… Ozpin read the scrawled pages, occasionally murmuring at points. He was done at a rather quick time, but then he returned to the first page, and read it aloud.
"Once there was a woman trapped in the highest room of the highest tower. Her mother was not there, having died in childbirth, and she was imprisoned by her father, who loved her.
He never visited. She only had lifeless objects to live with."
Ozpin chuckled slightly as he looked down the rest of the page, and passed the pages to Glynda.
He spoke as he passed the story.
"Sounds familiar?"
Glynda read the pages, and stood still.
Not the stillness of her listening to the interrogation of someone's child. That was a pose of uncomfortableness that led her conflicted between wanting to learn what had happened, and chagrin at being unable to safely get an abused child away from this building. This was the stillness of seeing something so improbable that you couldn't fully recognize that this was real. The fact that this improbable situation revolved around the previously hiddenchild that was never discussed did nothing to help her current grasp on reality.
Qrow muttered at her stationary pose.
"Hey. Pass me them."
...
Ozpin stared directly at Paige during all of this.
… Qrow walked over, and slowly took the pages from Glynda's hands. She remained staring where the pages had been held
He glanced at the page looking for anything. Threats? Traumatic triggers? "Oh Brothers."
Ozpin continued to stare at the young woman gazing at the three of them, watching for her response.
Qrow's voice called out after a minute.
"Kid. What IS this?"
…
The young woman toyed with her doll.
"The tale. You wanted to know it."
… "It's not really a fairy tale. More of a biography with some changes based on her biased perspective, but I can tell it like a fairytale."
…
Ozpin leaned back. This needed a quick cut to be resolved.
He cleared his throat, and asked.
One simple question:
"Do you know a person named Salem?"
… They stared.
"I decline answering that. Do you know my wife?"
The girl shook the doll of Salem at Ozpin.
Yes. I do. Quite well, in fact.
"Yes."
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
… A change of pace might be needed.
You had called yourself a hunter…
"Are you a hunter?"
They nodded.
The questions went quicker now.
"What's your weapon?"
"Axe and shotgun."
"Semblance? I presume it's not actually 'clumsiness', but I also know you don't have much Aura currently."
… Actual title, or my name for it?
"The name or function?"
Ozpin waited.
"My tutor called it "Inevitability." I don't have a name for it cause it's annoying to acknowledge it. The function…"
Page smiled slightly and pointed to Glynda and Qrow. "They both can tell you part of it."
…
Qrow gave a questioning look. Page nodded, and Qrow told Ozpin "The kid can't die."
…
"Your teacher?"
"Grim Reaper."
The interrogation stopped at that point. It hit a roadblock named Maria.
"You don't use a scythe," Qrow said in an imperceptible whisper.
The girl cried out with a finger pointed in indignation, "That's not fair! You use a massive impractical one! I use what I'm good at!"
…
Ozpin sighed. They accidentally touched a nerve.
"I would like you to tell me all you're comfortable with sharing. However, I also want to have the answer to my question."
…
…
The three of them stood waiting.
Her eyes began to flicker.
"Does she control weird shadowy skeleton beasts?"
… It seemed rather obvious whoshewas in this circumstance.
"Red… eyes?"
The three remained quiet.
… She spoke in a whisper, "Do you call them a witch?"
….
Ozpin adjusted himself, and quietly gave an answer to all. Namely, "Yes."
….
"Well, then. I have something I am willing to share. With a catch."
Her interrogators stood closer, and the main one replied, "Will this cause significant damage or loss of life to anyone here?"
"If it goes wrong… Significant damage and torture to me."
...
"Do I have your vow that I will not suffer for the informa... what I am about to reveal?"
Ozpin spoke calmly, and told the young woman "I will not harm you for what you will tell me tonight."
Glynda and Qrow both glanced at Opzin. That had some very obvious loopholes.
... and they agreed to the promise. She... Paige. She said yes.
She held out her hand in a waving gesture, seeming to actually act the age of a young adult in front of school faculty when they did something wrong. It was honestly rather humorous, despite the current situation.
"Firstly... I like people. Just.. getting that out of the way first."
breathe in...
"No torture?"
"None." Opzin replied.
With her second breathe, she... broke.
Blackness poured out onto the floor like a sap, skin dried and tore, and there was a slight muffled cry coming from them. This was accompanied by her limbs breaking as they jolted like a rag doll.
Red light gleamed from the black liquid streaming down her face.
The liquid was drawn back up into the... body... and formed itself into a black coat and dress.
Bone white skin emerged from the pitch blackness that had overwhelmed their face. The hair, previously grey, was now bleached white.
