Capítulo 759: 101
Chapter 102:
Ruby's head was feeling more than a little fuzzy. She wasn't sure if it was mental fatigue, some kind of side effect of drawing upon the Aura of the world so much, or if it was simply the result of being at Ground Zero for multiple powerful lightning strikes. All she knew at the moment was that thinking was hard.
She was glad that she had Jaune's back to rest on, as he carried her back towards the cliffs. After the initiation, Ruby had learned that she had, more or less, led her friends astray, in a sense. Their designated return point had been about a half-mile east of the chasm, where they'd fought the Orochi. At that point, there was a lift system that allowed students who entered the Emerald Forest to ascend, without needing to make the tiring climb up the cliffs.
She was certainly glad for that lift now. As it was, Jaune would have had a hard time hauling her up the cliffs, in her addled state. The cloak trailing behind her betrayed just how badly worn down she was, seeming more holes than cloth at this point.
As it had turned out, merging her Aura with the world's didn't mean that she could wield that power in place of her Aura. Instead, just as it was with her Aura and Akaibara's, the resulting merge was a blend of her Aura and the world's Aura (and her sword's). It was infinitely more potent than her Aura on its own, but she was still using her Aura in some sense.
As she had learned the hard way, repeated executions of the Raikoken had the consequence of eating away her Aura considerably. Still, practice was necessary, and Ruby had pressed herself to continue, in order to fully internalize the sensation of drawing upon the world's Aura as much as possible.
"And to think," commented Weiss, "we came out here with you because we were worried about future kidnapping attempts. It certainly is a good thing we were out here with you, after all."
"Thanks," said Ruby softly, resting her cheek against Jaune's shoulder, struggling to keep from falling asleep.
Jaune had offered to use his Aura to replenish Ruby's. But she had declined. As wonderful as his gift was, it was best she didn't get too dependent on it. Besides, Jaune needed to reserve it for practicing with Crocea Mors, against Kyo, later. More importantly...Jaune's back was really comfy.
The lift was about as simple a mechanism as such things got. A broad platform, propelled by gravity-Dust, it descended down the side of the cliff to land in front of them, called down by Weiss' scroll. After boarding it, the lift conveyed them smoothly back up the side of the cliff, before sliding into its resting place at the top, allowing them to disembark.
To their surprise, Team RASP found that they'd accumulated something of an audience.
Ozpin and Glynda stood before them, the former smiling in his usual, enigmatic manner, while the latter was clearly struggling to keep a straight face, though which emotions Glynda was restraining were a mystery. Ruby was too tired to try and sense it for herself. Beside them, Kyo's emotions didn't require any extra effort on Ruby's part to discern, the proud smile on his face speaking volumes. Next to him, Amber sat in her wheelchair, her eyes meeting Ruby's with a look of awe. Behind them were arrayed the members of RYNB, wearing amazed expressions of their own. They were accompanied by CPPR. Even Ciel appeared to have taken a break from her work, assisting Winter, to watch the spectacle.
"I guess we put on a bit of a show," noted Pyrrha.
"There was indeed quite a lot of curiosity about what was going on," said Ozpin with a chuckle. "There was a much larger audience. However, when the clouds dissipated for the final time, we determined that you were on your way back and dismissed most of the rest of the students. I believe most of them think it was simply an unusual weather pattern, as none of them were aware that you four were out there."
"Thank God for small favors," said Weiss.
"But this is totally cool!" cheered Nora. "Ruby! You and I are totally compatible. We should do combo attacks!"
"Now that I think about it, that's not too bad an idea," mused Jaune.
After all, if Ruby could call down lightning on demand, then one of the better uses of it might be channeling that power into Nora, enabling her to fight at a higher level.
"Just promise me you'll never try that indoors, and you'll have my blessing," said Ren firmly.
"Promise," said Nora cheerfully.
"What do you think, Ruby?" asked Jaune, glancing at his girlfriend, only to see Ruby already nodding off against his shoulder.
Kyo laughed. "It would seem that Ruby-chan's worn herself down. You may want to lend her some help, Jaune-kun, so that she's at least lucid enough to make it to dinner."
"She turned me down, earlier," Jaune noted.
"She tends to underestimate how tired she makes herself," said Kyo. "Just a little bit will be fine, so she's not falling asleep at the table."
"All right then," said Jaune, taking a deep breath, gently Projecting his Aura into her, using the arms he had looped under her thighs as the point of contact. The white glow of his Aura flowed in to merge with the red of Ruby's own.
