It was an angry and frustrated Jaune that leaned against the stone pillar. Gasping for air, he used the edge of scrape away the charred bits that was all that remained of his left arm. Fiery spikes of pain shooting through him as bits and pieces of fleshy charcoal landed onto the ground.
Flames licked at his boots and up his pants, trying, but never quite reaching the hem of his coat. The smoke hung heavy, clogging us his nose and making it hard to see.
"Infidel." A hoarse throaty rasp scratched through the chamber. Voice smouldering with hate. By his feet laid a disfigured skull. Eight burning glints staring up at him with fury. Tongues of fire escaping from the skull's eyes. Ash and charred metal twisted around it's skull, behind it laid a large brimmed hat. Seemingly made of still smouldering ash.
"I see you, infidel." The skull rasped. Fire sprouting from its mouth with every breath it took. Of to the side, Jaune idly noticed the skeletons broken body move. A burning hand clawing at the stone floor as it dragged itself towards him. The legs laid sprawled out, leaking puttering bloody magma. Being what remained of its torso. Magma, boiling and charred organs were splattered everywhere. Some having landed in held braziers, others were impaled on the chandeliers or had simply turned to bits in the explosion.
"You cannot kill me. Not in any way that matters!" The skull rasped in cackling laughter. Burning slits glowing brighter. "Death is not the end. I know your face. I know your name. My sisters and I will delight in tearing you limb from limb, piece by piece. This tomb of my master's that you so readily defile. You too shall join them in eternal slumber."
Taking a deep breath, Jaune slammed down a blood vial. Closing his eyes, brows furrowing. With a little twingle of his spirituality he called upon his panacea spell. His shoulder bulged and churned, before a grotesque mass of muscles, bone and sinew shot out. With a heavy thud his hand, or what should be his hand, slammed into the floor. Finger's like claws, nails like talons, muscles, joints and bone knitted over each other in a grotesque meshwork of throbbing flesh.
With another deep breath, he called upon another spell. An invisible shudder raced through his body. Waves ran down the grotesque misshapen arm. Pulsing in tune with his heart. Then like a liquid, the flesh began to move. Muscles slithering like worms. Bones snapping, healing, and straightening out. Clenching his fist, the golden amulet appeared into the palm of his now human hand. The only remainders of the grotesque mash of flesh were the little pile of nails by his feet.
"Note to self, don't lose limbs." Jaune mumbled to himself, holding his hand up and looking around it. "And if I were to lose a limb, make sure I can stitch it back." Suppressing another shudder.
Kicking off the column, he took a step forward and looked at the flaming skull. Eight burning flames of zealous wrath stared back at him. Barely managing to turn the skull to the side as a burning gout of fire came bellowing out its mouth. Deafening loud. The silence after feeling as deafening.
"You can't leave the labyrinth, can you?" Jaune asked, golden chains sprouting from his hands not a moment later. Snaking around the misshapen skull until it's jaw was sealed shut and gold were layered over its eyes. The skull shaking in its bindings.
Holstering it to his belt, Jaune began searching through the chamber. Finding an ashen amulet in a pile of ash. Pulling out an amulet made of burnt bone, he slotted them together. Seeing an invisible line shot out of the half-finished key.
Eyebrows falling down when he noticed the line move.
Pocketing the amulet, he quickly took inventory of what he had before disappearing down a cobbled corridor. Knowing that he was running low, not dangerously so, but close enough to know he needed to act accordingly. The fire skeletons ambush had forced him to fight with everything he had and more. Almost not having made it out in one piece.
Even if he could, he didn't feel like going back to the dream. Knowing that he would have been more alert and would have handled the ambush better if he hadn't been stomping around like an elephant.
"At least my debt is soon paid. I can't wait for the ghosts to rest." Jaune mumbled, throwing a quick glance to Crocea Mors's handle. Swearing he saw a blue eye and head of snow in the reflection of the blade. "She really is her mother's daughter." He mumbled to himself, blinking, and seeing his own reflection in the blade.
He could still feel her ethereal arms around his neck, the cold breath that tickled his back, the words she whispered echoing in his mind. The talk not having gone close to what he had expected.
