Empyrean 15 - Enaction 

Empyrean 15 - Enaction 

Jaune POV

His mind was filled with static.

He’d expected Winter to be happy. After all, she’d been hounding her mother to snap out of her inaction for years. He’d expected her to be thankful, but not… that.

He could still feel the softness on her lips, still feel that faint taste of cherry lingering on his lips. He could still feel her warmth pressed into his body, and it was aggravating, knowing that something like that wouldn’t happen again anytime soon.

That was the problem with spur-of-the moment, instinctual actions. Winter had spent the entire car ride apologising to him, unsure of what had come over her. He didn’t even get the chance to tell her that he liked it. No, he absolutely loved it.

The sharp edge of disappointment was blunted slightly by the fact that, as awkward as it had been right after that…incident, the smile on her face had stayed all the while till she was dropped off at the Ace Ops headquarters. 

God, he could commit a war crime if it meant she’d smile like that again.

As he stepped out into the brewing blizzard, he thanked the driver once. The man was the very image of professionalism. He hadn’t blinked once as Jaune and Winter sucked face in the back seat. Even now, all he did was nod once as Jaune thanked him.

Truly a saint amongst men.

No one dared stop him as he stalked through the corridors of the super-secured military facility. The Atlasbots moved aside, already warned of his arrival. One led the way, seamlessly falling into step in front of him.

The miracle of Atlesian technology.

The bot stopped in front of a set of heavy metal doors. Bombproof at the very minimum. Automatic turrets scanned the periphery. It was an excessive amount of protection for any normal person.

But when it concerned the protection of someone Jaune had thought of as a myth till recently, it was woefully lacking.

The problem with automated defenses like this was that while they were great against the Grimm, they would not help against a motivated group of huntsmen, or even against a group of normal men and women with a good plan.

As he stepped past the now-open gates, he was greeted with a normal-looking hospital room. Well, ‘normal’ if one looked past the excessive amount of monitoring equipment on the walls behind the bed. 

On the bed lay the most unassuming-looking person Jaune had ever met. Plain, simple, with a grandmotherly smile on her face, which morphed into a look of curiosity as he stepped closer. She was old. Older than anyone Jaune had ever met. Immortals excluded, that was.

Of course, Jaune knew that her normalcy was just a facade. Outside of himself, Jaune had never felt so much mana emanate from a human, not even from the immortals. It wasn’t mana in the way he understood it, though. It was single-aspected. Cold, like ice. Inefficient, like one part of a soul, cut out from the rest, had been stuffed inside her and left to rot.

If this was what a maiden was, then it was disgusting.

Apparently, enough of my disgust slipped through my veneer that the lady in the bed caught on. Her curiosity turned to sorrow, and I couldn’t help but curse myself. 

What a fucking way to make an impression.

“I’m… I’m sorry, it’s just your magic. It took me by surprise.” He spoke, and saw her eyes widen in alarm. She took another good look at him, before recoiling in surprise.

“You… How can someone like you exist?” She asked, her hands trembling.

“Well, in all honesty, I’m something of a recent development.” He spoke, walking over to her slowly, trying to act as non-threatening as possible. “I assume you’re capable of sensing my Mana too?”

“Yes… wow, it’s quite weird. “ She spoke. Her gaze felt like it was piercing through Jaune, trying to grasp his true nature itself. “It’s… there’s no element. It’s so calm. It’s like Ozpin’s mana, but like an ocean compared to his puddle.”

He knew, at some level, that Ozpin was capable of magic. He was deathless, after all. Yet, why did he contain so little magic that it escaped Jaune’s detection? That was something he’d need to clarify with the headmaster.

“May I hold your hand, Ma’am?” He asked, and after a second of hesitation, she offered it to him. 

It was still a novel experience, diving into one’s soul. It had been easier with Summer, because of how shattered her soul was. Fria, on the other hand, was far more complex. Not only because her soul was a chimeric combination of her own, layered over by the desiccated layer of ice-aspected mana, but she was so ancient that Jaune couldn’t tell where her soul ended and the aspect of ice began.

