Hey all. I've been sick. I still am sick, but at least now it's just aches, pains and a sore throat. The first few days were awful as I got no sleep whatsoever. And I mean none. I stayed awake all night due to pain on the first night. Not a single minute sleep. My health watch even tracked it all.

It took me a while to get back on track. I'm still rough now, as I say, but I'm good enough to force myself to sit down and write.

Cover Art: Solace O'Autumn

Chapter 68

Jaune's family adopted Tyrian as if he were some big, shaggy dog they were convinced could be tamed by the power of love. His sisters hung off stories of his adventures as a huntsman – which he wisely kept to a more legal bent – and his youngest sisters were enthused with his tail, deadly as it was. Tyrian even let the youngest, Amber, hang from it while he flicked it around in the air.

The fact a small prick with the tip could kill any of them wasn't lost on Jaune, and led to many tense moments where he didn't dare move and distract the faunus. It never happened, though. Tyrian was careful.

But it still felt like a warning.

Their music lessons began shortly after. He'd been afraid of them at first. Fearful of how much Tyrian would expect and whether he'd lose his temper when he realised it would take time. Jaune explained that it wouldn't be a quick process.

"Yes. Yes. I understand." Tyrian rolled his eyes and balanced his guitar – a cheap one bought locally – on his lap. "I have studied much online. And from books. But learning without a teacher is hard."

"Right. How much do you know?"

"A few chords."

"Show me."

Tyrian held a few chords with amateurish precision. He had the big three down – G, C and D – but his grip was a little too tight. A beginner mistake. Jaune made sure to show him how to ease up on it.

"That's good. Hold it less tightly. You need to be able to transition from chord to chord and gripping and releasing will slow you down. You don't need to press hard to pinch a fret. That's better."

Once he had them down, Jaune ran him through some incredibly easy tunes. The G, C and D chords were foundational ones used in a lot of popular songs, and learning one of those was a good way both to practice those chords and the movements involved, and also to motivate himself. For a beginner, repeating chords didn't sound all that good, but if the exercise also played a song then it was a big ego boost.

The same applied for Tyrian.

"Music!" the faunus gasped. "I'm playing music!"

"You sure are." A very simple song, one that couldn't really stand as a solo performance since it was more of a backing tune for singing, but it was pleasant to listen to. "I want you to practice this song to get a feel for the three chords. Once you have those down, we'll add another and teach you another song to play with them."

In his head, Jaune meant that to say Tyrian should leave and come back in a week or two. Go do whatever an evil huntsman did. Naturally, the man was too evil to consider that and stayed at the Arc family household practicing guitar. Lavender and Amber – his sister, Amber – would fuss over and listen to him play, while Amber – not his sister – would watch on from a distance.

Tyrian apparently wasn't going anywhere.

In which case, he could make himself useful.

"You want me to train you…?" Tyrian cocked his head, raising one eyebrow. He looked Jaune up and down. "Are you sure…?"

"I'm teaching you the guitar. The least you can do is teach me to defend myself. Or do you think I'll use those skills to escape you?"

"That's not really the main concern here," Tyrian drawled. "I'm more worried I'll break you." He giggled. "I've never had to go easy on someone before. And you're… hmmm… how to say? You're very weak. Very squishy."

He sure was. The problem was the world wasn't going to wait for him to toughen up, not with his big quest on the horizon. He'd initially planned to ask his father to train him, even if it would have been the umpteenth time he'd said no. Since he wasn't home, his only options were Tyrian and Amber. And while he was sure Amber would agree, he had the feeling she would go easy on him. That, or talk him into an early grave.

He needed something, though. Even if his Semblance tied his combat ability to his stats, it wouldn't hurt to know how to fight. He might hit weaker, and move slower, but skill had to count for something.

"I'm not asking you to make me a huntsman. I just want to learn how to defend myself if I need to. Be it from Grimm or other people."

"Hmmmmm." Tyrian stroked his chin. "You are my teacher and it would be bad if you died. And if my music proves insufficient and Salem orders me to fetch you, it would be bad if you had died before I could." It also wasn't like he could grow strong enough to be an actual threat to Tyrian. Not in any short amount of time. "Fine. I shall teach you as you teach me! Don't regret asking!"

