grown somewhat fond of the standoffish spirit. He would resort to other methods if she didn't give him what he needed. Just as there was a time for kindness and mercy, there were times for ruthlessness.
"There is one ritual of that calibre I'm privy to." Elizabeth started, staring at him before continuing. "Divine Law. It creates a taboo over a targeted area that can't be broken. Be it, you cannot harm the Queen, all hunter's serve the reigning monarch, and so forth. No matter what the law is, inside the targeted area it cannot be broken. Unintentional or not. The law is divine for lack of better term."
"Could be worse." Jaune muttered. Far from ideal, but it could be worse. "I know of one such ritual myself." He shared, having no reason to hide the knowledge the umbilical cord all those weeks ago had given him. He had long since digested most, if not all of the knowledge. "Figure in the mirror. It creates a fully formed sapient mind out of nothing. Anything serves as proper target. I don't know what she is planning, but I don't like it."
"You have an idea of what she is planning?" Gherman hummed.
"An inkling." Jaune nodded. "If they can't see eye to eye, make them. That's the philosophy of Usurpation at least."
"Then do you have a plan?" Gherman asked with a raised brow.
At his mentor's question, Jaune had no answer. His mind whirled with ideas, but everyone came up short. While he knew what he needed to do, it was the how that stumped him. 'Hold a purification ritual for Crocea Mors to remove the miasma? But that won't solve the pressure of two souls on Crocea. Remove Amber? But how? I know what to do with the Queen, I just haven't finished the ritual.'
Humming to himself, his eyes darted around the workshop for inspiration. Both Gherman and Elizabeth weren't out of the equation. But it was clear that Gherman, even if he had an answer, would never share it. The old man as usual pushed and guided him to come up with a solution on his own. Elizabeth, while she wanted the Queen gone, also had her own plans. The shimer in her eyes never having stopped when he spoke of the Figure in the Mirror ritual.
'The Doll?' He wondered, not missing how she suddenly stepped out of nothing by the side entrance. 'Maybe?' The thought lingered before his eyes before his eyes wandered to the altar. 'That's an idea. A stupid one. An idiotic one. It's going to stomp over my remaining morals. But removing Amber…' "is going to solve the largest problem…"
"You have an idea, do you lad?" Gehrman asked with a raised brow.
"A stupid one." Jaune nodded. "Maybe not the best in the long run, but it solves the problem now. If I hesitate to long… well, let's just say I won't have a future to worry about. It's a stupid gambit."
"A desperate one at that." Gherman mumbled, something flickering in his cloudy eyes as he leaned back. Opening his mouth, noting came out. Not a sharp jab, not a little titbit of wisdom, not a warning, just a long-suffering sigh. For maybe the first time, Gehrman looked his age. Old. "I have been there myself. Just… beware that there will be consequences." His mentor eventually managed to bring out. "There always are."
"I can worry about the consequences later." Jaune said, gritting his teeth as he got up. Ignoring how the rational part of him screamed it was a horrible idea. Cleansing Crocea Mors of the miasma she caried sounded better by the moment. Yet, it only solved one problem. Even if his partner was suddenly free from the miasma, Amber and the Queen would still be sealed inside her. Having two souls were already straining. Running a finger down his blade, another two hairline fractures had appeared without him none the wiser. And that was with Amber 'asleep'. He didn't take for a second that his partner could withstand two angry souls fighting. 'Or what else it is that angry souls do against each other.'
"I'm so going to regret this tomorrow." He sighed, stretching out a kink that wasn't there in his back. "Elizabeth, please give me some room. Doll, would you be so kind as to bring Violet outside? And Gherman, would you be so kind as to give me some space?"
Invocation was one of those aspects he had sworn never to use. 'But look how little it takes for my promises to mean nothing.' Jaune though to himself with a self- deprecating smile. All it took for his values to come crashing down was a mad queen pushing him into the corner.
The workshop shock as the doors magically closed themselves. Invisible forces sealing him inside the workshop and giving him the privacy he needed.