Behind Kyo, Amber, and the Teachers, Yang abruptly stiffened, her hands closing into fists, her jaw clenching as she stared intently at Jaune, watching him like a hawk. Her reaction was small, overall, but it didn't go unnoticed by Ren. Kyo likewise angled his head slightly in her direction, raising an eyebrow.
After a few seconds of channeling his Aura into Ruby, Jaune let out a breath, allowing the light of his Aura to subside. After that, Ruby's eyes blinked open, looking clearer. "Huh?" she grunted, rubbing her eyes. Looking up, she became more cognizant of her audience, their presence having been mostly lost on her earlier. When she did, she blushed fiercely.
Kyo laughed softly. "Sleep comes later, Ruby-chan. Jaune-kun still has his training with me, after this. You're obviously too worn down to participate, but you should at least stay awake for it. Not to mention that you're going to be hungry, by the time we finish, so you should be up to feeding yourself."
"Okay," said Ruby, yawning. She nestled her head back against Jaune's shoulder, nuzzling him affectionately, rather than sleepily. "Carry me?"
"No problem," said Jaune with a fond chuckle, returning the gesture.
Yang relaxed slightly. However, she still continued to watch Jaune intently, frowning darkly.
"Anyway, let's get training," said Jaune, before looking at Ozpin and Glynda. "Um...sorry, Professors. Was there something you wanted?"
Ozpin chuckled, shaking his head. "No, we merely wished to observe. Now that you are back, we have no reason to tarry any longer. Come, Glynda."
Ozpin sauntered back towards Beacon Tower, Glynda following along behind him. They all watched the teachers go, before deciding to make their way to the sparring ring.
Mercury groaned, thrusting his arms upward, stretching them high over his head, while arching his back, making his spine pop. Below the level of the table, his legs stretched out to the fullest extent possible, the mechanical limbs mimicking the movement of flesh and blood ones, even if there was nothing for them to feel.
Mercury grimaced sourly. The prosthetics he'd been given in place of his originals were pathetic, consisting of little more than articulated joints, a couple of pistons simulating muscles and tendons, and a pair of curving slats in place of feet. As such pieces of tech went, they were as basic as basic got, which was entirely the point, he supposed. Considering who he was, no one was willing to let him wear a pair of such devices that could be remotely weaponized. Mercury had been able to tell that they had even been deliberately weakened, designed to fall apart if he exerted them too hard, completely stymieing any plans for getting by, even with his basic skills.
Basic as they were, the prosthetics carried only the most rudimentary of sensor relays, allowing Mercury to sense the distribution of his weight and balance, but little else. Compared to his previous ones, which had been so sensitive they might as well have been his flesh-and-blood legs, these were a huge step down, leaving him feeling more than a little numb below the thighs.
Even worse, the bland, orange prison uniform didn't look good on him at all. The fact that the legs had been cut, leaving his prosthetics exposed to the world, only made it worse in his eyes. He supposed that the humiliation was an extra bonus to those who'd had him in custody. Part of Mercury couldn't believe that he'd actually been turned over to the police. They were the military police, but still cops to his mind. Technically, Beacon wasn't really a prison, so it wasn't though Mercury could be kept there. At least Emerald had a proper excuse for being confined to the Academy's infirmary. However, Mercury supposed that, in his case, it was either turn him over to the authorities in Vale, or hand him over to Ironwood's custody. Apparently, they had decided that Vale had jurisdiction in this case, and figured that, without his prosthetics, Mercury wasn't enough of a threat to warrant Atlesian hospitality...which he supposed was true. However, it still seemed like an odd idea. Given what he knew, he could cause quite a bit of damage, simply by sharing that knowledge.
Of course, it was a double-edged sword. Even as Salem operated to bring down the Kingdoms, she was largely working to keep her hand hidden. That was why, despite how powerful she supposedly was, she was always using agents and proxies. Sure, the knowledge that such an existential threat presented would be enough to drive lesser people to madness. It could give rise to chaos and disorder, bringing the Grimm down on the Kingdoms in droves.
Or it could be the spark, that single catalyst that brought all of humanity together. Salem wanted to keep the world divided, the Kingdoms separate. If possible, she wanted them to mistrust one another, be ready to go to war with one another. However, the emergency of a common enemy, her, might wind up uniting them instead.
It was strangely fitting really. Two mortal foes, both struggling to keep their conflict secret for opposing reasons. Ozpin wanted to keep the war with Salem secret in order to keep the revelation of her existence from provoking fear and panic. Salem wanted to keep their fight hidden to avoid the possibility of bringing them together against her. One feared humanity's worst qualities, the other feared their best. Complete opposites from beginning to end.
