Ozpin's Apartment… Sunday morning, 5:30 am, Vale Time…
Oscar blinked against the gritty feeling in the corners of his eyes and yawned, feeling his jaw crack as he did so. Instinctively, he stretched before he hissed and pulled his arms back in tightly at the sharp pain from the burn on his chest. He was so tired of the pain and the aches. Was it too much to ask for his injuries to finish healing already? A week in the hospital, but he was still recovering.
Bracing himself carefully against the mattress, he eased into a sitting position, turned, and put his bare feet against the cool wooden floor. The sheer curtains were closed, but the heavy curtains were open, and he could see the dawn light beginning to seep through anyway, just diffused and softened by the golden sheers. Too many days of morning chores, starting before the heat of Mistral's spring and summer days, had irreversibly turned him into an early riser.
He sighed and pushed himself to his feet, moving over to the closet. Even though the rest of his new belongings would be arriving later that day, he'd still taken the time to unpack what they had brought back with him the day before. He pulled out a clean pair of pants and a new white shirt, feeling the soft fabric between his fingers – soft from the fabric itself and how it was made, rather than repeated use and washing. Until all of this, the coat he'd bought in Argus had been the nicest thing he'd ever owned, but thanks to Ozpin, he would have so much more. It made him feel a little guilty – like he was taking advantage of Ozpin's hospitality and money when he hadn't really done anything to benefit the fight against Salem yet other than show up unexpectedly with dire warnings of what was to come.
He hesitated before pulling on the new shirt, however. His burned chest still needed treatment, and while he could apply the medicated cream that Doctor Ashburn had prescribed himself, it would be easier to rebind the wound to cover and protect it with help. The nurses had shown him how to do it himself but getting the bandage around behind his back correctly so that it wouldn't chafe or pinch from being too tight was almost a contortionist's act, especially since stretching too far or in the wrong way would pull painfully on the wound.
Surely Ozpin would have seen worse wounds in the past than the scarring he already had from Salem's magic and Hazel's beatings – and the old wizard was also a Master Huntsman, so he would know more aura healing techniques. Maybe Ozpin could teach him those techniques so he could try to reduce the scarring. As it currently stood, he wouldn't ever be able to go out in public without a shirt, or even with a shirt that wasn't fully buttoned up, the scarring was so bad.
With a sigh, he left his shirt off and listened at the door to the bathroom, wanting to make sure that Ozpin wasn't in there already. Back at the farm and Haven, Oz had already been awake every morning when Oscar had woken. He had never been sure if Oz – or Oz's soul, anyway – actually had to sleep, since – with the exception of when he had forcibly taken over during the battle – he didn't have control unless Oscar gave it to him, but he'd gotten the sense that the old wizard was an early riser as well.
The bathroom light appeared to be off, so he eased the door open and found the medical supplies that had been sent back with him from the hospital, fishing out what he would need – a roll of bandages, tape, scissors, disinfectant, and the medicated burn cream. Arms full, he headed for the hallway door and moved out into the living room, wondering if Ozpin would be in the kitchen making breakfast already.
The living room and kitchen also appeared to be empty. Oscar paused in the middle of the room, uncertain what to do. He didn't know enough about Ozpin as he had been before the merge to know what the Headmaster's daily routine was and the last thing he wanted to do was wake the man up if he was wrong and Ozpin wasn't an early riser.
He glanced around again, and his eyes fell on something that seemed out of place. The white ceramic mug that Ozpin had been drinking cocoa from the night before was still sitting on the small table next to the chair Ozpin had occupied. He'd seen Ozpin set it aside when the text from Ironwood had come in.
It shouldn't still be there.
He put the medical supplies he was holding in the chair he had used the night before and approached Ozpin's chair. One thing he knew about Ozpin without a shadow of a doubt was the fact that the man was a neat freak. He would never leave a dirty dish or mug sitting out in the open.
The fact that there was still cold cocoa in the bottom third of the mug was even more baffling. It wasn't from the morning, as if Ozpin had woken early and been called away before finishing his drink – it was stone cold, and the creamy liquid was congealing along the sides of the cup.
Frowning, he picked up the mug and carried it into the kitchen, where he washed the cup thoroughly before turning it upside down in the drying rack.
He wasn't sure what was going on but decided that until Ozpin made an appearance from wherever he was, it would be better to just go about making breakfast for himself. He wasn't on the farm, so he wouldn't have chores to do, but he also wasn't at Haven or Atlas, where he'd already reworked his routine twice depending on the circumstances he'd been in. Now he was at Beacon, which would mean establishing a new morning routine.
He didn't want to cook or eat without a shirt on, however, so he went back to the living room and scooped up the clean shirt he'd brought out, pulling it on before he returned to the kitchen. He poked around in the pantry and found a container of granola. Good enough for this morning. Maybe when Ozpin made an appearance, they could discuss their normal routines and figure out if they would be eating breakfast at the same time in the future.
He pulled a bottle of milk out of the fridge, and then picked an orange from the fruit bowl on the counter. Taking the time to investigate the kitchen two nights ago when Ozpin had been at the Council meeting had showed him exactly where all of the dishes were kept, so a bowl, a spoon, and a knife for cutting the orange joined the rest of the items. He poured a bowl of the granola, before peeling and slicing the orange and adding it to the granola, and then poured some milk on top. A simple breakfast, but a filling one.
Everyone had had some time to process what he'd told them yesterday, so the initial shock was past. They'd also had the night to think about what he'd said, so he expected that he would be hearing more questions to try to extract more specific details about what he knew. That would be the most difficult – he could tell them plenty about the battle at Haven, or everything that led up to what had been happening at Atlas before the Hound snatched him, but Beacon would be the hard part.
