"Are you certain?"
"Positive. No connection to Amber as far as I can tell."
"And you're sure she's not the spring maiden?" Ozpin so hoped this was the case, because if it wasn't, then this meant that either Salem had started making use of magic again, which went against her usual methods and could spell disaster, or Amber's case of having a part of her Maiden Magic stolen wasn't the first time it had been done.
Salem finally playing hard, or the possibility of there being more than four Maidens... He didn't like either outcome.
"I'm sure. Her magic is, to put it blunt, unusual; it's like nothing I've ever seen before. I'll get back to you with more information when I can."
"Of course. Take care." With that, Ozpin hung up, settling into the newly forming migraine. Problems just kept sprouting up all over the place. First the appearance of this mysterious 'Jay,' and now another batch of potential maidens; could The Brothers not take it easy on him just once in his endless life?
Apparently not, because he was getting hit with yet another headache in the form of a video call. General James Ironwood: head of the Atlesian Military, and a chairholder of two seats on the Atlas Council. If there was any saving grace to all of this, it's that James had at least considered asking permission to bring his toys over to Vale for the Vytal festival, instead of leaving it as a surprise.
"Hello again, my friend."
My friend, huh? The man was never quite so informal unless he wanted something, which confirmed Ozpin's unsettled nerves.
"James, we've been over this before-"
"It's not about that." The man quickly clarified, cutting him off mid sentence. "I've accepted that you are the one responsible for your kingdom's security. I just want to talk."
"This is about another questionable idea, then?" Ozpin found no more joy in hitting the nail on the head here than he had when James first suggested assigning most of the security responsibilities for the Vytal Festival over to him. Not being a man to easily give up, this sudden acceptance of a choice he wasn't fancy on meant the General had something else in mind of either equal or greater value.
"Not so much that as opposed to a warning." A warning, huh? Well then, Ozpin was listening. "As you know, with every Vytal Festival, the known leaders of multiple criminal families across all four of the kingdoms like to gather and place their bets."
Quite true. For all their advancement as a society, they'd yet to rise above criminal conduct. Subsequently, the legal system had yet to outgrow corruption as well, so it wasn't much of a shock that crime continued to exist. Greed always prevailed, no matter which side you were on. The bets, though, were fairly tame when held up against other methods the families used to accumulate their wealth, which was why Ozpin slipped a question into the fray.
"As they do every time it starts up again. Although, last I checked, this usually results in a drop in more severe crimes, so why bring this up?" James couldn't be organizing a sting, could he? No no, that was something his friend had long since outgrown. Back in his early days, Ozpin recalled the vigor of which James would fight to take the families down, and it took quite a lot of experience and time before the man realized that ripping apart the families would only result in a period of worse chaos as everyone scrambled to become the next big four.
Nowadays, James simply kept an eye on the groups, only intervening to stop the crimes they committed, while leaving the organizations intact to suffer the loss; controlling damage without breaking the machine.
"Because one of them, Lil'Miss Malachite, is considering ordering a hit on someone within Vale."
Now that made more sense.
"And do you know who this individual is?"
"According to my informant, the plant we have within their organization only encountered the target's first name: Jay."
And naturally, when James got the information, he quickly discovered he couldn't find a single record of the boy anywhere. Ordinarily this wouldn't be a problem as many people go unnamed if living outside the larger cities within the kingdoms, but those ones were usually dead. The moment you make use of anything relating to a bank or subscription service wherever available, your name - at least - is added to the records of the kingdom you used it in. So, naturally, when 'Jay' failed to even bring up one person in Atlas's or Vale's databases, the General grew concerned. If he wasn't on any official records, and one of the big four of the underworld was planning a potential hit, then it meant Jay was someone of significant importance in said underworld.
Well... he wasn't entirely wrong.
"I see..." Now, the question for Ozpin came down to this: should he tell James what he knew?
"I'm aware it isn't in our circle's usual line of work, but I can tell just by your silence that you're concerned about this too."
"I am," Ozpin began, humming along as if he were mulling the idea over, "However, I'm much more concerned with how you plan to handle the situation far more than the identity of this 'Jay' of theirs."
