8,895I've had to turn down the potential US buyer for asking me to head to London again this weekend to have further talks with them. They act like I should be at their beck and call and thrilled to travel the country to talk to them.
Told me it "doesn't inspire confidence" that I'm unwilling to come see them when asked. I'd have loved to tell them what I felt of that, but, obviously, I had to give a more polite response about me having my own responsibilities closer to home and not being able to travel constantly to satisfy their needs, and that I'd be available via online calls as needed.
Assholes.
Cover Art: Curbizzle
Chapter 74
Ozpin talked and talked and talked about Salem. It wasn't all world-shattering revelations. In fact, most of it was normal things – what her hobbies had been, what she had been like when they first met, what they had hoped to achieve together as rulers of a fledgeling Remnant. It was all a lot more interesting than Jaune thought it would be, like listening to a history documentary, but one that few people alive knew was true.
"Universal education was really what sparked the biggest riots?" Jaune asked.
"Oh yes. It was one of the most unpopular decisions we ever made." Ozpin chuckled, while Jaune marvelled at how something taken for a basic right could be so controversial. "You see, education was seen as something that made the nobility special and unique. It was a symbol of one's wealth and status. They feared that, should the peasantry become smarter, they might take jobs meant for intelligent, hard-working children. Namely, their own."
"On the other hand, the working classes saw it as an attack on traditional values. I'm sure it was fanned in no small part by the nobility, but the lower classes soon had it in their heads that these schools were meant to take away their children and impart foreign ideas into their heads. We were brainwashing them, manipulating them, or so the narrative became. Before, many families taught their children to follow in their footsteps and do whatever it was they and their fathers had done before them, and the idea of us enabling children to choose their own paths was seen as an assault on those values."
"Because farmers wanted their children to be farmers...?"
"You scoff, Mr Arc, but it was a big thing back then. Also, schooltime took children away from what their families saw as more productive things – like toiling in the fields or preparing for marriage. It was an old time, remember, and back then children could marry as early as thirteen years of age."
"That's crazy..."
"It's just a facet of developmental speed. Young animals grow become adults in the space of a year or two because they have to develop quickly to survive. The same goes for people. In today's world, with our relative safety, we enjoy a time when children can be allowed to remain children until their late teens. This gives them more time to learn, develop, and grow in their own way. Back then, a family could not afford to look after someone for so long, and there wasn't time for play. If you could go back, you would find fourteen-year-olds were far more mature in those times. By that age, you'd not only know a craft, but how to butcher an animal, cook it, pay taxes, and perhaps even repair and maintain your home. And you might even have a home of your own." Ozpin shrugged. "It was a different time."
"Do you prefer our time?"
"Yes. Of course. This – or close to this – is what Salem and I were aiming for."
"Close to this?"
"Obviously, our ideals were a little more utopic. We wanted a perfect world, or as close to perfection as could be managed. But, to answer your original question, a lot of the things you take for granted now were highly unpopular when they were first implemented. Healthcare was similarly despised – goodness, I remember when we introduced the idea of doctors having to wash their hands before treating a patient. That almost caused riots."
"You're exaggerating, surely."
"I wish I was. When it was first discovered, it was because of high mortality rates of women during childbirth. An aspiring doctor at the time discovered that the correlating cause was that the doctors were performing autopsies on bodies and then helping women give birth, all without any hygiene. This led to obvious infections. But, of course, the concept of an infection was alien at the time, so all he knew was that washing hands led to lower deaths. He brought that to us, we mandated it for a test, and lo and behold the rate of deaths among women in childbirth fell drastically. You would think that would be a popular thing."
"It... wasn't...?"
