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The Hero of Kvatch sighed as he finished the maintenance of his Akaviri katana. Ever since he showed his skills during the spar, his aunt decided to allow him to take on teams by himself and he was sure he made some pissed at him. Well, it's lonely at the top and unlike Tamriel, Mundus, or any realm of Oblivion, there was no deathmatch happening soon.
'My skills would stagnate at this rate,' Now, why shouldn't he just summon a Daedra to fight? Well, he did not want to risk anything so he kept his expertise in Conjuration on a short leash. Better be safe than sorry after all. He can't even use his magic openly as he is still in the process of investigating possible Necromancer/lich #1.
"Nora,"
"Yes, fearless leader?" Nora Valkyrie, his apprentice of sorts, suddenly popped out from the wall, dropping a cloth of sorts to the ground. Why she did that, Jaune did not know.
"Can you look over at Pyrrha and Ren's training today?" As much as he did not want to leave his team unsupervised, he needed to do some investigations. He trusted his team but he'd rather not have them get in trouble.
"Of course, fearless leader!" Nora replied with a grin. "But... you have to let me borrow your Ninja robe,"
"I have a better idea," Jaune said with a smile as he used his 'semblance' to pull the chest from under his bed. While he did not learn how to fight from his family, they taught him many things such as sewing, carpentry, cooking, and numerous things unrelated to combat. Things that made him earn money in Tamriel. Legally. "You are now my official apprentice and I think it's time that you get your own,"
While he had focused more on Alteration, that did not mean his mastery of enchanting suffered. Combining his knowledge of magic, sewing, and numerous books about Dust sewing, the Blonde gifted his bomber. The pink bomber gasped the moment the chest opened.
It was a set of robes with her color scheme. It was a long, pink, and white sleeveless coat with light blue lapels and a white belt closed by a black belt with a pouch on the left side. The front of the coat has two heart-shaped cutouts near the bottom. It was lined with numerous dusts and two enchantments.
"It's a tradition for students to have a robe given to them by their teachers," Jaune said as he looked at Nora. "By giving you that, I recognize you, Nora Valkyrie, as my apprentice," Jaune said with a smile. While he knew he was the only one who could use Magicka but he could teach Nora how to call the storm using her semblance and/or dust.
"I... thank you, fearless leader..." Nora whispered as tears fell from her eyes.
-=0=-
Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon Academy and once a great mage, paced in his office. The dagger he saw on the screen. It was faint but he had spent his first life as a mage and while different from what he knew, he was sure it was Magic. The loss of most of the first race of humankind that wielded magic caused by his beloved's desire to get him back removed the knowledge of most kinds of magic back then but even now
It was even different from the ones used by those from the Sanctuaries that can only be reached by him or other people he permitted such as Qrow, and Glynda. The sanctuaries were formed and maintained in a separate yet connected dimension to Remnant where the humans there could still wield magic due to being descendants of the first races of men, only separated from the realm of Remnant by him and with the help of the relic of Knowledge in a desperate attempt to stop his ex-wife from conscripting them.
'Mr. Arc owns the dagger,' Ozpin thought as he turned around and sent a message to Qrow and Glynda.
"That won't be needed, professor Ozpin," Raising his cane, Long Memory, the headmaster of the Academy looked at the source of the voice to see a void. No, not a void, a person, human.
Jaune Arc, dressed in regal blue robes with golden embroidery that split from the middle, said with a smile.
"So, how does it feel to live for so long?" The Archmage of the Arcane Univesity asked with a smile. "Do you prefer tea or wine? Frankly, I would recommend the wine, it goes well with cheese,"
Storms
Crystals
Magic
Madness
Sanity
Death
Life
Undead
Living
Void
In an instant, a symphony of sensations assaulted the senses of the ancient mage. Mr. Arc was a mage. A mage skilled enough to pass under his senses.
"I would like the tea, Mr. Arc," The headmaster of Beacon Academy said with a soft smile, not wanting to displease the Blonde.
"Hmm, the emerald Knight? I wonder how you got that title," eyes narrowing behind the glasses he wore, the headmaster stared at the Blonde. Feeling something missing, the ancient mage pushed magic into his eyes which now went wide open.
Spirits, remnants, magic.
Life
Memories
Past
Present
Knowledge
Souls
Ancient residues of souls surrounded the Blonde and took the form of numerous orbs. Circling the smiling Blonde, Ozpin saw how magic itself joyously danced and swayed around the Blonde. How?
"Hmm? That long?" Jaune asked with a thoughtful look on his face as he talked with the spirits.
"It's actually from my knowledge of Necromancy," Jaune replied, sending a shiver down Ozpin's spine. Necromancy, the dark art of reanimating the dead, was one of the most dangerous kinds of magic to exist. Powerful necromancers could exist after death via Lichdom or by binding their souls to objects and his student was one. "Not that good compared to that person," Ozpin sweated as he listened to the conversations between the spirits and the student.
The long time of his magical skills not being practiced made it hard for him to follow the conversations between the Blonde and spirits, only allowing him to catch bits and pieces. Focusing more magic on himself, the headmaster looked at the Blonde.