Idly he pushed the last eight blood stone shards into his palm. Not even feeling pain when he fortified the locket for the third time. His hand burned, flesh bubbled, and blood came out of the holes and transformed into golden chains that dove straight back into his palm. The second magic of the ritual had done it's part, he stabbed three twin blood shards into his palm. Tasting blood on his tongue when he further fortified the locket.
It was his contingency plan. As his blood boiled, and as the gold fused further with his flesh, he wondered if he was making a mistake. Crushing the hesitation, he stabbed five twin shards into his palm. Casting the save state spell moments before the magic sprung to life. Flesh and skin bubbled and stretched, golden chains slithered freely, wrapping themselves around bone and dug down and into the marrow.
'I hope this is worth it.' The thought came and went in the span it took for him to impale the last eight twin stone shards into his palm. A groan escaped from his throat as the familiar fire burned even hotter. Flesh sizzled and popped as red-hot gold swam through his palm. Magically leaving no scaring wherever it passed. Passing through skin, muscles and tendons as if it was part of him.
The second the magic was over he sprang into action. Beautiful golden chains with intricate patters shot out from his hand and wrapped around his partner. Each chain ring seemingly made from a master goldsmith. No larger than the nail on his pinkie but engraved with more inscriptions than ancient temples. In under a second his partner was wrapped in silken gold.
"I hope this works." Ever so gently he made his way over to the altar. Laying his sword down on it as he cut his wrist and began filling three goblets. Taking out five candles and placing them over the alter. For the last step, he went to his cache and pulled out seven vials filled with eyes. A souvenir from Hemwick that he never thought he would ever use.
"You know, it isn't to late." Jaune said to no one in particular. Knowing that the Queen heard him. "Just let Amber pass on, and we can pretend this never happened." He lied as easily as he breathed.
Crocea Mors lied silently on the altar.
"Shame." Jaune sighed. He wasn't sure if The Dream would also accept the Queen, but Amber didn't deserve this. Opening the canisters, the seven eyes came floating out. Circling him, before handing as a halo over the altar.
"Oh, Flora of the Moon. Mother of The Dream."
#-#-#-#
Qrow was bored. There was no other way of putting it. Transformed into a bird and peeking through the window, he felt like the worlds largest voyeur. He coulndt even drink for the off chance that they decided to do something dumb.
'Honestly those kids. Would it hurt them to live a little?' He groaned, tweeting as he looked thought their window. Red and pink sat by the kitchen table talking, while the orange top was busy poking the cheek of Taiyang jr. The boy was dead to the world, with the little kid using him as a pillow. It was cute, brought back memories of when Yang and Ruby was little.
Part of him was glad they weren't stupid. The only thing he knew about Nikkos was from the media and their disaster of a mission. 'It's good that her team all had some semblance of common sense.'
A shiver raced down his spine. On instinct he looked up, more than ready to show other birds he wasn't prey if he needed, only to be met with a blood red moon. The cracked moon shone red, then in a blink of an eye the red was gone.
'What was that?' He thought with a frown. Knowing he would have heard about it if a blood moon or eclipse was about to happen.
Shrugging his feathery shoulders, Qrow got back to peeking into their room. 'Sure hope this is the last time Ozpin have me doing anything voyeuristic. I know they have cameras around the school.'
#-#-#-#
Note: I have to take an exam again this winter before I can graduate. And rl takes priority over writing. It's one of the reasons the little windfall of chapters in august. I'm not dropping the fic, just shifting my focus elsewhere. I'm not announcing hiatus, but chapters will be fewer and further between.
Note: Jaune isn't healthy. Not mentally at least.
Note: The watchdog being the reason for all the 'first' grade upgrade material is mostly a in universe way to explain away all the resources that seemingly exists in the dungeons. However, each dungeon and each floor will have its own loot. The shards together with the transmutation ritual is/was just a quick way to boost his damage without pumping stats.
Note: Crocea Mors was a Righteous Weapon once upon a time.
Note: And Jaune's slippery slope continues.