Which was the reason he knew to keep his mouth shut. If he spilled the beans on Salem, Mercury was sure that her reprisal would be...unpleasant...to say the least. Though it appeared to be a moot point. This was actually the first time he'd seen the inside of an interrogation room since being taken into custody. Ozpin must have said or done something to keep him from being questioned, though Mercury wondered what the military thought about that.
Of course, knowing that, it made him wonder just who he would be talking to today. Perhaps Ozpin had finally decided to come down, or send one of his people down, to find out what Mercury knew. Or maybe the military's investigators had actually decided to question him, with or without Ozpin's approval.
He could have done without the waiting though. It was a classic interrogation tactic, of course. Throw the suspect in an empty room, let them cool their heels for a few hours, give them a chance to rile up their fear and anxiety, all before grilling them for information.
Mercury smirked. Yeah, like that's gonna work. Dad trained me to handle way worse than this. I might take a nice nap.
He was considering letting his eyes close when the door swung open, which surprised him a little. By his estimate, he'd been in the room for a good half-hour at least, but not long enough for him to really feel like he'd been waiting.
"My apologies," said the woman in a curt voice as she entered her voice of a lower register than most women, but still undeniably feminine, a good bit deeper and rougher than Cinder's sultry purr. "I hadn't meant to keep you waiting. But my arrival was delayed."
For his part, Mercury had to keep himself from whistling in appreciation.
The woman was tall and slender, her arms and legs both seeming slightly too long for her frame. Her stomach was slightly sunken, making Mercury suspect that, if her top wasn't on, he'd be able to count her ribs through her skin. Yet she moved with a lithe grace that made her seem anything but awkward, carrying herself in such a way that suggested she was anything but weak.
He estimated her to be a little bit older than he was, but not by much. The fair skin of her face was taut, with no signs of wrinkles, slightly sunken cheeks meeting a jawline that angled almost to a point. Her pale-gray, almost white, hair was combed to the left side of her face, falling down to the level of her earlobe, her right ear unhidden by hair, a black jewel mounted on a gold earring, was set into the lobe of said ear.
Her thin, almost spindly, build was highlighted by her choice of clothes. Tight, but not skintight; a single-breasted black suit-jacket, with black lining was drawn closed over a black dress-shirt, hugging tightly to the contours of her chest and stomach...which weren't substantial to begin with, almost flat enough to make Mercury wonder if he'd mistaken the woman's gender. They were complimented by the equally tight black dress-pants she wore, the cuffs resting just above a pair of black dress-shoes.
But it was her eyes that drew Mercury's attention, and appreciation the most. Like her hair, they were gray, a few shades lighter than the gray of his own eyes. Narrow and slightly angled, it gave her a hard, chilling glaze. But it was a gaze that Mercury recognized all too easily.
It wasn't just her eyes. It was the way she carried herself; perfectly balanced, poised, ready to move at a second's notice. Most people wouldn't have noticed it, but this woman could go from what would have looked like a casual posture to attack in a fraction of a second, if that.
Well well welllll...a fellow traveler, thought Mercury, smirking at the sight of this woman. She might have looked like some overdressed secretary, with a fetish for black on black on black, but she was definitely his type of person...a killer...an assassin.
"I gotta say, if it's for the chance to meet with you, sweetheart, I'd say that it was worth the wait," said Mercury.
The woman's lips curled up in the faintest beginning of a smile, before returning slightly to neutral. Mercury found himself warming up to this woman pretty fast. That hadn't been a slip of someone briefly giving into mirth, nor any kind of lapse in control. It had been a smile, however brief, of acknowledgment. It seemed that this woman liked what she saw almost as much as he did.
"Mercury Black," said the woman, her tone clipped and businesslike, "son of Marcus Black, if I'm not mistaken." She pulled out the chair from the other side of the table, settling into the seat without bothering to scoot it back in, artfully crossing her left leg over her right, folding her hands in front of her, resting them on her lap, back straight.
"Guilty as charged," said Mercury flashing her a brief grin.
The woman pulled out her scroll, paging through a few files. "Your father was fairly well known, in our circles. I find it a little odd that your footprint is practically nonexistent."
"You might say I've been employed long-term, for my first contract," said Mercury. "My current employers are big fans of keeping things low key. So I haven't been able to get established yet."
"Oh?" The woman raised an eyebrow. "Your first assignment? What does that say about your father?"
"That he's dead," said Mercury. "Killed him myself."
"So you've been baptized," observed the woman.
"Yep," agreed Mercury. "Jackass took my legs and my Semblance with him though, so it ain't been all sunshine and roses."
"Yes...it was mentioned that your father had that particular quality," mused the woman. "It was one of the reasons he was so popular for contracts on Huntsmen and Huntresses."
