Yo!
Not a ton to say this week, other than that we're back with Weiss and Jaune! These two are going to have a few chapters on their own for a while, so I hope you guys enjoy that!
Start Chapter 14
Weiss had, without ever really realizing it, been of the opinion that stepping outside of the Schnee Mansion in Atlas whilst winter raged around her was as cold as she was ever going to be.
She had felt that perfectly fair, given that Atlas was, factually, the coldest place on Remnant. Being suspended in the air and in the middle of an already frigid landmass, it regularly saw temperatures dropping to well below freezing, albeit there existed technology – not to mention dress – to counteract the frozen air.
And yet, Weiss realized then and there as she trudged through a snowy forest, halfway between Mistral City and Argus, that she had never really experienced cold before.
She had always been sheltered from it in some way. She had always had warmth to retreat back into if the cold truly threatened her. She'd gone out with Winter to play in the snow, and had snowball fights, and built snow forts – when Winter had been much younger, and she had been, too.
She had lived a sheltered life. It had never been clearer than it was now.
This was pure misery.
Her teeth chattered in her mouth, even as she sucked in on her cheeks to prevent them from actually impacting against one another. She had her arms huddled in to her chest, and was rubbing up and down as quickly as she could manage with her sore muscles, and exhausted frame.
This was cold, Weiss thought. The kind of cold that even one such as Weiss could very likely not withstand for long.
It was below freezing – which was perhaps obvious given the snow all over the ground, and the fact that it was still snowing – and didn't seem to be getting any warmer any time soon. The sun was well past halfway through the sky, which meant that temperatures were only going to start dropping within the next few hours.
And frankly, Weiss wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.
She'd not dressed for winter travel. After all, she'd been taking a train. She'd dressed with a jacket meant to ward off the cold of Argus, and a few changes of clothes that weren't any of them particularly heavy.
That was biting her, now. She'd not intended on having to actually be out in this weather.
In her defense, their train had been attacked by Grimm. Grimm that had, for all intents and purposes, quite literally zero reason to be there. Weiss didn't bother thinking too hard about it. The Grimm were random… well, she'd thought as much a few weeks back.
Still, Weiss had valiantly fought them off, keeping the passengers safe while the trains two Huntsman somehow got themselves killed. She hadn't seen the one die, but the second had been so shocked by it that he'd been pulled out of the train car by a Gryphon.
Weiss hadn't seen him again. She could only hope he'd somehow escaped its talons, and found his way back to civilization.
Logic stated that he had not.
She'd ended up having to decouple the last few cars for the front to get away, and whilst Weiss had tried to be on the cars that weren't decoupling…
Well, she'd hit a snag.
And thusly, so she was, smack dab in the middle of nowhere, freezing her ass off.
Suffice it to say she was not in the best mood.
She had decided early on to only burn her aura to protect her from the temperature as a last resort, but that was dangerously close to becoming a necessity. It had taken a few hits in the battle with those Grimm, and with things as they were, it wasn't getting a chance to regenerate either.
"I only wish I could do more," Jaune spoke from off of her back as the wind whipped at her. "Were that I were not trapped within this putrid mirror, I might utilize my magics to warm thy body. Unfortunately, there's little I can do but keep thy spirits up."
"My spirits?" Weiss bit back, more than a little bitter.
"Thou hath not noticed? I have been utilizing a spell that inflicts joy upon thee."
"I-inflicts joy?" Weiss chattered out. "I can't help feeling like… that's not the correct word for that."
"Did thou understand the idea or not?"
She begrudgingly grunted in assent. She didn't really want to think about the fact that Jaune was pumping raw joy into her, and yet she still felt like absolute shit.
How would she have been without his intervention?
"It was actually accidentally engineered, humorously enough." Jaune spoke, sounding like he was about to go off on one of his tangents again. "The fear spell was created first, but the man who created it, one of my court mages, quickly realized that by reverse engineering the process for fear, he could create all different kinds of emotionally manipulative spells. I stuck to those that sounded most useful."