The being straightened their outfit, removing an axe and metal shotgun from their coat.
Qrow felt the corresponding pocket in his coat where he had stored the weapons he had taken a few hours prior.
They were gone.
He watched the being... person... whatever it was now.
Red amidst bleached white turned into an even smaller speck, like a minuscule ruby. If it was even possible to do so, it seemed they managed to pale even further, and rapidly tried to speak, stumbling a few times until the managed to verbalize-
"Hey, Qrow. It's fine. I'm NOT going to do anything bad! It's not loade-"
The red eyed being tilted the weapon open deftly, held out the barrel, and the still room was filled with the soft sound of water dripping.
A stream of bullets fell out of the shotgun, falling into the shadow of their body with an endless splashing echo.
"Oh, Brother. Never mind that."
As the dripping faded with a quick "clack!" the room returned to silence.
Stagnant, visceral silence.
The creature now sitting where the interrogated young woman sat made an unusual face of discomfort.
"So... yeah. It's a bit awkward now. Should've expected that... Any questions?"
...
...
Ozpin spoke after a long period of silence.
"Is your name Salem?"
...HOW in the world do I respond to this? Does it count if it was a nickname? ... If everyone you knew in a town called you Salem Witch?
Honestly? These folks have a vendetta against "Salem" and... honestly? I don't blame the for it!
Just acknowledging the memories led to either really tragic things, or long boring pain. She couldn't even know any of them until she started her workday, so now that she did, she realized she messed up.
She grabbed out for Little Cass for moral support.
Can I really just say "Hey! Case of mistaken identity here!" and go home or something? I have a big Cass to find!
... I should be honest here.
"No."
Qrow laughed. Glynda looked like she wanted to murder me anyways.
Ozpin must have noticed my trepidation.
"Why?"
"If I used to be called it, then I changed my name and ran away from my torturous birthplace, I think that qualifies as not accepting that as a name anymore."
After all, it's pretty bad manners to deadname the Reaper.
"Are you saying you're apart from her? A separate person, if you will?"
Why does she even like this man? He's so... obnoxious.
... Then Paige saw the good flash of her life before her eyes. The small bit right before the largest area of the boring, boring pain. Although... this was probably really horrible for a first-timer. She cringed in sympathy.
But, now she knew what drove him. ...He cared.
Now... to hopefully talk myself out of endless pain, suffering, and torture!
... In other words, it's time to get a new place to sleep tonight.
"I am a separate person. For one thing, I don't like men. Secondly, I am happily married, thirdly..."
...Oh. What's a smoking bullet to get this done...
...
...
Ah. That's a good one.
...
Page took a break from talking to write down something.
... Does she know everything? He was at first willing to assume she was a person with a rather questionable semblance. If she was truly able to have rapid regenerative properties... he could accept that somewhat. That was until she did this transformation, and now he was questioning exactly what her connections were. They seemed to be rational, and they possessed Aura, so they can't be a Grimm. Or...couldn't have been a Grimm.
Ozpin felt it was highly possible she was made recently. This last commenst had given Ozpin all the information to have a reasonable proof that she was a being created, but then she escaped.
The choice to hide in a forest and hunt Grimm, and their own verbal comment gave him the hope that they could be worked with against her maker, but the existence of the Grimm Reaper being her teacher, and her unidentified "wife"... How did they fit in? They seemed to be important to Page. The largest confusion is that he knew nothing about this at any time in prior years. Not a single bit of information ever reached his ears about this strange being.
"I can't think of anything to directly prove I'm not related to them. I have nothing. But, I have three points for why I should be allowed to live:
1: I care about people. I served a village because of a crippled guard I saw once, and I chose to selflessly protect said village for two years.
2: I have a wife. Not sure if I reiterated that enough.
3:Ozma. I'm having a respectful conversation with you. Wh/y wo/uld I/ do t/hat if I /hat/ed you for w/hat yo/u did t/o/ u/s/?
The final sentence was very badly crossed out in diagonal strokes.
He looked up at the young woman who looked like Salem.
She made an exaggerated shrug.
"Ran out of ink."
"I can accept that."
...
"Anything else?"
"Can I crash here?"
He nodded once.
As he finished, the white drained down her face, the red eyes dimmed, and the blackness flowed as she fell to the floor.
Paige landed with a crack that most likely broke bone, her skin flushed and grey hair strewn where she lay.
Qrow tried to grab her, but she muttered "I'm... crashen here... crow..."and clutched her doll closer.
Ozpin requested that they all leave the room.
They can always talk tomorrow.
...
... And so, they left.