In a moment he wasn't in the labyrinth, instead he was racing forward with determined steps. Violet and the younger queens making themselves scarce. The stench of blood, the lingering heat of fire disappearing as he remembered how it had gone. The rays of moonlight gently caressing him instead. A familiar invisible wind dancing through the dream.
"What were you thinking?" Jaune bellowed, the first words to came to mind. Panic and anxiety coursing through his veins. That his team knew about the blood was one thing. But that was because he trusted them. They wouldn't tell, and even if it could slip out it could always be played off as some joke or quirk of his semblance.
The Infinitive Man was something else entirely. While he knew on a conscious level that he had his heart in the right place. Immortality took it's tool on everyone. He and Vomit Boy were prime examples. So were all the other hunter's the dream had contracted through the years. Even if the Queen was immortal, the person he had met hadn't been the same person that had killed Elizabeth all those years ago. Just knowing that there was another immortal that knew about the blood sent shivers down his spine. His paranoia eating at him.
He had seen with his eyes, experienced with his body, and baptised his soul with death after death. Feeling the consequences of the blood with every fibre of his being.
It didn't matter why, Jaune would never forgive himself if something close to the beast plague spread out in Remnant. Praying that some of the divine haven't already thrown their attention over to their little rock of dirt.
"What were I thinking?" Elizabeth had whispered back in surprise, floating down with a frown. "You don't see? That I was laying the groundwork for your success?"
"Immortal." She whispered before he could reply. Floating down to him and circling him until she floated behind him with her arms around his neck and resting her head on the nook in her arms. "Like mother." Letting the words hang in the air, Jaune could feel her smile into the crook of his neck. "And… like mother, he too must have ways to quickly climb back into power. With how… vague… his next host tends to be, it stands to reason he have a dozen ways to climb the ladders quickly into any position he wants. Some weird and obscure laws only he knows that are still iron clad."
"What do you want." Jaune shot back, giving her a flat side-eye. The bugs and filth in Elizabeth's empty eye socket writhing in promised ecstasy.
"I don't want much." She whispered back gently. "I only want for you to have what should be rightfully yours. A kingdom of your own. A kingdom that should have been rightfully yours."
"Why? Where do you see yourself if I suddenly was king, or crown prince?" Jaune snarked with a roll of his eye. Already having an idea of what she was playing at.
"With your magic, the Immortal's ways, and my knowledge of courts, making a kingdom of our own isn't a dream." Elizabeth whispered, softly brushing a finger through his hair as she ignored his question. "What your predecessor did in five years, you can do in less."
"A kingdom built on the blood, will be a kingdom undone by the blood." Jaune shot back. Having experienced the worst of what Yharnam had to offer.
"But it doesn't have to be by the blood, does it?" Elizabeth whispered ever so softly. "You are the authority on reanimation. On healing. Laurance built a church that couldn't be challenged in five years by offering free healing. With a single touch you have cured impossibilities. You can regrow an arm in manner of seconds. Move life-threatening injuries from one person to another. Act as if nothing has happened when your brain is spilling out of your skull. How easy wouldn't it be, how quickly couldn't you build yourself the same fanatically loyal following as the vaunted Laurance."
"Just imagine." She breathed gently, the seductive whisper of power making the hairs on his back stand. "The tales of your ancestors, the power and riches they so freely gave away. Once again returned to rightful hands. Your hands. And wouldn't it be freeing to finally be allowed rest? To have someone else out hunting the discarded maiden instead? You have done so much; you have taken on burdens that would shatter weaker men. Refusing to forget what would drive lesser men insane. You are allowed rest. You are allowed to take what should be yours."
"And all it would cost would be betraying myself." Jaune shot back. Even if his words lacked heat. Instead coming out with a bone-tired weariness. A spark in his chest making warm anger come smouldering forth. It wasn't something explosive. Something loud and quick. It was a cold anger. A burning anger that smouldered and ate until it was all that remains. "Even if it means unleashing something worse than the grimm on Remnant?"
Jaune didn't give her the chance to reply, storming off and breaching into the labyrinth in one decisive action. Promising to himself that he wouldn't leave until he had paid of his debt. Anger, frustration, and everything bubbling in his chest as he marched through the labyrinth.
