Jaune had neatly folded his clothes away, tucking them into the wardrobe in the corner of his room. It wasn't much, most certainly nothing compared to the vast choices he had back at home. But it was something more than dense armor and a single sweaty hoodie.
Jaune had changed almost as soon as he had closed the door. His armor was tucked away in a corner, neatly stacked in a manner he had gotten accustomed to. He had yet to be accustomed to the lack of the weight on his shoulders.
A looked around the drab, undecorated room. It is rather bland, isn't it? He thought as they took in the dull beige colored walls.
Jaune was inclined to agree. It was a little bland. Back at Beacon, Pyrrha had set up a bunch of posters of old Mistral ring fighters, along with some cute little motivational posters, while Ren had a tiny corner of the room dedicated to a ceremonious tea set, and Nora often would leave the remnants of last night's pillow fort on the floor. Jaune didn't quite feel that there was the space for his own personality in the room, but his comic books did take up their fair share on the single shelf in the room.
"You know, I always wanted a wall flag." Jaune said out loud as he pictured the wall with some simple tapestry. There were a couple strong contenders of tattered insignias from ages past in the Dream. Jaune rolled his shoulders, tossing his backpack gently on the bag. Pulling out the eclectic collection of strange curios and dream born relics from the bag, he started sorting them out. Weapons and the simple bottles were returned to the bag, while his pilfered tombs, flags, and other oddities were laid out on his bed. He unfurled several of the tapestries, and found that most of them were simply far too large for the small room. However he found two that would roughly fit his designated space. He pulled out some nails and string, and got to work on hanging them up. They went up on either side of the single window he had.
One of them was once probably a strong blue color, and had managed to maintain most of it's luster. At its top was an arching of once yellow stars, a dozen small imploding nebulas curving gracefully over some kind of pronged sigil, looking oddly like a crown on top of a skull. That was just interpretation though, as the vertical lines and their breaks were clearly and purely abstract. Underneath it was a red sphere, contrasting strongly with the powerful blue. A stitched banner with the words "Grasha Vitsumi Magasma Ortho Yggrbrag '' inscribed into it, as faded and bled as they were. It must have been some kind of motto or family oath, but he did not know what it ment. It sounded oddly familiar for some reason. Jaune remembered where he picked up this particular banner. It was hanging in the walls of someone's bedroom. They were probably wealthy, considering that their bedroom was well furnished and the veritable McMansion that they had lived in was equally gaudy. There was little taste in it, but at least the crest had some sign of favorable preference in design. That was one he found in the Eternal City.
The other was something he wasn't sure where he picked it up, but was fairly certain he had taken it from what was once a church in the farmlands. It was a black backed banner with a bright orange circle in the center. A straight line struck through the center of the ring vertically, matching its color. It was simpler than the flag on it's left, and for it it was equally, if not more beautiful. Jaune nodded, looking at the dual flags flanking his window view. He turned to one of the walls. It was far too bland.
Do you think they would let us have a wall sword? Jaune thought as he pondered the possibilities.
B scrunched his face. No, but I'm also pretty sure we aren't allowed to put holes in their walls either…
Jaune shrugged. He would have to go get hooks for it anyway. It would have to wait for later. Looking over the rest of his collection, he decided where to place them. Some candles found their way onto the desk, just off center to the left. The Doctor's mask rested on the edge of that desk as well. A couple of Jaune's favorite bottles were stored on the floor, lined up against the wardrobe in a selective manner. He would add more later, but for now it was satisfactory. Jaune looked at his phone, seeing that the cheap charger he bought at Schnee mart was indeed working. There was a message at the top, a notification that called for Jaune attention.
Missed call: Nora, Queen of the Castle. 15 days ago.
Jaune winced, feeling bad about missing that call. He really wanted to keep contact with one of his few friends. Jaune could just imagine the terribly powerful pout Nora must have had when her call was turned down. He tapped at the notification, playing out the recorded message.
"Hey Fearless leader." Nora's voice chirped from his speaker, the mechanical device not quite delivering all of her voice to Jaune. He supposed it was natural that some of the data, some of the human inflections, were lost in translation. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. I know it's been a while, but you haven't responded to any of my texts. Ren says that it's because there is no CCT service out there, but surely someone's got to have a transponder, right? Eh, I'm sure you are busy with saving the world. You could be fighting dragon grimm, or giant sea snakes!" The cheery recording spiked with excitement at the idea. Jaune smiled, that odd quirk of Nora being right in the most odd way possible showing up again. "Or maybe giant sloths!" Nora stopped for a moment, her voice turning to a more timid, pleading manner. "Please don't kill the Giant Sloths. They're so…. So slothly."
Jaune couldn't help but smile at that, letting out a soft huff in amusement. That was such a Nora thing to ask of him.
"But anyway, I just wanted to make sure that you're doing ok. I'm sure you're out there, saving entire villages from grimm and making the world a better place. But still." Nora gave another uncharacteristic sigh. "I miss you, and I would really love to hear from you. I'm doing ok, although it's not the same without you. Pyrrha seems really moody, and she's constantly arguing with people. Particularly Weiss. And Yang. And Blake. And Cardin. And the rest of CRDL. And a couple other people- wow, that's actually a lot of people. Yeah, Pyrrha likes arguing now." That last sentence was almost a question, almost an admittance of defeat. "Ren's doing… well, he's doing. I don't think he's taken it as bad as Pyrrha did. He doesn't talk as much any more, though." Nora said, her recorded voice inflicted with being the bearer of bad news. "I miss his voice." Jaune's face was that of stone, carved into a hard, regretful face. He did regret that he couldn't stay in Beacon, in Vale. he did regret that he couldn't stay with his friend. He regretted that things didn't turned out the way he planned. He regretted that he failed Reed, that he failed himself.
He didn't regret chasing his dream, though. He didn't regret helping those people to Rogues Hill. He surprised himself. He didn't even regret leaving Beacon, or leaving Vale. He didn't have that many regrets, all things considered.
Which surprised him. He thought that he would find himself regretting the mistakes he made in his life more than he did.
"END OF FINAL RECORDING" came the mechanical prerecorded voice, signifying that the message was over. Jaune had missed the ending. He probably knew what it was going to be about, but he still replayed the message anyway.
"END OF FINAL RECORDING" the message played again. Jaune was sitting on his bed, cradling his phone in his hands, looking at the recorded message. He clenched his jaw, mustering the strength within his soul to give her a response.
What did he even say? "Hey, nora. I'm glad you're doing ok. I made it to Haven. Saw someone die. I died myself, woke up on what I think is some form of purgatory? Anyway, every night when I go to sleep I wake up in a terrible dreamscape that i die in over and over again. Also, I now hear voices in my head. See you soon, toodles!"
Pfft, yeah right.
Because that wouldn't be suspicious at all. B pointed out, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Jaune thought about what he should tell his close friend. How he should respond.
He clicked the call button, letting his phone vibrate in his hand. BRRRT, BRRRT.
"Hello-? Jaune jaune?" Nora's voice crackled from the speaker. Jaune froze, completely unprepared to actually speak to the girl. Oh, god, somehow this is even worse. Jaune thought to himself as he stared at the light up device. "Hello?" Nora asked again, her voice teetering on dismay at the lack of response.
A was practically screaming at him. Don't just stand there, you idiot, say something!
What?! Jaune responded with, desperate to be fed a line.
Anything!
"Hello? Can you hear me?" Jaune spoke into the speaker.