He rubbed his forehead, feeling more than a little frustrated. If only he'd thought to try to get more information out of Ruby and the others about what had happened the night that Beacon had been attacked! But there had been so much focus on training, and he'd been having nightmares from the memories he'd been getting from Oz – it had all been so overwhelming. He couldn't possibly have known that he might find himself in a position where he might have a chance to change things.
"Okay, think it through," he muttered. "There was the virus. Did any of them mention anything about when that might have been put into the system?"
Stopping the virus would be a huge benefit, if they could find it or thwart it in time. Without control over the CCTS, Cinder and her allies wouldn't have as much success in panicking Remnant with the feed of the Grimm and the Atlas drones attacking people. He wasn't really sure how he could help with that though – his knowledge of technology was next to nothing. He knew Oz had been an inventor at least once in a past life, but none of those memories had bled over to him yet, other than the fact they existed.
Maybe it would just be better to try to give more details about the actual night of the Fall of Beacon, rather than focusing on the virus? He'd only give bad information if he had to try to theorize about something he didn't really know anything about. But he could tell them about the incidents on the nights of the finals. He hadn't wanted to tell them that Yang had been the one blamed the first night with Qrow right there, since he didn't want the older Huntsman to lash out again, and he could probably tell Ozpin more about Penny now.
Of course, that brought up other details he hadn't mentioned yet – Jinn, and the truth about Ozma and Salem. That was another conversation that needed to happen, and he was more reluctant to talk about that than he had been about the Fall of Beacon, Haven, and Atlas. It had the potential to be a minefield of emotion – blame, shame, anger, grief…
He sighed into his granola. "Why does my life have to be so complicated?"
The resulting headache definitely wasn't worth last night's indulgence, even if it was out of depression and mourning.
Ozpin was convinced of that the moment he pried his eyelids open and slowly began to focus on the darkened shape of the furniture, recognizing his bedroom after a few bleary moments. He could see the bottle and glass on the nightstand where he'd managed to leave it before he'd passed out the night before. His mouth felt bone dry – as if he'd slept with it open all night, and his throat was scratchy.
It had been a long time since he'd overindulged in this way. He'd conveniently – or selectively at any rate – forgotten about the resulting hangover he'd now be dealing with. Dealing with the stress headache would have been far better, since once he'd gotten some sleep it would likely have gone away. But he was definitely not going to be at the top of his game for a good chunk of the morning, at least.
He groaned into his pillow before he rolled over onto his side and pushed himself upright, bracing his feet against the floor. The change in position caused a stab of pain between his temples as his body adjusted to its new orientation and his vision whited out for a moment, his stomach roiling with nausea. He closed his eyes against the pain for a moment while his head throbbed, and once the ache subsided a bit, he opened them again.
Long Memory should be leaning against the nightstand…
He paused, not seeing his cane in its normal position next to the bed. But where…? He looked around the room, before he saw it laying on the ground near the bedroom door. How had it gotten there? He hadn't had that much to drink the night before, and what he had drunk he had done so quietly, to numb the pain of all the memories he'd allowed to wash over him from previous betrayals through the memories he had of befriending Leo and James, coming to trust them, and eventually letting them in on his secrets.
He ran a hand over his face before gripping the corner of the bedside table and using the sturdiness of the wooden piece to push himself to his feet. He swayed a little with the change of equilibrium again but made his way carefully across the open space between the bed and the door. Bending over to pick up Long Memory upset his center of gravity, and he caught himself against the wall before he was able to get his hand around the silver handle and use it to brace himself.
Hangover or not, he needed to keep moving. Coffee this morning instead of cocoa perhaps, and a hot shower to try to wake himself up a little more. He needed to get more details from Oscar, he needed to speak to James about the security and cybersecurity around the CCTS and re-opening the investigation into Arthur Watts, and then of course all of the purchases they'd made for Oscar would be delivered later, so that would most likely take up a good chunk of the morning.
He found some clean clothing and made his way – somewhat unsteadily and using Long Memory for support in a way he normally wouldn't have – to the bathroom. The door between the bathroom and Oscar's room was ajar when he entered, but a quick glance inside showed that the boy's room was empty, so Ozpin pushed the door closed and started on his morning preparations, working through his throbbing headache, and allowing the hot water to soothe the lingering tension in his neck and shoulders.
Dressed and feeling somewhat more refreshed – although the headache still hadn't abated entirely – he exited out to the living area. There was an odd assortment of medical supplies piled in the chair Oscar had been using the night before. He turned his head and saw Oscar seated at the table in the kitchen, a bowl of granola in front of him. The morning sunlight coming in through the window was painful and caused another lance of pain between his temples, but he resisted the urge to grimace or flinch. "Good morning, Oscar."
Oscar glanced up from his breakfast. "Good morning, sir."
"I see the supplies on the chair out there – is everything okay?" he asked, allowing concern to flavor his voice.
"Oh, uh…" Oscar's cheeks reddened a little. "Well, I was…" he blew out a breath of frustration. "The burn on my chest still needs to stay covered. I can put the medicine on, but the bandages are a little bit harder to manage. I was hoping…"
"Of course, I'd be happy to help," Ozpin assured him, moving towards the counter and the waiting kettle. Coffee first, and then he would hopefully feel more human and able to eat.
The red deepened on the boy's cheeks, but a shy smile blossomed as well. "Thank you. I don't want to inconvenience you."
"It's no trouble," Ozpin assured him, filling the kettle, and moving it over to the cooktop on the stove to heat. He eyed the boy's bowl of granola and decided that it was plain enough that it wouldn't unsettle his stomach, so he began to prepare a bowl for himself. "It's important to make sure that you heal fully."
Oscar's eyes dropped again. "It probably won't."
"I'm sorry?"
"Dr. Ashburn said the scarring would probably always be there."