"Nothing more than unobtrusive observation for now." So it had already been decided... Ozpin, while he was happy with James's ability to work quickly, didn't share that admiration with his oftentimes detrimental habit of rushing into things first before discussing the plan of action. He said nothing as his friend went on. "My operatives will be working on gathering rumors mostly; word of mouth from anyone who'd been reported to have worked alongside Jay. I've plans to have one of my men attempt to obtain some more tangible proof later on, however right now I can't afford to stir up the hive."
Of course not: right now Jay had become, against his previous expectations, a hot asset, and not in a good way. To hire a hit in the opening weeks of the Vytal Festival... This did not bode well. Neither of the big four had done something that extreme in years, not since the Mistral scuffle, where it had been reported that Widow Malachite, the only son of Lil'Miss and her youngest child, had unfortunately lost his life.
"If you can, see to it that your prodding remains merely that: prodding." Ozpin delivered his own warning through a hushed tone. Nobody was around to hear, but James would get the meaning behind his unnecessary shift. "I've reason to believe Amber's attacker is somewhere here in Vale, and any sudden acts might have them scampering away."
"I figured as much." Nodding, James visibly tensed his shoulders. "Besides power, there's only one use for the Maiden powers... and even then, just seeking them out proves who orchestrated the assault."
Salem.
Ozpin sometimes wondered if dividing his magic up and splitting it amongst those girls back then was a good idea. Originally, his magic was a simple gift, designed to aid the four girls in their quest to help make the world a brighter place. Sure, they wore their hearts on their sleeves, and were a touch naïve when it came to just how unreachable their goals were, but the determination they'd shown him in their efforts to prove the world was worth fighting for had, poetically speaking, moved his heart.
And then they passed away.
That had been nothing new; Ozpin was more than used to accepting that all his friends and loved ones would die, and so it came as little shock when he'd been sought out by the younger sister of one of them and told of their departure. What had been a surprise was the fact that the little girl was wielding the very same magic he'd granted to her older sister.
At the time, such a thing to him was ruled as pure coincidence, and so he'd assumed the elder sister had learned to pass the magic on to her younger sibling before she left this world. And then, news of other women cropping up began to flow into his ears via word of mouth; women with semblances equal in power and scope as that of the little girl he'd then adopted. By that point he could deny it no more. Somehow, someway, the magic he'd given to the women had begun seeking out others to power after the deaths of their hosts.
His gifts had become parasites, endlessly seeking someone to wield them; someone to feed off of.
A few years later, the little girl began to grow sick, and Ozpin at the time used some of his remaining magic to decipher what was going on, as all the doctors and alchemists couldn't make sense of why she kept growing so cold. The news struck both fear and regret into his soul: her soul was simply too young to handle the powers of winter she bore, and not able to steadily feed from the leaking aura as it would an adult woman, had begun starving. In its ravenous state, the magic abandoned any notions of long-term prosperity in favor of taking what it wanted, what it needed, from the girl.
Within a year, she was dead.
Souls naturally produce and expel energy, and linking that energy to one's physical body in the form of a shield is called 'Aura Unlocking.' Normally, it's achieved under extreme duress, or with the aid of another individual whose aura is already unlocked. The user directs some of their soul's energy into the receiver, and it coaxes and shapes the energy of said receiver into a shield for that person's body. Most hunters use specialized chants or incantations to help focus and relax themselves, making the 'redirection' process easier.
Despite being similar, every person's aura, both unlocked and not, were unique to that person. This mattered greatly because the Maiden Magic of which he'd bestowed actively feeds on that expelled energy - something he neither intended, nor knew up until he delved into trying to save the little girl. For strong souls and auras, the amount taken is negligible and has no effect on the person. But for other weaker or smaller souls, the consequences are lethal. It'll feed in proportion to the soul, but if the magic doesn't get its due, it'll grow violent and take what it needs regardless of the host's safety.
His magic, once a gift he'd given with the best of intentions, actively drained its users before fleeing to similar bodies: those of which it had developed an understanding of - in this case, women - and through the guidance of the dying host's thoughts - the last woman in their thoughts - all for the sake of its own survival and prosperity. Really, it shouldn't have come as a shock; his own soul was parasitic in nature, assimilating and eventually consuming those he came to live in.