Poring over the chimeric monstrosity, he finally learned what the core of a ‘maiden’ really was.

His eyes opened, and he let go of her hand. She looked up at him, confused. He returned the gaze with a kind smile, one that helped her relax a little. She couldn’t help being a Maiden. She didn’t choose this for herself, and neither did her forebear. 

His disgust was not meant for her.

“Where are my manners? I’m Jaune Arc.” He spoke, gently placing her hand back on her bed. He sat down on the stool next to her bed, an understanding smile on his face.

“Would you like me to get rid of your… predicament?”

LB

Fria POV

He was not offering to kill me, that much I was sure of.

His smile was too gentle for that, too empathetic. There was a level of understanding that he’d reached once he took her hand, and it was far too genuine for her to even consider the idea that this man might be duplicitous. 

If he was, he would find it easier to hide that moment of disgust that had put her on edge.

He looked familiar too, and she could make out the faint whiff of Winter’s perfume from him, especially at this distance. He had waltzed into her room unimpeded, and once she peeked beyond his front, it left no allusions that, even if she were to fight him with her full ability as a maiden, he would have no issues dispatching her.

He was like a furnace of Mana, even beyond anything the Maidens could muster. His magic felt… complete, unlike her own. Unaspected, malleable. It was graceful, the way it gently coiled around him, unlike how her own magic raged like an un-abating blizzard, even when contained.

It was humbling, like believing you were a master mage, and then finally coming face to face with the real deal.

Arc, Julius Arc’s progeny. She could see the resemblance. It brought memories to her mind, memories of a better time, before she was consigned to being caged away from the world. An embarrassed blush appeared on her face.

Julius Arc was one hot piece of ass, and his bloodline did not disappoint either.

“Rid of my predicament? Do tell.” She spoke, slipping out of bed. Jaune didn’t comment on her decrepit appearance, not that she expected him to, but after that look of disgust, anything as possible.

She didn’t get to grow old as a Maiden without being wary.

“Being a Maiden is a curse of the soul.” Jaune began. “Your soul itself is incapable of generating mana, the basis of all magic. So whoever created this curse, all they did was split the mana of a soul four ways.” 

“I did not know that the soul was so malleable.” She whispered.

“It isn’t. The procedure could best be described by comparing it to an open heart surgery done with rusty scissors.” He spoke, and despite the seriousness of his words, I couldn’t help the chuckle that came in response.

“Is that why you gave me that look, then?” She asked, smiling at the kid. It seemed to be the right thing to do, as his stern countenance gave way to a sigh of exhaustion.

“Ripping the soul apart, it’s not something I even thought possible till now. Just looking at the monstrosity that has become entangled with your soul… it made me feel a certain way.” He spoke, his words measured, but the message was still conveyed crystal-clear.

Her soul was an aberration. She knew little about the soul, but that sounded dire.

“And yet you say you can fix it?” She asked.

He gave her a terse nod. “I’ve fixed a soul before, as impossible as it sounds. Your situation is harder than hers was, that’s true, but the magic itself that binds the fractured soul to yours is easy enough to undo.”

“The magic that makes the merging possible, that created the maidens to begin with. You can simply… remove it?” She asked, unable to believe his words.

“The magic is not complicated, the strongest of spells rarely are.” Jaune explained, “It’s a spell in two parts. One, that forces the soul fragment to assimilate with your soul.”

“The second? It’s a failsafe that makes it jump ship when your soul fades, with a target determined by your soul’s final fixation.” he spoke, looking her straight in her eyes. “No mysticism involved, just a system based on intent.”

“Getting rid of it will not be complicated.” he finished, standing up. “The question is, do you want that?”

Fria was silent for a moment. She’d gotten this power when she was young, maybe a little older than the man who towered in front of her. It had been the greatest thing that happened to her, a power that turned her from a medicare huntswoman to a force of nature.

A force of nature that had made her a treasured part of the Atlesian army during the great war. The same power that had allowed her to overpower legends in the field of battle. 