"Joy was useful?"
"Of course. Making someone happy around you can very easily make them think that they agree with what you're saying, or that your ideas are superior to another's."
"So… manipulation, then?"
"Tis what I stated, was it not?"
He had, to be fair. "Did you ever use it that way? To manipulate people?"
Jaune was silent a moment. "…I did not. Such never came up. Never did I find myself in a situation where such would have been necessary."
"Every time you speak to me," Weiss shook some snow out of her hair, "I'm less and less convinced that you were ever a 'Dread King' in the first place."
"Ah."
Jaune didn't say anything else. Eventually, Weiss conceded that he wouldn't be at all, and kept walking.
She walked for what felt like an eternity, but judging by the fact that the sun in the sky had only changed position by thirty or forty degrees, it had only been a few hours. How that was possible, Weiss didn't know, but it was the truth, no matter how horrid.
And yet, as she crested the top of a small hill, she saw what she'd been hoping to see for a very long time.
A collection of buildings in a clearing a kilometer or so from her position.
Some form of civilization.
Her steps went from tepid and tired to energetic and fevered as she clambered her way down the hill, nearly falling two separate times, but barely keeping herself on her feet. She'd have to go back in time and thank herself for being smart enough to ditch the heels and get a pair of actual, Hunter-grade combat boots.
She was fairly certain she'd have died already by now if she hadn't.
"Why art thou running?" Jaune spoke, and Weiss questioned why he wouldn't be picking up on the fact that there existed a town just in front of them, but then she remembered he was facing directly opposite her.
"There's shelter!" She shouted with more energy than she really had.
"Ah, I see. That is indeed exciting."
Jaune sounded a bit out of it, but Weiss wasn't really in any state to question him on that given she was charging straight towards the small town.
The closer she got, the more her enthusiasm began to fade, however. It didn't take long before she started seeing signs that this 'town' wasn't all she'd thought it was going to be. For one, from a distance, it seemed like every house in the village was dark, and there was no life among the buildings at all. None of the chimney's had smoke rising from out of them, which felt like a huge mistake given that it was freezing out.
More than that, however, as Weiss closed the final bit of distance, she couldn't help but feel a small chill running down her spine.
Something about this place didn't feel right.
"Brunswick Farms?" Jaune suddenly spoke.
"Hm?"
"Tis a sign." Jaune spoke, and Weiss turned to where, lo and behold, a sign that had the words 'Brunswick Farms' was hung up.
It had seen better days, what with a few of the letters having lost pieces and parts, and the actual signpost having a great chunk torn out. As Weiss looked around the various farmhouses, she realized that all of them were in similar states.
The wood was rotting in a lot of places, and there were signs of termite damage in some places, with entire houses having collapsed down in on themselves. Weiss cursed below her breath, realizing that this wasn't quite the well-populated village she'd been hoping to find.
"It appears abandoned." Jaune spoke unhelpfully.
"Yes, I had figured that out." She bit out, before sighing. "Sorry. Nippy at the moment, and in more ways than one. Hopefully they left firewood or dust of some kind that I can use to spark up a flame."
"'Twould be optimal."
Weiss stepped forward, pushing open the rickety, rusted metal gate. She tried to shut it, but it seemed the metal hinges had taken that moment to finally give up the proverbial goose, and the door fell into the snow.
Weiss didn't even bother pretending to care.
The farmhouses themselves within Brunswick Farms had clearly been left to rot for years. Now that she was close enough to see them up close, she could see that a few were still standing, although more than half of those Weiss didn't want to walk into at all. It seemed as if, much like the gate in, they were just waiting for something to set them off, so that they might collapse like their brethren.
She groaned under her breath, but then walked into the central-most building, which seemed like it might've been a town hall or mayor's home at some point. It was held up more securely because of that, and Weiss was at the very least moderately confident it wasn't going to come crashing down on her if she sat down.