"Not at all. You see, doctors began to see it as an implication that they were responsible for all the prior deaths, and that they were being scapegoated. The man who discovered it was driven out the kingdom and killed. When Salem and I kept it as law, doctors protested and claimed we were attacking them. Meanwhile, women about to undergo childbirth felt that we – Salem and I – were taking risks with their lives, that the doctors had always done it their way, and that deviating from that known practice was more dangerous. As such, doctors who washed their hands were seen as more dangerous, and women sought the help of doctors who practiced the safe, old ways. Naturally, this led to even more deaths, but even those were attributed to us, as if we were using magic to force the deaths so as to prove our nonsense point about washing hands true." Ozpin scoffed. "People, Mr Arc, do not take well to new ideas. They do not enjoy having the world change around them, even if that change is universally for the better."
It was fascinating. Awful, but fascinating. Jaune had loved feudal stories when he was younger for their knights and princesses and dragons, but history was always lacking in the fantasy elements. Not only because they were fantasy, but because historians had to work from evidence left over and fill in the gaps with assumptions. Ozpin didn't.
Ozpin had been there, and he talked about things Jaune never would have guessed – from how peasantry actually ate like kings compared to people today, despite assumptions they lived in poverty. How the lower population across Remnant meant meat was abundant, and how fish in rivers were in such numbers that you could catch it with your bare hands. The poorest peasants dined on fresh fish, wholemeal bread, fresh vegetables and pork. Some of the funniest stories were how the "royal" foods back in the day were some of the cheapest now – from white, processed bread to chicken being rare and expensive back then when it was seen as cheap and boring now.
"Wholemeal and seeded bread was for peasants," Ozpin remarked, "Yet now we know it's not only healthier, but tastier as well. Back then, it was more about the difficulty in preparing it than anything. If an animal or foodstuff took more time to prepare, it was seen as better. It had to be better, after all, because it took more time. Never mind the taste or texture. Nobles would eat the worst nonsense out of fear of being seen as unrefined."
If nothing else, it worked to fill Jaune's head with vivid imagery.
Enough that, when they laid down in two single beds set close to one another, it was no surprise at all when the dream Jaune invaded was set in the distant past, thousands of years ago in a world no one remembered.
/-/
"Await me here by our horses," said the knight, dismounting and dropping to the grass. "I alone must—"
"Ozpin. This is the dream."
"Ozpin?" the man that was a mirror image of Ozpin's new body raised an eyebrow. "Why the odd name? You know me, friend. And what worries thee? We are safe from any pursuers here. None know of where we are."
"Ozpin," Jaune repeated, leaning off the horse. "This is the dream we talked about getting into. I don't know if it's yours or Salem's but—"
"How do you know that name?" Ozpin's hand fell to his sword. "I have yet to introduce thee. No. Tell me you have not been compromised by the one who imprisoned her! Tell me it isn't true!"
Jaune sighed. "Ozpin, Glynda, Port, Oobleck, Beacon, Cinder, Team JNPR. The Vytal Festival. General Ironwood being a prick and trying to arrest me. A Semblance about dreams, and a plan to use it to get into Salem's dream to find where in Vale she is hiding and what she's up to."
Ozpin – or Ozma, as it was – stood before Jaune with a complex expression. He opened his mouth, paused, bit his lip and closed his eyes. With a quick shake of his head, he took his hand from the sword and opened his eyes to look at himself.
"Mr... Ungh. Jaune." The voice was more modern, familiar. "I think... Yes, I can remember now. This is a dream." He took a deep breath. "I am awake. Or I am lucid. I'm anything but awake right now." He looked around curiously. "This is the tower Salem was trapped within. I never brought anyone else here, but you're wearing the armour of a friend of mine – an Arc." He swallowed. "Can you change it? I fear seeing you in that armour is likely to trip me back into the dream once more."
Jaune concentrated and turned his clothes into the Beacon uniform. "Better?"
"Yes. Much. Such modern clothing would be almost impossible to see in this time." Ozpin's smile faded. He turned to look at the tower, placing gauntleted hands on his hips. "This was before I broke Salem from her tower, back when the Gods still roamed the world. I cannot tell if this is her dream or my own."