Why would his own magic be any different?
James, seeming to have taken his moment of silence at the thought of Salem as permission to continue, straightened his posture before speaking.
"In the wake of this, I will be moving a little ahead of schedule. Expect my men and I to be there within a week."
"Oh?" Not getting his hopes up too quickly, Ozpin treated this news with a pinch of salt. "You're giving up on fighting the council over my decision for security?"
"Don't make me backup on this." James mumbled, returning to a smooth calm after. "I still believe I can provide better security than what Vale's council can offer, but with one of the big four potentially about to act up, I can't take the risk. Think about it: Amber has half of her magic stolen during the year of which Vale is to host the Vytal Festival."
"Yes." With the Fall Maiden's magic corresponding to Vale's Relic Vault, the reasons for this choice in timing were obvious... to him.
"And along with it, White Fang activity is on the rise. Pair that with the increase in thefts orchestrated by Roman Torchwick, and top it off with the sudden breaking of established tradition in the underworld."
"You believe all of this together relates to her?" Seeing James nod cemented the idea.
"Don't you?"
"I'd be foolish if I didn't." Ozpin returned the nod. Make no mistake, he'd well assumed that most, if not all, of the sudden "action" around Vale as of recent had been due to Salem's pawns in some capacity. It was just too much, too soon, to be discredited. Plus, he himself had that little bit of extra info when it came to Jay: the boy knew about Salem.
Now, whether he was just pulling everyone into a trap, or he was some sort of escapee - not impossible, as that was the case many times before for other unfortunate souls - had yet to be fully confirmed.
"In that case, I feel anxious about the idea of bringing the brute of my men into what may be a trap." That was good to hear; if there was anything he could rely on from James, it was his hatred of putting people in unnecessary danger. "And it is for this reason that I've limited my forces to being mostly mechanical; 80 percent, roughly."
Excuse me? Ozpin would have said, had he not been listening with bated breath.
"It's not a major force, merely a deployment of 25,000 mechanical units - 5,000 of which will be our newest models we've had in development for a while - and roughly 500 live soldiers, counting myself."
No, it wasn't even close to as grand as the Atlesian Army in its entirety, but a force that size was still frightening for a people who've only ever seen the odd huntsmen or huntress mixed within the crowd. Usually, hunters wore flashy and playful attire, but Atlas soldiers were always stale, cold, and lifeless in appearance; a testament to their discipline, but also an unnerving sight.
Sighing internally, Ozpin opted to accept it. James, through pure chance alone, had decided not to weave threads of threatening invasion into the minds of the people... to a degree. And it was here that a sneaky little thought invaded his mind.
"James... could you perhaps adjust your numbers to include a majority of your newer tech? Halving the total size of your force and splitting it evenly between live and mechanical."
The General's brow scrunched, confusion apparent as he spoke.
"Why?"
"Because I feel we can treat this a bit more... subtle." Ozpin let a smile show, confident in this cheeky little plot. "You are, of course, simply hoping to use the Vytal Festival as a way to show off your new developments, yes?"
"To an extent..." Losing a bit of his edge, James finally seemed to catch on. "You have something on your mind?"
"I'm thinking we can cull any and all potential fear that the sight of your men might bring by treating this as more of a technology exhibition. You primarily bring along your new works to show off, but balanced out a bit more with your men, this way it looks less like an army, and more like an extra piece of the festivities."
"That's a sound idea... but, and as much as it strains me to say this, the newer models are not yet what I would call 'perfect.' The reason I intended to bring so few is on the off chance malfunctions begin to show themselves."
"Yes, but consider this: if something should go wrong with any of your regular units, it can be seen as an unprovoked attack. I know it sounds strange, but the White Fang's presence has people on edge over here, and they may believe Atlas is intending to get rid of them by force, without considering who may be caught in between. However, should the new ones act up, it'll be ruled off as a mere quirk in the programming, where it's so new. You trade maliciousness for irresponsibility; a far better outcome."
"Act up?" Narrowing his eyes, James let doubt season his voice. "This is Atlas technology we're talking about here. When was the last time we've had a major incident involving malfunctions?"
Ozpin challenged that with a blank expression.