"Hypocrite," grumbled Mercury. After all, it had been Marcus who had said that a Semblance was a crutch, and had taken Mercury's away in order to keep him from relying on it. But Marcus was perfectly fine relying on his own Semblance.
"Perhaps," said the woman, canting her head slightly. "It is not my place to judge, of course."
"Uh huh," said Mercury dismissively. Then he paused. "You know, you sure know quite a bit more about me than I thought people might know. But I don't know anything about you. Any chance I could get your name? Or are you comfortable with me calling you Sweetheart for the rest of our conversation?"
To his pleasure, the woman smiled again, the expression lingering just a tiny bit longer than it had the last time. "Well, there is only so much you need to know right away. But I suppose it would be a courtesy to divulge my name to you, since I have yours already. I am Eira...Eira Vass."
Pretty appropriate, thought Mercury as he assessed her.
Eira looked at her scroll again. "We have analyzed the prosthetics you were equipped with before. I must admit that we were quite impressed. They are advanced well beyond anything even Atlas is currently capable of. I hope you get the chance to convey our compliments to their designer."
Despite the compliment, Mercury found himself swallowing a grimace. Watts was insufferably smug at the best of times, never missing a chance to drone on about what an unappreciated genius he was. When they'd been given his virus, Watts had conveyed the instructions to install it on the CCT, along with how to use it, which had been full of smug assurances about it being so simple that even a "childish neophyte" like Cinder would still be capable of making use of it. If this ever reached his ears, his head would probably swell to such a size that it wouldn't fit through the doors to Salem's castle.
"I'll see what I can do," he said levelly.
Something occurred to him, and Mercury's eyes narrowed. "You know, this seems less like an interrogation...and more like a job interview."
Eira smiled again, this time the smile carrying a sinister edge, one that got Mercury's heart pumping. It was a smile that meant she was about to talk business. "Well...now that you bring it up, we are certainly aware that you are most likely not in a position to divulge any particulars about your employer or your arrangement with them. However, my employer wished for me to inquire into the basic nature of your present contract...namely, are you exclusive for the duration of your employment...or are you permitted the freedom to take...side jobs, as it were?"
"That's...tricky," said Mercury, his eyes rolling upward pensively.
It wasn't as though he'd actually signed a contract with Cinder. That was the norm for assassins like him anyway, of course. Pros didn't leave a paper trail. But he hadn't exactly negotiated terms with Cinder. It had been either follow and serve her, or be left a half-dead cripple, stuck by the burned out remnants of the house he'd once lived in, though he'd never seen it as a home. Not seeing much in the way of options, going with Cinder had been the best choice he had available at the time.
Of course, no contract meant no fine print. But Cinder had definitely been all about control, making sure that he and Emerald followed her orders, to the letter whenever possible. She didn't like either of them branching out, as Emerald had occasionally discovered, during those rare incidents where she spoke out of turn. Mercury got the distinct impression that Cinder hadn't wanted him taking on outside work.
But Cinder was dead now. So what she wanted didn't really matter anymore...did it?
Despite the fact that he had been working for Cinder, Mercury was aware that his real employer, however indirectly, was Salem. Cinder was carrying out her orders, after all. So, if Cinder was gone, what mattered was what Salem thought. Again, there wasn't any fine print from Salem about whether or not Mercury could take side-gigs, even while technically working under her.
However, he got the impression that it wouldn't be a bad idea. This woman apparently wasn't interested in asking questions about who he worked for, or what their plans had been. Instead, the only thing she seemed to care about was whether or not he was willing to work for the person she worked for. Besides, this was an opportunity beyond merely making a little extra lien.
Whoever was behind Eira was someone with some serious clout. Mercury had been led to an interrogation room, and left for her to interview him, despite him figuring that there was some kind of restriction in place against questioning him by Ozpin. That meant that whoever had sent Eira had the authority to override such restrictions, or the means to subvert them, maybe bribing the officers, for example. In either case, this was a chance to worm his way into whatever organization Eira represented. Once whoever Salem sent to replace Cinder showed up, Mercury might potentially already be in position to be of service to them, mainly as he would be outside of his cell.
"You know...maybe we can work something out," said Mercury. "Though the biggest help in deciding that would be more info on just what kind of work you're offering."
"Of course," said Eira, tapping her scroll in tablet-mode, before turning it in her hands to show the screen to Mercury. "From what I gather, you are familiar with this young lady, yes?"
Mercury's eyes widened at the sight of the familiar visage on that screen. There was no mistaking that black and red hair, that cute face, or those silver eyes. His surprise melted away into a simmering anger, a scowl appearing on his face. "Yeah...I've certainly had a few encounters with her."
