Yo! Onto Part 3 of this story! We're making good progress. Probably not even halfway through, but we ARE advancing, however steadily.
Start Chapter 41
Start Part 3
Jaune's only been gone a few weeks, but even so, he had almost managed to forget just how horrid Evernight truly is.
The violet spires of crystal that jut out of the deadened earth tower over the landscape, and the dark clouds that perpetually hang above them do not allow the light of the shattered moon to peak through and illuminate the barren landscape.
Jaune stares out of the window of their long-range bullhead without much energy, even as he looks over, towards the comatose passenger they're carrying with them back to Evernight.
There, laid out on one of the benches, is Ozpin.
He's barely there; pale as all hell and breathing erratically. The fact that he's still alive after their long journey back to Evernight surprises him.
Hell, the fact that Ozpin is alive at all surprises him. He'd have assumed killing him would be the end of things, but instead, Tyrian had brought him back alive.
It troubles him, even if, as their bullhead touches down on Evernight's landing pad, his thoughts clear, and focus in on something entirely different.
Cinder's here.
And he's failed his mission.
It had never been a manner of if he would fail it. He had always been doomed to do so. But even so…
He shakes his head. Such thoughts will do him no good at the moment. Instead, he stands as their ship comes to a stop, and the engine shuts down.
Time to go.
"We're hoooooome!" Tyrian calls out from the cockpit, giggling to himself. "Ah, how I've missed the scent of sulfur in the air! Jauney boy, be a dear and carry old Ozpin for me."
Jaune grumbles out under his breath, but now that he's back in Evernight, he needs to play along a lot more closely. It helps that he's never particularly liked Ozpin, which lets him sling the man over his shoulder – he's surprisingly light – and move them out of the bullhead.
The scent of sulfur hits him immediately, just as Tyrian had said. It's intense enough that his face scrunches up, but he ignores it as best he can as he steps in behind Tyrian and follows him up to the wide double doors that lead into Evernight proper.
"Oh, I'm so very excited!" Tyrian claps his hands together. "I'm sure the mistress will reward us most heavily for our efforts! Oh, well, she'll reward me at least." He looks over at Jaune, and sneers. "If you're lucky, perhaps she'll not punish you too harshly?"
Jaune clicks his tongue and steps by him, ignoring his jabs entirely as he places one arm on one of the double doors, and uses every ounce of strength in his body to push it open himself.
The halls beyond are dry and dead. That's the thing that ultimately hits Jaune. He'd forgotten just how empty this place feels; like it's been a century or more since it has seen anyone at all.
Yet no, this place still serves the living.
Even if living is perhaps an overstatement.
No sooner has he had this thought than does a spiral of black magic coalesce in front of him, and from out of the inky darkness, Salem emerges. Her red eyes glow in the low light, like those of a cat, and the smile on her lips strikes him as false.
"Ah, Jaune of Arc." She looks to his shoulder, where Ozpin is barely hanging on. "And Ozma, I see. Well done, the both of you, on retrieving him."
Salem extends her hand, and Ozpin begins to float off of Jaune's shoulder. He doesn't stop her, and a moment later, Salem balls her hand into a fist.
Ozpin disappears, presumably to some other part of the castle.
There's a lot that Jaune wants to say to Salem in that moment. He wants to ask her why he hadn't been let in on what their actual mission in Atlas had apparently been, why she had sought to trick him so, what reason she had to send him at all.
But he has no energy for such. He'd not had the time to truly relax in weeks, and he hasn't so much as showered in days. He will speak more with Salem at some point, but for now, he's going to cool down.
That, of course, relies on Salem dismissing him.
"Young Cinder will be thrilled." Salem turns back to him with an amused expression. "She has been missing your presence during her training. She claims that while I do an adequate job at instructing her, you are far superior as a teacher."
Jaune's not really sure what he should be feeling hearing that. He actually does feel a small swell of pride. Even if the thought of Cinder learning from Salem, of all people, is a little ridiculous.
He can't help but feel like Salem's teachings won't really apply to Cinder very much. Perhaps when she'd become a maiden in the future, Salem had something to teach her. But now…
Well, it doesn't matter, he supposes.
"Ah, here she comes now."
Jaune's eyes widen, and he turns to look down the corridor, where, sure enough, Cinder is coming running his way with a wide smile on her face.
And yet, the smile that had been building on Jaune's own falters.
Because Cinder doesn't look good. Not at all.
Her left arm is in a cast, and her face is covered in bandages. There's a hobble in her step that suggests she's moving through an injury, and now that he pays more attention, she's not going nearly as quickly as he knows she can.