Then, the war ended, and the focus shifted from using her to preserving her. She had lost count of the years she had spent in prisons like this. Furnished to look like homes, to look like a place worth living in.

Her greatest gift was also her greatest curse, and she’d known that since the day she first stepped foot in her cage.

“Say, Jaune. You must have a title, right?” She asked.

He gave her a nonplussed stare. “Well, yes. I’m the Empyrean.” he spoke with a confused tone. “Not exactly public knowledge, but it means something to those who matter.”

She chuckled at him. “Well, as far as titles go, it’s far catchier than ‘The Winter Maiden’.” She commented, enjoying the confusion on her face.

“A title, Jaune, is a manifestation of expectation.” She spoke, taking a deep breath for strength. 

“Once one becomes a Maiden, we go from being individuals to weapons. Myths, when it comes to power, with the ability to turn wars on their head.” She continued, her rage rising.

“Yet, what happens when you no longer need the weapon?” She asked. “What happens when the myth is forgotten? Relegated to prose and song?”

She felt bile rise to her throat. Her nurse would have a heart attack if she saw her like this. Yet, the words came to her mouth unbidden, and so did the rage. 

“You become a relic. The owner no longer needs your abilities, but he is scared of what may happen if you are to be lost.” She spat, venom on her tone. “He binds you down, any way he can.”

“I’ve been bound since the day Atlas went up into the skies. The world, my oyster, has been reduced to a house, constantly patrolled by guards who would shoot me down the moment I decided to act up. My youth, all spent in gilded cages, till nothing but this sorry old woman remains, all to guard a fucking door.”

“So yes, Jaune Arc. if you can remove this blight from my soul. Then do so, but be warned.” She continued, walking right up to him. Even her righteous fury didn’t make him flinch, though the tint of concern in his gaze helped burn off some of her vitriol.

“If you take this power for yourself, then they will bind you to a cage, just like they did to me.” She finished, and noticed as his expression switched from concern, to realization, to rage.

And oh what a rage it was. It washed around her, yet did not affect her. The world around her, though, felt like it was shifting, covered in a haze of heat that felt almost real. Their shadows danced in the haze like they had minds of their own.

“There is no prison in this world that can contain me. There is no jailer that can hold me.” He said, and placed his hand on hers. 

Fria didn’t ever react as she instantly felt hollow. Cold, almost as if something crucial had been taken out, like her beating heart had been ripped out of her body. She felt the call of nothingness for a moment, like the voice of an old friend, though she could not tell which.

Before she could heed it, before she could answer her death call, warmth blossomed in her chest. It felt real, it felt familiar. It felt like her, but more.  

And it was here to stay, as Jaune removed his hand, a wisp of blue coalesced above his splayed palm. It slowly solidified, till he was holding a blue, luminous orb. She knew what it was, and in that moment, she couldn’t help but find it beautiful, despite all the pain it had caused her.

“It is done.” He spoke, and for a second, she was stunned. That was all it took. A quick touch and bam, she was freed from her lifelong curse. 

Yet, that wasn’t all he’d done. She could still feel it, the magic she cursed all her life, but it was different. No longer did it rage, trying to wrest control, trying to follow its will. It was calm, coiling around her like a long-lost lover.

Her magic, her own. He had somehow given her magic.

“That confirms my theory.” He spoke. His voice was distant, wandering, as if the mysteries of the world had been revealed to him.

“What theory?” She asked, bringing him back to reality. 

“The other soul I fixed. I ended up giving her the power to generate mana. It happened again.” He spoke, and a creeping feeling crawled up Fria’s spine.

“Are… are you implying that humanity’s souls are fundamentally broken?” She asked. 

Jaune didn’t nod. He didn’t speak a word. He didn’t need to, as his silence spoke enough.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She laughed, confusing him. He looked at her with a combination of concern and confusion. It looked absolutely adorable on his beautiful face.

“Of course, a world named Remnant would be full of broken people.” She spoke, the bitterness in her voice masked by the laughter that followed. 

