Ozpin's Apartment… Sunday morning…
"If Amber dies, you will too."
Glynda felt a cold chill run down her spine at Oscar's words. It was a harsh reminder that – despite Oscar's willingness to share what he knew about the future – the fact that he knew that future meant that Ozpin had died in the future that Oscar knew. Her fears for her friend's safety – ruthlessly suppressed for the previous week – surged back to the forefront. Her hand clenched on her tablet for a moment before she forced herself to relax.
Ozpin's face was inscrutable – that mysteriously tranquil expression that he'd long ago perfected. Most people wouldn't be able to read him, but Glynda had known him long enough to know that the key to reading him was to look at his eyes behind those tinted lenses. His eyes were shadowed, a weary resignation flickering in their depths. "I see." His tone – to Glynda's ears – bore the weight of all the years and experience he carried on his shoulders. "Do you know…?"
"I don't know exactly how the two events are connected," Oscar said immediately. "I just know that Cinder was the Fall Maiden, and…" he hesitated, his eyes appearing distant as he probed his memories. "I have the… impression – if that's the right word?... that Cinder was the one who killed you, or at least she was there when you died."
"But that doesn't necessarily mean that Amber's death is a trigger," Glynda pointed out, trying to find any spot of hope.
"But it doesn't bode well either way," Ozpin murmured. "Losing a Maiden like Amber, especially with Cerelia missing, and Salem preparing to launch an assault…"
"You need to call her back," Oscar insisted. "Cinder isn't the kind of person anyone would voluntarily give power to, and Salem intends for her to control the power of all four Maidens if she can find and kill them."
"Is that – that's not possible, is it?" Glynda asked, horrified at the idea of that much power being in one person's hands, especially if that person was working with Salem.
"The power came from me," Ozpin replied grimly. "It was my gift to the original Maidens that split it in the first place. I don't know if a single Maiden could hold the power of all four – not anymore. I've never particularly desired to put that idea to the test, but in theory, since all of the power originated with me, it might be possible." He rubbed his forehead, the lines around his eyes and across his forehead more pronounced – a sign, Glynda knew, that he had a headache.
There was an awkward moment of silence as Ozpin contemplated everything. "Very well. I'll send Amber a message and let her know I need her back in Vale as soon as possible, but it will actually be safer for her to travel with others than to try to make it back without an escort." He looked at Oscar. "Do you know when…?"
Oscar shook his head, reluctantly. "I just know that somehow Cinder acquired the Fall Maiden's power before you died. She tried to get the Spring Maiden's power and failed, and I know she was trying to get the Winter Maiden's power just before I was sent back."
"Securing the Maidens – especially Spring – will need to be another priority, then," Ozpin murmured. "It's not the first time that Salem or her followers have pursued the Maidens, but fortunately, it's not easy to take a Maiden down. If we can keep them close and protected, that's another thing that may stymie her plans."
Ozpin's scroll chimed again, He pulled it out, glancing at the screen. "It looks like the rest of our purchases from yesterday have arrived, Oscar. I'll need to go and let the delivery in – perhaps this would be a good place to leave matters until after I've had a chance to speak to James further and you can get settled in while I do that and call Amber back."
Oscar nodded as Ozpin rose to his feet and headed for the elevator. "Okay."
"Oscar, can you describe Cinder?" Glynda asked. "I can alert the other Headmasters to be on the lookout for her."
"Um, sure," Oscar said. "She's tall – maybe five-ten or five-eleven? The last time I saw her, she was wearing a long red and gold dress, in a sort of upper-Mistral style, and a mask over her left eye – oh and I think her eyes are amber colored. She has black hair that was short in the back, but long enough in the front to cover the left side of her face. She wore black heels – and they were made of glass?" He shrugged. "I don't know much about women's fashion, actually."
"Glass? That couldn't be comfortable to walk in," Glynda said.
"They might not have been, but they sounded like glass," Oscar said with a shrug. "As far as her weapons, um… I saw her use her powers to create a sword, and a spear, but I don't know what her Semblance is."
