RWBY: Beacon

Day Seven

The first time Ozpin had brought me down to visit Amber, I’d thought the room seemed far too large for just one patient. There had been a lot of empty space, a lot of unused furniture, and Amber’s pod had looked out of place and isolated.

Now, I somewhat wished the room was bigger. It felt a lot more cramped with a giant ritual circle taking up most of the floorspace, even after most of the furniture had been moved out of the room, and there were a lot more people now than just Ozpin and I.

There were seven of us in the room now, not counting Amber herself who was fast asleep inside her pod. She looked far more peaceful than she had a few days ago, her scarred face lacking some of the tension that had been present previously. Ozpin had seemed nearly overwhelmed with joy when he’d first seen her after Kent’s first attempt at soul-surgery––her soul was still ragged, but no longer were bits and pieces at risk of breaking off and it was clear that much of the pain that had troubled her had abated.

“So, let’s go over everything one more time,” Qrow said. “Just so we’re all on the same page.” The man leaned back against the wall, his weapon propped up beside him within easy reach. He’d chosen the furthest corner of the room to settle in, positioning himself as far as possible from Amber’s pod and the rest of us.

“It's not that complicated,” Raven said sharply. She was standing on my left, actually present in the room for once instead of just watching over me through a portal, and had a hand on the hilt of her sword.

“What would––” Qrow began, but fell silent when Ozpin cleared his throat.

“Perhaps not,” Ozpin cut in before the two could start arguing again. I wasn’t sure how exactly the two were related, but they didn’t seem to be on particularly good terms. “But it would still be best to make sure. Take the time to check your weapons, dust, and other preparations. Once we begin, there will not be time for such things.” He turned to Kent, who was standing near the center of the circle beside Amber’s pod. His voice went from sharp to respectful. “Mr. Nelson, if you would begin?”

Kent looked up. “Ah, yes. Well. As you should all be aware, Miss Amber here is missing a not-insignificant piece of her soul, aura, and mantle that transformed her into the Fall Maiden. She’s currently stable, but I fear that, without drastic action, she may never recover fully.”

“Amber’s soul is missing too much of its core structure to recover fully on its own, and my efforts have so far been limited to damage control, not true healing. However, as far as I can tell, the two sections of her soul and the magic imbued into it are still connected. It is a faint thing, and I can feel the bond slowly degrading, but as long as we are able to reunite Amber with that rest of her being, I expect she will eventually make a near-full recovery.”

He paused, gesturing towards the floor around him. “That’s where this comes in. This circle is meant to amplify the link between the portion of the Fall Maiden’s powers within Amber, and those that were stolen from her. It won’t last long, but it should point us towards the person who currently possesses the other half of the mantle.”

Kent fell silent and Ozpin smoothly continued where he’d left off. “Hydrys here is capable of creating objects that allow their holder to teleport to a preselected location. He shall use the connection formed by Mr. Nelson to create such an object and then we shall all use it to ambush Amber’s ambushers in turn. Qrow, you’re the only one who's actually seen these people.”

Qrow straightened slightly, though his shoulders remained slouched. “Yeah. I saw three of them, though there could have been a fourth lurking somewhere. The one we’re after is a pale chick. She was wearing a red dress and had a bow on her back, so she’s probably a ranged specialist. She’s got some kind of tiny Grimm in her palm that she used to suck out Amber’s aura. I saw her use some of her new Maiden powers almost immediately, and she’s probably gotten better since than.”

“Other two, I didn’t see much. Dark-skinned girl with green-blue hair and a gray-haired boy. Both early twenties, both had aura. I’d put them on a third-, maybe fourth-year level, but I can’t say how tired they were after subduing Amber so it's hard to say for sure. One of them, or maybe their fourth member, is some kind of illusionist. They vanished way too smoothly for it to have been anything else.” He coughed into his fist, “That’s about all I got.”

“Thank you, Qrow. Now then, our priority is the false Maiden. Optimally, we would like to subdue her and bring her back here for interrogation and aura-extraction. Thumbelina,” he turned to the pink-haired Professor who I’d met earlier this morning in order to empower her with the Memorial, “that is your priority. Ensure she is subdued and unable to end her own life if it comes down to that.”

The woman nodded. There were several flowering vines wrapped around her arms and draped over her shoulders, and they were slowly wriggling around like snakes. The florakenetic was both Beacon’s primary medical doctor and the Professor for the local version of Herbology. She’d apparently been the one who had initially stabilized Amber and was a very powerful huntress in her own right, even if she’d been out of the field for nearly two decades.

Though she did not look a day over thirty, she was actually nearly ninety-years old and her mastery of aura-based healing was a wonder to behold. She could patch up fatal wounds in moments and was nigh unkillable as long as she had aura to burn.

He turned back to address all of us. “However, if she seems primed to escape, kill her. She is almost certainly in league with our Adversary and is extremely dangerous. The mantle should snap back to Amber on her death, and we can not risk her escaping.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“If she tries to run, she will not escape my blades.” Even behind her blank mask, I could tell that Raven was smiling viciously.

Ozpin smiled. “Thank you, Raven.”

Glynda, the last member of the group that Ozpin had brought together, spoke up before he could continue. “And the other two? Or three?”