Abruptly stopping, Jaune pulled himself out of his thoughts, a keening sound followed by some sharp sparks of light coming from further down the corridor. In the dim light it wasn't hard to make out the form of the living ghost before him. Draped in once luxurious robes that were still decorated by finery of an age long gone by. From its head fell spindly white hair, full of knots and splits. While it's eyes were but empty sockets, it's mouth open in a frozen scream. Missing both teeth and tongue.
Stopping abruptly, it's head snapped towards him. Crocea Mors already coming up to deflect the blade.
A curse escaping his lips when his blade met nothing. The curved scythe simply passing around his blade, biting into the little bits of aura he had managed to regenerate. Gold flickering slightly as Jaune moved to attack. Sword shooting out for a lighting fast thrust. Just barely nicking it's neck as the living ghost threw itself to the side. Pushing off the wall and running at him with inhuman grace.
Shimmers of soft moonlight falling on it as it suddenly accelerated.
Jaune elegantly stepped around the blow, leaving a deep gash into its side. The robe it wore blackening. Only for the living ghost to come rushing back at him as if completely unaffected.
Slamming his back into the wall, Jaune felt his mind work overdrive. Already having a plan. This wasn't the first time he fought against a speedster wielding a scythe. Fishing out a throwing knife, he held it in his off hand. Willing gold to flow out of his hand and wrap marge into the hilt.
Wrapping the brittle dagger in aura, he shanked it into the wall with all his might. Just in time for him to have to slip under another blow. Feeling the shard winds tickle his neck, feeling his head missing a familiar weight.
"My hat!" Jaune shrieked, eyes racing back to the living ghost as he glared. The second he sensed the misty spirituality fall over the living ghost. He darted to the other side, pulling with all his might. The living ghost didn't snap it's neck at the makeshift line as he had hoped, instead it felt like his arm was yanked out of its socket. Then a moment later, it was.
A wet tearing sound squelched through the hallway as his arm was torn off for the second time in what felt to be five minutes.
Jaune didn't pay it any mind. The pain familiar, only helping to sharp his focus. Adrenaline never having stopped surging through him. Like a demented ghost he threw himself forward. Slamming his blade into the skull of the living ghost. Where he had lost an arm, it laid sprawled out on its back. Wheezing with its blade nowhere in sight. Pearly bones snapping through the robe it wore.
Once, twice, thrice, and not stopping until it's skull was a gory mess of bone and grey brain matter.
Sheathing his sword, Jaune spat out a bit of phlegm. Bending down and grabbing his arm. Holding the tear against each other as he pulled on the spell. Glaring at the corpse as he felt flesh knit. Not caring for the bony white amulet piece slipping out from its fingers. Nor caring for the surge of blood echoes he suddenly had. The echoes he got from the fire skeleton going a mile to pay of his debt. What echoes he got from the living ghost paying of the remaining bit, while also giving a lot in excess.
Taking a deep calming breath, he picked up the bone amulet. Ysolde already having spirited off the top of his hat to the dream. He knew it had only been a question of when. But his hat had survived Cainhurst, the grand cathedral, and the watchdog. Sure it had gotten scuffed, some burn marks and smelling of ash and blood. Yet a part of him coulndt help but imagine it becoming invincible.
Slotting the amulet into its place, an invisible wave seemed to pulse through the entire labyrinth. In a moment Jaune sensed twenty-seven other glowing stars in his mind's eye. Feeling as if he had a thousand eyes staring into his back.
His head snapped to the side, and he saw the first beast he had slain come charging down the hallway. All fur, fire, tooth and claw. Feeling one of the twenty-seven come rushing towards him in his head as well.
"Thought it was too easy." Jaune clicked his teeth. Throwing another look at the amulet as he quickly drew his sword again. Crocea Mors's shill cry momentarily halting the flame wielding beast, before it seemingly regained its courage and leapt towards him.
Darting forward to meet it, Jaune shoulder bashed it, ignoring the how the teeth bit into his neck, the claws that gouged at his eyes. Instead slamming it into the wall and stabbing his blade repeatedly into its stomach. Taking a step back when it's organs came spilling out. Only to slam his fist into its mouth as he struck his sword into its heart. Twisting Crocea around for extra effort.
Spitting out a glob of blood, he rolled his wrist, looking impassively on the bitemarks. Feeling the twenty-seven beings tick down to twenty-six. Fishing out the amulet, he noticed it felt larger. More complete in a way. Having gained something it previously lacked.