He wouldn't.

/-/

He did.

Jaune yelped and scrambled for his practice knife as Tyrian swept his legs out from under him and slapped him down with his tail. Being on the floor wouldn't save him, as Tyrian had made clear time and time again. You only stopped fighting when you won or were killed. "Death" in their spars didn't mean a blade gently held to the neck, either. Tyrian argued that would just make Jaune let it happen to get out of a little pain.

"Better you learn to fight through the pain by experiencing the pain," Tyrian had said. "And you'll train twice as hard to avoid it in the future!"

There was logic there.

Cruel, cold logic.

And like it or not, it was having an effect.

.

Through extreme pain, you gain +1 Constitution.

.

Through constant dodging, you gain +1 Dexterity.

.

Through repeated exercise, you gain +1 Strength.

.

It didn't all come at once but trickled in bit by bit, with an increase in Strength and Dexterity being five times as common thanks to their level being lower. In a matter of five days, he'd gained five points in those two, and one point in Constitution.

As for skill? Well, he liked to think he was better at dodging and hitting. Tyrian was teaching him to use a knife since it was what he used and neither of them had a practice sword. A knife would also make more sense given Jaune was a civilian and would have to carry – and conceal – a weapon on his person.

"Hello!" Amber, the huntress, approached with a tray of baked sweets and drinks. "Mrs Arc made snacks. Do you want to take a break?"

Tyrian removed his foot from Jaune's throat and slid over to steal a pastry. "Mmm. Mrs Arc makes the best food as usual."

"She does, doesn't she?" Amber giggled. "How is he doing?"

"Passable. He won't kill a Grimm but if anyone tries to mug him, they'll have a nasty surprise."

Jaune groaned and pushed himself up. Tyrian's words weren't meant to be demeaning but they sure felt it. Especially when he knew he would be expected to go up against more than just a common thug in a dark alley. He had to be strong enough to best Grimm. To best creatures even stronger than Grimm.

At least he was getting some results. More than he had with Pyrrha, too. It wasn't hard to figure out why, either. Pyrrha had been going easy on him because they were friends. Her training, which had felt harsh at the time, was so much gentler than Tyrian's beatings. As much as he preferred her to Tyrian, the results spoke for themselves.

"He's helping," Jaune said, limping over to take a drink. His throat was raw. "This is helping."

"It's still a very unorthodox way of training someone."

Tyrian shrugged. "It works. Pressure makes diamonds."

"I suppose. Where did you study to become a huntsman anyway? I don't recognise you from Beacon."

"I learned in the wilds."

"Oh. A non-academy huntsman? That's impressive. What Kingdom are you from?"

No one was spared her chattiness, least of all Tyrian, but the crazed faunus put up with it more than anyone else did. Probably because he was insane. Jaune's mother and sisters had quickly realised what a chatterbox Amber could be and had a system for deflecting her onto others when she got too much, but Tyrian put up with it without complaint. Amber, for her part, loved having someone who chatted back, and she didn't seem to realise he was a criminal. To be fair to Tyrian, he hadn't committed any crimes in Ansel.

"I was born and raised in Vacuo. The sands of the desert were my home." Tyrian stole Jaune's pastry before he could get to it and tore into it with sharp teeth. "Mmm. This is so good. I should kidnap Mrs Arc and force her to cook food for my queen and I forever."

Amber giggled at what she obviously though was a joke.

Jaune paled. "Please don't!"

"I've never been to Vacuo," Amber said. "I've heard it's good for holidays."

"It's alright," Jaune said.

"It's hedonistic," Tyrian countered. "Too much sin and vice taints the soul and corrupts the mind."

"Oh. I didn't realise you were religious, Tyrian."

"Of course." The man held a hand to his heart. "I follow the one true faith of our goddess." He eyed Amber strangely. "Do you want to learn about it?"

Jaune shook his head and mouthed "no" over and over again.