Regardless, he meets her halfway as she smiles up at him, and he kneels down to offer her a hug.
She seems briefly caught off guard by that, almost flinching away from him. Jaune had forgotten just how much she'd gone through in that moment; the trauma that she carries with her that had been inflicted upon her by her 'adopted' family.
"How are you?" He tries to segue off of the somewhat awkward moment, and Cinder seems to appreciate that.
"I'm okay." She smiles. "I've been training."
"I can see that." He tries to stay positive as he looks at her wounds. "How did you get so injured?"
"Uhm, well…" Cinder looks a bit embarrassed. "I messed up."
"Really?"
"Mm. I was training with Ms. Salem." Cinder looks up at the eldritch woman, who gives a calm smile that belies the evil she carries within. "She was summoning Grimm for me to fight, when all of a sudden, the Grimm got a lot stronger, and faster! I was nearly overwhelmed, but Ms. Salem saved me."
Jaune's expression shifts. He thinks hard on what Cinder's just said.
"Of course, I did." Salem chuckles, but the sound is false. "After all, you made but a single mistake. And it would not do to punish someone to severely for such. I am only apologetic that I was not able to clear them off of you sooner."
Jaune puts it together in the next moment, and his blood runs cold.
The Grimm that Salem had summoned suddenly getting stronger? Her not being fast enough to stop them? Such is ludicrous. Salem is perhaps the single most powerful woman – if she can still be called that – the world has ever known. She could with a flick of her wrist command the Grimm, or with another simply delete them outright.
The idea that she'd not been able to save Cinder in time…
No… she'd chosen not to save Cinder before she'd been injured.
'After all, you made but a single mistake. And it would not do to punish someone to severely for such.'
He looks into Salem's eyes, and catches her meeting his gaze.
There's a glint of amusement in her eye, one that has fury filling Jaune's breast. She had kept the punishment light this time, but it was a clear warning.
Fail again, and next time, I'll let them kill her.
"But I'm sure young Cinder has been waiting for you to return." Salem says, looking away. "I will leave the two of you to speak alone. But Jaune of Arc?"
He's expecting a warning; more direct this time.
"Come and see me in the dining hall after you've finished talking and cleaned yourself up." Salem says instead. "I wish to brief you on the situation, as well as on the role I will be assigning to you for the foreseeable future."
And with that cryptic message, Salem disappears in a burst of black smoke.
/
In the end, Jaune and Cinder end up spending the next few hours together. For the first thirty or so minutes, Jaune just listens to Cinder telling him about what she's learned from Salem – which is, to his annoyance, mostly good advice – and some of the techniques she's been trying to nail down. Even at only fourteen years old – going on fifteen, now – she could likely already match the level of most of the first years at Beacon the year he'd gone. Team RWBY, and JNPR – minus himself – being perhaps the only exceptions.
He's proud of the progress she's made, as much as he wishes it had not come about under such dire circumstances. Because the truth of the matter is that the strength Cinder is trying to obtain is the result of her own fear.
She had been raised as a slave, after all, no matter what the Madame had called her. And she had, thusly, begun to think of herself as having value only in what she could provide.
She does not understand that she has inherent value, no matter how much Jaune gently urges her in that direction.
Perhaps the time for gentle urgings has left the building, then.
Still, he can think about that later. They'll have plenty of time to get back into the proverbial swing of things after he's gotten a shower, and gone to meet with Salem. Honestly, before she'd pointed it out to him, he hadn't even really thought about cleaning himself off. Now, as he shucks off his very dirty clothes and throws them in the hamper – which always seems to be empty, despite the fact that he knows no one does laundry here – he cannot help but be struck by how horrid he smells.
So, yes, he will give Salem that and that alone.
He showers, shaves – his face had just been so itchy – and dresses in something a little more laidback. It's a long sleeve shirt, with some nice pants that he'd bought in Atlas before they'd made their ignominious exit.
Despite the bad memories, the pants fit rather well.
So, he makes his way to the dining hall, where Salem always holds audiences. He supposes the room does have a certain pizazz to it, and that that might be the reason why Salem never actually deviates from the place at all when it comes to times like these.
He knocks on the heavy double doors, just to make sure Salem's actually there, and is met with a call of, "Enter."
It never ceases to unnerve him the way that the doors open on their own.
"Jaune of Arc." Salem nods to him from her seat at the head of the table, directly opposite the entrance. "Please, sit."
The chair at his end of the table is pulled away by magic, and he does just that, sitting himself down. One might think he's being overly rash, sitting down in a seat that Salem has just shown the complete ability to control, but frankly, if Salem had wanted him dead, she'd have done it already.