Feeling the other twenty-six make their way towards him, Jaune felt the walls come closing inn. Quickly darting towards the walking ghost and roughly carving out its heart. Having noticed something else about it when fighting it. He didn't have time to think about it now, but a moment was all it took for him to carve it out. Even if a bone spur pierced through it, he still had Isolde come and spirit it away.
Snapping it's finger's, he cast the save state spell on the corpse. All the million bits and pieces of knowledge came racing through his mind. Not having had the time direct it into his journal.
"It's human, but not." Jaune mumbled, even if he wasn't really paying attention to that. Standing up and darting down right back to where he had been ambushed by the burning skeleton earlier. "It's like Violet." He continued to himself, knowing he had felt something similar between his apprentice and the living ghost. He hadn't been able to put a finger on it, but even if he was already forgetting most of the info bomb.
For something hidden in a labyrinth for who knows how long, it's blood was eerily close to Violet's.
"Or maybe it's not it's blood that is similar to Violet. But Violet's blood that have become closer to its." Jaune mumbled to himself. Drawing his revolver and slamming the butt of the pistol into the head of a shambling corpse. Splattering blood and grey matter all over his arm. "Was it always like that? Or is it that the bloodline ritual I held for her had to draw from somewhere?"
Shaking his head, he pistol whipped a pouncing dog to the side. "No time to go down side tangent's now." He chided himself. Expertly dancing around another blood crazed lunatic, holstering his revolver and pulling out a bold hunter's mark. Filling it with spirituality as the edges caught fire. Only for the bone amulet he had picked up to vibrate. Sending out an invisible wave that drowned the flames. The mark turning to scattering ash in his fingers.
"One night." Jaune groaned, pulling out his revolver. Pulling the trigger twice. Throwing himself on the half dead carcasses of the fire breathing beasts. Shattering their skulls before impaling their hearts. "Can I have one fucking night where things go my way?"
"That could work." Jaune mumbled absentmindedly, brain abruptly switching gears. Holstering his revolver, he fished out a vial filled with fire dust. Pulling the malformed skeleton skull from his hip with silent determination. A loud crack rang through the room he found himself in as the pommel of Crocea Mors cracked open the skull.
Pouring a vial of fire dust into the skull, Jaune fell into familiar steps. One step forth, a quick diagonal to the right, a step to the left, another diagonal to the right, and he weaved and danced his way through crowd. Biting his tongue and spiting a glob of blood into the mix. The fire dust having kicked the burning flames in the skull into overdrive. Only the golden chains keeping it from exploding.
Eyes darting around, he did his best to keep his calm. Even if he mentally felt a cluster of 'stars' coming swarming towards him. Almost boxing him into the room. Filling all the corridors and coming after him with a mad zeal. 'Two can play that game.' He thought to himself. Fishing out one of his special bullets. The light of an aurora momentarily lighting up the sanctum he was in as he dropped the crystal tipped silver bullet into the already volatile mix.
Throwing the skull up into the air, he stopped for a moment and took a step back. Punting it like a football down the closest corridor. Golden flakes swallowed by a golden orange glow reminiscent of the sun quickly drowned out everything. Rapidly intensifying to the point where just standing in the light felt uncomfortable.
Throwing himself behind a pillar. Jaune wrapped himself in what remained of his shattered aura. Hoping for the best but bracing for the worst.
"Might have miscalculated that one." He mumbled to himself, rapidly encasing himself in his blood armour. Throwing in all his last resort spells for added measure.
There wasn't a boom. Neither a bang. Instead the light grew more and more intense. Until blinding white was everywhere. Then it was gone. Six stars disappearing into nothing as his amulet felt more complete. His rune surging as he felt more echoes be absorbed.
The cobbled walls and pillars were washed pure white, stained only by blackish grey shapes of beasts and men. Brazier's laid melted against the cobbled floor, flames flickering out, neve able to match the radiant brightness that had just washed over the corridor.
"Ohhhh." Jaune marvelled, standing up, having to fight of the shiver that raced through him. "Ohhhh!" He coulndt help but let out as he took in the carnage. It was inhumanly clean. Even the air felt pure, clean of all traces of blood and other things that gave it moist wet taste.
