Shards of Reminisce Ch. 66 (Patreon)

I finish crushing the head of the final Centinel with my boot, feeling the satisfying crunch before it quickly dissipates into black smoke.

As expected, a notification flashes across my vision.

[Dungeon Duty: The Scarlet Sink - Level 1 Complete!]

I smirk, dismissing the window with a thought.

"Status."

Ma'iq Rak'han Race–Feline Faunus Age–18 Class: The Pugilist Level–26 (97%) Mentor–Neopolitan Apprentice–Jeanne d'Arc

HP–1600/1600 [100 regen per minute] MP–2740/2740 [350 regen per minute] SP–4960/4960 [340 regen per minute]

STR–122 (+5) END–92

 DEX–110 (+2) INT–63

 WIS–56

 CHA–58 LCK – 1

 DEX–110 (+2) INT – 63 WIS – 56 CHA – 58 LCK – 1

Status: [The Big One protects yes, yes!] [Clock Tower: Do you hear them yet?] BLOCKED [Ȳ̶̨̼ỏ̪͔͍ͯ͜͞ú̴̷͔̦̥͍̊͞ ̴̘̲̤̮̠ͦͣͣ̕̕͟c̷͍̩̭͚͔̯̩̓͒ͭ̈́̿̕a̢̡̛̻̭̝̗̗ͥ̉ͬ̀͗̌҉n̸̡̡̡͔͖̺͇̭̯̊̄ͧ͑̍́'̱̗̼̞̱͉̃̾ͬ͂́̃̈͟͜͟t̨̨̨̠͓̗̩̙̙͆̏̅̑̀̅ͮ ̬̙̳̬͖͎́͗ͧ͊̾͗͊͢͜ḛ̷̡̹̟͙̖͍̒̊̈́͌ͥ͞ŝ̴̸̶͍̺̹́̇̓̉͜c̺̀̆́̄ͩͪ͘ͅa̸͚̭̪̔̌̈́p͎͆̐e ▒] (PERMANENT)

The Road to 30: Provides a multiplicative 100% bonus to all sources of EXP

Lovers comfort: 15% increase from non-combat sources EXP (58:00 hours remaining)

Apprenticeship: 25% of exp gained from apprentice actions. [Well Fed, 39:12 minutes remaining]

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Why did my EXP gain fall off this much?

I was hoping to level up, especially now, because I've leveled up my other jobs so much over the past few weeks. I wanted to see the big gains, watch all those stat increases stack up and see a massive boost right from the get-go.

But the gap is so small. Just 3% away. I could easily find and kill some Grimm on the surface to push it over and earn my next level.

Also, I like my stats being higher thanks to the equipment I crafted. And I’m sure that the higher level my jobs are the better gear I will craft which in turn will be higher stats increases.

Before I can dwell on it more, the earth trembles beneath my feet. My ears perk up immediately, swiveling toward the source. A moment later, the exit opens just like last time; hole in the ceiling leading back to the surface, light streaming down from above.

But then I'm surprised when another hole opens up in the ground nearby.

Obviously, I approach carefully, crouching at the edge and peering down. It's definitely a hole, though I can see the floor below thanks to the light coming from the exit above. A cool breeze wafts up from it, carrying that same weird metallic-earth smell that permeates this whole place.

I look at the hole leading to the surface, then back down at the one leading deeper, and quickly understand the meaning behind the name of this dungeon. That hole below leads to Level 2, which means a chance to easily level up and get a good head start on reaching the next level too.

More EXP.

More stat gains.

The decision is easy.

I simply jump.

The landing is perfect, my knees absorbing the impact smoothly. My tail flicks out for balance as I straighten up, already scanning my surroundings.

Moments later, the entrance closes itself with a grinding sound of stone on stone. Now I have to finish this level if I want to get out.

It's darker than the level above, but the flashlight from my Proto-Allagan Mask works perfectly, casting a bright cone of light ahead. My senses go on full alert for any immediate danger; ears swiveling, eyes darting in every direction.

But nothing happens for a while.

Only then do I allow myself to properly look around at the new surroundings, which are... basically the same as the last level. Not surprising, really.

I venture forth, my footsteps echoing slightly in the enclosed space.

Soon enough, I find the difference with Level 2; the path diverges. A fork in the tunnel splits left and right.

I go left first, keeping my guard up as I walk. The tunnel winds slightly, then narrows, then... dead end. Just a solid wall of packed earth and stone.

"Great…" I mutter, letting out an annoyed sigh.

I turn around and retrace my steps until I reach the fork again. This time, I take the right path.

This tunnel is longer, wider, and eventually opens up into a large chamber just like in the first level. But the only difference is that there's no dead guy on the ground this time.

'Class Change: Gladiator'

My sword and shield materialize in my hands, and I raise them both, ready for whatever's waiting. My eyes scan the chamber for threats.

Then they finally land on something out of place: a small mound of dirt near the center of the room, perfectly circular and raised about two feet high.

Since it's the only unusual thing here, I focus entirely on that mound. That has to be some sort of trap or trigger to lure me in closer. So I won't do that. I'll just wait.

After a short while of tense silence, the dirt explodes outward.

As expected, a Grimm emerges which turns out to be a... Deathstalker?

I blink in confusion because that's definitely a Deathstalker, but smaller. Way smaller. I haven't actually seen one in person before, but I know Deathstalkers are supposed to be massive, like the size of a house. This one is probably only the size of a car at most. Maybe even smaller.

A juvenile? Although I can see it already has a lot of the bone armor plating that adult Grimm develop.

All eight of its glowing red eyes land on me simultaneously. It raises its pincers menacingly, clacking them together with sharp click-click sounds, and its poisonous tail arcs high over its armored back, the stinger dripping with venom that hisses when it hits the ground.

That indeed looks dangerous.

Then it shrieks; a high-pitched, chittering sound that echoes off the walls and makes my ears flatten against my skull. Fuck, that was like scratching a plate with a fork.