"But you know she's a Maiden?" Glynda asked, and Oscar nodded wordlessly. "All right. It's a starting point at least. If she was behind what happened at Beacon, then she'll likely turn up here sometime soon and we can be on the lookout for her."
"I'm pretty sure she was at Beacon, because Ruby and the others all recognized her when we saw her at Haven," Oscar said. "I just don't know when she first showed up. It might not have been until right before the Fall."
Glynda sighed. "Very well." She rose to her feet, just as the elevator slid open and Ozpin re-entered the apartment, escorting a delivery man who was pushing a wheeled cart loaded with bags, along with a rolled-up area rug. "I'll leave you two to get settled in."
"Thank you, Glynda. I'll be making a call to James later. If he contacts you, you can let him know."
"I will," she promised. She entered the elevator as Ozpin and the delivery man began unloading the cart, her mind already racing as she tried to assimilate everything. Keeping an eye out for Cinder – in addition to the increased security and the practice in evacuation procedures – would be another step they could take to prevent Beacon from falling. Of course, the question remained of how much they could trust James, Leo, and Theodore with any of this information.
She pushed her glasses up and rubbed her eyes while still in the sanctuary of the elevator. What were they going to do about the other Headmasters? She understood Ozpin's position on the matter – showing mistrust towards James and Leo would only sow discord and divide them faster… but if they gave all of this information to the other Headmasters now, only to be betrayed later…
She trusted Ozpin wholeheartedly, of course – how could she not when she had known him for so long? – but she was afraid that he would be too compassionate in this case. She'd fought beside him and he'd never so much as flinched when faced with a criminal or a Grimm – in those cases his resolve was absolute and his mannerism that of a Huntsman fighting to protect the people of Remnant. But most of the time he was kind-hearted. He wasn't the type to be overtly authoritative or rule by fiat – it didn't fit with his view of the world and his ideology of persuading people to be better and stand united.
She just didn't see how they could risk telling Leo anything unless they could be absolutely certain that Oscar's predictions of what was coming wouldn't come to pass. With James, there was still a chance to prevent his betrayal, but what Oscar had revealed didn't bode well for James' stability if things ultimately went wrong and they couldn't stop the fall of the Tower.
The elevator began to slow to a stop, and she quickly pushed her glasses back into position and assumed the more business-like demeanor that the staff and students expected from her. There was still a lot they could do to avert the events Oscar had warned about after all.
It was just another day. Another day to plan and prepare. Another day to be ready for whatever Salem would bring against them. She needed to keep that thought in mind overall, since that was what she had sworn herself to – fighting alongside Oz in his battle against her. Her determination to save Ozpin had to be secondary to protecting the innocent people who would be at Beacon for the Tournament.
She needed to remember that.
But it was going to be hard.
Ozpin's Apartment…
Oscar watched as Ozpin thanked the delivery person who was unloading the cart of purchases. The living room was covered with bags from the various shops they'd patronized the previous morning, along with the rolled-up area rug that Ozpin had insisted they get to soften the floor near his bed.
Seeing the variety of bags, Oscar felt a little overwhelmed. Ozpin had been more than generous the day before, and it made him uncomfortable. All he'd done was to bring unwelcome news thus far, while Ozpin had offered him more than Oscar could have expected. He startled a little as Ozpin came over and rested a hand on Oscar's shoulder.
"Oscar, I'm going to escort the courier back down. When I get back, we'll get these things moved to your room and get you settled in."
"Okay, sure," Oscar said. Ozpin smiled and led the courier back towards the elevator. Oscar understood the caution – especially with his warnings about the virus. Ozpin wouldn't want to take the chance on allowing any potential risks where the Tower was concerned.
Oscar poked through the bags closest to him – they appeared to be filled with clothes. He was fairly sure he could handle putting those away while he waited for Ozpin. The rug was large enough that it would take both of them to put it down in Oscar's room. Picking up the bags, he carried them into his room and began pulling the clothes out, sorting them out by what needed to be hung up and what he could fold and put into the dresser drawers.