“At least I’ll be able to spend my last days amongst these broken people, see how the other side lives life.” She joked, but it was lost on Jaune, who was looking at the orb in his hands, transfixed.

“Fria.” he spoke, a degree of uncertainty in his tone, as he continued to gaze into the orb like it was the most important thing in the world.

“Would you like all that time back.” He asked, and she froze mid-laugh.

“What?” She choked out. 

“This.” He gestured towards the orb in his hand. “this is the fragment of an ageless soul. The power it holds is impressive, but the nature of the soul is important here.”

“I believe if I were to repair it and feed it back into your soul, not only would it meld seamlessly with you, but extend your life.” He spoke, and I could feel my mouth dry up.

“Are… are you offering me immortality?” She asked, her eyes wide as saucers. 

“No. Even with the complete soul, the amount of power I’d need to render someone immortal would be astronomical.” He spoke, transfixed, as if trying to put together a puzzle only he could see.

“My forebear was able to give his followers immortality.” He spoke, stopping her in her tracks. “Till now, I didn’t know how, but this? This was definitely not how he managed it.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t extend your life. That? I believe I can accomplish that with this thing’s help.” He spoke, his eyes locked on the orb.

“How much time can you give me?” She asked. Disbelief, greed, incredulity, all flooded her mind, but over-reaching all those emotions was the most fickle of the lot, one that she hadn’t felt for decades.

Hope.

“I can’t tell. Could be a day, could be decades.” he spoke, finally looking over at her, “But it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

“Even if I can steal back a day of time from that blasted thing, I’ll be happy.” She snarled. Jaune did not react to her outburst, instead watching the blue orb in his hands slowly turn a pearlescent white.

“Let’s hope this works.” He said, and thrust the orb through her chest.

LB

Ironwood POV

Fria was young.

No, that wasn’t the main issue here. Fria was no longer the maiden. Yet, he’d seen Ozpin lose maidens before. The death of a Maiden, a force of nature, was rare, yet not unheard of.

For someone to go back to the days of their youth after spending a full life? That was new. New, and very abnormal indeed. 

Yet, there wasn’t a thing about Jaune that was normal. It was just another feat in his growing list of accomplishments.

He just wished it didn’t come at the cost of his sanity.

“She should wake up after a full night’s sleep, if you’re worried.” Jaune spoke. “Her body had to morph to match her soul. It wasn’t a pleasant process.”

“You… changed her soul?” he asked, hesitant as to whether he even wanted an answer to the question.

“Not really. I just… added more, strengthened it beyond human capabilities.” he spoke, looking over at Ironwood with a gaze that wasn’t all there.

“And that was enough to turn her back to a thirty year old?” Ironwood exhaled, exasperated.

“No, it doubled her lifespan, gave her more time to live.” He spoke, his tone distant. “By my estimations, I more than doubled her lifespan. Her body could not support her for that length of time, so her soul forcefully repaired it to a state that could.”

“She’s in her forties, by the way. She just looks very good for her age.” Jaune finished, finally seeming to focus again. 

“I’m not even going to mention just how impossible that sounds.” Ironwood stated. “I’m just requesting that the next time you decide to go out performing miracles of god, please let me know in advance so I can scrub the evidence clean.”

“I would have asked, but considering the state I found her in, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to ask for ‘permission’.” Jaune retorted, but there was no bite in his tone. 

“She’s no longer the Winter maiden, right?” Ironwood asked. Even though Jaune’s little message had confirmed that little fact as a side-note, it was still worth asking.

“The power of the Winter Maiden is gone, and so is any reason for you to keep her captive.” Jaune spoke. The expectation in his gaze felt more like an order, and Ozpin had spent enough time around figures of power to understand that it was, in fact, exactly that.

“She will be given her freedom. She could have had it years ago if she so much as asked.” Ironwood replied. “Ozpin allowed his maiden freedom, and as badly as that ended, I personally thought this was worse.”

“Then why didn’t you free her?” Jaune asked, genuinely confused.