She did just that, stepping into the space, and, finding a carpet that didn't look like it was filled with maggots, collapsed down onto it.
She hissed out in pain as the aches of the full day she'd spent walking caught up to her.
She hadn't realized just how much the muscles in her calves and thighs hurt until they weren't required. She massaged at them gently, grimacing as pain flared within them. Even as she did, she felt the chill hitting her body from not moving.
She needed to find some manner of material with which to light a fire, and she needed to do it soon.
She cursed as she brought herself back onto her feet. Jaune was still tied to her back, and sure, that added a good fifth of her bodyweight on top of her… well… body, but she liked the company. In all honesty, if he really was providing her with joyful energy, she could use the boost.
She walked up a set of stairs on the left side of the room, which creaked beneath her steps. The third to last step shattered out from under her, but luckily, her boot and aura tanked any damage she might have otherwise suffered as her foot went right through the hole.
Her ankle cried out in pain, but unfortunately, she lacked a solution to that, other than to keep going.
She flexed it as she made it to the top of the stairs, and was glad to feel no overwhelming pain. She hadn't sprained it, or broken anything. That… would've been bad, trapped in the middle of nowhere with a sprained ankle and no source of food.
At least water wouldn't be hard to come by with all the snow. She could put some in a pot over a flame and boil it to cleanse it of impurities, and–
She opened the door to what seemed like the master bedroom, and a scream poured out of her throat.
She stumbled backwards, falling hard. Her eyes were wide, and her hands shook.
Because laying in bed there, side by side, were two dead bodies.
"What is wrong!?" Jaune shouted out.
Weiss was too busy trying not to have a panic attack to really think of a response to Jaune's words. She just sat there, her breaths coming unevenly, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Weiss!"
She was snapped out of the painful reverie by Jaune's voice, and she clung to it like a lifeline to get herself back into working order. She'd been momentarily stunned by the bodies, but she wasn't…
She was a Huntress. Or at the very least, she was one in training. She had…
She had to be able to see things like this, and not freak out.
…Saying that was a lot easier than making it so.
"I…" She pushed out between her teeth. "There are two dead bodies on that bed."
"Ah." Jaune voiced out, sighing wearily. "Well… I do not particularly like saying this, but you should investigate them."
"What!?"
"Do you not want to know if there's a killer about in this town?"
Gods, she hated that he made sense. She'd only gotten a brief look at them, but she stood, removed the mirror from her back, and held it in front of her as both a pseudo-shield, and way for Jaune to see what was going on.
She stepped into the space, and immediately, Jaune hummed darkly.
"Well… they are very much dead."
She'd gathered that. As she pulled the mirror away somewhat so she could see as well, however, she figured out what it was that Jaune had been saying.
She'd gotten so brief a look before that she'd not really been able to identify anything else about them, but now that she was looking…
They were old corpses. So old that they no longer even smelled. Which explained how Weiss had been able to walk in and not immediately know something had died here. Their skin had all but rotted away, and it seemed like the frigid temperatures were the only thing that had kept the bodies from decaying entirely.
Weiss didn't want to do much more than that, but Jaune covered for her by bringing up his own thoughts.
"It's odd. They don't appear to be older folk, or at least not the types who might lay down and die in their sleep. Although the likelihood of that occurring to both at the same time, and no one coming to find them, is slim." Jaune explained. "Added onto that I doubt they simply froze to death. There's wood all around this place, in a pinch, they'd have been able to find fuel for a fire. This was a community. The people would've relied on one another."
His analysis continued. "It is possible that a plague of some sort hit the village, and that these two, husband and wife, perhaps, were infected, and knew they would perish. Perhaps they simply lied down and accepted their fate."
"That…" Weiss gagged, unable to stay in the room much longer. "Do you have what you need?"
"I believe so."
She nodded, before making her way out. She shut the door behind her – the hinges complained very loudly about the sudden movement – before checking some of the other rooms on the top floor.
She still needed to find some manner of fuel to light a fire.