Snaping his head to the side, Jaune felt another star step out of another corridor. Eight eyes blazing with zealous fury. Ashen blade held aloft, while it's chest looked like a burning wicker basket. Only made of wrought iron instead of straw.
"Maybe this night isn't so bad after all." He mussed to himself. The memory of losing an arm and almost dying completely gone as he walked forward on cobbled steps whiter than marble. 'And I really should take the chance to do as much as possible now that I have all my best spells active.'
The red armour wrapped around him like another set of clothes. The soft golden hues that hadn't been washed out by the blood on Crocea Mors shone just a tad brighter. For a moment giving the blade a noble aura. Only for the illusion of nobleness to shatter when he dashed forward. Crocea Mors screaming through the air. Cracking edge against edge against the ashen blade.
Flying up and cutting through the brim, only to come down in a quick cleave towards the burning skeletons neck. The skeletons blade coming up to lead her away, while it's sharp footwork moved itself out of the attack, and into prime position for a quick and sharp riposte. The sabre biting into the blood armour on his neck. Leaving nay a scratch as Jaune pushed the offensive.
Crocea Mors danced through the air, knocking away the blade and coming down for another quick cleave. Only to dart sideways with a quick jerk of Jaune's wrist, biting deep into the skeletons wrist. Fire like magma spilling out onto the white stone. Quickly cooling down into black slag.
Without giving it a single second to rest, Jaune's offhand shoot forward. His punch landing squarely in the skeletons face. Jerking the head back momentarily. Giving him just enough time for him to burry Crocea Mors into its neck. Flicking his wrist to sharply split head from body. Catching the eight eyed burning skull before it could hit the floor. Feeling his blood echoes tick up together with the amulet.
Instantly gold shot from his off hand, wrapping around the skull. "Isolde, would you be so kind to also leave a note that reads don't touch, beside or by the skull?" Jaune asked politely, the flaming golden skull turning to silver dust in his hands. Only for the amulet to let out a keening sound.
Acting on pure instinct, Jaune chucked the skull down the corridor with all his might. Throwing himself to the side as a loud boom echoed through the hallway. A wall of fire exploding from the hallway not a moment later.
"Bound to the labyrinth. Can't leave." Jaune clicked his teeth, quickly getting back on his feet. Shaking off the disappointment as he walked down the tunnel. "Got a bit too caried away there." Drawing his pistol, he walked over the sea of flames. Smoke and smog parting round him as he planned out his route to the nearest star. With the path to the next floor so clear, he wanted to find the next chalice as quickly as possible.
While everything in this floor knew where he was. Growls, snarls, every sound imaginable echoed down the twisting halls. Every single one of them heralding beasts who wanted him dead.
{-ooo-}
"Did you hear that?" Jaune asked, looking up as he let the frozen almost mummified corpse thud to the ground. Standing up and looking around. It was a new night, in the shadow of Cainhurst's towers where he found himself. Having pocked his head into the third floor of the labyrinth and decided to come back later when he saw three giants be torn apart by a human-like blur. Not having wanted to risk anything after just slogging through the second floor.
"Hear what?" Violet asked softly, voice twitching slightly as she edged closer to him. Eyes darting around between the old and decrepit houses.
"It sounded like singing." Jaune muttered, closing his eyes. Trying to catch some of the notes he had heard. Head lurching to the side as blood tickled from his ears. Mud squelched under his boot as he tried regaining his balance. Feeling the world lurch, twist, and drown all at once when the single syllabus chimed in his ear.
Taking a quick step back, he snapped his fingers, the purging spell falling over him. Yet the syllable echoed in his ears like the beating of a drum. Blinking away the stars he saw, he lurched forward. Emptying his stomach, greenish roiling puke landed in the wet mud.
Wiping his mouth clean on his sleeve, he stood up. Shaking his head, blinking away the last remaining spots in his eyes. "Note to self, don't listen to the echoey song that you shouldn't be able to hear." Jaune mumbled to himself. Not expecting to have to say that aloud to himself.
He liked to think himself used to Yharnam's many horrors, but it appears that was nothing but arrogance talking.
"Dad… what was that?" Violet whispered softly. A fearful uncertainness twinkling in her eyes. The corpse she was dragging landing in the soggy mud with a wet squelch.