A dragon
A drum
A red diamond
A Storm
A void of nothingness
A gray fox
A warrior
A rotting corpse riddled with worms
Alive yet dead
Dead yet Alive
Living yet Undead
Undead yet living
Sane yet insane
Insane yet sane
He tore through the veil
He saw through the lies
The truth was revealed
Images, a kaleidoscope
All at once
An amalgamation
The headmaster dropped his cane and mug. The ancient mage saw it all, the magical wounds and the history.
A boy so young to be thrust into such a condition
to have a reason to abandon them
yet he fought.
The wizard wept,
"Professor, are you alright?"
The second time, the truth was revealed and he saw it. A hungry void behind the student, gazing at him, ever-changing yet not changing. Empty yet not empty. A void. Nothingness. Strumming a song of change. Changing non-stop. He saw it and his mind tried to comprehend it. His ancient soul that held arcane might bowed and wavered,
Death.
To seek it was death.
The cessation of his existence.
Nothingness.
Then it changed once more. This time, he saw it. The body of his student riddled with... worms. Flesh decaying, body rotting yet still moving. Magic thrummed around the poor boy as hundreds of... no, thousands of wriggling worms made the body move. A skin composed of wriggling worms that feasted on the decaying flesh while healing as they passed by. He could smell the scent of rot, decay, and death, as the worms wriggled, feasted, and restored the flesh of his student as a pair of soulless, lifeless eyes gazed upon him. A figure dressed in red robes with a pair of eyes glaring out of the shadows glared from behind his student.
King
Power
Brothers
Undead
Undeath
Death
Decay
Rot
Corpse
Corpses
A lake
A sea
A world
A world of corpses.
"Headmaster!" Since when had he been vomiting on the floor? When has he last felt this fear? "Aunt Glyn, I need your help!"
Fighting through the fear, the headmaster of the Academy, trapped in crystals looked at his student. 'To think he fought someone like that,' He thought to himself. Time, time was the magical skill he was the most compatible with, and while he lost most of his magic through ironically, time itself and the creation of the maidens, it was this mastery of time that allowed him to look through images of the past.
"Mr. Arc..." He must fight through the pain, the sudden use and drainage of his magic. 'Mr. Arc's magic no doubt,' Ozpin thought as he noticed how quickly his aura and magical reserves dropped the longer he stayed in the crystalline prison. The pain in his body told him enough. "What... is your... favorite fair...y tale?"
'Please get my message, Mr. Arc,' Ozpin, no... Ozma thought as he felt his magical pool get restored. 'Heh, to think he altered the spell in an instant. I wouldn't mind testing his skill,' Ozma thought just as the darkness embraced him.
-=-=-
Holding the headmaster in the Crystalline prison of Black magic designed to restrain mages, the Blonde barely managed to stop the headmaster from tearing himself open. Why did he do that?!
Seeing sanity return to the headmaster, the Blonde immediately reversed the effects of the prison's magic-devouring properties, returning and boosting the magical reserves of the ancient mage while keeping him in place.
'Time, my training with the Psijics was cut short by Umaril's arrival but to think this is only a fraction of what the headmaster is capable of,' Jaune thought as he waited. He could feel the power held by the headmaster and he knew that it was weaker than it normally was. It reminded him of the numerous undead creatures he had fought.
A wave of pressure covered the divine Crusader just as he heard the flapping of wings. In a yellow flash, the Blonde disappeared just in time for a large sword to cut through his afterimage. Instincts honed through numerous life-or-death situations, the floor of the Headmaster's office morphed and embraced his attacker as numerous spikes formed and pressed gently on the 'kill spots' of a human body.
Larynx,
Spine,
Lungs,
Liver,
Jugular,
Subclavian artery,
Kidneys,
Heart
His attacker glared at him with pissed-off eyes that morphed into one of surprise laced with fear at the counterattack that happened the moment he landed on the ground after the attack.
Wait a second...
Black hair
Red Cape
Big sword
Alcoholic.
"Ah, you must be Qrow Branwen," the man, Qrow, glared at him. "Ruby and Yang told me a lot about you, so calm down. I do not want to kill you," Qrow could only sharpen his glare the moment he heard the name of his nieces. "By the way, do you want some wine while I explain? It goes well with cheese,"
-=-=-=
Glynda Goodwitch just arrived at the office of her boss. Hearing the situation from her nephew, the headmistress followed Qrow as fast as she could and it only took her a few minutes to do so. Cursing her heels, she had prepared herself for combat to protect and save her nephew. Ozpin can protect himself if he wanted but her nephew came first.
The moment she arrived at the office, her glasses almost fell off from her face.
She saw Ozpin surrounded by shimmering crystals while Jaune, her favorite (only) nephew, sat by her colleague, the both of them drank from bottles of wine with a wheel of cheese between them. She saw the damage done to Ozpin's office.
Wait, wine? Is her adorable little nephew drinking wine?! With Qrow?!
"So, Aunt Glynda used to dress up to catch General Ironwood's attention?"
"Yeah, kid! I saw her go to a fashion boutique one time I was in Vale." Qrow said with a grin as he took a swig. "I heard her go. 'I hope James likes this dress.'" Qrow said, doing a pathetic imitation of Glynda's voice.
"Reminds me of that time I helped Saphron get a date with Terra."
"Must be genetic, kid," Qrow said with a laugh.