Ozpin entered the room a few minutes later, a few more bags in his arms. Based on the size and shape of the bags, Oscar was sure he was bringing in the books they'd purchased the day before. Oscar continued stacking things into the dresser and hanging articles of clothing in the closet as Ozpin put the bags on top of the bookcase.
"I believe the prints we bought are still out in the living room," Ozpin ventured. "I'll bring them in and find a hammer, if you'd like to figure out where you'd like to hang them."
"Sure," Oscar said, making another trip to the closet with an armload of shirts and vests and putting them up on the hangers that were waiting there. It was more clothes than he'd ever imagined owning, but despite his discomfort, he also didn't want to seem ungrateful. He did appreciate what Ozpin was doing, even though he still had mixed feelings about the old wizard and the soul merge and what would happen if they couldn't stop the Fall.
Ozpin left the room and came back a few moments later with another bag that rattled slightly. At his insistence, Oscar had picked out a few framed photographs and artistic prints to brighten up the barren walls of his room. One – and Oscar's favorite – was the Mistralian countryside at sunset. But there were others that would help to soften the starkness of the walls and bring a little bit of color beside the green of the curtains and the red of the bedspread into the room.
Oscar quickly put the last few articles of clothing into the dresser and began pulling out the prints he'd picked. He'd been drawn to landscapes over anything else – the sunset print, of course, but there were also prints that reminded him of Atlas, the city of Mistral itself, and even one that evoked Vale's mountains and forests – likely due to an unconscious remnant of the memories he had from Oz. It didn't take him long to figure out where each print would look the best – with the Mistralian countryside one to be hung where he could see it from anywhere in the room. A little reminder of home in a strange place.
Ozpin returned with a hammer, some nails, and some picture hooks as Oscar was beginning to unpack the bags of books. Together they quickly hung the prints on the wall, and immediately Oscar noticed that the room seemed brighter and homier, although it still wasn't the same as his room back on the farm had been, lacking all the wood and more rustic touches that were so familiar to him. The headmaster disappeared once again and reappeared with the area rug they'd purchased as well.
It took both of them to unroll and spread the rug out – Oscar unrolling the rug and holding it in place while Ozpin shifted the furniture slightly until they had it placed where they wanted it to be.
"I need to go and call James and fill him in on the situation," Ozpin said quietly once they were finished, "so I'll be upstairs in my office for a while. Do you think you can finish getting settled in?"
Oscar nodded, fighting not to react to the sound of the General's name. "Yeah, I can handle that. I was going to go for a walk once all of this is put away too." There were just books left, after all.
A small frown crossed Ozpin's face and Oscar bit back a sigh, since he knew what was coming. "Be careful not to overexert yourself. Your lungs are still healing."
"I won't go far," Oscar promised. "Just down to the courtyard." He understood the concern, but he was tired of feeling confined to a single location when he was used to being more active. The General had meant well when he'd restricted Oscar to Atlas Academy, but it had still bothered him. He'd understood, of course – in the General's mind, Oscar had been the vessel for Oz, and thus a valuable resource that they couldn't risk endangering or falling into Salem's hands. But he'd been cooped up for far too long, and he needed to start slowly regaining his stamina. He couldn't afford to sit around idle when the Academies were at risk and he had an opportunity to begin his training so that he could fight if the worst happened.
"I'll come and find you when I'm done speaking with James, then. We can take a trip to the dining hall for lunch, and maybe a tour of the campus if you feel up to it," Ozpin suggested.
Oscar nodded wordlessly, and Ozpin gave him a small smile before heading for the door. "If you need anything, Oscar, feel free to come up, or you can call Glynda. She has your scroll number as well."
"Okay."