I frown and plant my feet firmly, raising my shield. "Alright, you bastard. Come on."

That's all the invitation it needs. The Grimm charges head-first, scuttling across the ground with surprising speed. 

But I brace for impact.

The Deathstalker crashes into my shield. But my stance holds with little problem; my arm isn't even rattled by the impact. The monster actually bounces off from the sheer force of the rebound, stumbling backward and exposing its soft underbelly.

That's when I act.

I dart forward, closing the distance before it can recover, and stab my sword directly into the exposed belly with all my strength.

The Grimm shrieks in pain, thrashing wildly. Black ichor sprays from the wound as I twist the blade viciously and yank it free, jumping back to avoid the retaliatory swipe from its tail.

It takes only a few more seconds of thrashing before it goes limp and dissolves.

[Dungeon Duty: The Scarlet Sink - Level 2 Complete!]

"Heh. Pretty easy." I straighten up, rolling my shoulder and checking my shield for damage. Not even a scratch.

[Congratulations! You have leveled up!]

"Finally."

'Status'

Ma'iq Rak'han Race–Feline Faunus Age–18 Class: The Pugilist Level–27 (27%) Mentor–Neopolitan Apprentice–Jeanne d'Arc

HP–1720/1720 [120 regen per minute] MP–2970/2970 [350 regen per minute] SP–5360/5360 [450 regen per minute]

STR–134 (+5) END–100

 DEX–123 (+2) INT–70

 WIS–68

 CHA–64

 LCK–1

 DEX–123 (+2) INT – 70 WIS – 68 CHA – 64 LCK – 1

Status: [The Big One protects yes, yes!] [Clock Tower: Do you hear them yet?] BLOCKED [Ȳ̶̨̼ỏ̪͔͍ͯ͜͞ú̴̷͔̦̥͍̊͞ ̴̘̲̤̮̠ͦͣͣ̕̕͟c̷͍̩̭͚͔̯̩̓͒ͭ̈́̿̕a̢̡̛̻̭̝̗̗ͥ̉ͬ̀͗̌҉n̸̡̡̡͔͖̺͇̭̯̊̄ͧ͑̍́'̱̗̼̞̱͉̃̾ͬ͂́̃̈͟͜͟t̨̨̨̠͓̗̩̙̙͆̏̅̑̀̅ͮ ̬̙̳̬͖͎́͗ͧ͊̾͗͊͢͜ḛ̷̡̹̟͙̖͍̒̊̈́͌ͥ͞ŝ̴̸̶͍̺̹́̇̓̉͜c̺̀̆́̄ͩͪ͘ͅa̸͚̭̪̔̌̈́p͎͆̐e ▒] (PERMANENT)

The Road to 30 : Provides a multiplicative 100% bonus to all sources of EXP

Lovers comfort: 15% increase from non-combat sources EXP (57:40 hours remaining)

Apprenticeship: 25% of exp gained from apprentice actions. [Well Fed, 19:12 minutes remaining]

I can't hold back my grin. This shows how worth it was to spend all those weeks leveling up my other jobs; the payoff is totally worth those sleepless nights of grinding.

But my celebration is cut short when the earth trembles again and two holes open; one leading to the surface and another leading deeper down into the earth, though this exit looks a lot less illuminated than the previous one.

It only takes me a moment to consider my options. Part of me wants to keep going, push deeper, see how far this dungeon goes and how much EXP I can get since I’m on a streak of successes.

But another part of me knows I should quit while I'm ahead. I got my level up. Mission accomplished. Going deeper would be gain the bare minimum for each level up which I don’t want.

Then again, when has being overly cautious ever gotten me anywhere?

Fuck it. I've come this far. One more shouldn’t hurt besides I doubt I will gain enough EXP to actually level up.

I take a step toward the deeper hole…

And then I pause, my ears twitching. Something feels... off. Not dangerous necessarily, just... wrong somehow. Like a nagging feeling at the back of my mind telling me this is a bad idea.

Actually, no. Fuck it. I'll come back later when I'm better prepared. No point pushing my luck when I've already gotten what I came for. And this weird paranoia saved my ass too so I trust it.

So, dismissing my weapons back to my inventory, I climb all the way up through the exit hole. The ascent is easier than I expected, with convenient handholds and footholds appearing in the earth wall as if the dungeon itself is helping me leave.

Just like the other times, I emerge somehow in the Emerald Forest. 

I take a deep breath of fresh air, stretching my arms above my head and feeling my spine pop satisfyingly.

"Hey there, kiddo. Got a minute?"

I freeze mid-stretch, my ears shooting straight up.

That voice came from directly behind me, which should be impossible because my ears would've picked up someone approaching. 

Slowly, I turn around.

Leaning casually against a tree about ten feet away is that Qrow guy, arms crossed, smirking at me and his red eyes are fixed on me.

"Ah… why are you here?"

He pushes off from the tree, taking a few lazy steps closer. "Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. What's a kid like you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, popping out of the ground like some kind of mole?"

Shit. Shit shit shit. Did he see me come out of the dungeon entrance? How long has he been watching? What does he know?

"Just... training," I say carefully, keeping my expression neutral. "Hunting some Grimm, you know. Normal stuff."

"Uh-huh." Qrow doesn't look convinced. His eyes flick to the spot where the dungeon entrance was, which is now just normal forest floor again, completely indistinguishable from the surrounding area. "And the whole 'emerging from underground' thing?"

Fuck.

“I will need you to accompany me to Oz’s office.”

-----------------------------------------------

I'm sitting in the office of Beacon's Headmaster, which is at the top of that really tall tower, and I never thought I'd find myself in this sort of place. Or that I would be back to Beacon so soon.

And honestly? I really didn't want to come. But there's not much I can do against someone like Qrow after I tried to make a run for it and got easily caught. The bastard's fast and pretty sneaky, and trying to fight him would've been suicide. So the best option was to not resist and just go along with it.

Looking at the optimistic side, I could pay Jeanne another visit while I'm here. Either way, I'm stuck seated in this chair, waiting for the old man to show up.