Nothing stuck out to her on the second floor, but as she searched, Jaune talked.
"They were not murdered; at least from what I can see. There were no obvious places where a blade or weapon had entered into them, and the sheets below them had no stains from blood, only from their flesh slowly melting into–"
"Let's…" Weiss interrupted. "Maybe abridge that somewhat?"
"Ah. Well, suffice it to say I do not suspect foul play in the traditional sense, which is… troubling, since them being there in the first place is quite odd."
It was. It didn't really fit with any preconceived notions that Weiss held. Somehow, two people had laid down to rest, and had, for seemingly no reason at all, not gotten back up.
Weiss went downstairs, and checked some of the other rooms. She was quite pleased when she found a wine rack, because, while it could serve as something to drink, it would serve her far better as a fire-starter.
First, she needed something to burn, however.
Luckily, she had a bunch of broken-down wooden structures scattered about the area, which meant she had plentiful firewood.
Weiss walked outside, and was immediately hit with the biting, chill wind that had been accosting her the entire day. She could feel the exact moment that Jaune's joy magic started up yet again, because suddenly, that wasn't so big a deal; she could handle it.
"Thank you."
"Tis nothing."
She summoned her Arma Gigas to carve the broken walls into smaller pieces of wood that could be used for kindling, and then had it haul a rather sizeable amount of the stuff back to the house she'd crashed in. She wasn't quite a fan of the fact that there were corpses upstairs, but…
Well, she didn't have many options, given every other house looked either one bad day away from collapsing in on itself, or already had.
As she was walking, Weiss felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she turned suddenly, raising Myrtenaster to fend off a threat…
But she found nothing. Nothing at all. Just an empty, snowy forest.
…Already, the fact that she'd found corpses had her jumpy. She was reacting at every little thing. She needed…
She needed to focus.
Even if, as she turned, she could've sworn she saw something move at the very edge of her vision. She ignored it, and soldiered on.
Finally, however, Weiss managed to make it back into the main house, and threw the wood down on the porch outside. She vaguely knew that she was supposed to keep it from getting wet, because wet wood didn't burn well – or something along those lines – and so she pulled it inside one at a time after a while. She'd have liked to use her Arma Gigas, but the roof wasn't high enough for it to fit, and if she made it smaller, it wouldn't have any more ability to lift the wood than she did.
Thusly, she conserved her aura, and did things the old-fashioned way.
Once she had, she threw a few logs into the fireplace in the main room, poured wine atop them, and then she emptied a bit of fire dust from Myrtenaster's phials.
She struck out at it with the tip of her blade, and created a small spark, enough to take on the alcohol, and set the logs burning.
Weiss felt like she could finally breathe after hours and hours of manual labor, and so when she plopped down this time, she shucked off her boots, and her coat, and placed them on the floor around the fire to dry. She would've done the same with her dress if she felt more comfortable being almost naked in such a situation, but given she didn't, she kept it on.
Jaune's mirror was set against the couch off to her left, half-facing her, and half-facing the fire. She looked over, and saw him… contemplative.
He had these moods every once in a while, and honestly, he normally delved into stories of his past, which Weiss wasn't quite willing to admit she found fascinating.
"I do not believe either of us have much to be doing at the moment." Jaune suddenly spoke, and Weiss jumped in place, albeit minorly. "Wouldst thou wish to hear more of my tale?"
Weiss couldn't quite hide her interest. "I… wasn't sure you'd be willing to share more."
"I was not, either." Jaune admitted, chuckling below his breath. "But… seeing Salem again… there was something eye-opening about that entire affair. She was… gone. The young woman I remember, at the very least, was not present within that monster's visage. Perhaps, somewhere at the very back of her soul, that girl still resides, but… I shan't hold my breath for her return."
"It… simply has me thinking on what it is I'm doing here. What my goal is. I had thought to take revenge on Ozma and Salem, but… well, I suppose you've figured out by now that, to me, it had been but a few minutes since I was sealed away by the Gods when you awoke me from my slumber."