Ozpin left the room and Oscar turned his attention back to unpacking and shelving the bags of books on his small bookcase, resolutely not thinking about the fact that Ozpin was talking to the General and hoping that Ozpin would be discreet about what Oscar had said. With the General's potentially volatile temperament…
Oscar sighed and shelved another book. The General would be a wild card, that was sure. Ozpin would have to handle him carefully. Oscar didn't envy him that task, knowing what he did.
Ozpin's Office…
The headache between his temples and behind his eyes from his over-indulgence of the night before hadn't gone away entirely, although the coffee for breakfast and the cocoa he'd had during the discussion with Glynda and Oscar had helped to mitigate it a bit. Ozpin knew he still wasn't in the best state of mind to be dealing with something as delicate and potentially important as managing James, given what they now knew about what was coming. It was a wonder that Glynda hadn't called him out on it, but he knew she was still as shaken by everything Oscar had revealed the day before as he was.
At the same time, he couldn't push it off any longer. It had the potential to be a long conversation, and James wasn't a patient person by nature. The last thing he needed was to push James into a volatile state of mind when they had sensitive matters to discuss.
He moved to his tiny kitchenette in the corner and immediately began preparing another pot of cocoa. He still craved the comforts of something familiar, especially with the additional revelation that Amber was in danger and that it was likely that his own survival hinged on hers.
While he waited for the water to heat, he pulled out his Scroll and sent a message to Amber.
Ozpin
When you get back to Vale, please come and see me at the Tower right away.
Her response came back as he was mixing the water and the cocoa powder in his silver teapot.
Amber
Is everything okay? Do you need me? I can split off from my team and get there sooner. They can finish the mission without me.
That was the last thing he wanted. Given Oscar's information about the Maidens and how his survival apparently hinged on Amber's, he needed to make sure she was safe. He might not fear death, as he had told Glynda – which was true – but that didn't mean he wanted to die again or was ready to. Not when it would give Salem such a huge advantage as having a Maiden under her control.
Ozpin
I do need you, but it's not urgent. Stay with your group – don't go off on your own. It can wait until you can make it back here safely.
Amber
Oz, I can be there much sooner…
Ozpin
It's more important to me that you stay safe and get here when you can, rather than rush and get hurt.
There wasn't an immediate response, so he finished making his pot of cocoa and carried it over to his desk along with his mug. As he settled into his chair and began activating his terminal, his Scroll finally chimed again.
Amber
All right. I'll be there soon. We'll get the fastest airship to Beacon that we can find.
Hopefully that was one possible bad event averted – or at least delayed. Oscar had said he didn't know exactly when or how Amber was killed, but if they could keep her close, or at least keep her around people who could be trusted… Even someone like this woman Cinder that Oscar had spoken of would probably be hesitant to attack a Maiden in a group of other trained Huntsmen and Huntresses.
He sent an invitation for a video call to James, expecting that his friend would be waiting for his call. It wouldn't take him long to respond if he knew the General as well as he thought he did.
Less than two minutes later, his terminal chimed with an incoming call. Ozpin accepted the call, raising his mug to his lips. "Good morning, James."
"Ozpin." James' expression was neutral – which could be a good or a bad thing, depending on what Ozpin had to tell him. It was always hard to predict how James would react to a situation – he was a strategist, but he did tend to think in terms of large-scale battles and military might, rather than the smaller, more subtle ways that Oz preferred to operate.
"I'm sorry we weren't able to talk last night," Ozpin said. "I needed some time to think about everything that Oscar has said thus far and determine a plan of action moving forward."
"Have you? Come up with a plan, I mean?"
"We have some plans, beyond strengthening the security around the Academies," Ozpin said with a nod. "As I told you last night, cyber security around the CCTS Towers is going to need to be a top priority."
"Oz, that doesn't make any sense. The security around the Towers is already secure. Technicians and Operators go through multiple background checks and security screenings just for the most basic access. There are guards around the Towers at night to prevent unauthorized access, and the Towers are on the Academy campus as an additional layer of security since the schools are the most secure locations in the Kingdoms." James' expression shifted from neutral to skeptical. "Even if someone had plans to attack the Tower, it would be impossible, and why would Salem or her associates speak about it in front of a boy?"