"Jaune-Jaune? Is that you?" Nora asked, her voice rising. "I can hear you Jaune-Jaune!" She practically yelled into the phone. Someone spoke loudly in the background, as though they were trying to gain the electric girl's attention.
"Sorry, prof, but Jaune's on the line! I got to go!" Nora called over her shoulder, the sound sounding distant to Jaune. He heard a door slam closed soon after.
"Nora, are you in class? Nora, don't skip class just to talk to me-" Jaune started, but was abruptly cut off. "Sorry Fearless leader, but Port is just so boring. Besides, it's not like he's teaching anything important." Jaune could hear her beaming though the scroll. He sighed, a smile creeping onto his face. "Are you sick or something?" Nora continued, not stopping for breath. "You sound kind of raspy there."
"Well, I can't say you're wrong, I have been feeling a little under the weather recently" he admitted. It was a lie? Might have been a lie. he most certainly hadn't felt like Jaune Arc for some time, but he wasn't sure if that made him sick. Maybe it was just the stress from his exodus. Whatever it was, it wasn't that important right now. "So, what have you been up to since I've left?"
Nora made a so so noise. "Not much, Fearless leader. Things have been boring since you left."
Jaune practically reeled at that. A boring day? At Beacon? Filled with stereotypically reckless and hormonal teenagers?
Come on, they aren't that bad. A defended his former colleges.
Jaune gave him a look. I've read some of the fan letters those student's gave Pyrrha. A lot of them were border line erotica. So yeah, they are horny. Jaune said, before returning his attention back to Nora. "A boring day at Beacon? That's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one." He chuckled at the thought.
Nora groaned. "I know! Beacon was supposed to be fun and exciting!"
"Well, life can't always be high octane fuel all the time, Nora." Jaune advised. "Sometimes it just has to slow down, and you with it." That was just the way the world was. Not even the Dream was high octane gas all the time. Hell, Jaune spent most of his time in the Dream reading, training, or learning some odd new skill.
Nora just groaned. "But why?" She groaned, disappointed that the world had decided to not be interesting at that moment. Jaune shrugged.
"I think you should revel in such moments, Nora. You don't know when they will come again, particularly in this line of work." The ranger said sagely. It was a somber word of wisdom. Nora was silent for a moment.
"Jaune." She started. "Do you have something in your throat? You sound kind of, well, scratchy?"
Jaune blinked. He made a grumbling sound, testing his vocal chords. They felt fine, but the sound they made was most certainly one that was far outside of whatever range he had that month and half ago.
"I was stabbed." Jaune responded with almost instantly, before clenching his jaw in a wince. Probably should not have said that. He thought.
"What do you mean you were STABBED?!" Nora practically shouted. "Are you ok? What happened? Do I need to break some kneecaps?" The panicked valkyrie rattled off. Jaune laughed, a rasped snorting laugh, as he attempted to calm her down.
"Nora, Nora, breathe. It's ok. I'm ok." Jaune said, controlling his laughs. "I'm alright. I just was jumped, taken off guard. They're dead now. It's ok."
Nora was silent for a long time at that bombshell. Jaune sat there on his bed, stewing the awkward silence.
"Jaune." Nora said sternly, in a complete opposite tone to her warm concern just seconds ago. "Is there someone you want to tell me?"
Jaune's face looked similar to that of someone sucking on a lemon. "Do I have to answer that?" He asked nervously. Nora gave him a raised eyebrow. Not that Juane could see that skeptical face.
"Nora, if you are giving me the evil eye, I can't see it." jaune pointed out. Nora gave a harrumphing sound.
"I am giving you the evil eye." Nora confirmed. "So, what happened?"
Jaune sighed, running his hand through his hair. "You'll want to sit down. It's a story." The ranger suggested. "So, I was wandering around Mistral, right? Minding my own business, when I came across what I thought was a merchant caravan. At least I thought it was a merchant caravan."
I was just relieved to find actual human beings, instead of drunken ghouls.
Nora seemed interested. "Oh? What were they?"
"Slavers." Jaune responded, his voice full of venom. "Bandits, cruel and terrible people."
Nora was about to speak when Jaune's voice, full of anger and sorrow accented by the static somehow, interrupted her. "They had cargo. Women and children from a town they had burned."
Nora gave him a dry gulp. "What did you do?" She asked. She already knew the answer. Jaune had already answered it.
"I snuck up on them once I became suspicious." Jaune admitted. "Their "cargo" didn't seem normal. When I saw what their cargo was, who their cargo was, I dunno. I just-"
Nora spoke up. "You got angry?" She suggested, already picturing the scene. Jaune, gleaming in the firelight in his armor, an enraged snarl on his face.
Jaune gave her a short shot of breath, almost a snort, almost a gasp. But not quite either. "I wish I felt anger," he said. "I wish i really felt anything at all." Jaune looked wistfully down at his feet, staring past them into. "I just looked at them, and what they had done, and decided that they were not seeing the light of day again." He shrugged. "There was no anguish, no hatred. Nothing. I just decided, like some uncaring god, that they would simply not exist beyond that night."
Jaune thought about his words. He supposed he was a god, in that manner. He could dictate, had dictated the fates of those slavers. Just as they had dictated the fate of those slaves for a moment. It was strange, how man became god. Or perhaps it was god that became man. Food for thought, huh?
The power man could wield at a whim. For that's what it was. A whim. A justified whim? Perhaps, but a whim nonetheless.
"Jaune…" Nora started. "That is like, legitimately concerning. I hate to be the one saying it, but have you considered a therapist?" She said, her voice oddly steady and devoid of inflection. It was a controlled steadiness that was unlike her. It was full of concern, which is something that he should have expected.
"You really think I need therapy?" he asked, only a little insulted at the insinuation. He was fine. He had been fine. He had been fine for years now. Months now?
Regardless. He was fine. He had to be fine. It's not like he was going insane. He just heard voices in his head and had hallucinogenic dreams.
And that's not suspicious at all? A asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Hush you. Jaune responded curtly. You two are a joy.
"Nora. I'm ok." He said, trying to cut off that line of conversation. "I'm fine. It's just been a rough journey, that's all."
The two sat in silence for a while. Jaune turned the conversation to what Nora was learning.
Nora giggled. "Well, we've been talking about Jorgumunder, the sea serpent grimm."
Jaune nodded. "Yeah, I remember fighting one on my way to Mistral." Jaune said wistfully. "I dropped a mast on it's head."
"Wait, wait wait wait." Nora sputtered, shocked at Jaune's casual statement. "I'm sorry, fearless leader, you did what?"
Jaune shrugged. "I killed a Jorgunmunder. On my trip to Mistral on the boat. It attacked us, and I dropped a sail on its head."
"Oh! Storytime! I absolutely, necessarily, completely, utterly, and definitely need to hear this story." Nora giggled. Jaune could just imagine her bunkering down, burrowing into a pile of blankets like a snake does with sand.
"Ok. it was an ironically bright and clear day, with a storm rapidly approaching…" Jaune started telling the story of his first major encounter. He was smiling an honest smile as he did it. Eventually he got to the end as the sun started to dim. "And we entered port soon after that." Jaune concluded.
"Wow." Nora said, filled with awe. "That's an amazing story, fearless leader. You sure you're not pulling my leg?"
Jaune chuckled at the accusation. "Nope." he responded. "True story. I still have the scar on my leg from it." The ranger said as he looked out the window. The sun was falling into the sky, turning the blue into a spackled array of purples and reds. "Well, I'm going to have to let you go, Nora. It's getting late and I need to get some dinner." He sighed. He didn't want to end the call, but he couldn't keep Nora forever. "And I know for a fact you are late for history."