Ozpin's smile vanished. “They too are in league with our Adversary. It is regrettable, but we shall all do what we must. Capture is preferable, but we do not need them alive. Do not allow them to escape.”

Glynda nodded slowly. “Understood.”

“Any questions?” Ozpin asked, looking each of us in the eyes one at a time. I met his gaze squarely. I was perhaps the least invested person in this whole operation, and yet its success rested squarely on my shoulders.

I had seriously considered sitting the whole thing out––I could create the portkey and then stay behind––but ultimately a combination of interest and greed had convinced me to join the group fully. I wanted to see how Huntsman fought when things were serious. I wanted to study this woman who had literally stolen magic from its rightful owner. I wanted to make sure that Amber recovered so that I could acquire the Blueprint of another powerful huntress.

“Good. Then let’s begin. Mr. Nelson?”

Kent nodded sharply. He made a gesture and golden light surrounded him and his cane, lifting him off the ground to hover above Amber’s pod, his head almost touching the ceiling. His cane hovered into place behind him and a golden ankh appeared around it, growing until it was as tall as Kent himself.

The circle on the floor lit up, magic flowing from Kent, through the pod, and then down into the ritual. He made several hand gestures, each one slow and deliberate, and the circle pulsed once, twice, and then a third time.

There was a flare of power, Order magic pouring off Kent in waves. Then the ankh behind him rushed forward and through him, shrinking as it flew until it was barely as large as my palm. I extended my left hand towards it and brushed my finger across the golden light. Instantly, I felt the connection, a tether reaching out into the distance.

I focused on the tether, my occlumency helping me interpret what it was telling me into more than just a direction. Thankfully, it didn’t seem as though our target was moving around much, nor was she all that far away. A few hours flight, if that. Raven had floated the idea that the trio could have escaped into the Grimm lands––the continent overrun with old and powerful Grimm that could pose a serious threat to even the most powerful huntsmen––but it seemed that was not the case.

Without removing my left hand from the floating ankh, I crouched down and tapped the rope lying on the floor in front of me with my wand. “Portus,” I declared firmly, focusing on a spot a short distance away from the end of the tether and pouring magic into the spell.

I waited for several seconds, then pulled my hand away from the ankh and instead used that hand to lift the rope into the air. “Thirty seconds,” I called out, “everyone grab on. She’s not moving, somewhere about two, three, hours Northish of here.”

Six hands quickly joined mine, each of us standing at least a foot apart like I’d instructed them to. Portkeys could be disorientating at the best of times and it was entirely possible that we’d appear some distance above the ground, in a building, or in some other perilous location. It was best to have room to move without slamming into each other.

I counted down mentally, then verbally for the last few seconds. Most of my attention however went into double checking the protective spells I’d cast ahead of time and making sure that my aura was prepared to protect me from any hits that got through my magic. My wand was in my hand and I was ready to cast on a moment’s notice, all five of my land bonds charged and ready.

“One,” I said, and then there was a wrenching sensation behind my navel and all seven of us vanished from the room.

We reappeared in a small forest glade, a bullhead sitting at the center of the clearing. There were no people visible, but signs of human activity––bits of garbage, footprints, the remnants of a fire pit––were scattered all around it. The huntsmen around me stumbled as we hit the ground, but quickly steadied themselves. The trip was smoother than I’d been expecting. Aura seemed to have dulled the worst of the twisting and wrenching that usually accompanied portkey travel.

Peach was the first to react. She dropped the rope and took a step back, then slammed both of her hands into the ground, her fingers sinking several inches into the topsoil. Several of the trees around us groaned and suddenly began moving as though they’d been transformed into whomping willows. They leaned inward, their branches snaking out to wrap around the bullhead’s engines. More branches began to move, extending out between the trees to form a crude net around the clearing. There would be no escape for our targets.

The rest of us were not much slower than she was. Kent floated into the air, a golden bubble snapping into place around him and his cane held firmly at his side. The huntsmen all drew their weapons and scattered throughout the clearing, their muscles tensed and ready to move.

Ozpin stared dispassionately at the bullhead. “Glynda, if you would.”

The woman in question nodded sharply and swung her riding crop. There was a groaning, tearing sound, and a moment later the bullhead’s hatch was torn clean off its hinges, the metal crumpling under the force of Glynda’s semblance. Glynda flicked her crop and the hunk of twisted metal was sent hurtling away, revealing the craft’s dark interior.

What came next happened almost too fast for me to see. Raven, who was standing several paces to me left, suddenly shot forward, the crystalline red blade of her sword cutting through the air with a sharp hiss. There were three staccato impacts, each so close to one another that it almost sounded like one sound, and then a trio bisected arrows tumbled to the ground behind her.

“She’s inside!” Qrow called out quite unnecessarily. He and Raven both charged towards the dark opening, Glynda following behind them at a slightly more sedated pace. Kent pointed his cane and a bright golden light surged from its tip, yet another ankh flying after the trio of huntsmen radiating a piercing glow.

I stared down at the arrows, then back up at the bullhead. I trusted my shields, but that had been…faster than I had expected. I raised my wand into the air and swiftly erected a white-mana empowered protego horribilis around myself. Safety first.