That wasn't a question Ozpin was ready to answer yet. "I don't know for sure. I'm still gathering information from Oscar, but the information he's already provided does lean towards that possibility, and if a virus were to be planted in the Tower's system – one meant to isolate the communications and prevent a call for help – it could be devastating if Salem were to launch a large-scale attack on one of the Kingdoms."
"You've always told us that Salem doesn't work that way. She wouldn't launch a full assault on the Kingdoms if she works in the shadows. It would make her a threat to everyone."
"That's true," Ozpin agreed. "But I also suspect that she never expected me to oppose her for as long as I have. She may be getting impatient, or she may believe that she has found a way to obtain the Relics by attacking openly – she has always sought to divide us, and if she sees a weakness in us, she may think that a single decisive attack could drive a wedge into everything we've been working to build since the end of the Great War."
"I'm not sure I believe what the boy is saying. You said yourself that Grimm activity seems normal, and openly attacking the Kingdoms – where most of Remnant's Huntsmen and Huntresses are at any given time – would be a tactical error on her part."
"Strengthening security around the Towers and working on redundancies isn't a wasted effort. You know as well as I do that it is inconvenient when we have to take the Towers offline for maintenance – as advanced as they are, there are always improvements that could be made to the system," he replied, ignoring the frustration in James' voice.
James sighed and rubbed his left hand over his forehead, just above the small strip of metal that covered the place where the circuitry to cover his cybernetics was positioned. "Very well. I'll speak to the scientists and technicians in charge of the Towers and see what they can devise, although I don't see how it will make a difference in the long run."
Which was one of James' failings – he often didn't see the big picture or understand the long game in the same way that Ozpin did. Part of that wasn't his fault, of course – he didn't know everything about his and Salem's pasts. But at the same time, there was a difference between knowing the full story, and knowing enough to still understand the story, without all of the tiny details.
"There was something else," Ozpin continued, deciding to change the subject away from the Towers for the time being. "Oscar overheard the names of some of Salem's agents. One that I vaguely recognized was Arthur Watts."
Ironwood frowned. "Watts is dead. The idea of him working for Salem before he died doesn't surprise me, but he couldn't be an active agent of hers right now."
"Are you sure?" Ozpin asked.
"Watts was smart, but he was a pain in the ass. He had a grandiose sense of entitlement because of his intelligence, but he wasn't as clever as he thought he was. He died three years ago during one of the early testing phases on the new Paladin units."
"From what Oscar has said, Watts is the one who is working on coding the virus to cripple the CCTS," Ozpin said. "Since taking down the Towers would cut off global communication, I don't think we should take that warning lightly."
Ironwood scoffed. "The kid is lying to you, Oz. We investigated that incident thoroughly. The conclusion was clear – Watts died that day. We had video footage of him moments before the blast, a charred body was found in the same area where he was standing when the blast occurred – a body which matched his height and approximate build, considering the damage caused by the fire – and we had blood evidence matching to his blood type."
It certainly sounded conclusive, but still… "Is there any chance that he might have somehow faked his death? Would it be possible to reopen the investigation?"
"Oz…" James sighed, sounding exasperated.
"James," Ozpin replied, again ignoring the clear frustration in his friend's voice. "I will acknowledge that the odds that Arthur Watts is alive are slim – perhaps he coded the virus before he died, but if we have a chance to gain a tactical advantage over Salem for the first time in a very long time, I intend to explore every possibility that Oscar mentions."
"Why are you putting so much trust in what this boy has to say? He somehow got into your office – a secure location – and starts spreading stories about this pending attack, but there's no evidence to support it. You said yourself that her goal is to divide us, and having an agent here, close to you, feeding false intelligence and sending us off on wild goose chases is one of the best things that she could do."