But Amber sensed a chance to make a friend. "I'd love to!"

Oh, sod it.

There was no saving her.

"Glorious day!" Tyrian crowed, smiling brightly and taking Amber's hands. The huntress smiled back, sensing nothing bad about the fanatic in front of her. The only thing worse than a fanatical crazy person was a religiously fanatic crazy person. But, to Amber, it was just a chance to talk with someone without them pushing her away. "I shall teach you all there is to know about the glorious goddess!"

Amber would be fine. Probably. Possibly. Potentially.

…

At least she wouldn't be talking my ear off.

/-/

Amber Ambrosius was a lonely woman, one under great pressure, and she one starved of attention and affection. But she was not an idiot. Clumsy, maybe. Naïve, certainly. But she knew things most did not. She knew about magic, about maidens, about the truth of the Grimm.

Which was why her good cheer at being involved in a conversation with Tyrian about his faith took a sour turn about an hour in. It was why her smile, which had started so strong, began to turn sickly and frail.

"—and that's why the goddess is the best ever."

"Yes. Um. Right." Amber eyed her staff, laid beside her, and then Tyrian's knives, on his person. Every instinct called on her to summon a storm and cast him away, then run. But that would mean leaving Jaune and his family in the hands of someone she suspected of being loyal to the great enemy.

Only suspected, though.

Maybe she was wrong.

"And what is the goddess' name?"

"Oh. It's Salem."

Never mind, then. There went that hope. Amber waited for him to strike but he just sat there smiling at her like a happy puppy. She knew what it was like to have people stop listening to you halfway through, and she knew the look on his face. He was happy she'd listened to his religious rant. He was thrilled to not have her cut him off with a vague excuse of being busy elsewhere.

And yet they were enemies.

Unless he didn't know!

"So, um. Your goddess can do magic, right? Like tricks?"

"No. Like your maiden magic."

Okay. Cool. He knew about that, too. Great. Amber began to sweat. Ozpin had filled her head with stories of Salem and the depravities of those loyal to her, and as much as she mistrusted Ozpin, she felt those were true. You had to be pretty depraved to shack up with a monster who controlled the Grimm.

Amber lost her nerve. "Are we going to fight to the death now…?"

Tyrian blinked. "Why would we…?"

"I'm… well… I'm a maiden. You're with Salem. Doesn't that make us… I don't know… sworn enemies?"

"Does it…?"

Amber's voice cracked. "Doesn't it…?"

Tyrian considered her question deeply, eyes narrowing, lips pursing.

Amber sweated.

"I don't think it does," he eventually said. "It's not my job to capture you. That's someone else's job. And I hate their guts," he added, nodding his head. "They're arrogant and rude and think they're better than everyone else. Better than me. Capturing you would just mean they've completed their task."

Was he serious? He looked serious. Amber had spent her life on the run both from Ozpin and from these people and had finally tripped into their clutches. And he was going to ignore her because he didn't like his work colleague? That felt too good to be true.

"Are you saying the only reason you're not attacking me is to spite your own ally?"

"It's not the only reason," he hedged. "Just the main one. Besides, Salem gave her the task of hunting you down and killing you to prove herself. I can't step in and kill you now or she won't have a chance to do that." He sounded offended at the very idea. "And if she's too weak to kill you, then she's too weak to serve the goddess."

"Then are you going to tell her I'm here so she can come try?"

"Nope. Her job is to hunt you down and kill you."

And hunting her down meant having to find Amber herself. Maybe it was foolish of her, but she actually believed Tyrian when he said it. He'd had plenty of chances to kill her and hadn't done anything.

"Where does Jaune fit into this?"

"He's teaching me music."

"That's it? He isn't secretly loyal to Salem or anything?"

"Nope. Salem likes music."

"She does? Ozpin made her sound… um… not so musically inclined."

"It's a new thing," Tyrian admitted, almost bashfully. "After hearing the music of Guitar Cutie, she ordered us to find and capture her so she could play music live for our goddess. Alas, I have failed there."

He dipped his head and looked so miserable that Amber – without thinking – reached out to pat his shoulder.