"Aura healing…"
"May or may not help," Oscar replied, his tone turning a little bitter as he spoke. "She said the scars would fade a bit, but they won't go away entirely. The damage was too severe." He glared down at his bowl. "Just another thing that's been taken out of my control since all of this happened."
The anger and bitterness weren't directed at him, but Ozpin felt a surge of guilt and discomfort regardless.
"Am I really just another body – another life – to you? To use and discard when it's convenient? Are you just a parasite?"
Thanks to his curse, Oscar had been pulled into a situation he had no business being part of, and now he would have to live with the fallout of everything that had happened to him as well as the looming fact that he was the next incarnation. And Ozpin understood that all too well – it wasn't just the physical scarring that Oscar would have to live with. It was the knowledge that Salem had hurt him in that way and the trauma that would come as a result. The boy's anger and bitterness were already obvious in that respect.
"Oscar, I…" he trailed off as the boy looked up, wondering if he should apologize, if saying anything would help or make the situation worse.
Oscar sighed and blew out a breath. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like I was blaming you." He brought a hand up and rubbed his face vigorously. "It's just… recent. I think I just need some more time – things were so bad in the last few weeks."
"That's understandable. Take as much time as you need, and if there's anything I can do…" Ozpin offered. The kettle whistled loudly, and he moved it away from the heat before reaching into the cabinet and pulling out the small tin of coffee, his rarely used coffee press, and a mug and set about preparing the strong, hot drink.
Oscar blinked at him. "Coffee? I thought you only drank hot cocoa."
Ozpin chuckled a little. "I do have that reputation, I suppose. Coffee is a… hrm… rarity for me, it's true, but even I sometimes need something a little stronger than cocoa." He finished making his coffee, taking a sip, and feeling the caffeine rush to his brain, helping to shake off the lingering hangover. He glanced back at Oscar and winked. "Don't tell Glynda or Qrow. They'd encourage me to stop drinking cocoa if they knew."
Oscar chuckled in response. "Okay."
With another few sips of coffee inside him, he turned his attention back to the granola he'd poured for himself. "I take it you're an early riser as well?"
"Farmhand," Oscar said. "Early morning was the best time to get the bulk of the chores done before it got too hot outside, and the animals always needed to be tended to before the crops or any repairs to the buildings or fences." He finished the last bite of his own breakfast. "I wasn't sure if you were the type to get up early too. After we started merging, you were always awake when I woke up." He tilted his head curiously. "Do you even need to sleep when you're merging with the next incarnation?"
Ozpin chuckled. "In a sense. Physically, no. I – or rather my soul – doesn't need sleep for the purpose of preventing physical exhaustion or health problems. But sleep is more of a meditative state when I'm undergoing reincarnation, to keep my awareness and perception sharp."
"Oh. That makes sense," Oscar said with a nod. He stood and brought his bowl over to the sink, turning on the water and adding soap so he could wash the few dishes they'd used. Ozpin pulled a towel out of one of the drawers, and as Oscar finished rinsing each item, he dried it and put it back in its proper place.
"Why don't you go get those supplies," Ozpin suggested once the last item was put away. "We'll get your wound taken care of, and then – if you're up to some more questions – I'll ask Glynda to come up and we'll see if we can make any further plans until your new belongings arrive."
Oscar dried his hands and nodded. "Okay." He ducked out of the kitchen, and Ozpin took the brief moment to gather some clean cloths and wash and dry his hands. When Oscar returned a few moments later, arms laden with the supplies, Ozpin moved to sit at the kitchen table.
Oscar removed his shirt, revealing the bandages wrapped around his chest. He started to reach for the tape that held the edge down but paused. Ozpin noticed the way the boy's hand trembled slightly, before Oscar fisted his hand tightly and took a slow breath. One heartbeat, another, and then his hand started to move towards the tape again, but more slowly.
"Oscar, sit down," he said gently. "Let me do it."
"I want to –" Oscar started, before he paused and hung his head. "I need to –"
Ozpin got up and knelt in front of Oscar, placing one hand beneath the boy's chin, and lifting it up so he could meet the boy's hazel eyes. "Oscar, I understand," he said softly. "It's admirable that you want to take care of it yourself. It takes strength to face an injury – a scar – like you have and accept it. It's a sign that you survived."
Oscar nodded against his hand where it still cupped the boy's chin. "I hate this," he muttered, eyes becoming suspiciously shiny. "She – what she did. Hazel beat me, but those were just bruises, broken bones. They'll heal or already have. But this?" He indicated the white cotton carefully wrapped around his chest. "This…"
"She marked you," Ozpin said softly. "I know. She's done it to me too, in dozens of different ways. I may not currently bear the scars she's left on my body the way you do, but I still have them here," he touched his temple with his free hand, "and here." He moved his hand to rest over his heart. "No one expects you to have come to terms with it in less than a week."
Oscar sniffed and brought his hand up to wipe at his eyes.
Ozpin guided the boy into a chair. "Sit there and let me do it." He got up and washed his hands again, since he'd touched Oscar's face, before returning to kneel in front of the boy. With as careful a touch as he could, he peeled the bandage tape back, trying not to put any pressure against the bandage or wound.
He carefully pulled the bandage away, winding it up as he unwrapped the loops from around Oscar's chest. He could feel Oscar cringing away slightly as his skin was revealed. Ozpin stilled his hands, giving the boy a moment to relax. Finally, as Oscar let out another slow breath, his gaze falling to the scarring, Ozpin got a good look at the wound for the first time since Oscar had appeared in his office.
The wound was centered on Oscar's chest, with raised white lines forming a starburst pattern from the central most point of the scar – likely the exact place where Salem's spell had struck the boy. Between the raised scars, the skin was red and swollen where the upper layers had been peeled or burned away. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any sign of infection.
"It seems to be healing well," Ozpin observed, setting the old bandage aside.