"That was me getting a metaphorical boot shoved into my skull through my ears." Jaune replied simply. Scratching his chin as he looked around at the pile of corpses they had gathered. "Not really sure what I was expecting honestly. I can cast spells by singing. So can the Queen, and maybe the spectre's. Don't know what I was expecting honestly. It's Yharnam."
"Can… can you teach me?" Violet asked, looking up at him with twinkling eyes.
"Tomorrow. Maybe on the road. It's time we head out." Jaune replied simply, moth twitching up in a little smile when he saw a vibrant grin appear. "But now that we got all of the township's corpses accounted for. It's time to split them apart, lay family side by side. If you want to do something else, go through the houses and see if you can find some items of sentimental value. Something for them to take with them to the great ever after."
Giving him a little nod as he bent down and began the dirty process of moving and categorising all the corpses. It had already taken a while to get them all down from the torture wheels. Having to bash the faces in of some ghouls that was startled awake not making it any faster.
"What is it, Violet?" Jaune asked, his apprentice following behind him and looking as he worked. Even if they were dead, his spirit vision made him able to glimpse half invisible treads between families. It wasn't much, but it did make it easier to work. Not having to stop and guess who went where. 'Still, maybe should have someone to lie them on, or in. Instead of having them all together in the mud. Having tortured bodies piled together before the castle sounds like a recipe for making undead abominations.'
"How can you cast spells by singing?" Violet asked, pouting slightly as she looked at him work. "It's not what you taught me." She continued with a soft pout.
"There are different ways to perform magic. Even under the umbrella of 'blood magic', how we cast spells and how those from Cainhurst cast spells are two different things." Jaune lectured, a pair of soft ethereal arms wrapping around his neck. Going straight back to working, he didn't mind the presence of the young queens. He still wasn't on speaking terms with Elizabeth. That didn't stop the ghost in question from clinging to him. Knowing that just her presence, made yesterdays words tumble through his mind.
"The standard way of performing rituals. Cainhurst's deals and debt's. And our anchoring, are all just different ways to get to the same results." Throwing a quick glance over to her and noticing the confusion, he wracked his head for a better metaphor. "It's like killing someone. You can shoot them. Stab them. Hang them. Push them of a cliff. Have someone else do it for you. But at the end of the day, you end up with the same thing. A corpse. It doesn't matter what discipline you practice, at the end of the day, every discipline is just a different way to get to the same end result."
"But singing don't use blood." Violet continued. "It doesn't require sacrifice. It doesn't have power. It's just words."
"You are both right and wrong." Jaune continued. Laying a child no older than Violet between it's parents. His face an unrecognisable mess, chest carved open by hungry beaks. Bone sticking out from the arms and legs, bent into impossible shapes. "Casting spells through song and quickening can both be seen as a type of Arcana. Much of the magic is still lost on me. It has a type of structure, but the rules are non-existent and interchangeable. But I do know the core of the magic."
Shaking his head with a wry little smile, he stood up and looked around. Violet staring at him with sparkling eyes. Pen and notebook in hand. Sitting on the stone steps of a house and waiting with bathed breath. The young queens floating through the air, looking at him in curious confusion. Even Elizabeth was still. An electric anticipation in the air.
Reaching into his pocket, he took out two coins he had nicked of some mad man in Yharnam.
"Sympathy. Is the core of Arcana and consists of using your spirituality to establish a sympathetic link between two objects." Flicking one of the coins into the air, he quickly established a link between the two. In an instant the twirling coin stopped. Winking at Violet, he danced the other coin between his fingers. The floating coin dancing and perfectly mimicking the coin in his hands. "Due to this, the floating coin move exactly like the coin in my hands. This is also how I light my pipe without a lighter. By establishing a link between my finger snap and the pipe weed. However, compared to the link between the coins that are equal. The link between my snap and the pipe weed is extremely one sided, making the little friction that comes from the snap enough to start and fuel a fire."
Violet's sat rock still as she found herself enraptured in his little magic trick. All mentions of writing it down having completely slipped her mind.
"You remember what I said about Blood Magic's different types of sacrifices?" Jaune asked, continuing the thankless task of moving bodies. The more he moved, the more disgusted he felt at the Executioners actions. Men, women, children and daughters, all brutalized in the worst possible ways.
"Sacrifice of Intent, Humanity, Life, Creation and…" Violet trailed of, looking up at the floating spectres. Clamping down on what she was going to say.