"Oscar has told me things that lead me to believe he's telling the truth," Ozpin replied firmly. "Glynda and I are continuing to investigate what he's revealed about his background, and I intend to send Qrow out soon to see if he can confirm whatever we find out about him. But some of the information he's shared and the questions he's answered are not things that Salem would be expected to know, despite how long we've been opposing each other."
"And what will you do if it turns out that he is lying?" Ironwood demanded. "If he is communicating back to Salem or her agents about our security protocols, it won't matter what precautions we take, because they'll already know exactly what changes we've made."
"If he's lying, or it turns out that he is one of Salem's, I'll deal with him," Ozpin said softly. "It wouldn't be the first time she's tried to use a child against me, and I doubt it will be the last, but I prefer to offer the hand of trust first. Even if he is one of Salem's agents, a little kindness could sway him to our side."
"I think that could be a reckless decision, Oz."
"Perhaps, but I honestly believe that he is telling the truth, James. I believe that it is worth the risk to make some changes – slowly, and carefully, of course, to make sure that the word doesn't leak to Salem. If we can confirm whether or not Arthur Watts is alive, that will give us more of an idea about his involvement in the creation of the virus."
"Oz…" Ironwood sighed. "Very well. I'll reopen the investigation on Watts' death and speak to our scientists. I'll let you know what I find out."
"My instructions from last week still stand," Ozpin added. "Quietly strengthen security around the Academy as well. I'm going to be working with Glynda to implement a new class at Beacon on security and evacuation procedures. Once we come up with something, I'll share it with the rest of you, and perhaps you can implement something similar at your own Academy."
"May I talk to the boy myself? I have some questions of my own for him."
"In the future, perhaps," Ozpin replied. "For the time being, until I'm completely convinced that he can be trusted, I'd prefer to keep the circle of information between Oscar, Glynda, and myself."
"What's going on, Oz?" the General asked. "Ever since the boy arrived, you and Glynda haven't been acting like yourselves." The frustration on Ironwood's face was clear. "It's no secret that you compartmentalize information, and I completely understand that – it makes sense from a tactical standpoint after all. But both of you have seemed even more evasive than usual."
"I'm being cautious, James," Ozpin replied. "I understand your frustration and that these requests may not make sense to you since you haven't heard everything that Oscar has told us yet. Rest assured, when I am certain that everything that Oscar had to say is true and we've been able to verify who he is, I'll let you speak to him. But given his injuries, I'm taking things slowly. He does have a very real fear of Salem – but whether that is because of the torture he sustained at her hands, or because he's afraid of what she will do to him if he fails her… that I have yet to determine."
He felt like that was a safe enough answer to give at the moment, even though he didn't believe that Oscar was lying or working for Salem – not after what he'd observed of the boy over the last week and the level of detail he'd provided. But given Oscar's clear fear – not just of Salem, but of what James had done to him (and how could James have done something like that to a child?) a little misdirection would be safe enough until Oscar felt like he could face the General himself.
Ironwood heaved a heavy sigh. "All right, Oz. I'll… try to be patient until I can talk to the boy myself." He shifted in his seat. "There was one other thing I wanted to address, while we're talking."
"Of course," Ozpin replied, taking a sip of his cocoa.
"Fria. I have a report from the doctors attending to her. She isn't doing well. I had a report from them about a month ago and they were estimating that she had roughly five years left, but there are signs that she may decline more rapidly than they had predicted. Five years would be considered optimistic at this point."
It was Ozpin's turn to sigh. "I see."
"The problem is that she doesn't have any living female relatives or close friends who are young enough to assume the powers. I don't like the idea of leaving the passing of the powers up to chance."
"It wouldn't be the first time that a Maiden's host has become unclear," Ozpin reminded him. "But I do understand the concern, especially with Spring still missing."
"Is there a way to ensure who the power would pass to?" Ironwood asked. "Have you ever tried… this may be the wrong word… conditioning the previous Maiden?"
"Conditioning?" Ozpin echoed with a frown.