My tail lashes irritably behind me as I glance around the office. Old gears turning slowly on the walls, bookshelves filled with ancient-looking books, and an actually impressive view of the academy grounds and the forest beyond. The whole place screams "pretentious wizard tower" in a way that makes my fur stand on end.

Soon enough, I hear the ring of the elevator.

I don't turn around. I just wait, my ears tracking the sound of footsteps and the rhythmic tapping of a cane against the floor. The old man slowly makes his way to his chair and takes a seat, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the desk and his hands steepled in front of his face in that contemplative pose that probably makes him feel wise or something.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Rak'han. It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"No thanks to you," I shoot back.

Ozpin's expression doesn't change, still maintaining a calm demeanor. "I understand you're upset about the circumstances of our last encounter, but you must understand; a crime is a crime at the end of the day, and it needs to be addressed accordingly. The law doesn't make exceptions simply because-"

"Fuck you, old man." I cut him off. "You talked all big about being fair and just or how you would help me, and you still fucked my life over. Because of that record, I got kicked out of my apartment. I was homeless. I lost my job. I lost everything."

The last part is stretching the truth, but I'm still pinning it all on him, anyway. It's all fucking related somehow.

"Actions have consequences, Mr. Rak'han."

"CONSEQUENCES?!" I explode, my hands gripping the armrests so hard my fingers dig into the leather. "What about HER consequences?! Yang was the one who started it! She punched me first! I was minding my own business, riding a bike I bought fair and square, and she assaulted me! And you still threw me in a cell while that bitch walked free!"

"You know what the best part is? Nobody gave a single fuck about me before any of this! I was just another street kid trying to survive, and nobody cared. But the moment I do something that inconveniences someone important, suddenly everyone's paying attention! Suddenly there are consequences and laws!"

I'm standing now, not even sure when I got up. "Where were all these rules when my landlord was making me sign bullshit contracts because I'm a Faunus? Where was justice when I got fired from my job because some asshole made up lies about me? Where were YOU when I was getting fried by racist cops who got off on shocking me until my clothes burned?!"

My chest is heaving, my tail lashing wildly behind me. "But sure, let's talk about consequences. Let's talk about how fair the system is. Let's talk about how I'm the bad guy here for stealing something stupid, while one of your students gets to do whatever they want!"

Even though I somewhat settled things with Yang by getting even, it was still her fucking fault that everything went to shit in the first place.

I lean forward, my hands on his desk now. "So don't you dare lecture me about consequences and responsibility when you've never had to face real consequences in your entire fucking life. You've always had power. You've always had options. You've never had to choose between eating or paying rent. You've never had to sleep on the streets wondering if you'll wake up to someone stabbing you in the gut."

Ozpin just lets me talk. Lets me go on and on, getting it all out of my system against this prick. When I finally run out of steam, breathing hard, he tilts his head slightly and allows the faintest hint of a smile to cross his lips.

"Are you finished?"

I grit my teeth but force myself to sit back down, crossing my arms. "For now."

"Good." He leans back in his chair, his fingers still steepled. "Now then, Mr. Rak'han, do you truly take me for a fool?"

I blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "What?"

"I may be old, but that is hardly an excuse for you to attempt such blatant lies in my presence." His tone is still calm, but there's steel underneath it now. "I know you stole Miss Xiao Long's motorcycle. It required nothing more than a proper investigation and some time to get the facts straight. And while the first contract you signed expunged those crimes from your record, let us be clear; that was a very under-the-table arrangement. Such things can always be... revisited."

My blood runs cold.

"Thanks for a very competent lawyer, you spent only a single night in jail, instead of the week which you signed." Ozpin continues, his eyes boring into mine. "All things considered, you got off quite easy, Mr. Rak'han. And that's not even counting the other infractions; such as the books that went missing from our academy library."

He pauses, letting that sink in.

"Don't think we didn't notice."

Oh, this fucking bastard…

I feel my hands curl into fists, nails digging into my palms. "How the fuck is threatening me going to make me cooperate with you, then?" I spit out, leaning forward. "Oh wow, you have such power over me, dangling it like a treat so I'll wag my stupid tail or something? So should I bend over and take it? Or do you want me to drop to my knees and beg?" I flip him off with both hands. "Go fuck yourself, Ozpin."

I won't take this lying down. I accepted being dragged here, but that doesn't mean I have to play along with his bullshit. If it comes down to it, I'll fight my way out. Or call Neo to help me escape. I have options now. 

I'm not some helpless fuck, anymore.

However, much to my surprise, Ozpin just chuckles softly like I've said something funny. He reaches up and removes his spectacles, breathing on them lightly before pulling a cloth napkin from his pocket and cleaning them.

"You have changed quite a bit since our last meeting, Mr. Rak'han. I can tell." He puts his glasses back on, adjusting them slightly. "You're showing a lot more confidence now. More self-assurance. That's such a valuable trait to have when developing into adulthood."

I narrow my eyes, suspicious of the sudden shift in tone. "What's your point?"

"My point is that I'm not here to recriminate you or attempt to blackmail you, as you so crudely put it." He folds his hands on the desk. "I simply wanted to talk due to some... interesting developments that have come to my attention."

"That is?"

"Miss d'Arc's brief episode that occurred weeks ago."

My ears perk up immediately. "What about it?"

"Obviously, that wasn't your fault; let me be absolutely clear on that regard." Ozpin raises a hand in a placating gesture. "Semblances react differently depending on the individual, and we cannot predict when they manifest or how they work. That's the nature of the individual’s soul."

"Okay, so?" 

"I've been quite curious about your semblance ever since that incident." Ozpin leans back in his chair, studying me. "Please, Mr. Rak'han. Would you mind using your semblance right now? Just a simple demonstration."

I frown. He's asking me to use my inventory, in front of him which... yeah, isn't really my semblance. It just looks like a storage semblance because those are a thing that exists. But I can do that easily enough without giving anything away.