"Rumors of the Dust Mines dug in Atlas are still a major discussion point amongst the faunus population, and are regularly brought up in politics throughout Vale; especially so since the White Fang increased in activity."
"Nearly all of those incidents are due to carelessness in the mining company's conduct." James drew up a sour look. "Believe me, I've brought this up with Jacques constantly over the years, but he keeps weaseling his way out of responsibility through legal technicalities. His lawyers are a nightmare even when burying bodies."
"The common citizen doesn't know about that." Ozpin understood the truth, but that didn't mean everyone else did. "And they rarely have the will or energy to try and learn the truth. Most will pick a common denominator, and place the blame on that."
"True, but last I checked, they mostly place blame on the SDC." James argued, but Ozpin unfortunately had to counter him on that.
"Mostly, as in, not wholly." Adjusting his glasses, Ozpin took up a stern tone. "Plus, it is not the SDC themselves who need to prove their intentions to the people partaking in the Vytal Festival: it is the Atlas Military who are bringing these commonly-perceived-as-faulty machines into the heart of the kingdom."
A few seconds of silence followed, but the victor of their little scuffle had been decided the moment it began. Finally relenting, James stuffed down his pride and agreed.
"Alright. I'll make the necessary changes."
"Thank you."
"But in exchange, I'll need you to have some preparations of your own in place." Ozpin was listening, and James clarified, "With so many in-development machines being moved, I'm wary that some may try to "liberate" a few of them for illegal use. My men are loyal, but everyone has their price; it's just a matter of who can pay."
"You think someone will try to snatch one up?" Ozpin couldn't deny the allure of the prospect; if these new models of... whatever Atlas was working on were as impressive as his friend made them out to be, then he could see how more violent groups may wish to try them out.
"As we've previously discussed, the White Fang is increasing in activity. Not trying to get one of our new models would be a wasted opportunity in their eyes."
"I understand." Ozpin didn't hate having to set things in place, he just hated having to deal with the Vale Council to do so. But if it would keep James from sullying the mood of the Vytal Festival and spooking Amber's attacker into deeper hiding, then he would stomach the nonsense that was the city's elected. "I'll have everything ready for your arrival."
"Thank you."
After a quick farewell, Ozpin simply reclined in his seat, doing his best to try and untangle the mental knots that made the Vale Council tick. They were a picky bunch on a good day, let alone when it came to the stress brought on by events as integral to the kingdom's status as the Vytal Festival. Not all of them were as foolish or disgusting as common consensus made them out to be, but enough of them were that it pulled the entire group down.
Perhaps winding his proposal in such a way as to evoke a sense of 'distraction' might work. Most of the more powerful members constantly complained about how annoying questions and topics relating to the White Fang and faunus equality were in particular. With this in mind, Ozpin theorized that they may cave in to the idea if he were to convince them that allowing Atlas to have their expo would redirect the peoples' focus onto things other than the businesses currently going through scandals - which just so happened to be owned by several council members themselves.
A devious smile overtook his features.
He'd need to write up a proper proposal, sure, but the council were usually merciful when a concept appeared to benefit them most of all. Besides, just because the idea was sound didn't mean it would work out the way they thought it would. Sure, the council would focus more on the Atlas thing in coming press conferences, but there would still be those with integrity within the crowd. They'll surely complain about the distraction not working afterwards, but it would be too late by then.
Sometimes, just sometimes, the council's rash judgment could come in handy.
Author's note
...
Okay, so we have an Ozpin chapter - somebody surely saw this coming at some point.
As you can see, things aren't quite as familiar as everyone might expect. We get a little history behind Ozpin's whole 'making the maidens' thing. Ironwood had his showing here, and it appears one of his men in the underworld got word of Lil'Miss and her potential hit. Along with that, it seems Oz has neglected to tell the full truth of what he knows in regards to Jay.
Oh, and, I guess Ozpin has somehow gotten Ironwood not to show off the entire Atlas Army; meh, somebody's gotta stay back and protect the homefront, so that's cool I guess.
Personally, I feel this chapter is good enough for what it is, even if it doesn't involve anything too exciting yet; next time we'll return to our regularly scheduled program.
Until next time.