"You should try and change something," Jaune said. Ozpin looked back. "Recently, I took Ren into Pyrrha's dream and we were all lucid. Pyrrha could change her clothing, while Ren couldn't because it wasn't his dream."
"Hm. I see." Ozpin looked down at himself and concentrated. Nothing happened. "I'm imagining myself in my old suit. I can't seem to make it change, however."
"Then this is probably Salem's dream."
Ozpin let his hands fall and smiled tightly. "Good. At least we have that down successfully. The only problem is this is the wrong time she's dreaming of. We won't discover anything she's doing now from a dream this far back."
"It's not like I can tell her what she's meant to dream..."
"You're right. Forgive me." Ozpin smiled and shook his head. "It's progress enough you got me here. Let us head on inside and see her. If nothing else, she should be safe like this. Back in this time, Salem was but a normal woman held prisoner."
Ozpin gestured for Jaune to follow him inside. The tower was pitch black and seemed almost endless. A huge staircase circled around the insider of it, lit by golden braziers on the walls. Looking at it, Jauen couldn't imagine it could be built by human hands – not normally, at least – but he remembered what Ozpin had said about the time. This was back in an era where two gods granted random wishes, and when magic was commonplace. It was possible someone had just asked for this tower to be made like this and had it granted, or that someone had used magic to move or create the stones. It was hard to imagine any of that from a modern standpoint, so Jaune imagined it more like Glynda's Semblance on steroids.
When Ozpin took the first step to begin the long climb up, Jaune grasped his shoulder and shook his head. Concentrating, he imagined up a platform in the centre for them to stand on, and soon it was ascending like an elevator.
"I admit this beats climbing the stairs," Ozpin said. "It used to take fifteen minutes to reach the top. After a while, I started abandoning my armour at the bottom because it was too much of a chore to carry with me."
"You said this place was a prison. Does that mean we'll struggle to get in?"
"No." Ozpin shook his head. "It was a magical prison that kept her in. The dangerous land outside was what kept others out. As such, there's no barrier to our entry. Best you do not dwell on it too much, Mr Arc. Just imagine it as a doorway with an advanced retinal scanner set to deny the one person who matches it. Explaining magic to the uninitiated is a headache."
"Why? Can't you just say it's magic and so it doesn't make sense?"
"No. Magic does make sense. It follows laws. But the laws of it are different to the laws of physics you know and..." He trailed off and waved a hand in the air. "It's like explaining colour to someone who is blind. At best, I'd leave you with more questions than you came with. And it really isn't worth it seeing as how the art is gone. Now, only Semblances remain, a highly specific and limited version of the magic we took for granted."
Jaune already wanted to ask more – so Ozpin was probably right about the questions. Luckily, they reached the top before he could. An open archway looked into a huge, circular room with a bed, sitting area, and more. Ozpin took a deep breath and strode into the room, with Jaune following behind.
It was a messy place. The top floor of the tower was one large room, with not even a room breaking off it for privacy. He could see a copper washtub in a corner, along with a pile of dirty clothes and scattered books. He wasn't sure why, but he'd imagined the evil queen of the grimm who threatened Remnant would live in conditions a little less like a messy student dorm than this. More tall thrones, skull pillars and threatening statues. Instead, Jaune had to step around what looked to be discarded underwear as Ozpin marched into the chamber.
"Salem?" he called. "Salem, are you there—"
"OZMA!"
A pile of clothing stirred and a woman lurched out of it. Her skin was pale, her hair golden blonde, and she looked so utterly excited to see them that Jaune was rooted to the spot. She was also, to his shock, stark naked.
"Ozmaaaa!" she cheered, throwing herself at the man. Ozpin caught her and swiftly draped his purple cloak around her body. "You came! I thought you never would!"
"Salem—" he said, voice strained. It must have been hard to see his old wife like this, young but also innocent, when she was now something far worse. Ozpin's complex expression spoke of love and hatred in equal measure, but she was innocent now. Naïve. He forced himself to stay calm in respect of that. "I've told you to wear clothes."