I summon a Pepsi I had stored and crack it open, taking a long sip while maintaining eye contact with him.

Ozpin just frowns slightly, a hint of disappointment crossing his features. "Would you mind doing it again? And allow me to touch you while you do so?"

I lower the can, raising an eyebrow. "That's weird. Why?"

"Call it curiosity. An attempt to understand what affected Miss d'Arc and how to potentially avoid such incidents in the future." He stands up, walking around his desk. "I assure you, this is purely for research purposes."

I finish the rest of my drink in one long gulp, crushing the can in my hand. "Fine. Whatever."

I stand up, and Ozpin approaches, placing one hand on my shoulder. It takes significant effort not to flinch away from the contact because something about him weirds me out. Instead, I focus and summon a jacket from my inventory, materializing it in my free hand.

Ozpin hums thoughtfully, his eyes studying me or more like trying to find something in me which I have no idea what. His expression is contemplative, almost analytical. After a long moment, he releases my shoulder and walks back to his seat.

"Interesting," he murmurs, more to himself than to me. "But not quite what I expected."

"So what was that about?" I ask, dismissing the jacket back to my inventory and sitting down again.

Ozpin settles back into his chair, steepling his fingers again in that irritating contemplative pose. Then he locks gazes with me behind those spectacles.

"Tell me, Mr. Rak'han… What's your favorite fairy tale?"

I blink, completely thrown off by the sudden change in topic. "...What?"

"A simple question." Ozpin's expression remains neutral. "Surely you've heard fairy tales growing up. The Girl in the Tower, The Shallow Sea, The Two Brothers, The Story of the Seasons. Which one resonates with you the most?"

I stare at him, trying to figure out if this is some kind of test or if the old man has finally gone senile. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Humor me."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms.

I frown because I don't really remember any fairy tales... Well, at least not the ones he just mentioned. The other fairy tales that were in my phone's library weren't ones I bothered to read since most of them seemed fucked up or boring.

But as I dig through my memories, something surfaces. The incomplete wizard of oz that is very foggy and a weird fairy tale I read once because it was the first one that appeared in my library when I was scrolling the new features.

And I quickly realized how fitting that one would be. It was a fairy tale about the sea, and I was a fisherman for a long while. Spent months fishing. The connection seems almost too perfect.

"The Tale of Davy Jones," I finally answer.

Ozpin's eyes widened noticeably. He leans forward slightly, his interest clearly piqued. "Hoh? That's quite a new one, I must say. Never in my long life have I heard that particular fairy tale."

I shrug, trying to appear casual. "It was from the sailors in Menagerie. I worked as a fisherman for months, and they had all sorts of stories to pass the time between catches. You know how sailors are; a superstitious bunch."

"Fascinating." Ozpin steeples his fingers again, that analytical look returning to his eyes. "Please, enlighten me. I would very much like to hear this tale."

I shift in my seat, trying to remember the details. It's been a while since I read it. "Well, from what I remember... In the days of myth and legend, there was this beautiful goddess named Calypso, daughter of… Atlas. She ruled the seas, and all sailors everywhere both loved and feared her. Made offerings to her for safe passage, that kind of thing."

Ozpin nods slightly, encouraging me to continue.

"But she had mortal blood in her too, and because of that, she could feel things the other gods couldn't. And she fell in love with a young sailor named Davy Jones." I pause, trying to remember the exact wording. "She rewarded that love by giving him a sacred task; collecting all the poor souls who died at sea and ferrying them to the worlds beyond. Making him the shepherd of the drowned, basically."

"A mortal becoming the ferryman of the dead," Ozpin murmurs, his expression distant. "How... fitting."

"I guess?" I continue, a bit confused by his reaction. "Anyway, because of that love and that duty, Davy Jones agreed to set foot on dry land once every ten years. And if his love was true to him during that time, if she waited for him faithfully, then his task would be complete and a new Captain would take over his ship; the Flying Dutchman."

"Dutchman? Quite the interesting name, I must say." Ozpin's finger taps against his desk slowly. "But please, keep going."

I nod, the story coming back to me more clearly now. "But whenever Davy Jones came ashore Calypso was nowhere to be found. The seas are fickle and unpredictable, just like the powerful goddess who ruled them. Or maybe she just... forgot. Or stopped caring. The tale doesn't really say why."

Ozpin's expression shifts slightly and his hand stops tapping.

"So when the men of the sea-err, the Pirate Brethren they were called; convened a great meeting, Davy Jones plotted with them. He was heartbroken. He wanted to tear the rule of the seas away from the goddess, to punish her for her abandonment." I lean forward slightly, getting more into the story. "With his help, they tricked the goddess and imprisoned her in the body of a mortal woman."

"Betrayal born of heartbreak," Ozpin says quietly, his voice growing heavier enough to make me pause. "A common theme in many tales. And often, the most devastating."

"Yeah, well, it gets worse." I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with the sudden heaviness in the room. "Davy Jones' grief and guilt at what he'd done became so great that he ripped his own heart right out of his chest and locked it away in a chest. Literally tore it out because he couldn't stand the pain anymore."

I can see Ozpin's expression darken, his eyes growing distant as if he's seeing something far away.

"Then he returned to the seas, but now sailors everywhere feared him to death. He'd changed. Turned fierce and cruel, with a taste for brutal things. The loving man who'd once ferried souls gently to their rest became a monster who dragged them screaming into the depths."

"Grief can do that," Ozpin murmurs, so quietly I almost miss it. "Transform the noblest heart into something unrecognizable."

I press on, feeling like I need to finish this now. "But then some ambitious mortal who wanted to rule the seas came into possession of Davy Jones' hidden beating heart. And this mortal knew he could use that heart to make Davy Jones do his bidding."

"Control through possession of what someone values most," Ozpin says, his voice hollow. "Yes, that is indeed a powerful form of manipulation. And a terrible curse for both parties."