"Controlled exposure," Ironwood explained. "Putting a specific person in place around the current Maiden, like a form of training, so that they have the mental fortitude or reflexes to make sure the final person in their thoughts is the next intended Maiden?"
"No," Ozpin said succinctly. He didn't like that idea at all. While he had never intended for the Maiden powers to transfer between hosts when he'd first bestowed the powers onto the young women who had pulled him out of the darkness of his centuries-long depression, the idea of transferring the powers through that kind of coercion didn't sit well with him either.
"I see."
"There should always be a choice, James," Ozpin said gently. Perhaps it was time to lay some foundations – to try to begin to seed some thoughts that James could hold onto in the future, in the event that they couldn't stop the Fall of Beacon that Oscar had spoken of. "You know how much I value giving people a choice – it's the most important gift that the Brothers bestowed upon humanity in the beginning, and that has been made very clear to me over the many, many years I've been living, dying, and reincarnating."
"People don't always make good choice, Oz,"
"No, they don't," Ozpin agreed. James was inadvertently making his point for him, which would make this much easier. "But if we give up our free will or allow someone else to take it away from us, then we become no better than Salem. She wants the Relics for the powers they hold, and if she gets them, the choices of all of the citizens of Remnant – human and Faunus alike – will be taken away. We can't allow ourselves to fall into the same trap because it is expedient, or because we believe that we can make a better choice than the person beside us."
He sighed again. "It is hard to accept that people make the wrong choices. I've certainly seen and experienced the fallout from decisions that people have made that I don't agree with – the Great War being only one of them. But those events should stand as reminders that we are not the Brothers. We don't get to take choices away from the people around us. The important thing to remember is that choices can be changed – but we have to be willing to face up to the consequences of our choices and being willing to re-evaluate and make a new choice if necessary. We can't allow ourselves to believe that we are the only ones with all the answers, or we're no better than Salem."
"I understand what you're saying, Oz," James assured him.
"Good," Ozpin said softly. "I just hope that you always remember that James. It's easy to say that now, when we're in a time of relative peace, but if the warnings that Oscar has brought do come to pass, things can change very rapidly, and it can be hard to hold to the ideals of peacetime when stress, anger, and death is surrounding us. It takes a strong soul to be able to look into the darkness and not give in to fear."
"I know, Oz. You have my word – I won't let Salem break me."
Oscar finished shelving the last of the books and glanced around his room. All of his new clothes were nearly hung up or folded up, the books were shelved, the artwork was hung on the walls, and the other little trinkets they'd bought were arranged across the surfaces of the furniture. There wasn't really anything else that needed to be done – and he did want to take that walk that he'd mentioned.
Now was as good a time as any.
He checked his pocket to make sure that he still had his Scroll, before heading to the elevator. He felt a little nervous as he pushed the button for the ground floor. This was a new environment, a new Kingdom, different in so many ways from Mistral, Mantle, or Atlas. It was more than a little overwhelming, especially with the feelings of familiarity he had from the memories he'd absorbed from Oz – but if this was going to be his home for the next two years, he needed to make memories of his own, rather than just relying on the ones he'd inherited.
He also needed to start regaining his stamina so that he could begin training in earnest when he was fully healed. A brief walk or two every day would go a long way to getting him there – and he could slowly increase the distance and length of his walks every day until he was back to where he'd been before the Hound had caught him.
For today, he would just go to the courtyard near the statue he'd seen the last two days. Something about it had stirred some memory or feeling in his mind both times, but since he'd been with Ozpin both times, he hadn't taken the time to try to figure out what it was that was bothering him about it. With Ozpin talking to the General upstairs, and Glynda working on her own projects, he might as well deal with the feeling/memory now, so that it didn't continue to bother him every time he left the Tower in the future.