"Why? I live alone here and the only person who ever comes around is you." Her eyes became lidded. "And you didn't mind the last time..."
Blushing, Ozpin coughed and said, "Yes, but I've brought someone else this time and I don't much like him seeing you undressed." He steered her away. "Get dressed and then I'll introduce you."
Jaune turned away to give them some privacy. It was ironic that after months of promising to himself that he'd never use his Semblance to perve on his friends, the first person he'd seen naked was, of all people, Salem. At least I managed to stick to my promise there. I never used it against Weiss or anyone else.
As tempting as it would have been.
Minutes later, Ozpin came back with Salem in a white dress. The woman did look a little flushed from having flashed him. It was obvious she hadn't expected anyone but Ozpin. On the other hand, she also looked excited to see another person here.
"Salem, this is Sir Graveth Arc, one of my loyal knights and companions."
The name was unfamiliar. It must have been an old friend of his. Jaune wondered if the name had slipped out wrong because Ozpin was falling back into the dream, or if he'd given so as not to spark any awakening in Salem by giving his real name. She knew of Jaune Arc after all, and the name might have sparked her to become lucid.
Jaune offered a hand. "It is an honour, my lady."
"Hello," she replied, smiling awkwardly as she took his hand. "And I'm sorry about before. No one but Ozma has ever come here. I spend months, sometimes years, on my own. So... um... some things become less important."
Privacy, obviously.
"It's fine, my lady. Though, if I may ask, how do you eat or drink...?"
"Magic provides it," Ozpin answered for her. "Meals and water appear, be it for drinking or for bathing. This place is meant to keep her alive."
"But not happy," she said. "Physically alive and nothing more." Salem leaned on Ozpin's shoulder. "Which is why I am so happy whenever my dear Ozma can come see me." Her eyes flicked back to Jaune. "But it is a rare treat to have a guest as well! Ozma must trust you dearly to have told you of me."
More like Ozpin hadn't had a choice once he entered the man's dreams and found out about her. And as interesting as all this was, they hadn't come to Salem's to relive her earliest years. Jaune shot Ozpin a look. Ozpin got it, even if Jaune was sure the man would have rather spend the night reliving the good days with his ex-wife.
"Right. Salem, my love, we've come here with a purpose today," he told her. "And while it is ever lovely to see you, we need..." He trailed off, then said, "We need your help."
Her help...?
He hoped Ozpin had a plan with this.
"I'd give you what I can, of course," she said, "but what can I do trapped here as I am? I know nothing of the outside world. I can't leave this room. I know of no way I could be of help to you, my love."
"Ah, but that is where my friend comes in," Ozpin said, smiling coyly. "You see, Graveth here has a most special magic ability of his own – the ability to cancel and erode at the magic of others. We believe it may even allow you to leave this tower."
Naturally, Salem was stunned, shocked, frightened, but most of all excited at the possibility of it all. Jaune let her bounce off him and the walls asking questions, and did his best to deflect them back to Ozpin since this was his plan.
When Ozpin suggested she fetch herself more rugged clothing to travel in, and she darted off to do just that, Jaune took the man's arm and pulled him aside.
"What's all this about?"
"An idea I've had," Ozpin whispered back. "Naturally, we want to find out what we can from her, but she knows of us, and she knows of your ability. If we are too obvious then we risk triggering her to become lucid. At that point, I dare say her dream might turn hostile."
"I would withstand that."
"I don't doubt it, but we'd be leaving empty-handed. Coming back here presents a different idea. If it works, it works. If it does not, we won't have lost anything." Ozpin smiled as Salem returned in a thick white cloak that reminded Jaune of Ruby's mother. "Play along with what I say. The plan should become obvious."
"I'm ready!" Salem said. "What were you talking about?"
"Our plans for what comes after," Ozpin replied. "You see, while I originally planned for Graveth and I to come here and break you out, Graveth pointed out the obvious flaw in our plan."
"Flaw? Then... Then I am trapped...?"