"Soon this ancient and horrible creature from the darkest deep appeared. This terrible beast brought the master of the Flying Dutchman ever more souls onto his cursed ship. Dead sailors forever impressed into servitude, their bodies twisted and corrupted by the sea until they were barely human anymore."

"The Pirate Lords grew fearful of what they'd helped create, but when they met again, they only argued and fought among themselves. They were too afraid to act, too afraid of Calypso's anger when she learned of their treachery. So they did nothing."

I take a breath before continuing with the ending. "But one of them didn't wait for agreement. And here's the twist; he was tricked by the goddess herself. She appeared to him, still bound in mortal form, and convinced him to free her. He took all the tokens of their betrayal, all the pieces that held her prison together, and undid the spell that bound her to mortal flesh."

Ozpin's entire demeanor changes. He's leaning forward now, hands gripping the armrests of his chair. "She... manipulated her own freedom?"

"Yeah. Smart, right?" I continue, not understanding his reaction. "The goddess was free, and her wrath was horrible to see and worse to experience. She gathered the waters of the ocean around herself in a massive maelstrom and a battle raged at the center of it. Ships were torn apart, men were swallowed by the sea. And it was in that very battle that Davy Jones' heart was pierced by a sword and he died, finally free."

A strange knot forms in my chest as I speak those words, and I don't know why. It's just a story.

I shake my head and finish this tale. "With his death, Davy Jones was welcomed back into the dark embrace of the seas. Calypso, in her own way, still loved him despite everything he'd done. His ship got a new captain, and all was as it was meant to be. The end."

Silence falls over the office. The only sounds are the slow, methodical turning of the gears on the walls and the faint ticking of some unseen clock.

Ozpin leans back in his chair, his fingers no longer steepled but resting on the armrests. He's staring at the ceiling, or perhaps beyond it, his expression unreadable. One finger taps slowly against the leather in a rhythm that matches the turning gears above us.

Minutes pass. I just sit there, not really knowing what to say or do. The old man looks like I just told him some sad news.

Eventually, Ozpin breaks the silence. "A first time hearing it, yet nevertheless... a tragic beauty." He brings his gaze back down to meet mine… are those tears? "A story of love corrupted by betrayal, of hearts literally torn asunder, of freedom found only in death." He pauses, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "And yet, even through all that pain and cruelty, through imprisonment and transformation and vengeance... love endured."

I stay silent because I really don't know what to say about any of that. It was just a story I bought because it was dirt cheap. I didn't expect it to hit the man this hard.

"There are lessons in such tales, Mr. Rak'han," Ozpin continues, his voice steadier now but still carrying that weight. "Love given freely can become a cage when it is not returned in equal measure. When one waits and the other never comes, when promises are broken not through malice but through... circumstance." He seems to struggle with that last word.

He taps his finger once more against the armrest. "Betrayal begets betrayal—Davy Jones felt abandoned by Calypso's absence, so he betrayed her in turn. And that betrayal poisoned everything that came after. It turned love into hatred, duty into a curse, a gentle shepherd into a monster."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I really don’t know what he wants to say from all of this or why is he telling me this at all.

"But perhaps…" Ozpin continues, his eyes distant again, "perhaps the most important lesson is this: possessing someone's heart gives you power over them, yes. But that power is a double-edged blade. The one who wields it becomes just as enslaved as the one who is controlled. Bound together in mutual suffering."

He seems to shake himself from whatever memory he was lost in, focusing back on me. "Tell me, Mr. Rak'han, if you possessed such power over another, would you use it? If you held someone's heart in your hands; literally or metaphorically, would you command them, or would you set them free?"

I shift uncomfortably, my ears flattening slightly. "I don't know. Depends on who it is and what they've done, I guess. If they deserve it, maybe I'd use it. If they don't, maybe I wouldn't."

"An honest answer, at least." He allows himself a small, sad smile. "Though perhaps not the one I was hoping for."

"What were you hoping for?"*

"Something less pragmatic and more principled," Ozpin admits, standing up slowly and walking to the window to look out over the academy grounds. "But you are young yet, and principles are luxuries that those who have suffered often cannot afford."

He's quiet for a long moment, just staring out at Beacon. "Davy Jones thought he was doing the right thing. The Pirate Brethren thought they were protecting themselves from divine wrath. Even the mortal who took possession of the heart believed he was bringing order to chaos."

He turns back to face me, with an unreadable expression. "Yet all of them created more suffering than they prevented. All because they allowed their fear, their pain, their hate to guide their actions instead of..." He trails off, seeming to struggle with the words.

"Instead of what?" I prompt, genuinely curious now despite myself.

"Instead of accepting that some things cannot be controlled. That love, like the sea, is wild and untamable. That trying to cage it, command it, bind it, or weaponized it will only destroy what made it beautiful in the first place." His voice drops. "And sometimes... sometimes the very act of trying to save something is what destroys it."

I snort, trying to break the oppressive atmosphere. "That's pretty poetic for a guy who basically blackmailed me into coming here."

Ozpin chuckles, the sound genuinely amused this time, and some of that heaviness lifts. "Touché, Mr. Rak'han. Though I prefer to think of it as... strongly encouraging your attendance."

"Call it whatever makes you sleep better at night, asshole."

He returns to his desk, settling back into his chair with a sigh. "You have definitely left me with plenty to think about, Mr. Rak'han. That tale, your interpretation of it, the parallels to your own circumstances... all quite illuminating in ways you probably don't realize."

"Great," I mutter, not sure what else to say. "Happy to be... illuminating, I guess."

Ozpin studies me for a long moment, then seems to come to some internal decision. "Then I suppose I shouldn’t keep you any longer. I'm sure you have other matters to attend to." He gestures toward the elevator. "Though before you go, I want you to consider a few things."

"What?"

"Davy Jones ripped out his own heart because he cared too much. He chose cruelty and isolation over the risk of being hurt again." Ozpin's expression grows serious. "Don't make the same mistake, Mr. Rak'han. Whatever pain you've endured, whatever betrayals you've suffered or might suffer, don't let them harden you so completely that you forget what it means to trust, to care, to love. A heart removed cannot feel pain, yes, but it also cannot feel anything else. And a life without feeling is no life at all."