Nora made a pouting sound. "How'd you know?" She grumbled, the sound of her moving towards Dr. Oobleck's class could be heard through the speaker.
"Because I highly doubt that your schedule would have changed at all, even with me gone." Nora sighed at that, the reminder that Jaune was indeed gone and far away from her.
"Hey." She said, grabbing jaune's attention. "Call me again, alright? This was fun."
Jaune nodded. "Of course I will." such an answer was obvious. "I will call as soon as I am able. Give the good doctor my greetings. I will see you soon Nora."
Nora gave a conformational hum. "Of course, Fearless Leader. I'll see you soon."
Jaune ended the call, flopping back onto his bed. He was fully expecting to have some several minutes of peace and quiet in his own room, as forign as it was.
A knocking at his door proved him wrong.
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Alright alright alright! Another chapter in the bag. I apologize for taking so long, but life got in the way. This chapter was a slow one, but we get to see Nora again! or rather, we get to hear Nora again. I've been looking forward to this scene for a while, and really think I hit it on the head. Is it perfect? not really, but it hit everything I wanted.
Good Nora, always looking out for Jaune, making sure he's ok and up to date.
next chapter we will return to the dream (I hope) but there is one scene that needs to be done before we get there. The next chapter, or the next few, should answer several questions including but not limited to; Why Jaune's aura is acting strange, why Jaune is getting other peoples memories, and perhaps what happened to this place.
As for separating the two storylines of the Dream and the waking world into two separate stories: I considered this, but it won't work because the two storylines are distinctly interconnected and intertwined. not only though Jaune, but in other aspects as well. so reading one storyline without reading the other will make no sense what so ever. A good idea, but not for this story
As always, please leave a comment, review, constructive criticism, idea, and/or whatever theory you have for this story. I love hearing them and they are often so incredibly cool.
Thank you for reading!
Chapter 32Chapter Text
Jaune stayed silent, clenching his eyes to see if he ignored the knocking sound if it would go away. There was a moment of silence. Jaune gave a small sigh of relief. And then the knocking came back with a vengeance. Jaune groaned, pulling himself from the soft bed sheets and to the door. He strode to the door, and if his feet made a sound, they would have been stomping. Jaune peeked through the peephole.
It was that monkey faunus from earlier. What was his name? Sun?
I think so. A confirmed. Yeah, it was Sun. as in the star.
B squinted. I think his name is moreso a historical reference. He thought, vaguely remembering an old Vacuo story. A just shrugged.
Jaune sighed, turning to go get his armor. He would need it when dealing with other hunters. The ranger moved, almost stumbling at the unexpected weight on his shoulders. Jaune looked down, seeing the familiar sight of his dented and worn on his chest. I could have sworn I took that off? Jaune thought to himself, very confused.
Jaune, still absolutely baffled by the fact he had forgotten to take off his chestplate, along with his greves, opened the door.
"Mr. Wukong." He greeted the monkey faunus.
"Yo." Was the returned greeting. Sun blinked, looking down at Jaune. "Bro, you still in your armor?" He asked upon noticing that Jaune had the same metal bound to him as when they first met.
Jaune remained confused as to how, but nodded dryly all the same. "I suppose I am." He admitted. He wanted it on, but the fact that he must have forgotten to take it off was interesting. "So, what brings you knocking upon my door, oh hunter of mine?"
Sun squinted at him, trying to piece together just exactly what Jaune had said. "Whut?" He responded after a moment. "I mean, I wanted to invite you out for dinner with my team. You know, you being a new student and all. Get to know each other, you know bro?" Sun offered, the offer becoming more and more awkward as it went on.
Jaune gave him a scaldingly dead look. Jaune stepped back, closing the door.
"There will be free food." Sun spat out, pulling the ultimate trump card in negotiations. Jaune stopped, and opened the door a little wider. His face was one of invested curiosity.
"You have my attention, Mr. Wukong," Jaune said. Sun blinked, before his face brightened to rival his namesake. He gave a powerful fist pump.
"Yes! And Arslan said I couldn't get you to join us!" he whispered under his breath. "That's great dude! Meet us by the gondolas!" Sun said as he scampered off. Jaune shook his head.
What did I just agree to? Jaune pondered. Welp, it doesn't matter now. He apparently had free food to go obtain.
The gondolas were surprisingly easy to find. Jaune only had to jump through a window to get to a hallway he wasn't sure how to navigate to once. Or was it twice? Amazingly, falling some three or four stories was an easily forgettable experience. He supposed it called in comparison to when he was falling into some massive unknown depths to the bowles of a mountain.
Jaune saw a surprisingly large group hovering around one of the entry ways. There were a couple faces he recognized, namely that of Sun and Arslan. The rest of Arslan's team was there as well as who Jaune assumed to be the SSN of team SSSN. And with them, standing at about equal height to him, was leaning against one the supporting poles. Jaune blinked, wondering if he had just walked into a western movie. The man was dressed like a cowboy: a wide leather hat that covered the top half of his face, a long brown trench style coat that went down past his knees. A button down shirt covered by a brown vest, along with similar shaded brown pants and combat boots. The man shifted as Jaune approached silently, his eyes catching Jaunes figure. The stranger gave him a subtle nod as Jaune analyzed the huntsman. He clearly was a huntsman. Jaune could tell that he was a huntsman by the way he carried his shoulders. They were used to the weight of a weapon, perhaps and most likely some form of rifle. The other students did not get the greeting jaune got from the elder huntsman. Jaune moved forward, practically a ghost through the busy crowd by the gondolas. Jaune figured that the gondola port must always be congested with traffic. He slipped past them all the same. Unnoticed and unbothered. He smiled, a rather childish thought coming to mind.
He snuck up on Arslan, trying hard not to be noticed. Jaune stood behind her, almost her shadow given form. He leaned down, so that he was just behind her ear.
"Boo." He whispered.
Arslan could feel something tugging at the back of her mind, like the faintest grasping of her semblance. Like the faintest sense of warmth from the edge of a room.
Then she heard it. A deep, rasping whisper that reminded her of hushed winds on hot summer nights. It was like the draft from ashes blowing through the river reeds. It uttered a single word that sounded like the last breath of some ancient thing.
"Boo".
That word sent shivers down her spine. She practically swooned backwards as her nervous system was sent into a minor overdrive. She felt her back collide with a surprisingly solid surface. She craned her neck to see who it was that dared spook her like that.
"Jaune!" She scolded upon seeing the mop of unkempt blonde hair peeking out from under a cloak. "Don't do that! You'll end up getting punched again." She hissed at him, playfully baring her fangs at him. Jaune gave her a smile. Not that many people would call it a smile, but Arslan could see it in his eyes and how they shone in the dimming daylight.
"That is not an experience I wish to repeat, Ms. Altan." Jaune said, in his oddly hushed voice. It was as though his words were for her and her alone. The cowboy raised a questioning eyebrow at Reese, who just shrugged.
"You must be Jaune Arc." The unknown huntsman said, drawing the attention of the gray ranger.
"I am just Jaune. The title of Arc is a falsehood that I no longer bear." Jaune responded with, drawing a curious look from the other huntsmen there. The gunslinger gave him a nod.
"Alright then Jaune," he said, introducing himself. "I am Professor Sebastian Cortez. I'm technically a teacher at Haven. I look forward to having you in my classes, Mr. Jaune."
Jaune raised an eyebrow at his introduction. Technically a professor? What in the world does that even mean? Juane wondered. B just shrugged.
I have no clue. The figment admitted. And I'm not even sure I want to know, to be honest.