“Last I saw her, she was older than the war. Even if I was to free her, death was imminent, and not even at the hands of an enemy.” Ironwood responded. 

“So I let her believe that the guards and defenses here were to keep her in. An omission of the truth, letting her believe that I was much the same as my forebears.” he continued, a grim look on his face. “I would not let her successor have the same fate as her. It was one of the first things I promised myself when I learnt of the truth.”

“And who exactly was her successor supposed to be?” Jaune asked, even as Ironwood saw realization dawn on his face.

“Take a wild guess. Her parents weren’t exactly good with naming kids. I just found it ironic.” Ironwood muttered, trying his best to resist the pressure that suddenly emanated from Jaune.

“Then I have no regrets.” He spoke, his voice colder than ice. “Had that role been forced on her, you wouldn’t have a city left to rule.”

The fact that he wasn’t brought down to his knees by the pressure was enough reason for Ironwood to believe that Jaune’s heart wasn’t in it. 

“She chose the role of her own volition.” Ironwood responded as the pressure slowly abated. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad she will never have to go through with it.”

“This does raise one concern, though.” he continued, straightening his tie. “The gate. It didn’t open when she lost her powers. Ideally, I would prefer that it never open, but tell me, have we lost the chance to open it, even if we are required to do so?”

Jaune shook his head. “If you ever need that door opened. Call me.” he responded. “I’ll be a safer jailer for whatever’s behind that door than any winter maiden you could muster up.”

“Then all I can do is thank you, Jaune,” he said. “Between giving Fria a second lease on life, freeing Winter from her doomed future, and taking wardenship of the Winter gate. You’ve made my responsibilities a lot lighter.”

“You’re a good man, James.” Jaune spoke, his words were soothing on a level that could only be achieved by someone else who understood the weight of world-changing responsibility.

After all, even as the de-facto leader of Atlas, Ironwood couldn’t hold a candle to the responsibilities Jaune would soon shoulder.

“If you want, I can get rid of another problem.” he spoke, his gaze locked on Ironwood’s arm. For a second, Ironwood struggled to understand what Jaune was implying, until he looked down and remembered that half of him had not been human for longer than he could remember.

He shook his head. “I fear that if I take you up on that, it would put me out of action for a long time.” He answered with a silent sigh. “I’ve gotten so comfortable with the feel of metal that restoring what it previously was would take me too long to get accustomed to.”

Jaune nodded. “Then I’ll keep the option open. I hope that one day, you will find the kind of peace that will allow you to shed all that metal without worrying about being ready for war.”

“I hope so too, Jaune.” Ironwood responded. “More than you could possibly imagine.”

Jaune gave him a terse nod. “Remember to be here to greet her when she wakes up, and make sure you apologise.” He commanded, the steel in his tone did not go unnoticed. 

“For your sake, I hope she’s more forgiving than I am.”

LB

Emerald POV

She stood up, looking into the mirror.

What stared back at her was not herself. For one, she was not a man. Neither was she fifty or balding. She didn’t have that beer belly, no one in her line of work could maintain something that luxurious.

Food and rest wasn’t exactly a commodity when one spent half their life on the move, and the other half cooped up in hideouts where the last time food was stocked was when the nations were still at war.

Still, she gave herself a once-over. Everything was right, from the slightly creased nature of his shirt, to the coffee stain on his tie. The physical representations that her semblance created were rarely imperfect. Even the tiniest details were rarely missed.

She couldn’t say the same for her acting, though. A stage-bound prima-donna she was not, but when the role she was supposed to play was this simple, all she needed to master was the art of kowtowing and the ability to maintain a generally tired, caffeinated existence.

Thankfully she’d gotten ample practice with the first after serving Cinder for years.

Cinder, again, her thoughts would keep circling back to her. No matter how tangential, no matter how far-fetched, reminders of her once-mistress were constant, and she knew that time would not help here. 

Closure, whether it came in the form of Cinder bleeding out, or spitting venomous barbs at her, was necessary if she were to move on with life.