"There, there. I'm sure you tried your best."

"My best is not good enough," he wept. "It never is. But thank you." He wiped his eyes. "None of us have found Guitar Cutie, but when she heard Jaune play on stage in Vacuo she ordered us to bring him to her instead. He and I struck a deal where he would teach me to play, so that I could become the one my goddess turns to for musical succour."

That was insane.

And thus, logical. At least where Tyrian was concerned.

"I guess that's sweet," she said. "And it's good of you to spare Jaune. And teach him to fight."

Tyrian shrugged. "No one ever asked me to train them before. I was curious. It is… not unpleasant."

"Your friends in Salem's forces don't spar with you?"

"I cannot call us friends," Tyrian admitted. "They are selfish, vain, arrogant. I am the only one who is truly loyal to the goddess. They see her as a means to an end. It infuriates me. Salem allows it because she is wise enough to see through their lies, and clever enough to manipulate them, but it drives me wild."

Amber's common sense told her to back out, run, contact Qrow or Ozpin, summon them here. It'd mean giving up her freedom but the chance to take away someone loyal to Salem surely outweighed her personal wishes. It was the logical answer.

There could be no other option.

"I can be your friend."

Amber Ambrosius was not one for common sense.

Tyrian stared at her. "Really?"

"Yes!" Amber smiled back, ignoring the wild screaming in the back of her head. "I don't have many friends either," she admitted. "People say I talk too much. That I'm too clingy."

"They say that about me too," Tyrian lamented. "That I preach about Salem too much."

"I don't mind that." Amber placed a hand atop his. "I kinda like how passionate you are about following her. Even if I don't agree with it."

"I like your talking," he admitted back, making her blush. "I hate silence."

"Can…" Amber glanced away shyly. "Can I tell you stories about my travels? Can I show you pictures? I have thousands on my scroll but no one ever lets me talk about them all. They're… They're mostly just selfies of me with my horse, but some of them are of views."

"Yes. Can I tell you of the glory of Salem, our eternal queen and goddess?"

"Sure! I'm kinda curious why people would side with her in the first place. I never thought I'd have the chance to just ask one of you. I mean, it's not like you get paid."

"We get paid."

Amber stared. "What…?"

"What?" Tyrian asked. He opened his wallet and flicked out a card. "We get paid. Salem is immortal and compound interest is a thing. Her accounts are huge. The money doesn't matter to me as I follow her out of faith and love, but she still pays me for it."

"But… But what do the Grimm care for money…?"

"Money makes the world go round. Even I know that. Besides, we need to pay for flights, travel, food, accommodation. We don't just kill people to get those. It'd leave a huge trail for Ozpin to follow. This is my personal card and this is my business card for expenses—"

"YOU GET BUSINESS EXPENSES!?"

Tyrian eyed her strangely. "You don't?"

"NO! Next you'll tell me you get health insurance as well!"

"We do have a doctor on our team. He does dentistry as well as surgery." Tyrian smiled, revealing his pearly white teeth. "Nice, eh? He does whitening as well."

Amber stared.

Tyrian noticed her dismay and gasped. "You don't get dental care or healthcare?"

Amber whimpered.

"And Ozpin calls himself the good guy!" Tyrian scoffed. "For shame! Next, you'll tell me you don't get paid time off or Christmas work parties. Salem is very strict about those, you see. Tells us that she can't afford for us to lose efficiency by being overworked. The parties are a little out the way, what with them being held in the Grimmlands, but she always makes sure to have some food on hand. The last one was a big steak dinner. Does Ozpin hold good-guy-parties as well? I've always been curious."

"The only employment benefit I got was these stupid maiden powers."

"Oh…" Tyrian winced. "Sorry…?"

"Shut up and tell me more about how great Salem is."

"You've no idea how long I've waited to hear those words!"

It's a little small (that's what she said) but I'm still sick. At least I got something out. I'll be forcing myself to write through the week. Chapters that were missed will be pushed back. I.e. it'll be "Sister Complex" this Tuesday since I missed that one.

Next Chapter: 27th April

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