Jaune merely gave him a nod, looking around at the nine huntsmen. One of them, the redhead that Jaune assumed was on Sun's team, spoke to him.
"Dude, you know we're going out for chow, right? It's not like we're hunting for grimm." He said, taking note of the battle ready armor Jaune was wearing. Jaune simply gave him a look and a miniscule shrug. He wasn't sure if the redhead even saw it.
Jaune could feel their stares at him, even as they chatted in slightly hushed tones amongst themselves. Sun brought the ranger over to his group of boys. "Jaune, this is my team, team Sun."
Jaune gave them a look over, and found them frankly more so a boy band than actual huntsmen. "This is my bud Neptune. The redhead over there is Scarlet, and the big guy is Sage." Jaune gave them a droning hum as they made their introductions.
"I am Jaune. No more, no less." He said, giving the team his name. He felt that there should have been more attached to that introduction, but could not form the words he wished to speak. "I look forward to working with you all." He eventually decided on it. It was a placeholder phrase that was similar to Lorem Ipsum, spoken without meaning, spoken without weight. An odd phrase, innocuous enough that if you weren't paying attention to it, it might just fly over your head. But Arslan caught it, and it's lack of meaning. She was sure that Sun had an inkling as well, judging by his raised eyebrow.
Dr. Cortez, who had remained silent, gave a chuffing laugh. "Alright children. It's getting late, and we'll never get there at this rate." he said as he opened up the gondola door. The ten of them shuffled inside, packing together like slightly loosely packed sardines. Jaune shuffled uncomfortably, trying his best not to make contact with anyone.
He practically counted the seconds down the metal box. It took four minutes and thirty two seconds for the gondola to make it to the bottom of the mountain. Almost five minutes of tense, near unbearable silence. Jaune could feel their presence, packed around him. They finally got off, giving jaune the much needed space between him and his fellow huntsmen. It allowed for him to be just out of shanking range, after all.
"Alright kids, follow me." Dr. Cortez said, strolling off into the darkening city. The lamp posts were slowly starting to power to life, the electrical hum almost bordering the sound of the city. People gawked and stared at the cluster of huntsmen, despite it being a rather common sight. Juane would never understand why people were so obsessed with the lifestyle of Huntsmen. It was not glamorous, not glorious, Or at least it should not have been. People that thought that it was did not know what they spoke of. They did not know what this life was about. Jaune looked up as they entered a new block of town. It was just barely outside of the gilded center section of town, well lit and patrolled by police hidden in alleyways.
Dr. Cortez had brought them to a single story, wide and flat building. A bright neon sign that flickered "Tao Buffet ''. Jaune recognized the kind of restaurant this was. They were all over the place. Cheap east Mistral food served all you can eat. They were particularly popular for immigrants from the eastern provinces of Mistral to start, fleeing from the seemingly ever growing crime rate. He had seen several in Orleans, and almost an order of magnitude more in Vale.
Dr. Cortez walked in with a particular swagger that could only be described as returning home to victory. He threw the ornamental doors wide open, revealing the interior of the restaurant to his students. It was more dimly lit than one would expect from an establishment, but somehow was bright enough to see everything. The smells of oily fried food wafted from the kitchen as an older lady from the cashier looked up. Her face lit up upon seeing who had just walked through the door.
"Seb! Good to see you back! Come, come!" She said as she shuffled over to the teacher. "You bring large crowd this time. Is it good for business, no?" She smiled as she opened her arms for a gun. Dr. Cortez smiled, wrapping the much smaller woman up in his arms and actually lifting her off the ground with his hug.
"Madam Cheng, it is good to see you." The hunter smiled brightly, setting her gently on the ground. "It has been too long since I've had an excuse to be back here." He was practically beaming as he looked around the building wistfully.
"You no need excuse to come here!" Mrs. Cheng said, almost insulted. Dr. Cortez only laughed as the two started to wander off into the depths of the restaurant. The eight other students followed the pair. Jaune turned to follow, but was distracted by a familiar face on the wall.
A framed picture hanging behind the register. Dr. Cortez, Mrs. Cheng and what Jaune assumed was her family. Dr. Cortez was surrounded by three other people, clearly Huntsmen of their own. One of them was an armor-clad man, taller than Cortez by a whole shoulder. He was clearly going for the knight look, something Jaune was trying to achieve when he started as a huntsman. Squatting in front of the two men was a cat faunus making peace signs at the camera. Behind the gunslinger was a truly massive woman, an absolute unit if you will. She stopped to rest her head on the good doctor's own. She must have been massive when she stood to her full height.
"Jaune, you coming?" Arslan's voice came from behind him. Jaune gave her a nod, silently trailing behind her, like a ghost.
Like her ghost.
Arslan led Jaune to a particularly long table in the corner of the restaurant. Jaune took a seat at the end, opposite from his apparent teacher. Who was the only one that remained seated, as the others had left to gather cheap all you can eat food.
"You're rather tense." The doctor said as he broke open a steamed bun. "Anything on your mind?"
Jaune shook his head. "Just a new place." He said, waving off the teacher's concern. Jaune stood up and left the table as he saw Sun's team approach. The food was piled into metal trays, set above vats of steaming water. Jaune gathered what little food caught his eye, and returned to the table. Everyone else had started to dig into their food, while Jaune just looked at the wooden chopsticks that had been set at his place. He blinked at them, picking them up experimentally. He looked around as everyone else deftly using the wooden rods with ease.
He looked back at his own hand trying to mimic the movement, but ended up fumbling helplessly with them. Arslan looked over to the struggling ranger.
"Would you like some help?" She offered, resisting the urge to snort. Reese, however, couldn't. A small suppressed snicker escaped her covered mouth. Bolin, on the other hand, had no such respect and openly chuckled at Jaune's struggles. Jaune looked at them, unimpressed.
"I think I would prefer a fork at the moment. Perhaps I can learn later." He said. A waiter, at Sebastians request, brought a set of tableware over for the ranger.
Dinner was… it was an affair. Full of questions directed to Jaune. Where he was from, why he moved to Haven, why he moved from Beacon, those kinds of questions.
Jaune squirmed in his seat slightly, unused to the attention. He nervously tapped the table in between bites.
"So, what brings you to Haven?" Sun asked.
Jaune looked at him. He could have sworn that he had already answered that question. "Beacon was not quite the right place for me. The people there were…" How does one put being ratted out due to forgery in a positive light? "Not particularly understanding or morally shaded."
Dr. Cortez raised an eyebrow at that, taking a sip of his soda.
"They were not morally gray enough?" He asked. Jaune's head bobbed side to side.
"Or too much. The world is full of hypocrites." Jaune countered as he ate some lo mien like it was spaghetti.
Bolin leaned forward. "Oh? So what, the school deemed you too unruly to keep around?" He asked, resting his chin on his hands ever so smugly. Jaune squinted at him, about to respond with equal vile.
Wait. Let's see how this plays out. B said, staying Jaune's tongue. Assume you respond with something equally piercing and witty. What happens next?
Jaune thought about it. He would return verbal fire, letting things escalate between the two of them. It would either devolve into a childish squabble, or it would come to physical violence. Jaune had no question in his ability to beat Bolin, based on what he saw back at that backwater town. He could imagine it. The table would be broken, and most likely a chair. The group behind them, two moms and their young child who was eyeing that sushi roll with suspicion, would have their dinner ruined by Jaune body slamming the monk into the plastic plates.
And if Jaune had to pull a blade?
Things would only get worse from there. No, Jaune could not let that happen. These were simple folk here. Mothers and Daughters, buddys from work, kind, unsoiled and innocent souls. Jaune simply could not start a fight here.
