You pull your hand out of an Ursa's chest, clutching its heart. You squeeze and it pops.
(F/N): Is THAT enough?
Ironwood: It's just an Ursa, did you really think I would be impressed, Ozpin?
Ozpin sips his coffee and says nothing.
You pull out your axe, and shoot a Deathstalker flying far in the distance with it. The bullet sails right through its eye, and into its skull. It plummets to the ground, and you chamber another round.
(F/N): I've cleaned out the almost the entire forest, remember? Why am I even here?
You start to grow more and more frustrated.
Ironwood: He did what?
Ozpin sighs.
Ozpin: Please, forgive me Ironwood. I lack the proper resources to demonstrate his true strength in person. However, there is an alternative.
Ironwood: I'm listening.
Ozpin: We have footage. He humiliated Roman, and tore through the forest in an instant. And that's only what I've seen myself.
Ironwood: I'll believe it when I see it.
(F/N): Ozpin, c'mon. My friends are waiting for me.
Ozpin: Very well, (F/N), you are dismissed for now.
You dash away, creating a sonic boom in your wake. You can see Ironwood flabbergasted for a moment before you leave his view.
A few minutes later
With one hand, you block Jaune's sword swipes and slashes, and your other hand holds a book that you were supposed to be reading when you fell asleep in class.
Jaune's sword attacks actually cut your skin, somewhat, though the wounds are only as large as a papercut. He maintains a stance while in combat. He doesn't mindlessly charge you anymore. He's getting stronger, faster, and smarter.
You catch his sword mid-swing, and close the book.
Jaune collapses to the ground, exhausted.
Jaune: This doesn't feel fair.
(F/N): It isn't.
Jaune looks up at you.
Jaune: Then shouldn't I be matched up with someone who's as strong as me?
(F/N): You think you'll always fight people as strong as you?
Jaune sighs.
Jaune: Can we at least take a break?
(F/N): You already that tired?
Jaune flops onto his side.
(F/N): Alright, alright. We can stop for the day.
You grab your bag, and go back downstairs.
A few minutes later.
You dive and roll out of the way of a charging Ursa, and crack your knuckles. Your instincts roar, and you duck a Beowulf that tried to pounce on you from behind.
Evasion and defense are important when the odds are against you. If you don't have the strength for a battle, have the patience for the war. Don't take a hit you can't get up from. Fly like a butterfly. Flow like a river, swiveling in between the great foundations of dry land. Twirl and twist like the wind on that barren island where you were forged.
Spines rain on you from above, claws swipe, jaws bite, but you slip away from it all. Minutes pass by, more and more arrive, but it's no use. They can't touch you.
The sun starts to set, and you decide it's time to wrap it up. You duck under one last spine and jump far into the sky, drifting through the clouds. The frigid, humid air refreshes you as you fall to the ground. After a while of plummeting, you brace yourself and land silently at the entrance of the dorm...
Right in front of Ironwood...
...who spits out his coffee.
Ironwood looks up at the sky where you came from, back at you, then back up to the sky.
You shrug and walk past him.
Ironwood: WAIT!
You turn around with an eyebrow raised.
Ironwood: I've asked Ozpin so many things about you, and he didn't say a single word! What are you?
You're somewhat surprised that Ozpin didn't say much.
(F/N): Uh... I'm a teenager?
Ironwood: I find that very hard to believe.
Why does everyone have business with you? Why can't they just leave you alone? You don't want to hurt anyone.
(F/N): Sorry... I gotta go.
You swiftly turn away and walk inside.
A few minutes later
More and more spotlights light up on you. Everywhere you turn, someone's looking. From your classmates, all the way up to the kingdom's greatest. All of their eyes are on you.
You walk down the halls, ears peeled for anybody following you.
Everyone's expecting so much of you. Relentlessly, they praise your every move. To them, you're perfect. An unbeatable warrior, a great student, a handsome prince, what more could they want?
You open the door to your dorm, walk in, and close it behind you, making sure to lock it.
The hell of being in that stage at the initiation ceremony, the butterflies in your stomach, the applause of the crowd, it's coming back again.
You take off your shirt and lie down.
Even alone in your own dorm, you can feel their expectations. Or rather, his expectations. His clean and chiseled face, his raspy voice, and the crest of the Lycan on his neck.
You run your hand over the many scars left by his sword.
Warden. Your "real" father. You killed him. You obliterated him. He's not coming back for you, right? It doesn't matter.
You close your eyes. You see him.
His lifeless body is slumped against the splintered tree. His chest is caved in, his rotting hands are gnarled and twisted, with his sword still in his right hand.
You try your best to look away, but you can't. Just like before.
His head twitches and lurches.
You turn around to try to run away, but he's right there, slumped over.
His head finally stops moving. He sits upright, starting straight at you. His face is pale, and dried blood covers his mouth and nose. His eyes are sunken and lifeless, but they're so much more cruel than you remember.
Warden: You're a waste.
Chapter End
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