"It certainly sounds as though they were less than pleasant," noted Eira, turning her scroll back to herself, closing it down and pocketing it. "My Employer regards her as an extreme threat to the Kingdom of Vale. Therefore he is seeking her capture."
Well...that's stupid...but interesting, thought Mercury.
His every impression of Ruby had been that she was the ultimate Goody-Two-Shoes, one of those insufferable people who saved people purely because people needed to be saved, a born protector. The idea of someone like that being classified as a threat to the Kingdom struck him as beyond idiotic. But he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The enemy of my enemy... More importantly, it told him a few things about the person offering this job, through Eira.
It could be a particularly rich person, with a sense of overblown patriotism, someone who believed that they had the right to determine who was or was not a threat to the Kingdom. However, given the ice-cold professionalism of the woman in front of him, Mercury was inclined to believe that the person behind this was a political figure, possibly even someone on the Council. People like that often had vested interests in various things, things that Ruby might be a threat to, if they happened to threaten innocent people. A person in that position might be all too capable of interpreting a threat to said interests as a threat to the Kingdom.
All told, it seemed like a good deal. If things worked out, Mercury might be able to find himself a pretty good position, when Salem's next minion came around. Also, given that this was a mission against the girl who'd just killed Cinder and brought the results of all their hard work tumbling down around their ears, Mercury was more than happy to accept.
"Sounds good to me," said Mercury, his smile reappearing. He paused. "Wait...You said she needs to be captured...alive?"
"Correct," said Eira. "I find it impractical, but my employer insists. Threat or no threat, she has valuable information, which we seek as well."
"'Kay," said Mercury. "We still gonna off her in the end?"
"That is the ultimate plan, yes," said Eira.
Mercury grinned. "Then I'm on board." He paused. "Um...Any chance I could get my good legs back?" His weaponized prosthetics had been damaged in the last fight against Ruby. But Mercury figured that he could get them back in working order, especially if he got his hands on some of his new allies' resources.
"We will make arrangements," said Eira, returning his smile, and extending a hand across the table towards him. "I look forward to working with you, Mr. Black."
"Please, call me Mercury," said Mercury, taking her offered hand.
The whine of the bullhead's engines preceded its arrival, the airship dropping almost straight down from above, its wings tilting into their hover-configuration, the engines' output increasing dramatically, prompting the bullhead to slow down to a halt...mere feet away from the hard surface of the landing pad.
It was the kind of maneuver that spoke volumes about the skill of the pilot, or their recklessness. Its fall arrested, the bullhead gently lowered itself down to the concrete of the landing pad, coming to a stop, the whine of the engines dying as they shut down. The lingering quiet persisted as the bullhead sat still for a long moment.
Finally, with the final shutdown of its engines confirmed, it wasn't the bullhead's passenger bay doors that opened, but the cockpit hatch, allowing a single figure to step down onto the pad, and out into the fading light of the early evening. Ahead of him, the spires and buttresses of Beacon's architecture were clearly visible, as was the figure of Beacon Tower, all thrown into stark relief by the light of the setting sun streaming in from the west.
The man took a deep breath, stretching his back for a moment. The sun from behind Vale's skyline illuminated his figure. He was tall, well over six-feet, surveying the school before him with calm, deep-blue eyes. The wind rising up from the bay ruffled the short, blonde hair atop his head, which was combed neatly back, his sideburns stretching down into a full beard that completely covered his chin. The hard, chiseled muscles of his body were presently concealed by the overlapping white plates of armor that he wore. If anyone were ever to embody the archetype of the proverbial "Knight in Shining Armor," this man would be him.
After spending a moment quietly contemplating the scene before him, the man began to walk towards Beacon Tower, his metal-shod boots producing an audible clinking sound against the paved pathway.
The elevator to Ozpin's office slid open, prompting the Headmaster to look up from the paperwork on his desk. He'd already been informed of his visitor's arrival, having known the moment the bullhead had touched down at the docks that this man would be coming to him. "Welcome back to Beacon, Mr. Arc," said Ozpin.
Blaine Arc smiled pleasantly. "Professor," he said, "it's good to see you again. How have you been?"
"Quite well," replied Ozpin, producing a mug to compliment his own, and pouring some coffee for his guest. "It's certainly rare privilege to have you visit us. May I ask the reason?"
Blaine chuckled, accepting the mug from Ozpin. "Of course," he replied. "After all, part of the reason I'm here is to get your help."
"And what help might that be?" asked Ozpin.
"I need to find my son," said Blaine.
"Oh?" Ozpin raised an eyebrow.