"Yes. If the different types of sacrifices are to build a tower, then Arcana is discarding the tower and establishing an sympathetic connection between yourself and the cosmos directly." Jaune replied, looking over his shoulder to give her a hard glare. His apprentice thankfully getting the unsaid parts of not trying anything yet. Pouting, but not challenging him. "Like I mentioned earlier, I'm still uncertain if there are any 'aspects' or equivalents umbrellas for Arcana. I'm sure there are, but what books the workshop have on it are too scattered to help."
"If you can cast spells by singing, why don't you." Violet asked with a little pout.
"Because, unlike Blood Magic. Using Arcane magic leave marks." Jaune said. Pulling his hand out from his glove and waving Violet over. The little girl pouting but coming over obediently. Opening his mouth, he grabbed his tongue and pulled. Violet's eyebrows disappearing into the shadow of her hat as she looked at his tongue. Blinking as if she coulndt believe it. Pulling her hand out of her glove and curiously poking at his tongue.
"It's silver." She mumbled.
"Not completely." Jaune replied, pulling his tongue inn and standing up. The morning he had first seen streaks of silver on his tongue burnt into his mind. Still disbelieving of the fact. "But the Cosmos is a well of unending power at an unimaginable scale. And we are just small, squishy humans. Blood Magic establishes a sort of barrier between the caster and the cosmos. That's why the only marks of the magic are self-inflicted wounds and a clammy paleness that can come from offering too much of your own blood."
"So… if I learn to sing magic… will my tongue also turn silver?" Violet asked, a bit too curious for his liking.
"No. Or… that depends." Jaune sighed, standing up and getting back to the task at hand. Feeling as the township's square was beginning to feel a bit cramped for all the scattered families laying around. "The Cosmos is a 'catch-all' term for better or for worse. Establishing a sympathetic link with a constellation, a concept, a Divine who lives there, they are all the same. Falling under the umbrella of The Cosmos. When I sing magic, I don't draw power from The Cosmos itself, but instead from the Moon."
'Or the Mother of the Dream whose presence lingers there.' Jaune thought to himself. Not keen to share that little morsel of knowledge with Violet.
"Since I draw my power from the moon. All my songs, or chants, are off the moon. And, again, since I draw my power from the moon, the spells I cast are also limited to the moon's domains. Purification, invisibility, silence, night, to name a few. However the moon isn't capable of directly causing damage. It is… gentle, ever present, a guide, a friend. But… say… if I were to sing of the sun, or the dragon constellation-" Jaune had to force himself to not wince as all the blood in his body suddenly felt like going the wrong way. A nebulous sensation of petulant possessiveness felt through his bond with the dream. "- then I could cast other spells. Preaching the sun's gentle warmth. Or maybe the sun's burning light smiting the unclean."
"In fact, Quickening is just another facet of drawing power from the moon." Jaune rambled, instantly feeling the possessiveness disappear. Replaced by something akin to pride. What kind of pride he didn't know, but he felt pride nonetheless. Deciding to not delve into that rabbit hole, he continued. "Quickening is a more internalised type of magic. Instead of drawing on the cosmos to change the world around you, you are drawing on the cosmos to bolster yourself."
"What do you draw on?" Violet asked with a little tilt of her head.
"The Moon." Jaune replied simply, bending down and lifting the corpse of a young woman up. "Or the illusionary nature of the moon to be exact. Proper quickening isn't as much a burst of speed as it is appearing illusionary. The burst of speed instead simply a side effect of internalising the moon's power."
'Drawing power from a Comet is the next step, isn't it.' Jaune thought to himself. Grimacing at the memory of being at its receiving end. 'Trading the illusionary nature for pure speed.'
"It's actually why I have such a hard time with the art." He continued absentmindedly. Placing a young girl down beside a young boy. Not at all surprised when the two corpses hands inched towards each other. Choosing to help them along, he bent down and interlocked their fingers. Standing up, the restlessness that clung around the eyes of the corpses seemed to disappear.
"I grew up under Remnant's shattered moon." Jaune said, standing up and instantly moving back over to the pile of corpses. "When I try to perform quickening, it is that image of a shattered moon that breaks the link before it can form. Where instead, when I sing, I sing of the moon, letting my chants build the connection for me."