And she did wish to move on. The seed of freedom, of self-dependence, had taken root within her, and once something like that was alive, it was very hard to kill indeed. 

Yet, the doubt remained. It had barely been months since she was freed, and here she was, in service of another power yet again. Sure, it was temporary, at face value, but once she went to Beacon, once she entered that den of beasts, there was a chance, ever so slight as it was, that she would not be walking out.

At least she had a source of assurance, and as far as sources went, hers was probably the best one could get.

Jaune Arc. Even as he was, leaning against a wall, deep in thought, was powerful enough and influential enough to guarantee her safety, and her pardon. He could not grant her closure, though. Or maybe he could, not that she’d ask. Something this personal was best handled alone.

He noticed her looking at him, and a wry smirk appeared on his face. 

“You know, if I didn’t know you were a pretty little thing under all that makeup, I’d have to call the cops on you.” he jested, and she swore she could feel her heart miss a beat. 

“Dream on, hero-boy.” She shot back, glad that her illusion hid her blush. If there was a god up there, she sincerely prayed that he punished pretty boys who thought they could get away with anything.

Mercury was bad enough, and he wasn’t even as pretty as the Arc. In fact, that comparison itself felt demeaning to Jaune. She mentally apologized, no one deserved to be compared to that infuriating bastard.

“Plus, you’re playing with fire, flirting with me.” She continued. “Winter’s not gonna be happy about that.”

Jaune shrugged. “I just stated a fact. You’re pretty. Easily in my top five, and trust me, Beacon was hell to live in as a hormonal youth.”

“Top five huh? And who’s number one?” She asked, only to get a deadpan look from him. Of course, the answer was obvious. The poor guy was smitten so bad, yet didn’t even realize how bad he had it.

It was cute, to see that someone with his power could still be so human, unlike the other monster she knew. Lady Salem would have punished her if she so much as ever dared show her this kind of lip.

It also gave her hope. Once she put this whole affair behind her, she’d be truly free. Free to live how she saw fit, fit to do whatever she wanted, maybe even free to love someone for once.

She sighed, she was allowing herself to hope. It went against Cinder’s creed to do something so banal, so easy to subvert, but it was her own form of rebellion, and she would die before she followed any of her teachings again.

“I’m ready.” She spoke, and got a nod as a response.

“Where’s your target?” He asked.

“Sleeping in his bed. I convinced him that he was off for the week, and even used his computer to send out a scheduled out-of-office mail tomorrow.” She spoke, getting an appreciative look from Jaune.

“Then his alibi will be solid. Good, I don’t want him to come to any harm. If our luck holds, we’ll have wrapped everything up before he returns to work.” Jaune finished.

“You presume there will be a place left for him to work at?” She asked.

Jaune gave her an affirmative nod. “Yes. We’ll need all the manpower we can get if we plan to rescue the corporation after Jacques is gone.”

Again. Cinder would have just gotten the guy killed, even with the assurance that he wouldn’t remember anything anyways. No loose ends. Jaune was not like Cinder, and she appreciated that more than he could ever imagine.

“If you say so.” She spoke, walking past him. ‘You want the guy’s name?”

He shook his head. “No, it would look weird if I knew his secretary by name.” 

Emerald nodded. That was a good catch on his part, and if he caught it, Jacques Schnee would too. That couldn’t happen, not when so much was on the line. 

As she walked out of the safehouse, Emerald couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. Jaune raised an eyebrow, but she deigned to not explain her mirth. Who could have imagined that her biggest heist would happen once she decided that she was finally done with crime? The irony was beautiful, but seeing the look on Jacques’ face once he realized what was to happen to him?

That was going to be sublime.

LB

You guys like cliffhangers? Great! On the plus side, we're at the final stages of this Arc, and once we're done here, we're going worldwide!

Next set of updates will be in 3 weeks or so. Chapter 13 will now be uploaded to FFnet. You can read there too, but, well, why would you read the same thing twice?

As always, join the discord for more shenanigans. Link is https://discord.com/invite/AP8nG65RmA