Blaine sighed, taking a moment to enjoy a sip of Ozpin's brew before continuing. "The scamp's been going through a rebellious phase. He came flying into Vale, brandishing a set of fake transcripts, telling us he was going to get into Beacon."
"I see," said Ozpin, bringing his hands together.
"Boy had no real training," said Blaine. "Ten seconds would be enough for anyone to tell he's as green as it's possible to get."
"He chose not to train?" asked Ozpin.
"We didn't let him," said Blaine. "Oh, I gave him a quick primer, if you could call it that. But was more a way to knock that fool notion out of his head. No way was I letting our only son put himself at risk in this kind of profession."
"That seems rather unnecessarily cruel," mused Ozpin. "Why go to such lengths to discourage him?"
Blaine's face hardened. "'Cause that fool boy would only get himself killed," he replied. "When he was born, we were sure we were going to lose him. Every doctor we took him to predicted he wouldn't last past his first year. Then, all of a sudden, he got better. No one could work out how it happened. But we decided not to question it. My wife and I couldn't be happier.
"But then that boy got it into his hand that he wanted to be a Huntsman. Now, I can't fault a child for wanting to be just like his old man. But that Jaune even lived as long as he has is nothing short of a miracle. There's no way we could let him throw that away. He has no idea how much fear and stress he put us through, but he'd still gladly make us relive it all over again..."
Blaine lowered his head, growling in frustration.
"And does your son know about this?" asked Ozpin.
"No," replied Blaine. "He doesn't need to know about it. It's in the past."
"And yet, it clearly isn't, if you allow it to influence your decisions in the present," replied Ozpin. "What is more, your words and tone imply resentment towards your son for not appreciating how much hardship he caused you, during that first year, yet you yourselves are responsible for that. That strikes me as somewhat hypocritical, don't you think?"
Blaine grumbled under his breath, lowering his head. Then his expression hardened. Bringing the mug up to his lips, he downed the rest of his coffee in a single swig. "Thanks for the coffee, Oz. But I've talked too much already. I came here to find my boy and bring him home. He's already tried my patience enough.
"He brushed me off, the last time I talked to him, actually claiming he got in. Then he had the gall to block my number, so I can't call him anymore. Sapphira and the girls say he won't answer their texts. Only my eldest has talked to him apparently. She's the one who pointed me here, said I could definitely find him at Beacon.
"I figure you, being the nice guy you are, must've gotten him a place on staff as a condolence for not being able to enroll. It would explain why he hasn't been on my scroll, begging me to unfreeze his spending account, despite it being a few months. I'm sure he's doing all right at whatever job you decided to give him, but I can take it from here."
Blaine set the mug down on the desk. "So, Ozpin...where is Jaune?"
Ozpin checked the time. "Hmm...at this time...I suspect he is still at the sparring ring with his friends and teammates...then they will likely be in the dining hall afterwards."
Blaine nodded to himself before freezing in place, his eyes going wide. "Wait! What?" He blinked furiously. "Teammates...? Sparring ring...? Wait...what are you saying?"
"It is just as it sounds, Mr. Arc," said Ozpin. "Jaune Arc has successfully enrolled at Beacon Academy. He passed the initiation, and has since been working hard. Admittedly, there were a few rough spots at first, but he has shown potential that is nothing short of stunning, and is rapidly rising through the ranks."
Blaine, meanwhile, paled dramatically, the blood draining from his face. "So...he wasn't lying?"
"He was not," replied Ozpin simply.
"This isn't right!" exclaimed Blaine, thudding a fist against the surface of the desk. "I never even unlocked his Aura. If he attended the initiation, then that means..."
"Yes, he was launched," said Ozpin. "Fortunately, one of the other, then-hopeful, students noticed his plight and moved to assist him. She unlocked his Aura, and is now his partner and leader of his team."
"B-b-b-but he has no combat training," protested Blaine.
"His peers have provided him with a good deal of instruction," said Ozpin, smirking. "And it has been working quite well for him. Granted, he remains in the lower half of the class, when it comes to his combat ranking, but he has been rapidly rising with each assessment. I suspect that he will enter into the top half by the time the Vytal Festival rolls about, and that he will be an asset to his team, when it comes to the tournament."
Blaine gaped, unable to process what he was hearing. "I don't believe you," he said.
Ozpin merely shrugged. "Would you like to see for yourself?"
He brought up a video log of Jaune's most recent official sparring match, which had been against Sky Lark. The match had ended surprisingly quickly. Sky; being more skilled, agile, and with an edge in overall strength; had definitely had the advantage. He'd made excellent use of his weapon's superior reach and heft, along with taking advantage of its nature as a hybrid weapon, making use of the rifle that was mounted between the halberd's blades, enabling him to attack even when Jaune was outside melee range.