The elevator reached the ground floor and he stepped out, mindful of anyone who might be waiting to use it. But the lobby was completely empty, although he could see people moving about outdoors. Most of them wore what he recognized as Beacon's uniform – meaning they were students, but there were a few people in regular clothing too. The Tower was open to the public during the day, but from previous experience in Mistral and Atlas, Oscar knew that the Towers didn't get a lot of visitors from the general public, since they were positioned on the school grounds and the signals were strong enough to reach the entire Kingdom. If people could call from their home terminals or Scrolls, why make a trip all the way to the Academies just to make a call or obtain a reference?
The statue was just outside, so he made his way outside, pausing just at the doors to take a deep breath of the early autumn air. It was just so… odd. Little more than a week ago, he'd been breathing the crisp, cold air of Atlas and the acrid, stale air of the inside of Salem's whale Grimm. Now… it was fresh, clean, and warm.
He glanced around and spotted a bench nearby. One last look proved that no one was paying him any attention at the moment, so he walked over to it, moving at a decent clip – not as fast as he would have moved before the Hound had kidnapped him, but not at the slow, shuffling pace of two days ago either. The bench was perfectly positioned to give him a good view of the statue, but to keep him out of the way of any traffic near the Tower, so he settled into place and studied it for a moment.
On the surface, there wasn't really anything extraordinary about it – a Huntsman with a sword and a Huntress with a battle axe standing over a defeated Beowulf. He'd seen plenty of similar statues in Mistral and Atlas – extolling the victories and virtues of the Huntsmen and Huntresses were one thing all of the Kingdoms agreed upon, since the Huntsmen and Huntresses were their defenders against the darkness brought by the Grimm. He just wasn't sure what it was about the statue that was nagging at him.
He closed his eyes and probed at the vague memories he had from Oz. There was still something missing in his head – different from when Oz had locked himself away, but it was an emptiness that he didn't like. What was it about the statue that was bothering him so much?
"Young man? Are you alright?" a deep voice rumbled.
Oscar opened his eyes and saw a large, portly man standing near him. The man had light-grey hair and a bushy, walrus-like mustache. He was wearing a double-breasted red jacket with gold buttons and gold trim, and a darker pair of burgundy pants, with olive-green calvary boots.
"Oh, uh… yes, sir," Oscar stammered. "I'm fine… am I in your spot?" He started to stand up, but paused when the man shook his head.
"Not at all. I simply didn't recognize you, as you do seem to be young for a student here, and we don't usually get many visitors from the city on the weekends."
"No, I – I'm staying with Professor Ozpin for the time being," Oscar replied. "He's in his office making a call to someone in Atlas, I think, and I decided to take a walk."
"With the Headmaster…" the man's expression seemed to change to be somewhat more discerning. "You wouldn't happen to be the boy that appeared in his office last week?"
"Uh… yes?" Oscar said.
"Well, it is good to see that you are up and about!" the man boomed. "Professor Goodwitch mentioned the incident to us, and we were most concerned to hear about what happened. You are healing well, I hope?"
"Yes, sir," Oscar said. "It's slow, and even with aura I still need some more time, but I've been confined to a hospital room for a week, so I just wanted to get out and get some sun for a few minutes."
"No need to fret, you are most welcome here," the man replied. "I'm Professor Port, and if you have any questions, I would be more than happy to direct you."
"Oh, uh… thank you," Oscar replied. "Oh, my name is Oscar – Oscar Pine. It's a pleasure to meet you." Deciding that discretion was probably the better path to take – since this man didn't stir any real memories in him and the last thing he wanted to do was say more than he should, he slid off the bench and toyed with his hands for a moment. "Um, I think I'll just head inside now. I promised Professor Ozpin I wouldn't be gone too long, because of my injuries."
"Of course!" Port declared. "I hope to see you soon, young man."
"Thank you," Oscar offered a shy smile, before turning and heading back into the Tower. He was a little frustrated that he hadn't managed to figure out what it was about the statue that was bothering him but decided not to push his luck any further until he knew who it was safe to speak with.
The last thing he wanted was to accidentally give information out to someone he didn't know and who's allegiances he didn't know, after all. They'd made that mistake with Lionheart – it wasn't one that Oscar wanted to repeat.