She nodded her head.
"I had just moments before my awakening been sealed away due to the Gods, Salem, and Ozma working in tandem. That… contributed rather heavily to my initial anger, rage, and spite at the world. In all honesty, mirroring the fact that thou did not initially believe my story, in truth; I did not believe thine own, either."
Weiss' eyes widened. "You… didn't think I was telling the truth?"
"Hah, of course not." The man chuckled. "After all, what was more realistic; that I had been thrown somewhere for a few months, and had emerged in the halls of some wealthy princess, or that I had been lost for a hundred thousand years?"
When he said it like that, Weiss couldn't deny that such would've been hard for anyone to believe.
"I doubted you. I thought you told me but lies. That you were a mere pawn of the wretched gods, delivering unto me false prophecies. It was not until our escape, until I saw the fractured moon in the sky, and the city of Atlas, alongside the landmass of Solitas… that I realized the truth. That everything in my entire life had long since been lost to me. I hid my emotions away well, I feel. I doubt thee suspected a thing."
She hadn't.
"Even so, the way that I… exploded upon that woman who ran that bandit camp… well, it was mainly Ozma's magic hanging about her, and a way for the both of us to escape from that place unscathed, but it was also… a disappointment with the world, I suppose? I had once fantasized about removing evil from the world entirely, as you know with my attempts to manufacture a spell that could sap the darkness from a person's heart."
She'd seen it in action, yes.
"But such never resulted in anything. Even so, I suppose I thought… that in the future, people would be better than we had been. That they would rise above petty squabbles, and become a better… species. And yet, that did not happen. From your own account, I came to realize that things such as classism and racism still existed within Atlas, and from your words, the entire world. Despite a whole new species of beings coming into existence with these faunus people, humanity was ever as it was. I discovered that people were still segregated by borders, and ideologies. And then we were captured by bandits when at our weakest, when we needed help… I suppose that acted as the final straw."
"You were… calm while we were captured."
"I had to be." Jaune spoke, and he let out a sigh. "I have always had to be. I am a king. A king cannot speak his true emotions when there is work to be done. A king must forge onwards, never wavering. Thus, I presented a strong front, and I walked thee through a means of escape. But after everything… when I felt Ozma's magic, that was merely the tipping point. I had been broiling for quite a while already."
"Regardless," Jaune shook his head. "I am getting off topic. What I had been meaning to say is that I have come to realize that thou might be my only true ally in the world at the moment."
That… was likely the case for her as well. Her team, of course, she felt she could trust, but she didn't think she'd be able to trust them in matters relating to the mirror.
It seemed Ozpin – Ozma? – had gotten to them first, and fed them his version of events.
And even if she didn't want to admit it, she cared about Jaune, and wanted to protect him.
"And so, because of that, I wish for thee to know the truth of my rise to the throne." Jaune finished, looking over at her from within his mirror, the reflective sheen of the glass he was trapped behind glowing in the firelight. "Do you wish to hear of it?"
"If you're sure, then yes." She nodded her head. "I can't admit I'm not curious."
"Tis good to hear." Jaune's voice suddenly took on a somber tone. "There are… many individuals of that time that have faded from this world entirely. Many who do not exist now even in myth; their stories forgotten. If I am to be the last man in this world who will still remember them, then… I wish to regale thee with their stories. For they deserve to be heard."
Weiss nodded her head, curling up somewhat with her knees pulled up to her chin, and her arms wrapped around her legs. It was warm, and with the fire, she could actually feel herself beginning to relax.
It was strange how relaxed she felt. Like she could just… lie back and close her eyes, and not do anything at all…
…
"Weiss?"
She snapped from out of her own head, looking over to see Jaune staring curiously at her.
"Apologies," She coughed into one hand. "I admit that the exhaustion of the day is getting to me somewhat."
"I do not have to tell this story now. Anytime would–"
"No, please," Weiss shook her head. "Tell me. I wish to hear."