So Jaune calmly, carefully, put his fork down. He stood up with all the dignity he could muster. "Thank you for the meal, Doctor. It is likely I will see you tomorrow." He said as he gave the teacher a nod. Turning deftly, he walked out into the bright city night.
Arslan glared at her teammate, her hand involuntarily flexing with rage.
CRACK!
The chopsticks that she held between her fingers broke upon the pressure. She leveled a gaze that could evaporate milk with its fury. "We will have words." She snarled at her fellow monk before standing. "I'm going to make sure he makes it back to Haven."
Sun gave a whistle as she left. "She's going to tear your head off."
Dr. Cortez only leaned back in his chair. "How very interesting." he whispered as he watched her leave. "I do hope that they'll be alright."
Jaune had most certainly made a wrong turn somewhere, as he had ended up on a street that he did not recognize. It was clearly part of an art district, judging by the glowing, handcrafted signs and storefronts that littered the muraled and painted streets. He strode down the street, curiously peering through the store windows. It was dark, and such windows bathed the world in the multicolored lights, mingling with the drowning glow from the lamp post. The windows themselves were filled with art, mostly. Paintings and sculptures and masks and extravagant clothes. Pretty things, crafted to catch eyes and coins alike. Jaune continued his stroll until he came across a music shop. It was not the first he came across, but this one caught his eye. It, unlike the other neon and pastel colored shops, was of simple wood and stone. It clearly appealed to that rustic, simpler theme. In the window was a set of guitars and a single brass horn. Jaune looked at the craftsmanship, taking in each detail of the dark wood and pale cream colored plastic. Jaune knew that on an expensive version, such material would be bone instead. The other guitars were made of different woods and different materials, but frankly they were not as pretty as the center guitar. Jaune stood there for a little while, taking in the night scene.
He heard someone rushing towards him, their gait was familiar to him. Jaune looked over to the side, seeing that it was indeed Arslan that had found him.
"Ms. Altan." Jaune greeted once she approached close enough. "I didn't mean to pull you away from your meal. You did not need to come find me." Jaune said, not tearing his gaze away from the instruments. Arslan was about to say something, but noticed that the stringed instruments had captured his attention. She turned to look at the guitar.
"Do you play?" She asked the ranger. Jaune made a humming sound.
"I did, once upon a time." Jaune rasped, a small sorrowful note in his voice. "It's been a long time."
Arslan gave a thoughtful hum. "How long?" She asked, and then immediately backtracked. "If you don't mind me asking, that is." She quickly said, hoping that she had not overstepped the gray man's boundaries. She knew that he was a fairly private man who did not like to share information freely.
"Do not worry, I do not mind." Jaune chuckled. "Somewhere in the time frame of months, but it feels like decades." he sighed wistfully, trying to remember when the last time he played. Was it at some ill fated attempt to woo Weiss?
Most likely. A answered. Jaune was inclined to agree. That was the most likely case.
Arslan took a single thoughtful moment before grabbing Jaune by the hand. "Come on, let's go inside." She said, pulling the poor boy into the shop. Jaune made a light sputtering noise as he was taken by surprise at the lioness's action.
The inside of the shop was as rustic and as homey as the outside looked. A young person of a gender that could be only described as a gremlin looked at them. They looked up from their newspaper at the duo.
"Welcome?" They asked, unsure of what to do with customers so late at night, or so clearly non civilians. "I was unaware that there was a renaissance fair in town." they chuckled at their snippy joke. Arslan moved to cut them off, but Jaune met with an amenable gaze.
"My friend would like to try the guitar in the window." Arslan explained, moving the subject away from the cashier's sarcastic wit. They blinked, looking at the ranger.
"Uh, sure? Which one do you want to try?" they asked, moving out from behind the counter and into the shop itself.
"Anyone of them-" Jaune started, but his soft words were quickly overpowered by Arslan's.
"The Center one. The dark one with the white on it." She smiled. Jaune gave her a confused look that clearly asked What are you doing?
The gremlin pulled the guitar off the stand, carefully handing the woodwork to Jaune. Jaune took it in his hands reverently, slowly sitting down on a stool.
"I should warn you, it's been quite some time since I've played." jaune said, looking up with concern at Arslan. Concern for her eardrums and for his ego. She merely laughed at his worry.
"I don't mind. You can't be any worse than Reese." She offered, hoping that it would bring him some solace. Jaune gave a defeated sigh, letting his war calloused hands rest on the strings in a way that felt natural.
"Well then, Miss Altan. It Was you who dragged me in here, so it must be you who wants to hear something. So, what would you have me play?" he asked his companion.
Arslan hummed, taking a thinking look on her face. "I don't know. Nothing you would know, I am sure." She admitted. "You choose."
Jaune took a breath in, thinking about the options he had. He plucked at the strings absentmindedly, trying to find a melody within the fingers. After a moment, he recentered himself, clearly about to start. His fingers deftly plucked at the strings, the somber tone dropping out of them.
"I hurt myself today." he rasped out, his voice verberating in that deep reed like tone it had taken on from some decades in inhaling the dust from the dreaming city.
"To see if I still feel it. I focus on the pain. The only thing that's real." He continued. His mind wandered to his experiences. The countless deaths from the Dream, the endless cycle of wandering, fighting, killing, dying, and wandering again. The ceaseless violence. Ironic worthless riches that littered the world. Deep history hidden and obscured by shadow and darkness.
"The needle tears a hole, the old familiar sting kills it all away." Jaune remembered the comforting numbness that the booze he scavenged. "But I remember everything."
"What have I become? My sweetest friend, everyone I know, goes away, in the end." What would Nora think of him now? Now that he had become this thing? Something between man and dreamer, somewhere between Nameless and Jaune. What would Ruby, Ren, and everyone think if they saw him now? Battered, broken, scar covered from his ongoing stint in purgatory. He wondered if they would care.
"And you can have it all! My empire of dirt, I will let you down, I will make it hurt." Jaune's voice trembled as he continued. He took a breath, the sudden influx ebbing as quickly as it came. "I wear this crown of thorns, upon my liar's chair, full of broken thoughts I cannot repair-" Jaune continued, but was stopped by his finger slipping, playing a jarringly off key note. He made a grimacing face at the strings, as though it were their fault that he had misplayed.
"My apologies. It's been some time." he said, looking up at his companion. She gripped at the hem of her waist cloth. The words she wanted to ask were unspoken.
Jaune carefully handed back the guitar to the cashier, who carefully put it back up. "You're a little flat." they pointed out as it was put away.
Jaune made a huffing sound. "I never said I was a singer." he admitted as he headed for the door. "Thank you for the opportunity. It was… nice." The gremlin only nodded as the two left.
"What a weird couple…" They said once the door was closed.
The trip back to Haven itself was all in all relatively quiet. They walked in silence, absolute silence in Jaunes case, and rode up the gondola without so much as a word. It was not until Jaune stood outside his door that he broke the silence.
"Thank you for that." He said, stopping Arslan in her tracks.
She turned to face him. "I'm sorry?"
Jaune swallowed. "The music store. I wouldn't have played if you hadn't dragged me in." he explained. "It was fun. Thank you."
Arslan blinked at him. "Uhh, sure. I'll see you tomorrow?"
Jaune shrugged. "If you wish for that, sure." jaune slipped behind his door, closing it off from the rest of the world.
Arslan stared at the door for a moment. "You could have said good night." She said, and headed back to her room. She would see him tomorrow.
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Welp, another chapter done.