I stand up, heading for the elevator, uncomfortable with how personal this has gotten. "I'll consider it."

"And one more thing," Ozpin calls out as I reach the elevator.

I turn back with a groan, one hand on the button. "Yeah?"

"Sometimes the ones we hurt the most are the ones who forgive us anyway, who love us despite our worst actions." He pauses. "Remember that. And perhaps... perhaps consider whether you deserve such grace as well."

I press the button without responding, stepping into the elevator as the doors open. The last thing I see before they close is Ozpin staring at his desk.

I shake my head, trying to clear the strange melancholy that's settled over me. I've got better things to worry about than some old man's weird lecture and emotions.

Time to find Jeanne to say hi before I get the fuck out of here.

------------------------------------------

-Ozpin-

Ozpin sat alone in his office, staring at the slowly turning gears of the dome. The rhythmic mechanical motion usually brought him a measure of peace, a reminder that time continued forward regardless of the weight one carried. But this afternoon it only emphasized the strange heaviness settling over his chest.

All because of a fairy tale he'd never heard before.

In all his lifetimes, across countless generations and civilizations risen and fallen, he had never expected to encounter one he didn't recognize. The tales were finite, after all; echoes of ancient truths passed down through the ages, each one a fragment of history wrapped in allegory. He had heard them all. 

Catalogued them. Understood their origins.

Yet the young Faunus had delivered one as if it were common knowledge among sailors. Especially that he was once a sailor.

The Tale of Davy Jones.

A goddess who loved a mortal. Betrayal born of abandonment. A heart torn from a grieving chest to escape unbearable pain. And even through many horrors... love endured.

The pieces fit together with horrifying clarity. He knew how this tale had come to be.

The sound of wings pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. A crow descended, transforming mid-flight into the familiar disheveled form of Qrow Branwen, landing beside his desk.

"Didn't think you'd send the kid packing so soon," Qrow remarked, pulling out his flask and taking a swig. "Missed out on a lot of questions there, Oz. What, losing your touch?"

Ozpin slowly turned his gaze from the gears to meet Qrow's eyes. "That was the plan initially, yes. But his tale... it gave me much to think about."

"That fairy tale?" Qrow moved closer, leaning against the desk with his usual casual irreverence. "Gotta admit, at first I thought the kid was pulling things out of his ass. But it was way too detailed to be improvised on the spot. Calypso, Davy Jones, the Flying Dutchman, Pirate Brethren, all of it." He took another drink from his bottle. "Definitely a first for you though, right? Mr. 'I've lived a thousand lives and heard every story ever told'?"

"There is always truth behind these tales, my friend." Ozpin's voice was distant. "Fragments of history transformed through oral tradition. And I already know how this one came to be."

Qrow's expression shifted, his flask pausing halfway to his lips. "Don't tell me-"

"Yes." Ozpin met his eyes again, and for once allowed the ancient weariness to show. "I know which events inspired this particular story."

"Bloody hell." Qrow lowered the flask completely. "You're serious."

Ozpin stood slowly, walking to the window overlooking Beacon's grounds. Students moved between buildings below, blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place above them. "Before the era of kingdoms, there was a maritime confederation. Not a city of ports and castles, but an ever-moving fleet of hundreds of ships bound together by trade routes and mutual protection. They called themselves the Brethren of the Deep."

"Okay, so what happened to them?" Qrow pressed, setting his flask down. "There's definitely more to that story."

"Inexplicably, they turned violent." Ozpin's reflection in the glass looked older than usual, the sun casting shadows across his features. "Razing coastal settlements to the ground. Killing indiscriminately—men, women, children. They began performing rituals, sacrificing people to... something, idols or gods. The reports from that horrible time were fragmented, contradictory. Some spoke of a terrible creature rising from the depths to pull down ships. Others claimed their leader had gone mad after finding an artifact in the ocean's darkest trenches. Ships oozing a black liquid that killed anyone that touched it or drove them to insanity."

He paused, his finger tracing an absent pattern on the glass. "I remember a word appearing repeatedly in the survivor testimonies. Nugyeb. Whether it was a name, a place, or some kind of entity, We will never know"

"So there was a final battle in the middle of a giant typhoon or something?" Qrow asked, a hint of dark humor in his voice. "That's what this story said, right?"

"Of course not." Ozpin turned back to face him, a bitter smile touching his lips. "Reality is rarely so dramatic. But there was a massive storm when I led the allied armada to bring an end to this madness. The largest hurricane recorded in history up to that point. It devastated the eastern coastlines for weeks afterward, drowning entire settlements that had nothing to do with the conflict."

"And this Davy Jones character?"

"I never met anyone by that name." Ozpin paused, his brow creasing as he reached back through centuries of memories. "Or perhaps I did and simply forgot. There were so many faces in those days, so many names lost to time." His voice grew distant again. "The leader of the Brethren was... difficult to identify. Wore masks, spoke only through intermediaries. Some claimed he wasn't human anymore, that whatever dark power he served had transformed him. Others swore he was some kind of sentient Grimm masquerading in human form."

"But you killed him."

"I killed someone." Ozpin's hands clenched behind his back. "All I remember clearly was armor; crude pieces patched together, barnacles and coral growing through the joints. When I cut off the head, the body fell into the raging waters and was swallowed by the storm. We never recovered it."

Qrow rubbed his chin in thought. "So what happened after you put this guy down? The Brethren scattered?"

Ozpin's expression darkened considerably. "After their defeat, sea Grimm began appearing in unprecedented numbers and devoured them all. Species we'd never encountered before; some as large as islands, capable of swallowing entire fleets. The oceans became far more treacherous than they had ever been. It plagued maritime travel for generations." He returned to his desk. "Some historians claim it killed the prospect of true globalization, that the world's kingdoms might have united far sooner if not for the dangers lurking beneath the waves."