"If you are positive, then…" Jaune cleared his throat, before his lips curled up into a gentle smile.
"Let me tell you of my decision to raise the peasant armies of D'Arc, and the liberation that we brought to our home, together."
Yet as Jaune began, Weiss missed the way that the Relic of Knowledge began to give off the faintest of glows.
/
Marie and James were dead.
It was the kind of cold shock that Jaune had felt but once before in his life; when one of their housemaid's had come by his room in the middle of the night to inform him that his mother had passed.
This was different. Before, he had been a child, with nothing to do but scream and cry, heedless of others, and their feelings.
Now, he was an adult. Nineteen years of age. And he could see the way the entirety of Oakenshire wilted.
It was on all of their faces, the few hundred people who lived in the tiny village. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone's name. Jaune passed the baker – Woodrow – standing in front of an unkneaded pile of dough, lost in thought. He walked towards the shoemaker's abode, and saw the woman – Elaine – carving too deeply into the piece of leather she was working on, clearly out of it.
He could not blame either; he himself was much the same.
He'd intended on allowing himself to zone out whilst he tended to the cattle, and yet, it seemed even that would not be allowed. He saw a great procession at the edge of the farm that Jaune worked at, and his eyes narrowed as he watched the man who'd taught him – Archibald, though literally no one called him that – stare at a set of armed men, who were hauling away entire sacks of grain and throwing them into wagons.
When they had mostly cleared away, Jaune stepped up towards the man who'd given him hearth and home when he'd had nothing.
"Archie, what is the meaning of this?"
Archie turned suddenly, seemingly startled, but when he saw Jaune he relaxed. He was still on edge, though. They all were, in fairness. "Ah, you've not been 'round for this before, have 'ya?" Archie sighed out as Jaune closed the distance between them. "They've come to take the king's tribute."
"Tribute?" Jaune's eyes narrowed as he looked over towards where half of their cattle were being loaded into the backs of a great many carts. "They're robbing us blind!"
"Yes, well…" The man ran a hand through his fading hair. "Not much we can do 'bout it."
Jaune begged to differ. These people… they were no men of the Kingdom of D'Arc, that was for certain. This was all some great lie.
His brother would not have allowed this.
He stepped past Archie, ignoring the man's calls that such was going to get him killed. That, too, served as the fuel that Jaune needed. These people were not his brother's men. His brother's men were fair, and just. He'd grown up around the knights of the castle, had watched them as they marched about, did their formations, and protected the people of their Kingdom.
He would not allow bandits to steal away that which Oakenshire had slaved away for months to produce.
"Halt!" He called out to them, and all but a few of them entirely ignored his words. "Halt, I say!"
One of them, seemingly a higher-ranked man, sneered. "And just who believes they can give such an order to the warriors of D'Arc?"
Jaune nearly wanted to spit at the man's feet. "Thou art no warriors of D'Arc, contemptable fool!"
The warrior stood a bit straighter, then, and his hand drifted down towards his blade. "I do not believe I like thy tone, peasant. I will give thee but a single chance to grovel for forgiveness before me. Perhaps then I will spare thy life."
If Jaune had been angry before, he was livid now. His magic – mediocre as it otherwise was – coursed through him as surely as the fury building within his veins, and he allowed a bit of it to show on his skin, a level of control that someone from the countryside would never be able to manage.
The man in front of him evidently noticed, for he took a step back.
"Thou dost not know to whom thy speak," Jaune spat out, and even if he had grown accustomed to living amongst the villagers of Oakenshire, he would not forget where he had come from. "I am Prince Jaune D'Arc, Scion of the house of D'Arc!"
"Prince–" The man took yet another step back, before another sneer ran through him, and he shook his head. "Ah, I suppose it makes sense we would run into thee eventually. Thou art the reject, then?"
Such conjured up memories of his banishment, and before Jaune knew it, black magics – the only kind he'd ever been any good at using – flared to life within his palms. He would've unleashed them on the man in front of them, if not for Archibald tackling him from behind, and wrestling him to the floor.