"No. No." He rushed to her and took her hands. "It's only that someone trapped you here, and if we free you without dealing with them then they might return to do it again. Your imprisonment is but a symptom of a greater crime. One we ought to deal with as we free you, lest you be taken once more."
"Oh. Oh, that makes sense." Salem relaxed into him. "But how will we do that?"
"That is what Graveth and I have been focused on," Ozpin lied. "You see, we spent much time investigating the means and reason behind your imprisonment before coming here. Graveth has to know whose magic he is destroying before he can do so, hence we needed to find the man or woman who cast the spell. And we believe we have."
Salem's eyes widened. "Whom? Whom did this and why?"
"It is a witch known only as Cinder Fall."
So, that was it. Ozpin had been right to say it was so obvious he'd catch on when the plan was revealed. Such a simple plan was undoubtedly for the best, too. By painting Cinder as the witch behind Salem's imprisonment, it provided an easy bridge to tie this current dream to the real-world events taking place outside it. Now they could talk about Cinder without instantly breaking Salem's immersion and snapping her out the dream.
"Cinder..." Salem frowned. "The name... it does sound familiar, and yet I know not from where or how."
"Our information places here in a distant kingdom known as Vale," Ozpin remarked, casually. "Graveth and I hope that by taking you there, we might locate her. Or, at the least, provoke her into showing herself. Then he and I can deal with her."
"Vale... yes... I... Vale. That name. Why does it stand put to me so?"
Ozpin was pushing too hard and too fast.
Jaune stepped in. "If I may, lady Salem, perhaps we should focus on giving you the freedom that you crave first, and then worry about this ne'ever-do-well later."
"Ne'er do well...?" Salem asked, with a smile. "Your language is most peculiar, sir Graveth."
And here he'd been trying to talk like an old knight might. Jaune sighed. "I am a backwater knight."
"Ah, that explains it! I had wondered where you might find one with such unusual dress," she said to Ozma. "No armour, no helm, but this odd raiment."
"Tis a distant land," Ozpin said, shrugging it off. "Now, Graveth. If you might do the deed and break the seal on this tower?"
Use his Semblance to altar the dream, Ozpin meant. Jaune nodded. He'd have not known where to even start in real life, but, in a dream, it was as much about convincing Salem it was real than anything else. It could almost be likened to a placebo. The only "magic" holding Salem here was in her imagination, and in her belief of this old memory. He just needed to erode at that belief, and she'd imagine away the magic trapping her.
It was time for a show.
Jaune channelled his thirteen-year-old superhero phase.
"Ahem. Come unto me thee spirits!" Golden and blue birds burst to life around Jaune, flying in circles. "I who stand alone upon a sea of dreams, I who deliver justice. I cast your evil aside. Begone!"
Fire burst from Jaune's hand flanked by screeching magical birds, striking the archway to the tower and blowing it away. It was all imagined, all fake, but as Jaune imagined the archway crumbling and forced that vision into the dream, Salem gasped and clapped her hands excitedly.
While Ozpin cupped his face with one hand and shook his head.
"Hey," Jaune snapped. "It worked, didn't it?"
"Yes, Graveth." Ozpin rolled his eyes. "It worked. Let us go. My lady, allow me to help you out this prison for the first time."
Salem smiled and offered her hand. "My good knight..."
It was Jaune's turn to roll his eyes. "Ugh. Please."
"Jealousy does not suit thee, sir."
"I'm not jealous! I just—Ugh. Whatever." Jaune shoved his hands in his pockets. "You two can take the stairs for that one."
/-/
Though he'd threatened to make them walk it all, Jaune cheated and cut the walk from hundreds of floors down to ten. Ozpin noticed, but Salem didn't. There just wasn't time to drag the dream out when Salem could be waking up at any time. It wasn't like they knew the hours she spent sleeping.
"This will be the first time I have seen the world without a window between me and it," she said, clinging to Ozpin's side. "I am nervous."