"Do you know any way to use aura to help it heal more?" Oscar asked, sounding a little hopeful. "Or with magic, maybe?"
"Hmm." Ozpin studied the burn carefully. "Magic isn't really suited to healing, unfortunately. Aura, however, could be possible. A strong aura can heal many things, although scarring can be difficult to heal – it's much easier to heal a wound completely without scarring when it's fresh than to try to make a scar go away. We can try to refine your aura with training and see if we can do anything to help the scars." He looked at the supplies Oscar had put on the table before reaching for one of the rags and the bottle of disinfectant. Even though there was no sign of infection, it was still important to keep the area clean.
Oscar hissed at the touch of the disinfectant. He squirmed a little, and Ozpin stilled his hand again, giving the boy a chance to settle down and making sure that his motions wouldn't cause him to press on the wound. As soon as Oscar was still again, he wiped at the wound a few more times with the damp cloth before reaching for the burn cream. The application of the cream was faster, and Oscar seemed relieved at the touch of the cream. Ozpin could only assume that it was cool and more soothing than the disinfectant had been.
"Does that feel better?" he asked quietly, wiping his hands off on another clean cloth.
Oscar nodded. "Yeah, thanks."
Ozpin nodded as well. "Stay still for just another few moments." He picked up the roll of bandages, the tape, and the scissors and quickly began wrapping the burn. He kept the bandage loose enough that it wouldn't constrict Oscar's breathing – the doctor's warning about the state of the teen's lungs still in his mind – but tightly enough to keep it covered and protected from any dirt or contaminants. "Is that too tight before I tape it down?"
Oscar shook his head. "No, it feels okay." He brought his own hand up and held the loose edge of the bandage down carefully, which freed Ozpin's hands so that he could cut some tape and carefully tack the bandage down with it.
"Did Doctor Ashburn say how often you need to change those?" Ozpin asked, standing up and moving back to the sink to wash his hands for a third time.
"Every day, at least for a while," Oscar said. "The bandages are just there to protect the burn – but for the scars to have the best chance of healing, I need to use that cream every day."
"Alright then. We'll just make sure we apply it every morning after breakfast. How does that sound?"
"Sure." Oscar pulled his shirt back on as he spoke. "Are you… erm, how should we move forward that way? Should we just have breakfast together every morning, or…?"
Ozpin hummed slightly. Oscar had already admitted to being an early riser due to having lived and worked on a farm, and Ozpin did have the habit of burning the candle at both ends, especially when there was evidence that Salem was making a play. "We certainly can," he agreed. "You're welcome to help out if you want to, but don't feel like you're obligated to just because you're living here now." He smiled. "This is going to be an adjustment for both of us, and we'll eventually establish a new routine which will suit us."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Scroll, checking the time. It was still early, but he knew Glynda would already be awake.
Ozpin
Good morning.
Glynda
Good morning. How is Oscar?
Ozpin
He's doing well. We were about to have another discussion on the things he knows and make some further plans if he can give us more details about what is to come. Would you care to join us?
Glynda
Your office?
Ozpin
My quarters, I think. It will be more comfortable, and the rest of Oscar's belongings are being delivered later this morning.
Glynda
I'll be there in a few minutes.
"Glynda will be here in a few minutes, and we can start making plans, if you feel up to it," he said.
"Okay," Oscar said with a nod. "I'll do my best, anyway." He looked down. "I – I don't really know a lot about what happened before the Fall. I wish I had asked Ruby and the others some more questions, but…"
"Anything you can tell us will help," Ozpin assured him. "If at any time you need to step away, just do. Glynda and I can certainly work on plans without you if you need a break."
"I think I'll be alright, but I will if I need to," Oscar promised.
Argus… Sunday morning… 11:00 am, Argus Time…
"Miss Nikos! Miss Nikos! A moment please!"
Pyrrha closed her eyes for a moment in frustration before letting out a slow breath and glancing over at her mother. She should have known better than to hope that the two of them could have a quiet morning shopping and just enjoying each other's company without being interrupted. Her mother gave her a sympathetic smile and a nod in response.
Pyrrha took a deep breath and smiled warmly as she turned to face the person who had hailed her. "Good morning! What can I help you with?"
"Orchid de Fleur, Mistral Broadcast System," the young woman introduced herself. "I was hoping that I could ask you a few questions about the upcoming Mistral Regional Tournament?" Behind the reporter was a young man with a camera.
"Of course!" Pyrrha replied. "I'd be happy to oblige." Pyrrha's mother smiled and moved off to the side, where there was a nearby bench.
The young man holding the camera quickly got everything set up before nodding at Orchid. Orchid positioned herself in the shot. "Orchid de Fleur for the Mistral Broadcast System. I'm here in Argus with Miss Pyrrha Nikos, three-time winner of the Mistral Regional Tournament, and senior student at Sanctum Academy." She turned to Pyrrha. "Miss Nikos, you're planning to compete in the Regional Tournament again next month – what do you think about the competition you'll be facing?"
Pyrrha kept a pleasant smile on her face. "I look forward to testing myself against my competitors, as well as the challenges the officials have arranged."
"Are there any other competitors from Sanctum Academy or Harbor Academy that you believe may give you difficulty during the Tournament? A few of the other seniors have gone on record as stating that you're the one to beat."
Pyrrha was careful not to allow her smile to slip and to keep her tone even. "I haven't really looked into the field yet. I think one of the great challenges about the Tournament is that it is very much like the Vytal Festival Tournament, and there's no way to really anticipate what the other competitors may bring to the field."
"You'll be defending your title for the third time. If you win again, you'll set a new record as a four-time winner of the Tournament. Does that thought change the way you plan to approach the Tournament?"
"No, not really," Pyrrha replied. "I intend to do my best, no matter what happens. I'm so honored by the support and the training I've received from my family, my teachers, my fans – I would be doing them a disservice if I didn't do my best."