But none of that had even fazed Jaune, who faithfully held to the basics Ruby and Pyrrha had hammered into him, carefully hunkering down behind his shield and deftly deflecting Sky's attacks with minimal effort, all while patiently waiting for his chance, allowing his opponent to tire himself out and make an error.
And, when it had come, Jaune's faithful practice of the basics came to the fore once again. Deflecting a swing, Jaune was able to shift the direction of the movement to cause Sky to overextend himself, and stumble into the range of his sword. It wasn't the kind of mistake Sky would have made at the beginning of the match. However, his continuous exertion attacking had drained his stamina, and he'd misjudged the force of his attack, which Jaune's deflection had taken advantage of. What had followed was a three-hit combo of nothing but the most basic of sword techniques. But they had all the power of someone who'd practiced them relentlessly, both in terms of swinging his sword and controlling his Aura's Flow. The result was a trio of blows that had completely obliterated Sky's Aura, and won Jaune the match in a flash.
"That was..." Blaine searched for the words to describe what he had just seen. Given that he'd never actually bothered teaching Jaune, he had imagined watching the boy flail pathetically. Granted, there was nothing special about what he had done. He might have even gone so far as to dismiss Jaune's victory as the result of luck. However, Blaine's experience told him that this kind of luck was the sort that someone made for themselves. The style Jaune had employed was solid and dependable.
"It might be lacking in flare," noted Ozpin. "But it is serving him well, and he is only improving."
Blaine frowned. "Why did you accept him at all? You could have killed him, flinging him off the cliffs like that."
"Indeed," said Ozpin, shrugging idly. "Truth be told, I am not always as kind as I seem to be. I have little use for those who are not serious about becoming Huntsmen and Huntresses. Foolish grandstanders, who seek to bluff their way into my school, reap the consequences of their own actions, as far as I am concerned. Your son is not the first to have tried to enter my school with no training, and falsified transcripts. Most, I turn away, doing them a favor in the process. But the worst, I allow to try their luck, and find out, to their misfortune, just what is expected of a Beacon student.
"But there are some, like your son, in whom I see potential, which is what led me to give him a chance. I suspected that he would find a way, and he did. And now, he is making his own way."
"How?" demanded Blaine. "How could you have possibly known that?"
"I have my ways," said Ozpin, flashing his patented enigmatic smile.
In truth, Ozpin had a special kind of criteria, when it came to screening potential applicants to Beacon, one that not even Glynda was privy to. It wasn't one he relied upon all the time. But, on rare occasions, it had more than proven itself useful.
Ozpin was but a fading shadow of the great Wizard he had once been. The vast majority of his power he had parted with, when creating the Maidens. He'd parted with even more of what little remained when he had granted the Branwen siblings the power to transform. What remained was the barest sliver of a fragment of the power that he'd had at his peak.
What magic Ozpin worked nowadays was subtle, by virtue of necessity. No longer could he smite foes with fire and lightning. Gone were the days where he could lay waste to entire armies by himself. Nowadays, the magic Ozpin used, he worked in small ways.
Launching students off of a cliff, and then forcing them to partner with the very first person they met, upon landing...almost everyone who knew of that method had called it folly, at first. Even Glynda had given him a look filled with disbelief, the first time she'd seen him use it. And yet, almost without fail, the pairs that formed ultimately proved to be ideal ones in the end, partners capable of bringing out their fullest potential together, who then joined teams that did the same on an even greater scale. Yes, there were frequent incidents of disfunction, egos clashing and teamwork faltering. But that was part and parcel with being human. People made mistakes as they learned to live and work together. But the results worked out to a positive end, far more often than not.
All of that was made possible by the tiniest, most subtle magic Ozpin could wield, one of the only bits of magic he had left. It was a magic that worked small changes in the paths that people took, small changes that gradually led to larger, more dramatic ones, often over the course of years, or even generations. Such was the nature of magic that manipulated that nebulous force known as "destiny". It was magic that turned what should have been random chance into an incidence of pieces falling into just the right place at the right time.
Ozpin had other uses for such magic, though. Sometimes, when he was faced with an anomalous situation, such as an applicant who didn't quite fit the mold, it allowed him to get a glimpse of the potential ends his decision could lead to. It wasn't so much reading the future as it was allowing him a glimpse at a signpost down the road. Ozpin didn't need to use such magic often.
Ruby Rose had needed no such investigation at all. From the moment Ozpin had laid eyes upon her, he'd known that, so long as he gave her a path to follow, she could become a tremendous force for good in the world, perhaps even on a scale that he had yet to realize. Most of the other students had been the typical selection of prospective Huntsmen and Huntresses, yielding nothing really worth looking further into. Which wasn't to say that they were bad or unremarkable. However, there was nothing so far outside the norm that it required divination to investigate.