Stopping abruptly, he jaune took a deep breath of disappointment.
"Violet." Jaune sighed heavily. Gently laying the corpse down and standing up. Turning to see a familiar shimmer wrapped around her like a cloak. Snapping his fingers, he burnt a spell slot, the shimmer around her disappearing as if never there. His daughter suddenly looking guilty. Standing rooted to the spot. All earlier excitement wiped from her face. Replaced by a faint shred of fear.
Personally he didn't know if he should be happy, or disappointed.
On one side she was beginning to grow to the point she was a bit rebellious. Something that was good. She needed to grow, to feel safe with him to the point where she felt comfortable pushing at the boundaries he had set. On the other side, there was a difference between staying up a while longer after he tucked her in and establishing a link with the moon. One thing would see her tired and hopefully regretting her actions next morning, while other had a very real chance of her going puff.
He still had nightmares about the time her head exploded after she used her recently given magic to look to deeply into the doll. Just the thought of her establishing a to wide link sent shivers down his spine.
"Look. I'm not angry." Jaune whispered gently. Coming over to her, he gently pulled her into a hug as he fell down onto a knee before her. "I'm scared." He whispered gently. "I have nothing against you wanting to practice, to learn and to master. But not behind my back. I want, no, I need that you treat the Arcane with the same seriousness that you do Blood Magic. There is a reason why I have you go over your circles again and again. Because they are your only layer of protection from the magic. And even then, a single mistake will see the magic spill out, loosing any and all direction."
Letting the words hang for a moment, he breathed out as he let Violet absorb the words. The faint blush on her cheeks quickly disappearing as her eyes went wide. Giving her the faintest of nods when she figured it out. "The Arcane doesn't have that safety net. Where Blood Magic is structured, the Arcane is more intuitive and personal. Accidentally draw too much power… and well…" Smacking his lips loudly, a shudder raced through Violet.
"But… why don't you spend tomorrow night together with Gherman?" Jaune asked, standing up and giving her a little pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure the man who first discovered and mastered Quickening can teach you better about the art than me."
"But I want to learn from you." Violet mumbled under her breath. Reaching up to gently grab at the hem of his coat.
"Then we will learn together." Jaune smiled gently. Making his way back to the pile of corpses. Violet following after him like a little duckling.
Lifting another corpse up, a sharp bark echoed through the night. A mangy mut came dashing out from where it was hiding. Missing one eye, wile dragging it's trailing organs behind it as it ran. Before Violet could draw her weapons, Jaune quickly placed a hand on her shoulder. Juggling the corpse to better be able to carry him.
The mut stopping before him, bending down and growling at him.
"Loyal little thing, aren't you." Jaune mumbled to himself, ignoring the mut and walking past it. Ever so gently lying the corpse down. In an instant the mut was beside it. Snivelling and huffing. Softly sitting down in the nock of one of it's arms. Laying it's head on what could only be it's owners chest as it snivelled.
Jaune didn't say anything, only placing a soft hand on Violet's shoulder as he returned to the corpse pile. There still was a mountain of work before him before he could even think of beginning to set up for the ritual he was planning. Firstly, he needed to lie every corpse together with their family. Then every family needed their own coffin. Each coffin needed at least some sentimental items.
And even then, he wouldn't be finished with the preparations for the beginning stages of the rituals preparation. He was in the pre-phase to the pre-phase.
'Might have made the ritual a teeny-tiny bit to big.' Jaune coulndt help but muss to himself as he continued. Hopeful that he could at least finish this tonight. Already having some ideas for how to get his hands on the coffins.
{-ooo-}
Note: now honestly, is it really a soulsborn fic if it doesn't include a maniacal/wanting/megalomanic queen/princess whispering promises of glory and wealth into a king/knight's ears and pushing them to break as what they wanted/fought for is slipping from their fingers like sand?
Note: Jaune, like every other souls-borne mc is constantly going to find himself confused, deceived, but at the end of the day, strangely sure of where he is going.
Note: Huh, maybe should have moved the warnings question here, but you live and you learn.
Note: And Arcane is explained. Not fully, that have to wait until Jaune reaches the university. But the how's and why's are explained. Vague enough to not explain everything, but also clear enough to hopefully allow some to begin making connections of how/why the hunter tools work.