"Now. I do believe we have much to discuss, regarding the happenings that went on in Atlas. You must have questions."
He does.
First, however…
"Cinder's injuries; were those because I failed."
"Why, I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." Salem feigns innocence. "Cinder was simply injured in a training when–"
"Alright." He sighs out. "I'll take your word for it."
"You would do well not to interrupt me when I am speaking." Salem warns him, and though he doesn't want to, he nods his head. "Good. Do not make such a mistake again."
"Alright. Was the plan always to kidnap Ozpin?"
"It was."
"Why lie to me, then?"
"I believed that telling you of the true plan would be inadvisable." Salem speaks calmly. "I was correct in assuming that you would move to defend the lives of innocents, and whilst you were doing that, that you would likely cause a stir. That stir could then be used to get Ozpin off the playing field. And without anyone suspecting a thing until it was already far too late to act."
Jaune can't quite deny that. He had, after all, accidentally kicked the proverbial hornets' nest back at Amity Colosseum – although it's more like the hornets' nest he kicked a year ago suddenly found him – and given Tyrian the perfect chance to snag Ozpin out from under Hawthorne's security, stretched far too thin to accommodate the entirety of Atlas with incidents taking place all over the city.
From there, they'd stolen a bullhead out of Mantle, and been out before anyone had been the wiser.
Though there are a few things that Jaune's curious about when it comes to Ozpin.
"Then what is the plan with him? Keep him here under lock and key?"
"Not quite. Ozma is no fool; he cannot be kept under traditional guard. He would simply kill himself and allow his soul to pass to his next reincarnation. After that, he would retake control of the world through his usual network of allies, and everything would be back as it was. No. He must instead be kept drugged and sedated, never allowed the autonomy to do anything but exist."
Jaune hums. "He'll die eventually. You can't keep a human being in a medically induced coma forever."
"Oh, believe me, I am well aware. The drugs coursing through his system will eventually kill him. In truth, his current incarnation is quite old already. But Watts is more than skilled enough to prevent Ozpin from ending his own life for a few years, perhaps even half a decade or so if we're lucky. His aura will ultimately be his undoing, for it will work to keep him alive far longer than a human without one would survive such an ordeal. And during that time, we will not need to worry over him… getting in the way."
"And just what is it you're trying to prevent him from getting in the way of?"
"I thought that would've been obvious." Salem chuckles. "That would be the work of one General Hawthorne, who is, without knowing it, playing directly into my hands. I haven't even had to lift a finger, and yet already, the winds of war are brewing in Atlas, stretching all the way to Menagerie. Another faunus war. During the last, I was a step away from obtaining the Relic of Creation, before one of your ancestors, Joan of Arc, gave her life to stop me."
Jaune's eyes widened. "Another Arc?"
"She served under Ozma directly. At the time, she was a member of what would be the equivalent of Team STRQ. She was a stalwart warrior, and a terrible annoyance. I was rather glad to be rid of her."
That… huh. Jaune had never heard of Joan of Arc. Then again, from what his father had told him, he had a smattering of aunts, uncles, and cousins all over the world. So perhaps not knowing one of fifty people isn't that much of a shock after all.
"So… you plan to let Hawthorne continue on unimpeded?"
"Why of course. He is, after all, doing exactly what I would be doing, only without my being involved. And the entire reason we moved to get rid of Ozma is that had we not removed him, he would've been able to deal with that whole Atlas business with little trouble."
That… Jaune isn't terribly certain how that would've gone. "How?"
"He would have had Hawthorne assassinated, of course."
Jaune's wide eyes betray him, and Salem laughs, full and dark.
"Did you think him above such? I suspect you would not be the first. Yet tell me, do you really believe that someone who has spent so very much time protecting this world would let one roach of a man set its progress back so far? His hands are far dirtier than you seem to believe. It would not be his first political assassination, let me assure you. And it would not have been his last."
Jaune doesn't have as much trouble believing it as Salem might think. He'd seen what Ozpin had been willing to do to try and prevent the power of the Fall Maiden falling into Salem's hands. How he'd risked Pyrrha's life and ultimately gotten her killed.
It's part of the reason that Jaune doesn't feel too bad about Ozpin being kept here to rot away for years.
Another question comes to him, and while it's a bit less focused than the others, he can't help but ask it.
"Why tell me this?"
Salem considers the question a moment, humming out below her breath.
"You fascinate me, in truth. It is refreshing to have someone here in Evernight who I know without any doubt actively desires my end. Neither of us need to tell falsehoods around one another. I can be entirely honest with you."