"What in the god's green earth are you doin', boy!?"
Jaune attempted to free himself from Archie's grasp, but couldn't manage it. He had grown stronger working on the farm for a year, but Archibald was forty-two, and had the sort of strength that came from a life of hard labor, day in and day out.
"Forgive him, sirs, please." Archibald begged. Begged. A man who had, in his life, done nothing but good and honest work was forced to beg in front of a man who Jaune could tell at a glance was the scum of the earth. "H-He's grown fitful in his time here. He means no offense."
"Archibald–!" Jaune hissed.
"Quiet, boy!" Archibald hissed back. "I'm tryin' to save yur' damn life!"
The man above them – men, at this point, given that a few other warriors had come over to inspect the commotion – hummed uncaringly.
"Fine. The king has asked for you to be left alone, regardless. I will simply let this serve as a lesson." The man spoke, barking out a haughty laugh as he sheathed his blade. "Not to question those of the house of D'Arc. Of which thou art no longer." He looked this time to Archibald. "Keep thine dog on a tighter leash next time, farmer."
"I will, sir."
Jaune's stomach burned hot with shame. Shame, and fury, and so many other things.
"Begone," The warrior stated one final time. "And do not enter into my sight again."
The man turned, and Jaune once more attempted to free himself from Archie's grasp, but to no avail. It wasn't until he had walked twenty or so meters away that Archibald stood from off of him, and Jaune was able to get to his feet.
His body ached from being thrown to the ground, and then clambered upon, but he was otherwise alright.
Nothing was wounded but his pride.
Though that was far from acceptable in his eyes.
"What in the hells havest thou done, Archibald!?" He rounded on the man.
"I'd ask the same of you, boy," The man shook his head. "And don't go callin' me that, like we're not acquainted."
"Thou certainly treated me like we were not!"
"I treated you like that because I wanted you alive, boy!" Archibald growled out. "What were you hoping to accomplish by raging at those men? An early grave!? That's all you would have received."
As he began to cool down, Jaune began to see some of the truth in Archie's words. It had him wilting somewhat, his anger fading from him as surely as the black flames gathering in his hands went out.
"Why were they here?" He asked instead.
"I said it, didn't I?" Archie grunted out as he stepped up beside Jaune, and the two of them watched as fifty or so soldiers utterly ransacked the stores of food that Oakenshire had prepared. "They're here for the King's tribute. They take half of what every village in the Kingdom makes, and bring it back to the capital. Usually, the nobles take a fair share of it, and the King and his fair company pocket the rest. At least that's what I hear, not like I've ever been."
That… but that didn't make any sense! Jaune thought ill of his brother for his decisions on choosing that blasted girl, Salem, over him, but he had never thought of him as heartless. No, the man thought too much with his heart in matters of his daughter.
How could this be allowed?
Perhaps… Gods, but it sickened Jaune to even think of it, but perhaps this was a policy that had been put in place long before his brother had taken the throne. Perhaps the Kingdom of D'Arc had always been doing this, even during his father's reign. Perhaps this was just normal.
"How long has this been happening?"
Archie thought for a moment, running a hand through his greying beard. "…Twelve-odd years? Started a year or two after the old king gave up the throne."
Jaune… he couldn't believe that.
Yet Archibald didn't stop speaking.
"There was always a tax; but that comes part in parcel with being protected by the Kingdom's soldiers. We used to pay around ten percent of our yearly production in taxes. That was reasonable, for us, given that the warriors would come around and cull wolves and bandits in the area, keep us all safe. But the new guy in charge wasted no time upping that rate when he took the throne. Hell, he also took a lot of the benefits away that we used to see for our taxes. No one comes and patrols the areas anymore, and because of it, we have to go out and protect ourselves. You weren't here for it, but four years back, young man named Jerome lost his life when he was assaulted by a pack of wolves whilst trying to hunt down the one that had gotten a few of his chickens. Brutal business. Found him in pieces. Just bits left over."