"I am here," Ozpin said. "You will be fine. We shall ride out this land and to the kingdom of Vale."
"Will it be a dangerous journey?"
"No. There should be none at all to worry about."
The three of them moved to the large wooden door and Jaune and Ozpin pushed it open for Salem to step out of. Outside, the dark forests of pitch-black wood that Jaune hadn't blinked an eye at earlier stretched on for what felt like forever. It occurred to him that he hadn't thought to ask Ozpin where this tower had been, but maybe the landscape itself had changed over the millennia. For all he knew, this could be on the bottom of the ocean now.
Jaune imagined up a third horse before Salem noticed the two waiting for them. Ozpin saw it and nodded his thanks as he guided Salem over to them. "Look, we even brought you a horse," he said, helping her up onto the white one. Since it was under Jaune's control, it was completely placid.
"Ah, she's so tame and pretty," Salem said. "I've never ridden a horse before. Is it like riding you?"
Ozpin spluttered, and Jaune wisely chose to move away and mount his own, sparing himself the awkward and whispered conversation. Salem was smiling, so Jaune rather suspected she'd said that on purpose.
"We head to Vale," Ozpin said, still a little red in the face as he mounted his own horse. "The journey should be swift," he added, with a meaningful look Jaune's way. Skipping the journey, then. As if he'd planned to make them ride for weeks and weeks. Jaune nodded anyway. "Excellent. Let us be—"
A rumble in the distance interrupted them.
It was a low, ominous, animalistic growl that sounded louder than life.
"What is that?" asked Salem.
"Good question," Jaune said, and looked to Ozpin – the man who knew the area. "What is that?"
Ozpin frowned and looked back over his shoulder. "I don't know," he admitted, then glanced back Jaune's way. "Some figment of our imagination, perhaps...?"
The cue was obvious.
Jaune concentrated and reached out with his aura.
Only to have it snap back into him as something overwhelmed and devoured it instantly. It was like having his arm bitten off and eaten, except that it was aura instead of flesh and blood. He'd never had it happen before however, so he screamed and lurched on his horse, falling forward to grasp its neck. Sensing his anxiety, it began to pace and snort.
"J—Graveth!" Ozpin barked. "What happened?"
"I... I don't know. Something big, something powerful." Jaune winced and searched within himself. He'd lost easily half his aura trying to remove it from the dream. "It's not going anywhere," he said. "Whatever it is, I can't get rid of it. Either it's too strong or it's too much a part of this world to get rid of."
"The Gods...?" Ozpin cursed. "Even imaginary, they might be too divine to simply force away."
Salem looked confused. "What are you both talking about?"
"Nothing. And no matter." Ozpin cracked his reins and took hold of Salem's to draw her horse alongside. As he went past Jaune's, he reached out and gave the horse's rump a slap with his bare hand to get it moving. "If it's a part of this land, we'll simply move away from it. There was never anything here before, and there should not be now. And if it is one of the gods, that doesn't matter. We have done nothing to upset them at this time." Under his breath, and to Jaune, he hissed, "And they would be imaginary gods. They shouldn't be real in her dream."
"This was real," Jaune whispered back. "At least to her. I can use aura to influence dreams, Ozpin. That doesn't make me a god in them. If someone believes in something badly enough, it'd take too much aura for me to change it. This is something Salem believes in. It's something that's too real in her mind for me to get rid of."
Ozpin nodded. "Then we avoid it. Whatever it is."
The distant roaring grew louder, and the ground began to tremble.
"I'm not sure it's willing to accept that," Jaune wheezed. "And I might have provoked it by trying to will it out of existence."
Think of Jaune's explanation at the end as being a limit on his Semblance. Hypothetically, for instance, imagine he ended up in the dream of someone with a deep trauma. He couldn't just "fix said trauma" by purging it from their dream, because if the trauma is too rooted in them and too big of a deal, it's an arms race between his aura and their subconscious. And he can lose that race if the nightmare is too emotionally devastating to push back.
Next Chapter: 31st October
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