I know I promised that there would be the dream in this chapter, but that was traded out for relationship development. Oh the sacrifices I make for romance. I really like how this chapter turned out, all things considered.
We also met my favorite "Side" character, Dr. Cortez. You'll understand why soon.
But at least next chapter will reveal some of the truth about the Dream, or at least it's history.
Feel free to leave a comment, review, or idea you would like to see.
See you all soon!
Chapter 33Chapter Text
Jaune lay on his bed, looking up at the dark ceiling. He supposed that he should have fallen asleep by now, but he found that his brain would not shut down. The world was too loud and awake, the bed was too soft. Too domestic. Too forign to him.
He fell off onto the floor, half expecting his bed to be endless like the forest ground. Instead he flopped off like a fish, descending two feet onto the carpeted ground. "Oooff." jaune grunted, face down on the carpet.
You good buddy? B asked. Jaune made a grumbling sound of affirmation. "I'm good." He grunted, still laying on the carpet.
"You know what?" jaune asked with an odd amount of cheer.
What? A asked, slightly curious.
"I much rather prefer the floor." he yawned, shifting on his floor. He dragged the blanket down from the bed, wrapping it up into a pillow-like structure. He gave a stretch, and closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he was back in the wizards tower in the Dream. He looked at the magic locked door, remembering what his current task was.
"Welp, time to get on it." Jaune cracked his knuckles, ready to bring his metaphorical nuclear powered sledgehammer upon the master crafted filigree of magecraft. The lock shattered.
Jaune took to exploring the tower with relative freedom, and found it surprisingly boring. It was mostly full of reference books that Jaune was not at all qualified to even begin to comprehend. But he had found some things that were interesting. Namely he had come across clearly a scientific lab, most likely an alchemist's space. It was filled with glass vials of long expired solutions and solvents, burners long out of fuel, and covered and carefully placed instruments. Clearly, whoever was here knew that they would not be here for some time, but were expecting to come back.
They never did.
Jaune let himself wander around, trying to find anything of particular use. He found some bottles that smelled foully of tar and sulfur. On another shelf, a set of bound books with a custom spine labeled with dates. Jaune pulled one off, assuming they were some kind of encyclopedia.
xB055, The 40th day of the Season of the Boar.
I have finally gotten funding for my research. The king, Derobore VVV, has finally seen the wisdom and benefit of my proposition. I am finally one step closer to understanding the living soul. Now we just have to do the science.
Jaune scanned over the pages, figuring out what exactly was going on with this tower. The wizard, Alabast of Many Eyes, was a government funded researcher of the arcane. Jaune became more and more… morbidly intrigued as he continued his reading. "He seems a little off his rocker, doesn't he?" Jaune commented as he flipped the page. He was two books in, and he was currently reading about Alabast's search for an "Angel." Jaune at first had scoffed at the notion, but he had just encountered a freaking dragon, sooo….
Yeah. His most recent theory is literally trying to artificially birth an Angelic being… B pointed out. I think he might be off his rocker completely.
Jaune shrugged, continuing to take in the increasingly strange pages. A lot of it was devoted to the technical details and scribblings of such a project.
Jaune leaned back into his chair, brushing his hair out of his face. He had been at this for some several hours, and he was going down a rather extreme rabbit hole. But he still needed answers.
He was in the most recent journal, which had the first entry under the date of xGH7B, Squid season, day 15. He was midway through the record, where he found something interesting.
I have made a breakthrough regarding the odd pandemic sweeping this plane. Alabast wrote, instantly catching Jaune's eye.
I have found that, with my recent experiments with the subjects infected with the disease, both dead and alive, I have found something truly fascinating. The disease is fermenting the glucose and fat in their body into alcohol at an astounding rate- Jaune's brow furrowed as he leaned forward. He began to read with a fervor, trying to take in this crucial clue. As the alcohol permeates within them, it actively seems to decay their soul, driving them into an immortal madness that starts with death. The subject proceeds to become insane and bloodthirsty, seeking out whatever form of alcohol they can find, even going so far as to hunt other's blood for the residual ethanol that resides.
Jaune turned the page, his brow one of concern. At least the Doctor was correct. It was indeed a sickness, but one that attacked the soul before it did anything.
It is with great pleasure that I write this passage. I have made what is the greatest breakthrough in my career yet: This disease which is fermenting the soul into alcohol, is fermenting souls into alcohol. The physical manifestation of one's very being, one's soul, decomposed and aged and decayed into physical manifestation. It is what I have been searching for all this time. The greatest step forward to my questions, to my quest. I have never been closer before.
I have more tests to do, and my pet project needs some attention as well-
Jaune just stared at what he had just read. He fell backwards, his gaze vacant and distant.
"What." he started, breathless. It felt like his soul was a glass dome that had just taken a hammer to its top.
He knew, on some base level, that the violence of the dream was unjustified. He should have known that it was wrong, and that there was some catch.
Jaune pulled out a bottle, about to drown the information he had just read. He looked at the bottle, and thought about who's decayed soul was trapped within the glass. His face twisted and withered at the thought.
"NO!" jaune yelled, throwing the bottle across the room. He finally bent over, mourning whoever he had dared consume.
Jaune was in the depths of the Balkaram Forge. He had wandered away from Alabast the Many eyed tower in shame and rage at his blasphemy. What other sins had he committed unknowingly?
Do you think that's where we come from? A asked. Do you think we are just the coagulation of the souls you've consumed?
Jaune shuddered at the thought. I hope not. You seem too kind to me.
The Forges were surprisingly cold, as there were no fires burning in the foundries. Jaune looked at his map. There was a highly detailed circle that was labeled AFDA was just up ahead. Jaune shouldn't have been surprised that he would find one of the mechanical towers within the dwarven city. Jaune approached the staircase. At the top was a large doorway, barred shut from the outside. Jaune squinted at the large metal statues flanking the sides of the door. "I smell boss music." The dreamer was immediately suspicious. The only thing that could have made it more suspicious was if there was sudden music. Jaune took his first tentative steps up the stone stairs.
The two metal statues turned to the encroaching dreamer. "Please present your identification, unknown pedestrian."
Jaune gave them an incredulous look for a moment. And then let out a ticking hiss sound. "Ohhh, sorry about that chaps. I'm afraid I left them at home. You know how it is, I would lose my head if it wasn't attached to my neck." Jaune smiled.
The two golems sat there in an awkward silence.
"Congratulations! You have been promoted from [Pedestrian] to [Trespasser]! Prepare to be detained!" The two moved forwards aggressively, brandishing their oversized weapons.
Jaune sighed, drawing out a hammer and glassvain.
"Well, I would hate to rain on your parade, but I am terribly afraid I really want to get to the other side of that door. I have a special order waiting, and I would love to get it sometime soon. They don't do delivery, you see." Jaune said as he dipped to the side, backing away from both the staircase and the large ax in one of the golems' hands. Jaune slipped under the swing, slamming his hammer into the calf of the golem. It rang out as the metal met metal. Jaune looked at the impact, and was unenthused at the damage his hammer had done. Jaune was forced to practically throw himself out of the way as the second golem made a lumbering and sluggish strike with its own blade. Jaune hit the ground on his shoulder, using the momentum to fumble his way into a roll. He stood up quickly, teetering at the edge of the living OSHA violation.
WHY DOES IT NOT HAVE RAILS! B bemoaned with anguish as Jaune quickly regained his balance, scampering away back towards the base of the stairs.
"So, physical attacks won't do much." Jaune grunted, rolling out of another heavy handed swing. So that leaves us with magic? A asked, way too happy about that.