"Damn." Qrow let out a low whistle, picking up his flask again. "So you think, what? That she was involved? That she was this Calypso figure?"

Ozpin sank into his chair, the leather creaking beneath him. "The timeline fits perfectly, Qrow. The maritime confederation rose to power long after our... irremediable rupture. A period where I'd lost track of her for decades." His voice grew softer. "A goddess imprisoned in mortal form. A lover who came ashore seeking her, only to find her gone. Betrayal leading to corruption. The pieces align too perfectly to be mere coincidence."

He closed his eyes, and in the darkness behind his eyelids, he could see it with painful clarity. "She found someone. Gave him power, purpose. Perhaps not to ferry the dead, but to build something new. A society on the waves, free from the constraints of forming kingdoms and their endless conflicts. But when this person felt abandoned, when she didn't return his devotion in the way he needed..."

"He betrayed her," Qrow finished quietly, setting down his flask with uncharacteristic solemnity. "With help from others who feared what she represented. Imprisoned her somehow."

"And I destroyed them all." The words tasted like ash in Ozpin's mouth. "I led the charge against the very people she might have been imprisoned among. I killed her-" He stopped himself, the word catching in his throat. "Her lover. Her chosen. The person she tried to move forward with. Without ever knowing what I was truly doing. Maybe if I captured this person and helped him…."

The office fell silent except for the eternal turning of the gears above.

"That's a lot of assumptions, Oz." Qrow's voice was careful, gentler than his usual rough tone. "Could just be a story that got twisted over time. Sailors make up all kinds of crazy shit when they're bored. I should know; I've been on enough ships."

"Perhaps you're right." Ozpin opened his eyes, staring at his hands as if they belonged to a stranger. "But it would explain so much. Why she became so much more vicious, so much more creative in her cruelty in the centuries that followed. Why she-" His voice cracked slightly, a rare break in his carefully maintained composure. "Why she might have tried to move on. To find love again, outside of... us."

The word hung heavy in the air between them.

Qrow shifted uncomfortably, reaching for his flask but not drinking from it. "And now you're sitting here thinking she still held some trace of humanity back then. That maybe there's still-"

"Hope is a dangerous thing, my friend." Ozpin cut him off, his tone hollow. "It makes you believe in possibilities that died centuries ago. That fairy tale gave me a dangerous moment of it; the thought that perhaps she was still capable of love, even after everything we'd done to each other. That this Calypso still loved Davy Jones despite his betrayal, that she welcomed him back into her embrace even after he'd imprisoned her, used her, transformed into a monster."

He laughed, and it was a bitter, broken sound. "But that hope changes nothing about our present reality. If this tale is true, if she was trying to build something new with someone else, then I destroyed whatever happiness she'd found. I might have killed her last chance at redemption, at moving beyond our eternal conflict, without even realizing what I was doing. And every atrocity she's committed since... every life lost, every kingdom that fell to ruin, every innocent person transformed into one of her creatures... how much of that blood is on my hands for taking away the one thing that might have saved her from herself?"

"Oz-" 

He picked up his mug, finding the coffee cold and bitter. "One more reminder that the road to hell is paved with good intentions."

Qrow studied him for a long moment. "What about the rest of what you wanted from the kid? You said you wanted to check if he had magic, see if there was something weird about his Semblance that affected Jeanne."

Ozpin took a deep breath. "That was no Semblance."

"What?"

"Nor was it magic." Ozpin set down his mug. "At least, not any form of magic I recognize."

"So what the hell was it then?"

"I don't know." 

If he wasn't so accustomed to the weight of centuries, the eternal turning of those gears might have driven him mad long ago.

--------------------------------------------------

-Ma’iq Rak’han-

I'm cleaning glasses behind the counter, the familiar motion almost meditative as I work. It's a bit of a slow night, but that's expected for the middle of the week. The usual quiet periods.

So I'm just cleaning stuff to pass the time, and surprisingly, I find it relaxing. The repetitive motion, the clink of glass, the satisfaction of seeing each one go from smudged to spotless. It's simple work, but simple is good sometimes.

As for the twins? I haven't seen them all this time. Which is fair, I was already expecting this after Neo had Miltia eat her out. And Melanie is very likely, or more obviously, on her sister's side. So yeah, they probably hate my guts now.

But it makes work time rather boring without any of them around to banter with.

At least they were nice enough not to talk to Junior about kicking me out of the club. Small mercies and all that.

"Hey sugar, miss me?"

My ears perk up immediately, swiveling toward the familiar voice before I turn around to find that fashionista leaning against the bar with that confident smile of hers.

"Oh, hello Coco."

"What a coincidence to find you here," she says, though her tone suggests it's not much of a coincidence at all. She adjusts her sunglasses slightly, giving me an appraising look. "I came by last time and you weren't around. Guy at the bar told me you had the night off."

"Shift things," I explain with a shrug. "Not really permanent, very flexible schedule. Junior's good about that." I lean forward slightly, resting my hands on the bar. "So what do you want tonight?"

"Meh, here with a friend, so something simple this time." She glances back over her shoulder, then turns back to me with a slight smirk. "But make it good. I've been bragging about your skills."

"Pressure's on then," I say dryly.

"You can handle it, sugar."

I grab the necessary bottles and get to work making two mojitos, keeping them classic and clean. Nothing too fancy, but executed perfectly—fresh mint muddled just right, the ratio of rum to lime juice balanced, topped with soda water and a light garnish. I slide both drinks across the bar to the huntress-in-training.

She picks them up, examining them briefly before nodding in approval. "Looking good already." She turns around. "Hey Bun-Bun! Drinks are here!"

Bun-Bun?

And soon enough, a Faunus bunny girl approaching the bar answered that question. My ears immediately perk up in recognition of a fellow Faunus.