"You're due to graduate from Sanctum in the spring," Orchid continued. "Do you intend to apply to one of the Huntsmen Academies for next fall?"
"Of course," Pyrrha said. "I've always wanted to be a Huntress."
"Have you made a decision on which Academy you'll be applying to? With your record and achievements, you would likely be accepted at any Academy you choose."
Pyrrha hesitated with her answer. She'd been thinking about it a lot recently, since the first deadline for applications was coming up just after the Tournament ended. She hadn't even really discussed it with her family yet, but she knew everyone's assumption was that she would be applying to and enrolling at Haven Academy in Mistral. But…
Ever since the first time she'd won the Regional Tournament three years ago, she'd been hailed as a champion and had been in the spotlight. A first-year combat school student had beaten students with three or four times the amount of training and experience that she had. When she'd successfully defended her title the following year, and then again in her third year – her popularity had exploded. Receiving the honor of being put on the front of Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Flakes cereal, other ads and endorsement offers… it was heady, but it had also made her uncomfortable. Some of those who had been her friends had pulled away from her, believing her to be "too good" to associate with them anymore. Others who wanted a taste of knowing someone famous tried to get close to her, but their so-called friendship meant nothing – yet Pyrrha remained polite to them, because it was what was expected of a champion who was placed on a pedestal.
All of Mistral knew who she was, and she was more than a little afraid that if she chose Haven Academy, she would continue to be on a pedestal – that she would continue to be alone.
Atlas Academy or Shade Academy would have the benefit of being far enough away from Mistral that she would have a better chance of being accepted for who she was as a person, rather than who she was as an idol.
But if she was being honest with herself… Beacon was the school she'd always wanted to attend. Professor Ozpin's reputation and the Academy's reputation was the best even among the four Academies. Some of the most legendary Huntsmen and Huntresses of the past seventy years had come out of Beacon Academy.
"Miss Nikos?"
"I'm sorry!" she said hastily. "I'm still considering my options, to be honest. But I think I've narrowed my choice down to Haven Academy or Beacon Academy. I'll probably make my decision after the end of the Tournament next month since I'll need to begin submitting my applications."
"Beacon Academy? Really?" Orchid seemed genuinely surprised at the idea that she might be considering anything other than Haven.
Pyrrha nodded. "Beacon's reputation precedes it, and I am interested in the idea of seeing other Kingdoms – but I still have time before I have to decide." She paused. "Did you have any other questions I can answer?"
"I think that's all. Good luck in the Tournament next month, and we'll also look forward to seeing you competing for Mistral in the Vytal Festival Tournament when it comes around again in two years." She turned back to the camera. "This is Orchid de Fleur, here with Miss Pyrrha Nikos, signing out." There was a pause before the cameraman nodded and the small red light went off.
Orchid turned to Pyrrha with a bright smile. "Thank you so much for your time, Miss Nikos. I'll be at the Regional Tournament covering it for the Mistral Broadcast System. I hope that I'll be able to get some sound bites from you at various times during the event!"
Another small, polite smile. "I would be happy to if the occasion allows. Have a nice day, Ms. De Fleur." She nodded and moved over to join her mother, the polite smile fading as soon as she knew that the reporter and the cameraman wouldn't be able to see her expression.
"You did wonderfully dear. But I didn't know you were considering Beacon Academy as well as Haven. It's a long way to travel to Mistral, let alone going to another Kingdom."
Pyrrha managed a strained smile. She hadn't even talked to her parents about this yet, but now that it had been brought up… "I'm still not sure. But the idea of going to Vale and getting to train under someone with a reputation like Professor Ozpin's is enticing. It feels like the right choice, but I'm still probably going to apply at Haven Academy as well, and then I'll make a decision when I hear back from both of them."
"Whatever you want, darling. You need to choose what's right for you and what will make you happy, even if it takes you away from us. You've never backed down from a challenge and I am so glad that your father and I raised you to be strong enough to meet whatever you will face moving forward."
Pyrrha reached out and pulled her mother into a hug. "Thank you, Mom."
Ozpin's Apartment… 9:00 am – Vale Time…
The elevator chimed as Oscar returned from putting away the medical supplies and finishing getting dressed for the day. He'd taken the time to make his bed and straighten up the few possessions he had since the rest of his new belongings would be arriving later that day.
Since they were expecting Professor Goodwitch, and Ozpin was in the kitchen making a pot of cocoa, Oscar moved to the door and pushed the button on the panel to open the elevator. As he had thought, Glynda – Professor Goodwitch – was standing there, ever-present tablet tucked into the crook of her elbow.
"Good morning, Oscar. Are you feeling better this morning?" she asked, a concerned look on her face as Oscar stepped aside to give her access to the apartment.
"Yeah, I am," Oscar said. He felt a little uncomfortable around the older woman. He had a few of Oz's memories of her, as well as a nagging sense of familiarity and friendship that he knew were from Oz – but at the same time they were the next thing to strangers. Even worse, she was a stranger to whom he had already given a lot of bad news about the future to. "Some of my wounds still need more treatments, but it's all stuff that I can do myself or with Oz's help." He brought his hand up to his bandaged chest absently. "Oz is making cocoa – do you want any?"
"Of course he is," Glynda replied with affection in her tone. "I'm fine but thank you for asking." She moved further into the living area and took a seat on the settee, while Oscar moved over to the armchair that he had already begun to claim as his own, leaving Ozpin's chair open for the Headmaster.
Ozpin entered a moment later with a teapot and his white ceramic mug with the Beacon emblem on it. "Good morning, Glynda."
"Good morning," she replied as Ozpin settled into his chair and placed the teapot on the side table. She looked between the two of them, Oscar noting the serious expression on her face as her glance shifted between them. "James sent me a message last night. He wanted to find out what Oscar has told us."