But Jaune...a boy with no training, who didn't even have his Aura unlocked, who'd falsified his transcripts, attempting to lie his way into Beacon; that had merited a second look, mainly because Jaune didn't fit the mold of those who typically attempted such a feat.
Normally, the scions of Huntsmen families would have no need of such methods, usually being well-trained by the time they applied, which made it odd already, given that Ozpin already knew Blaine, who had been one of his students previously. Many fraudulent applicants came from the lower classes, having no training, but seeing the life of a Huntsman as a fast track to fame, glory, and wealth. Given that many of them were simply desperate to escape whatever privation they had to deal with on a daily basis, Ozpin resisted the temptation to disabuse them of how "easy" the life of a Huntsman was by allowing them to try in the initiation, instead rejecting their applications as gently as he could.
Then there were those he was far less tempted to let down easily, mainly because they didn't hesitate to show their arrogance. They were the scions of wealthy families, or even the children of Council members. Some such applicants at least had the sense to put their money to use, paying for instruction under the best trainers money could buy (whether or not said trainers were really worth what they were paid often being a matter of debate), and putting in at least some of the work to ready themselves for a combat-oriented profession.
However, there were plenty of others who simply thought that buying themselves a fancy weapon, arming themselves with plenty of Dust, and showing up on the day of admission was enough. Those were the types who often attempted to use generous "donations" (i.e. bribes) to get their way. They showed up, smugly arrogant that they could coast through the Academy on their family names and wallets. Ozpin quite often did accept their money, and allowed them to try their luck, which almost always led to predictable, if messy, results. That was what liability forms were for, after all.
But there was the occasional anomaly: a child from a wealthy family who simply wanted desperately to do something good for the world; a child from a penniless background, who wanted to become an inspiration for others; and others who didn't quite fit the mold. For these people, Ozpin used his magic to discern whether or not they might have a future at Beacon. Even with his magic, it wasn't a complete assurance. But it gave him direction nonetheless...and it had often worked out in the favor of those he'd made an exception for.
Jaune had been one such anomalous case. The son of a prominent Huntsman line, Jaune had, nonetheless, received no training. Yet he had persisted in trying to find a way into Beacon. Investigating his background had turned up a truly bizarre medical history that involved a horrifying first year of life, followed by a miraculous recovery. That had been enough for Ozpin to decide to put his magic to use to determine the boy's potential. The results had been stunning.
Jaune's potential had been immeasurable. More importantly, from everything Ozpin had seen since allowing Jaune into Beacon, he was more than living up to it.
Blaine was, naturally, frustrated by Ozpin's cryptic response. But his own experience of being a Beacon student had taught him that it was useless to press the Headmaster for answers, when he did not want to give a straight one.
"Now that you know that your son is doing well here...what will you do?" asked Ozpin.
"I..." Blaine looked down at his feet.
"Keep in mind that forcefully withdrawing him is not an option," said Ozpin. "Mr. Arc has signed all the necessary waivers and forms, which means you have no means to forcefully withdraw him, so long as he remains a student in good standing, which he is.
"After all, just as he is not the first person to try and enter my Academy through dishonest means, he is also not the first to do so against the will of parental or authority figures. In fact, all three of his teammates have dealt with a similar issues in their own lives, particularly his partner."
Blaine frowned.
"You could talk to him, and try to convince him to leave of his own will," said Ozpin, "though I doubt you will enjoy any success in that, which would only lead to further division between you and him."
Blaine pondered the issue silently. He'd arrived, loaded down with preconceived notions of what to expect. He'd envisioned all the possible scenarios involving his son at Beacon. Yet this one possibility, the simplest one, the possibility that Jaune had been telling the truth about getting into Beacon, had completely escaped him.
The impulse was there, of course, the impulse to march over to where Jaune was now, and then drag him home by the scruff of his neck. However, Blaine's rational mind checked his impulse. He knew that Beacon's faculty would allow no such thing, and it would only result in him getting his visiting privileges suspended, possibly permanently. On top of that, even if he, against all odds, succeeded, it would only serve to widen the rift between him and his son. Blaine had been all right with Jaune resenting him, sure the feeling would pass with time. But if Blaine pulled such a stunt now, Jaune would hate him, despise him, likely for the rest of their lives.
However, he knew one thing that he had to do for certain. He needed to see his son with his own eyes, and see just how much Jaune had grown.
"I'm going to talk to him," said Blaine.
"By all means," said Ozpin affably.
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