It's such an unexpected thing for Jaune to hear that he's visibly taken aback, and Salem laughs out loud at his expression.
"My, but you look like you've been informed of a most unfortunate truth. Did you think I was unaware of your hatred for me, perhaps?"
"…No, I didn't. I don't think I'm very good at being subtle."
"You are not." Salem answers. "Even if you were, emotions I can read quite well without you even having to display them. And yet, perhaps that is why I am so drawn to you. Why I have kept you around all the same."
"…Drawn to me?"
"Oh? Intrigued? Wondering if I like my men tall and altruistic?"
Jaune recoils away, and Salem laughs, full and thick.
"If it helps, I would say that it is more that I enjoy playing with you. Watching you try to scheme your way past my designs. Watching those kind eyes fill with hate."
Jaune's jaw clenches.
"How are you… like this?"
"Hm?"
"Just…"
"Do you mean 'evil'?"
He doesn't respond, but it seems that silence serves as enough of a 'yes' for Salem.
And in response to his question, she only laughs. It is a hollow thing.
"Live a hundred thousand years, and try not to let it change you."
It is far from the worst excuse Jaune has ever heard, even if it doesn't actually excuse anything that Salem's done. Jaune has a unique insight into what she's saying, however, having been the Rusted Knight, having lived two decades away from civilization.
In that time alone, he had nearly broken. If he had lived another twenty, or forty, or sixty?
He's not sure what might have happened to him.
And that scares him.
Ozpin – or Ozma, he supposes – has had the benefit of getting a new host every fifty or so years, whose influence has likely prevented him from losing his mind. Salem, on the other hand…
"Now, onto the main matter I called you here to discuss." Salem announces, changing the subject entirely. "Soon, Cinder will be departing on her chosen mission."
"What? What's a 'chosen mission'?"
"It is something I give to all those I mean to bring into my inner circle. It was the same with Hazel, Watts, and Tyrian. In fact, I do believe a few of those members you fought back during your time atop Amity ended up encountering Tyrian on his chosen mission. Tyrians was to annihilate the remnants of the underground arena that had enslaved him for a decade of his life. He traced them to the bowels of Vacuo, and… removed them. He encountered both Summer Rose and Raven Branwen on that particular mission. Afterwards, he returned, his loyalty and fervor proven, and I brought him fully into the fold."
"Why would you care about annihilating an underground fighting arena?"
"I did not." Salem clarifies. "But Tyrian did. That was the mission that he chose. I ask that each of my enforcers take up a mission to prove that they are ready to serve me. It is something they must be entirely devoted to; a task they will either see finished, or die trying. Now, it is young Cinder's turn. Whatever it is she desires to do, you will help her do it. Normally, I would not allow an accompaniment, but I think this might serve as a test for the both of you."
It's both surprising and not. He and Cinder are sort of a singular package around Evernight, in fairness, but at the same time, with everything they've been discussing…
"Why would you let me do that?"
"When you could simply take Cinder, and run off into the sunset the moment you were not caught under my watch?" Salem echoes his exact thoughts. "Why indeed? You'll simply have to find out, won't you."
He doesn't like the sound of that at all.
"I will inform Cinder of this in the coming days. For right now, however, rest and recuperate. Think on what it is you wish to do. Cinder will have to do the same."
"…Will you be entrusting me with one of these?"
"This is yours." Salem says, without much in the way of explanation. "This is, I will be forthright with you, a test. And I am curious to see whether you shall succeed… or fail."
And that failure would, inevitably, be meted out on Cinder.
He'd failed the last time.
He cannot fail again.
He refuses.
And if you're forced yet again to choose between Cinder and your friends? His mind asked him.
Then I'll find another way. He answers; resolute.
"Right then," Salem clears her throat. "You are dismissed, Jaune of Arc. Rest, recuperate, and be ready to assist Cinder in whatever it is she desires to do."
He nods his head, even as he stands from his position at Salem's table, and turns away.
But as he pushes open the wide double doors, and they begin to creak shut behind him, he gazes once more back through the gap, where he can see Salem, staring out of the many windows.
Her vision is set on the black horizon.
Not on the future, but on the end of all things.
End Chapter 41
Fully Jaune chapter. I think that's the first one of those? Would have to check.
Anyways, we're getting some insight on what Part 3's Jaune section will be; Cinder's chosen mission. We'll be finding out more on that in the coming chapters.
Might be on break next week. Returning to classes after break and might be swamped. Will have to see. Expect no chapter next week, and be pleasantly surprised if there is one.
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