"You really like magic, don't you?" Jaune chuckled as he began his small little prayer. A childs' prayer for warmth and comfort in dark and cold nights. A small candle flame to ward away the lonesome chill.
And jaune turned it to the bellows. That little child's prayer, a small flickering flame in the smothering, frightening dark, grew with a sweltering heat. That small candle flicker was fed quickly, growing into a furnace fire. The orb of sparking, slag burning flame was uncomfortably hot in Jaune's hand. Deciding that that was a good sign the spell had been fully roided out, he threw the bowling ball sized orb of pyromancy at one of the golems. It simply turned to face the spellcaster, the surface metal deformed from the sudden influx of heat. The two colossal metal statues lumbered towards him, whatever enchantment that acted as their computer programming driving them forward. Jaune backed away, summoning more mana fueled attacks. Ice, thunder and lightning, flame and scorching entropy spewed forward with reckless abandon, the forces that forged all worlds spilling out of the dreamers hands like blood and wine. The twin golems seemed unphased by the barrage, despite the onslaught of arcana. Jaune made a sour face at them. "These things just don't have a fuck to give, do they?" he grumbled as he readied his blade. He was running out of steam for his spells, and would have to be a little more conservative for this fight. Jaune started to advance towards the twin statues, that singular massive metal rectangle on a handle in hand. He shouldered the weapon, approaching them.
"Oh, you, [TRESPASSER], dare approach me?" One of the golems said, its preprogrammed voice somehow sounded smug.
Jaune stared it down. "I can't beat the shit out of you without getting any closer." he said sternly, brandishing his weapons with the intent to wack.
"Oh?" The other golem asked. "Then approach all you like." The golem mocked. Shouldering his blade, the dreamer approached onto the bridge. Wither a terrible creaking sound, the golems moved to smash the intruder like a bug. Jaune rolled, using his momentum to put the energy behind his swing. It connected into the malformed leg of the first golem, melted by the intense power of the magical elements. The heavy armor breaking sword did its job incredibly well, cleaving deep into the enchanted flesh of the metal statue. The statue wobbled as one of its supporting tendons was cloven into by the heavy handed blade. A massive metal hand scraped at jaune, up ended a swath of the stairs with it. Jaune backed away from the peppering spray of stone.
Behind you. Statue's behind you. B warned his host. Jaune gave a grunt of conformation.
He turned, putting the entirety of his weight into the heavy swing. The heavy set blade practically hummed through the air as it was spun in circles. Jaune spun, practically flying at an angle as he slammed the metal slab into the knee of the other golem. The golem raised its fists, ready to smash Jaune into a pulp. Jaune scampered between the titanus sculptures legs, narrowly avoiding the slam attack. He looked at the smashed craterous divit.
A couple more of those and they'll bring the entire bridge down! Jaune thought as he backed away, preparing for another two or three swings. The two golems turned, disappointed that the intruder was unexpectedly slippery. With their ground shaking lumber, they moved towards the dreamer with clenched fists. "[TRESPASSER] PLEASE TURN YOURSELF IN" the closest one boomed. Jaune raised an eyebrow.
I don't think the prison system still works, to be honest. Jaune thought to himself. Considering that everyone's dead or… well, zombies.
So they're dead? A asked. Jaune did not answer that.
Stepping forward, the oversized blade made its sweeping blows with terrible weight. Each step was a heavy impact, a thud into the stone. The blade reached, biting into a metal shin. The returning swipe was made with a grunt, and brought the golem to a knee. The golem raised a fist, hoping to swat down the annoying blade wielder. Jaune met the overhand slap with his blade, buckling under the impact. He pushed against the blade in a desperate attempt to keep the hand at bay. He dared to look down the stairs at the other charging golem.
Wait a second.
Oh shit. A said upon seeing the several tonne death machine bearing down at him.
Brace for impact! Shield! Jump! Spell! Something! B rattled off desperate attempts to force an action. Jaune dropped his hold, bracing the massive greatsword in front of him. He willed together whatever mana he had left into a barrier in front of him and his blade. A second skin of crystalline air crackled before him, interposing itself between the rapidly approaching foot and the dreamer.
It shattered like glass upon impact. The weak crystal structure only took a fraction of the force that slammed into the shield sword, and into Jaune's arm. Flying backwards, he bounced and practically rolled up the rest of the stairs. He impacted against the closed doors with a crack. His lungs suddenly retracted with the connection as he felt like he had been flattened.
Ohh, there goes our ribs. B remarked with a wince. We should probably chug some health.
Jaune squinted, bleary eyed and grimacing from the pain. Ohh, that had hurt. "No." He grunted, refusing to notch another sinful tally to his belt. Those spirits were not his to consume, nor were they mere potions for life.
They were not his.
Jaune reached into his satchel, desperately seeking something that could be of use. He came up empty handed this time, much to his dismay. He was doing this old school then. With the metal blade and blood in hand, he would batter and rip these metal machines into submission.
Piece by piece if he had to.
He rose to his feet, shouldering his weapon. It was a laborious task, reading such a massive blade, but it was probably the best weapon he had for this fight, as blunter weapons did nothing. Because they rely on blunt impact force rather than the cutting force that baldes use, blunter weapons are effective against armored opponents due to their ability to pass on the impact to the fleshy bits inside. This makes blunt weapons, such as hammers and maces, a staple weapon of the Huntsman, particularly in areas where insectoid grimm are more common.
That was a brief excerpt from a book on the history of mechashift weapons Ruby had suggested he read. It was an interesting look into the history of huntsmen, but mostly went over his head. He was a dude walking around with a pointy metal stick and a shield.
But that particular section meant nothing in this fight for one reason. These beings were fully metal, so there was no actual flesh underneath for the hammer to pass its momentum to. It was pure metal that Jaune was slamming his blade into, which was probably not at all good for the sharpness of his sword in any manner whatsoever.
Jaune stumbled forward, ducking underneath what would have been a lethal blow. Jaune split the broadsword into its dual butcher knives, hacking away at the calf of the still standing golem. The other golem, which jaune had hamstrung right before he had his ribs kicked in, was struggling to get back onto its feet. Jaune turned with his strikes, seeing an opportunity to deal a little more damage to the enemy that was closer to death. Jaune darted away, lining himself up to the achilles heel of the kneeling golem. Chopping with the two blades, chunk after chunk from the tendon.
Number two, heading your way at alarming speeds. B pointed out. Jaune acknowledged the warning, dancing away to the top of the stairs. He wheezed with his burning ribs. They ached and creaked with the exertion that was forced upon them. Jaune slumped, taking a moment to catch his breath. The handicapped golem slammed its fists into the stone, just barely out of reach of the dreamer. It repeated the action again in vain. Jaune took a step back, looking down at the spiderweb lines forming under its fists.
I was being sarcastic when I said he was going to bring the stairs down. Jaune thought to himself with a smile. He knew it could not hide the aching guilt in his soul. Not from himself, but perhaps it could spare those in the waking world his sorrow? Who there cared for his sorrow, anyway? Jaune shook himself out of his mournful musing, and back into the fight on his hands.