Oscar tensed at the mention of Ironwood. He knew Ozpin and Glynda noticed, but he couldn't help his reaction, and neither of them drew any attention to him. He appreciated their discretion. The thought of the General still sent a cold chill down his back. It would take a long time before he could even think about the General without feeling that sense of dread and fear. He refocused on the conversation.
"He messaged me as well. I'll make some time this afternoon after Oscar's belongings arrive to call him and give him the information that is safe to share – by then he should be done with most of his responsibilities for the day, so we won't have to worry about being interrupted. In the meantime, I've advised him to look into the security around the CCT towers." He took a sip from the mug he still held, before focusing on Oscar. "Perhaps that would be the best place for us to start today. You mentioned that the Tower was destroyed and there was a virus in the system. Is there anything more you can tell us about that?"
"Not really," Oscar admitted. "Technology really isn't my thing – I never even had a Scroll until I got to Mistral – Qrow got me one before we left for Argus. I've been trying to remember anything that the others mentioned about that night, but…" He shook his head. "I know the virus gave Cinder control of the broadcast and she was able to give a speech designed to sow discord and undermine people's faith in the Academies – and more specifically, the Headmasters," he added, glancing at Ozpin from beneath his bangs. "Then it cut off the Tower communications so there was no way to call for help from the other Kingdoms. Local comm systems were working to a limited extent, thanks to the smaller relay towers, but from what the others told me, communication was still… bad. Once the Tower fell, those local comms were all anyone could rely on from that point."
"Which would have also cut off all the outlying villages in all the Kingdoms except Atlas, since Atlas doesn't have any outlying villages," Ozpin murmured. "We definitely have to look into upgrading and strengthening the CCTS, if that's the case. Remnant can't afford a loss of communication if Salem is preparing to make a move."
"The whole system was designed for the four Towers to work in conjunction with each other though," Glynda pointed out. "How could we strengthen the system or change it so that the Towers aren't dependent on each other?"
"I'm not sure," Ozpin said. "I'll speak with James about it – his scientists designed the system – they may be able to come up with some ideas if we can convince them of the need to work on upgrading the system."
"Um – they did have one idea," Oscar offered. Both adults looked at him. "When we got to Atlas, communications had been down for over a year. The – the General brought us into his office and told us his plan. He wanted to use Amity Colosseum and put a tower on the top of it, and then launch it up into the atmosphere."
"Yes – you did mention that yesterday," Ozpin mused. "It would be ambitious, but it could work. The problem would be figuring out a way to broach the idea to James – although I don't know about the idea of using Amity. Amity serves too important a purpose for the Vytal Festival, and there might be a way to craft something similar for a new Tower without sacrificing Amity for the project."
"He said he was inspired by the Staff of Creation and the way it supports Atlas," Oscar said. "He – he took me down to the Vault before everything went crazy. He said it was your idea in a former life to lift Atlas off the ground."
"It was," Ozpin replied. "After the War, there were a few years where no one was sure what was going to happen to Mantle – many of their resources, especially their Dust mines – had been depleted during the ten years of fighting, and especially the Vacuo campaign." A pained expression crossed his face, but he continued. "With the formation of the Academies, it was thought that the soldiers who were left could turn their talents to defending against the Grimm, but eventually of course, the role of Huntsman became an actual profession that children strived towards, and the Academies began accepting students seventeen and older instead of just retired soldiers. With the growth of the Academies and Mantle rallying again to try to recover back to what they had been, Atlas was founded. By the time all of that had happened, the King of Vale had died, and I incarnated into Ozora, who was an inventor in Mantle."
He sighed. "Part of it was patriotism for Mantle, and part of it was meant to unite Remnant, of course – to show that it was possible to rise from the ashes of defeat stronger than ever."
"Is… well, is there a reason that Menagerie never got a CCTS tower?" Oscar asked.
Ozpin sighed again. "Prejudice against the Faunus, and the – incorrect – assumption that Menagerie wouldn't be able to thrive as their own territory. When Atlas created the CCTS and offered them to the other Kingdoms, it was determined that the Mistral tower and it's smaller supports were able to cover Menagerie and the cost of running the Towers is quite high. At the time, I disagreed with that decision, but it wasn't my decision to make."
Oscar frowned thoughtfully. "Would putting a Tower in Menagerie now take some of the burden off the other Towers until we can explore the idea of an atmospheric Tower? That is…" he hesitated for a moment before continuing, "if the Beacon Tower does go down – if we can't change events – would having a fifth Tower keep the system running, like a failsafe?"
It was Ozpin's turn to look thoughtful. "It might – I would need to check with James on that. It would most likely be a question for the engineers and programmers in Atlas."
"It might also help with any of the tension with the White Fang and the rest of the Faunus," Glynda pointed out. "It could be another way to show that we do view them as equal citizens of Remnant."
"Ghira Belladonna would be a good person to reach out to," Oscar offered, remembering the few encounters he'd had with the Faunus chieftain after the battle at Haven and the way he'd interacted with Blake and the rest of team RWBY and team JNPR, even though Ozpin had been quiet during those encounters to keep the secret of his reincarnations and to give Oscar agency after the way he'd forcefully taken over. Oscar had been in pain for the first few encounters, but he'd liked the chieftain, even if he'd been a little intimidated by him at first. "He's fair and I'm sure he would have some thoughts on the best way to implement the idea."
"Belladonna? Isn't he a leader in the White Fang?" Glynda asked in concern.
"He was – he stepped down to become chieftain of Menagerie," Oscar replied. "His daughter, Blake, was one of the ones who joined us at Haven. She was a member of team RWBY before the Fall. I met him during the two weeks after the battle at Haven and he seemed genuinely concerned about wanting to help us as much as he could."