She has long brown hair and brown eyes, along with a pair of brown rabbit ears that twitch slightly as she walks; a nervous habit, probably. Her outfit consists of a cropped brown jacket with a thin gold zipper and an emblem on the right side of her chest, over a thin black top and ridiculously tight brown spandex compression shorts that reach her upper thighs with decorated metal trim.

However, for some reason, she flashes in my vision and her hair becomes white. I blink, and suddenly it's red instead.

What the fuck?

And why the white is so painful?

"Oh, thanks Coco!" She goes to pick up the drink but then stops. "Ummm, hello?"

I suddenly snap out of it, and her hair is back to brown. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to stare."

"Wow, you looked for way too long," Coco says with a grin, draping an arm over the bunny girl's shoulders possessively. "What, is my Bun-Bun so sexy you couldn't help yourself?"

"COCO!" The Faunus girl chastises, her face flushing bright red, her ears flattening against her head in embarrassment.

Coco just laughs, clearly enjoying her friend's embarrassment. "Come on, Velvet, ease up a little! Take the compliment!"

I shake my head, trying to clear whatever weird visual glitch that was. "Just thought she looked similar to someone I knew for a second. Mind playing tricks on me."

"Oh, so you don't think she's drop-dead gorgeous?" Coco says, placing both hands on Velvet's shoulders now and grinning wickedly at me over her sunglasses.

"COCO!" Velvet shouts, even more embarrassed now, trying to squirm away from her friend's grip.

"Okay, okay, I'm stopping with the teasing now!" Coco releases her and takes a long sip of her mojito. "Haaah. Damn, even something this simple is amazing. You definitely earned that tip!" She pulls out her wallet and slides a generous amount of Lien across the bar.

I just smirk with pride, pocketing the tip. "Glad you approve."

Velvet takes a cautious sip of her own drink and nods in agreement, still blushing slightly but seeming to appreciate the drink. "This is really good, thank you."

"Anytime," I reply, noting how her ears perk up slightly at the acknowledgment.

Yeah, I'm very proud of my skills.

"Second round?" I offer.

"You bet!" Coco says enthusiastically, already halfway through her first drink. "Keep 'em coming, sugar. We're celebrating."

"Celebrating what?" I ask as I grab the shaker again.

"Velvet here finally stopped being so shy around cute bartenders," Coco says with a wink.

"Coco, please," Velvet groans, covering her face with one hand.

I grin and get back to work, grabbing the shaker and mixing up another batch. But as I'm shaking the mixer, I suddenly notice Mercury coming down the stairs with that confident walk of his, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. He's dressed in tight black pants and an open white shirt, showing off his well-toned chest like some kind of wannabe playboy.

What the fuck is he doing here?

And more importantly, why is he coming straight toward me?

My good mood immediately sours.

I finish Coco's drinks and pass them over just as Mercury takes a seat on the stool directly in front of me, that insufferable smirk never leaving his face.

"Hey.” His tone dripping with mock friendliness.

"What do you want?" I ask flatly.

"A beer, obviously." He leans back on the stool, looking entirely too comfortable. "What, can't a guy grab a drink without the third degree?"

Well, fair enough. I grab a large glass and fill it with one of the better beers on tap; not the cheapest shit, but not the expensive stuff either. I slide it across to him without ceremony.

"Thanks." He gulps down half of it in one go, his throat working as he swallows. "Haaah, that was refreshing." He lowers the glass and looks at me with mock concern. "What's with the long face now? Worried about Em? She ain't here, it's just me."

"Sure," I say skeptically, not buying it for a second. My eyes dart around the club, looking for any sign of Emerald or worse, Cinder herself.

"True!" He spreads his hands in an exaggerated gesture of innocence. "What, don't you think I can enjoy my free time? Junior's club is one of the best in the city, and well..." He turns his head, catching sight of Coco at the bar. He winks at her with that cocky smile.

Except Coco just flips him off without even looking at him, her attention still on Velvet.

"Ouch," Mercury says, though he doesn't seem particularly bothered. He takes another sip of his beer, completely unbothered by the rejection. "Cold. I like it."

"Meh, there are more to pick from," he says with a shrug, his eyes already scanning the club for other prospects. "Night's still young."

"Does your bitchy boss want something?" I ask, keeping my voice low and leaning forward slightly so only he can hear.

Mercury rolls his eyes. "Ugh, what did I say? I'm here to have fun. To get laid if I'm lucky." He takes another sip of his beer. "Not everything is about work, you know. Even we get nights off."

"Well, don't cause trouble," I warn. "The twins will kick your teeth in if you do."

"Oh yeah, those babes." His eyes light up with interest. "Wonder where they are tonight?" He glances around as if looking for them.

"Beats me." I turn to leave, done with this conversation and wanting to put some distance between us.

"We know."

I stop mid-step, my entire body going rigid. My ears swivel back toward him. "What?"

"We know," Mercury repeats casually, taking another sip.

"You know what?" I ask, turning back to face him, my hands already curling into fists.

Mercury just shrugs, that infuriating smirk returning to his face. He drains the rest of his beer in one long gulp, then stands up from the stool. "Thanks for the drink. Maybe I'll see you around."

And with that, he walks away without elaborating, heading toward a group of girls near the dance floor like he didn't just drop a bomb on me.

"Oi, sugar! Another round!" Coco calls out from her spot at the bar, waving her empty glass.

I mechanically go back to work, mixing up another set of mojitos, but my mind is racing.

We know.

What the fuck does that mean? What do they know?

We know.

The words keep echoing in my head, refusing to let go.

I finish the drinks and slide them over to Coco, who's too busy chatting with Velvet to notice my distracted state. She just grabs both glasses and goes back to her conversation without missing a beat.

Mercury is already across the club now, leaning against a wall and talking to some girl who's clearly into him already. He doesn't look back at me once, completely absorbed in his new target.

I need to talk to Neo. Tonight. As soon as my shift ends.

Cinder is up to something. I'm sure of it.

And whatever it is, I need to be ready.

--------------------------------------------------------------

AN: This ended up being longer than expected.