Jaune's stomach turned, and not just because of the story. That… that was to imply that it had been his brother who'd instituted these policies. More than that, he'd done so knowingly, and almost immediately.
And he'd stripped the people of what their taxes had once been used for.
…For what?
"Was a reason ever given?" Jaune asked, turning towards his mentor here in the lands outside the castle town. "For retracting the soldiers, for reneging on their duties?"
"Hah…" The man shook his head. "None more than there ever is. We're peasants. A lot of those nobles up there in their fancy castles think of us the same way as they do the cattle we raise for 'em; just beasts that provide 'em food. 'Cept at least we clean up after our animals. At least we take care of 'em. They're not even doin' that."
Jaune stood rooted to the spot, his breath catching. This was all…
"How… how have you allowed this for so long?"
Archie laughed, like the question in and of itself was ridiculous. "What other choice did we have, kid?"
…
It was odd. Jaune had spent the majority of his childhood not wanting to be king, not wanting to ride horses, or wield blades, or learn powerful combat magics. He had spent the majority of his childhood alongside the thinkers of the D'Arc Kingdom. Those who looked to the skies, and the ground, and the horizon, and questioned the point of all of those things.
They had wondered about the fact that a man could start on a path, and walk for years and years, but eventually end up in the same place. They had come to realize that their planet was not a flat plane, as many had postulated, but a sphere.
They had come to learn about gravity, and the way that it had, indirectly, formed their planets shape. That a flat disc of their planets size could not exist without breaking down around itself.
They had wondered what the small, dotted lights in the sky were, and so they had built devices that would allow them to peer into the very heavens. Most had shown nothing at all, but some… some had revealed themselves to be closer than others, potentially other spheres, just like their own.
And yet, despite his interest, despite how much he had wanted to remain among them…
He had had that choice taken from him. Or perhaps, he had made the choice to do right by his family, and by the people of the D'Arc Kingdom, by becoming the king that would follow in his brother's footsteps when one day he relinquished the throne.
He had not given all of that up so that this might happen. Clearly, there had been a mistake. His brother's rules were being ignored by those looking to profit off of those at a loss. Those soldiers… they had come and taken from the people of Oakenshire at their very lowest.
He was not about to allow that to stand.
He brushed himself off as he stood to his full height, and took several deep, calming breaths. He couldn't leave today, but by the morrow…
"You've got that look in your eye, boy," Archibald suddenly spoke. "That same look I get in me' own when I'm about to do somethin' stupid."
Jaune chuckled. "Is that the limit of the faith thou hath in me, Archie?"
"I've got faith in ya', but I've also got eyes. You're plottin' somethin'. What it is?"
"I will go to see my brother." Jaune spoke, and the man's eyes widened. "This… what is happening here is ridiculous. He would never stand for it. Someway, somehow, there has been a mistake. I will aim to correct it."
"And just how are you going to go about arranging such a thing? Were you not banished from that castle a few months back?"
It had been the better part of a year at that point, but that was semantical. He understood what Archibald was getting at.
"I will beseech him honestly. He will at least hear me out. He may, if he wishes, drag me into his throne room in chains so long as he speaks with me at all."
"And what will you tell him?"
"The truth. That the barbarism being committed outside his line of sight is nothing like what our father stood for. He will do right by thee and thine; I swear on the Brothers' themselves."
Archibald had a frail look hanging about him, like he didn't quite believe Jaune's words. Jaune understood, but he knew more than anything that this wasn't right.
And he wasn't going to allow his brother's name to be besmirched by the bastards who'd taken from Oakenshire what was theirs!
"…Good luck, prince." Archibald spoke as he made his way back towards town, to gather supplies for the journey ahead of him.
Jaune could not but laugh. "Worry not."
"I shan't need luck."
End Chapter 14
Alright! Next chapter; more Jaune backstory! Other things, too, probably. See you guys next week!
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