Ozpin nodded slowly. "I've spoken with him a few times in the past, before the White Fang started to become violent, and I would agree with you. He does seem genuinely interested in peace. I'll make the effort to open negotiations with him."
"There's something we need to consider," Glynda said slowly. "How much do we really want to rely on James for all of this? We've already discussed having him look into Arthur Watts as well as increasing the cyber security and the physical security around the Towers. Now we want to add the idea of upgrading the CCTS and possibly coordinating the addition of a Tower in Menagerie? If we know that he will betray us…"
Ozpin shook his head. "As I said yesterday, he hasn't done anything to betray us yet."
"He had good intentions," Oscar volunteered, dropping his gaze down to where his hands were resting in his lap and twisting his fingers together, resolutely trying not to react to the sound of the General's name. "At least at first," he amended when the adults looked at him. "But the more things started to go wrong and the more stressed he became, the more his decisions started to change from the good of Remnant to the good of Atlas and the more he exerted his military force to try to solve the problems we were facing."
"That does sound like him," Glynda said, a sour note in her voice. "He's always been proud of Atlas' achievements and proud of the strength of the Atlas military. But my point still stands – we can't tell him what Oscar has said about his future betrayal, and if stress is what ultimately leads to that betrayal, we don't want to put all of this on his shoulders. How do we prevent a betrayal from happening?"
"With care and caution," Ozpin said. "If he feels that he's being helpful, and we're careful about what we do tell him and we are careful about how much we ask of him at anyone time, we can hopefully control events a bit more and ameliorate any negative consequences. I'll speak to him later and work out exactly how much we can entrust him with at this time – we still have a year to put these plans in motion – this doesn't all have to be done at once." He took another long sip from his mug.
"Isn't that just a form of manipulation?" Oscar asked, remembering Ruby's decision to lie to the General until she was certain he could be trusted and the sick uncertainty he'd felt regarding that decision. He'd never been comfortable with the whole situation, but like the others, he'd followed her lead because she'd been right – in a sense – that they needed to be certain after what had happened with Raven and Lionheart. After the way everyone had reacted to Jinn's story, and then again when he'd told the General the truth and the fallout of that decision… manipulation of any kind left a bad taste in his mouth and made him uneasy.
"Oscar?"
"It's just…" He worried at his hands for a moment more, trying to figure out how to voice his thoughts without giving away what he knew about Oz's past. That was a private discussion meant for another time when Glynda wasn't around, since he didn't know how much she already knew. "Well… manipulating people is a risk. If they find out about the manipulation, it… it can be bad."
He saw Ozpin and Glynda exchanging a somber look and resisted the urge to cringe backwards into the chair cushion or get up and run again. He didn't want them to see him as a child who couldn't handle a serious discussion.
You aren't wrong, Oscar," Ozpin said after a long moment. He rested his mug on the table beside his chair. "But to an extent, we all manipulate everyone around us – I think the critical difference is in the motivation before the manipulation and the method used."
Oscar thought about that statement for a moment, frowning as he did so. He wasn't sure he agreed with that viewpoint, but he wasn't willing to argue the point. He needed more time to think about it, in light of what he'd already been through and the information and memories he still had from Oz.
"Is there anything else you can tell us about the virus or the Tower?" Ozpin asked, just before the silence became uncomfortable.
"Um… after the broadcast went out, there was a massive Grimm attack on the city and the school. I don't know about any of that until later since my aunt and I were so isolated on the farm. After I met the others in Mistral, they filled me in on what I never knew about." He rubbed his forehead. "I know the local Huntsmen were able to establish a safe evacuation point in the city so that the visitors who were here for the Tournament could get away, and a lot of the students that were at the Colosseum made their way back to ground and managed to clear out the landing docks near the school. Once that was done, they stayed and defended the Tower for as long as they could before hey were overwhelmed and forced to evacuate as well."
It was Ozpin's turn to rub his forehead, clearly thinking through the implication if the expression on his face was any indication. "Even with the level of panic from the number of people in Vale for the festival and at the Colosseum, it would have taken more than a few minutes for the Grimm to converge in those numbers. Days, at least."
"The Grimm had already begun converging on the city from the day before," Oscar reminded him. "A Beacon student had injured another during the first round of the one-on-one fights." He looked down at his lap again before letting out a slow breath and raising his head. "I didn't want to say it when Qrow was here yesterday, but…" he saw their attention sharpening at that admission, "but… Yang was the one who got caught up in everything."
Ozpin's attention seemed to sharpen further. "How so?"
"She was chosen to fight in the first round if the one-on-one matches. I know that when the match ended she was the victor, but.." his voice trailed off. "She was chosen to fight in the first round of the one-on-one matches," he repeated slowly as realization dawned on him.
"Oscar?"
"I can't believe I didn't realize sooner – I don't know how we didn't make the connection…" He muttered. "But that would mean…
"Oscar? What is it?" Ozpin asked, with some urgency in his voice. "What did you remember?"
"Yang was the first one to fight in the one-on-one rounds," Oscar repeated again. "Her opponent was one of the teenagers working with Cinder – one of Salem's agents. There's no way that could have been random since there were eight finalists."
Ozpin's eyes widened with realization as well after a moment. "It wasn't just communication that was affected. The virus somehow gave them control of the randomization for the fights."
Glynda's hand covered her mouth. "That's… so much worse than it just being communication. There's nothing that would be safe from Salem and her agents if they're able to exploit that access and gain control of even more systems."
Oscar saw the expression on Ozpin's face as that idea sank in. The Headmaster sighed and started to raise his mug to his lips again, only to pause and lower it before he could actually drink. The brown eyes were conflicted behind the tinted lenses and Oscar wasn't sure what he could say or do to comfort him.