The golem dragged itself forward, trying to reach the dreamer. Jaune pulled out his maul, and attacked the weakened points of the bridge. The bridge shook under the combined weight of the golems and Jaune's damaging blows. The golem continued to move forward, its buddy approaching at a much faster rate. Jaune made a face of only major panic as he whacked at the base of the stairs with renewed vigor. "Please break, please break, please break." jaune muttered, akin to a prayer. The standing golem took a heavy step forward, the full weight of the golem pressing into the compromised bridge. A sharp cracking sound came from the supports below them. If you looked at the cross section of the bridge, you would see a fault within the stone. Originally only a mere fraction of an inch long crack within the center of the supporting stone, the constant impact from the heavyset metal golems had rubbed and shifted against the fracture, widening it bit by bit. At the very end of the battle, with the slamming of massive metal fists and large hammered strikes, the crack had succinctly widened to a concerning width. Enough that OSHA would have had a conniption, if they had existed at all in the dreamscape. The golems froze, looking at the source of the sound. Jaune tapped it again, sending another crack echoing through the chasm. The stairs dipped down as the spiderweb fractures suddenly widened, fully cutting off the top of the stairs from the actual surface it was connected to.
Jaune stepped back, letting gravity do what it did best. The stairs collapsed under the combined tonnage of the metal statues, sending them plummeting into the abyss below.
Jaune peered over the edge, making sure that the metal creatures had indeed fallen, hopefully to their deaths.
Jaune collapsed onto his back, letting out a heaving gasp. "Well." he managed through the pain in his ribs. "I think that went rather well." Jaune said, looking up at the ceiling. B gave him an incredulous look.
Bitch, you broke most of your ribs, and I'm pretty sure you punctured a lung. He countered, scolding the dreamer like a distressed father. Jaune merely waved him off.
"I'll be fine. Just give me a moment to recover." He said, taking the post battle peace to rest. He spent quite some time just laying there, casting whatever healing spells he had the energy for. His supply of sanctified spirits remained untouched, but not forgotten in his bag.
Eventually, he felt in good enough shape to continue on his quest into the unknown. With a heave, the doors flew open. A long hallway, littered with long dead mechanical parts and rusted chassis of androids. Jaune strolled down the hall, picking over the ruined husks of machines for anything that might catch his eye. He would have to try to reconstruct one if it tickled his fancy later. Jaune heard a similar chugging sound to one he had listened to so long ago, in the bowels of the eternal city. He raised an eyebrow, moving quickly to the source.
He came upon a glowing mound of mechanical machinery, pulsing with the forge fire red glow in between the cracks and dents. The room was sweltering hot, fueled by the fire of the great manufacturing machine. A jointed mechanical arm poked up through the mound of whirring mechanical parts.
"I AM AFDA PRIME, HELLO HUNTER." The Machine said, to which Jaune blinked.
"I was unaware there were multiple of you." He admitted, not entirely surprised that there were indeed multiple copies of AFDA. It made sense, considering how important and useful AFDA must have been in the Eternal City.
"YOU ORDERED A CUSTOM ITEM, CORRECT?" AFDA responded, jarring Jaune out of his thinking. His head tilted to the side, frowning in a confused manner at the machine.
"How do you know that I made a custom item, AFDA?" The dreamer asked, wiping his brow with his sleeve. He took off his cape, as it was far too warm for the article of clothing.
The robot curled back around the top of its hill-like structure. "ALL AFDA SYSTEMS ARE CONNECTED TO THE CENTRAL AFDA SERVER HUB, AND ALL INFORMATION IS READILY ACCESSIBLE FROM ALL AFDA LOCATIONS." The machine said. Jaune nodded. It was sound reasoning and design structure. It acted like the CCT back home. Juane had one more question though.
"What makes you AFDA Prime, instead of, you know, just an AFDA?"
The Machine was quiet for a moment. "I AM THE LARGEST AND FIRST AFDA INSTALLATION." AFDA Prime answered. Jaune nodded.
He walked towards the interfacing screen. "Do you have my shield ready?"
AFDA whirred, the internal mechanisms coming to life. "NO. PLEASE STAND BY WHILE CONSTRUCTION IS UNDERWAY." Jaune rolled his head back as the machine started to make metallic clanging sounds as it started to create the shield that had been added to its database so long ago.
It took two hours for the machine to let out an almost startling ding, sending Jaune to his feet. He had taken out a sheet of music he had been writing, slowly figuring out the math behind the chords.
"Is it done?" The dreamer asked hopefully and expectantly. AFDA did not respond, but instead carted out a steaming metal bracer. Gentle curves glided along the metal work, the overly large wrist watch shaped plate in the center betraying what mechanical aspects it could have. Jaune took off his current archer's guard, trading it for the machine built shield. His fist clenched, activating the trigger hidden in the extended palm guard. That noticeable metal cap popped outwards, a series of overlapping segments not unlike the blades of a fan unfolding from the inner mechanisms. Jaune smiled, retracting the trickcraft.
"Thank you." he said to the machine.
"I AM PROGRAMMED TO BE OF SERVICE." AFDA replied in its mechanical tone.
Annnnd we are leaving. A said, turning Jaune away to the exit.
The dreamer looked at his new toy. I wonder what good you would have done if I had you sooner. He wondered. I'm sorry, Reed. I would like to think that this could have saved you.
Jaune shook his head. He had many regrets, and he would say that his failure to that sacred duty was his largest. His greatest regret.
Reed should be remembered. A somber commented. Jaune nodded.
"He should." He said, still looking at his shield. "You don't have a name, do you?" he asked for the wrist brace. It, of course, did not answer. It couldn't, being a piece of clockwork and all.
"I have a good name for you." Jaune decided.
"I'll call you Reed's Regret."
Jaune found a good spot to rest, pulling out his map. He would have to cross though what was probably the slummier part of the undercity to get back to the central hub, and back to the dragon. He hated to say it, but he did kind of want to kill the dragon. It seemed straight up evil, if the records and personal documents he had salvaged and scavenged meant anything.
Jaune sat on a balcony, brooding over the recent events and discoveries, looking at the violent rabble of drunken duergar squabble amongst each other. They were in front of the Western gate, barring his path.
Why are we waiting around? A dozen duergar should be no match for you, Jaune.
It's not right. Jaune thought bitterly, looking at the deceased things. I pity them. Jaune mourned the poor drunken things, decaying in their own filth as their souls soured into spirit, poisoning their blood and minds.
Look at them, jaune. If they could see themselves, if they could know what they had become, do you think they would want to be alive? B asked jaune, posing the moral question. If you pitied them, you would put them out of their misery.
They wouldn't want to be dead. Jaune responded, his voice full of a guilty grief.
No one wants to die, Jaune. B sighed the obvious statement. But do you honestly think that the sham of existence they suffer through is life?
Jaune scoffed. Since when was your job to pose moral quandaries?
My job is to keep you alive! B snapped, rising to his feet. To make sure that you wake up tomorrow morning, to make sure you get out of this place!
Jaune's face twisted in anger. At the cost of my humanity?! He snarled at the figment.
That is A's job, not mine! B snapped at him, much like a chihuahua. Snarly, pent up, and would hurt if they were any bigger. My job is to keep you alive! Not to keep your dignity intact!
Jaune returned his own snarl. "What is the point of being alive if you kill what makes me human for it?!" He yelled, slamming his fist into the wall. The section he punched crumbled into dust, the fragments blacked by the magical energy.
"Why is my life so fucked up?" he mourned. Standing, he left in search of a routed path, shed away from any conflict with what had once been human creatures. It was in the depths of the maze like alleyways that he found a gravesite.
I wish to sleep no longer, knowing what sins my dreams have seen.
He had written that in his notes shortly after his encounter with AFDA. he didn't understand why this realm had to have been so vile, so dark. So full of gray.
And so he closed his eyes, dying back to the waking world once more. He hoped it would, by some miracle, be better than the subconscious depths of his own mind.
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TO BE CONTINUED