He swallowed and continued. "Anyway, Yang won her fight, but then the broadcast cut off completely. Aunt Em and I didn't know what had happened, but it didn't take long before the story was being covered on the news broadcasts. According to the broadcasts, Yang managed to drain her opponent's aura to zero before the fight was called, and then when he tried to congratulate her, she suddenly turned on him and punched him full force in the leg with her shotgun gauntlet to boost her power and she shattered his leg."
"What?" Glynda asked. "A Beacon student wouldn't – they know the standards of behavior we expect from them. And Taiyang's daughter…"
"It was a set up," Oscar explained. "It has to have been, in order to increase the negative emotions from the audience to start drawing the Grimm in. I didn't know what to think when I heard what was going on, but when I met Yang at Haven I asked her what happened, and she told me. She swore that she saw him attempting to attack her after she congratulated him on a good fight, so she defended herself. No one believed her story because no one else saw it the same way she did, but at the battle at Haven we realized that one of Cinder's allies was an illusionist – she made Yang believe that she was being attacked."
Both adults relaxed at his explanation. Clearly, the idea that one of their students – especially someone who was the daughter of a friend – could have lashed out in the way that Oscar had described had been disturbing to them.
"But the anger over her actions would have begun drawing the Grimm in. This level of manipulation… it's exactly the sort of long play I would expect from Salem," Ozpin concluded with a sigh. "I see why you didn't want to share this with Qrow – he cares too much about his nieces and he wouldn't take it well."
"It was worse than just Yang being manipulated, and her reputation and mental stability put in doubt," Oscar said.
"What do you mean?" Glynda asked.
"She… she lost her arm." Oscar indicated the place on his own arm where Yang's prosthetic had connected to what remained of her real arm. "The White Fang was at the attack too, not just the Grimm. During the battle, Adam Taurus attacked Blake and when Yang tried to defend her, her arm got cut off. General…" he paused and swallowed but pressed on. "General Ironwood had a prosthetic made for her and sent to her in Patch, but that was why I didn't meet her right away – she was recovering from the injury and adjusting to the prosthetic."
"Alright," Ozpin said. "None of this is good, but I don't think there's anything that we can't at least try to affect. If we work on strengthening the CCTS systems and security, we have a chance to stop the virus before it can take hold." He looked at Glynda. "We have the plan to work on city-wide evacuation drills, the class to train students on how to run a successful evacuation, which will save lives if Beacon does come into attack."
"That Adam Taurus is a problem," Glynda said darkly. "He's one of the driving forces behind the White Fang's more recent violent attacks – the problem is that he's so strong as a fighter and has so many loyal followers, no one can get close enough to try to apprehend him."
"Maybe Ghira Belladonna can assist us," Ozpin said thoughtfully. "He is the chieftain of Menagerie, and no doubt still has some influence within the White Fang."
The sound of a Scroll buzzing interrupted them, and Ozpin pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen. "Amber." He rose from his chair. "Excuse me for a moment."
As he moved into his own room, Oscar turned a puzzled look at Professor Goodwitch. "Amber?"
"Amber Lebrun," Glynda explained. "A close associate of Ozpin's and a gifted Huntress." She gave him an equally puzzled look. "You don't know of her?"
"No. I don't believe I've ever heard her mentioned. I was working with RWBY and JNPR," Oscar said. "Qrow too, and of course the Ace Ops in Atlas once we'd made it that far. I don't remember Oz mentioning her either to Qrow or the other Headmasters."
Ozpin returned at that moment and reclaimed his seat. "Amber is nearly back in Vale – she expects to back by the end of the week," he said.
"It will be good to have her back, especially with this looming over us," Glynda said.
"Indeed. Once Qrow returns – with or without his sister – I believe they'll make a formidable duo in trying to gather evidence for us regarding the movements of Salem's agents," Ozpin agreed.
"I'm still confused," Oscar said. "How will having one additional Huntress here help matters?" He looked at Ozpin, puzzled. "I don't remember Oz – you – mentioning her at all as part of your inner circle. I thought the inner circle was just the Headmasters, Professor Goodwitch, and Qrow."
"There are levels within my group," Ozpin corrected. "Not everyone knows everything, of course. The Deputy Headmasters at each school know enough to know that we are working to defend all of Remnant, and they're loyal enough that if something were to happen to one of the other Headmasters, they could be brought in to take the place of the fallen Headmaster."
"Oh. That makes sense," Oscar nodded. "If something were to happen, at least you could be sure that the Academies would continue to function without interruption until a new Headmaster could be found, or until the Deputy Headmaster could be sworn into the position?"
"That is the intention, yes," Ozpin agreed. "Glynda knows more than the other Deputy Headmasters, but since she is the one who will succeed me, that's only natural."
Oscar saw the displeased look on Professor Goodwitch's face for a moment, but the woman didn't comment. She didn't need to, actually. Oscar had enough vague memories of her from Oz to know that she was not only very loyal to Oz, but that he considered her a dear friend – and that the feelings were reciprocated on her side.
"As for Amber, given what you've told us, I want to keep her close to Vale for the time being," Ozpin added. "If the Academies are going to be targets for Salem's plans this time, the Maidens need to be where we can find them – Spring being the only exception of course, unless Qrow can negotiate with Raven."
"The Maidens? But if Fria is up in Atlas and Spring is missing, then where are the…" he paused as another realization dawned on him with horrifying clarity. "Amber is the Fall Maiden?"
Ozpin nodded. "Yes. She's new to the powers, but a skilled Huntress, nonetheless. She inherited the powers about 4 years ago, just after obtaining her license."
"You need to call her back," Oscar said urgently. "As soon as possible."
"She's on a mission with a team, Oscar. I can't pull her out of it without a good reason," Ozpin began.
"If you don't, she'll die," Oscar said bluntly. "Cinder was the Fall Maiden before I was sent back – and Cinder is the one who killed you. If Amber dies, you will too."