Things You Wrote On the Walls

“You are wondering I have called you here, and it is I who thanks you for coming, Glynda, James, and Qrow.” The latter named was slouched by a pillar, his ruby colored eyes narrowed, reflecting the window. There was a freshly puckered wound on his throat, and his face was sallow and bitter, drawn with sleeplessness. His eyes weren’t clouded with the mist of intoxication, for once, but in soberness, they were hardly better— they glittered with anger, as hard as chips of flint.

“Sober— what a surprise— and wounded,” growled Ironwood, breaking gruffly through Ozpin’s silvery words. “How’d you get it, Branwen? Because Ozpin here isn’t speaking… what say you?”

“What are you flapping your gums on about now, Jimmy?” Qrow snapped, clearly in a bad mood and not to be trifled with.

“Your scar, Qrow, your valued scar. How’d you manage to get injured this time? From a drunken fight, was it?” Ironwood’s voice held a note of derision. “Or another failed assignment?”

“A fight? ‘Course not. You thickheaded, metalskulled idiot, you think I’d charge so heedlessly into a fight?” Qrow swayed a little on his feet and laughed, a harsh, grating sound like a rusty knife scraping against stone. “No. Not directly. It was a run-in a bit of time for a man in a spot of trouble. I took a blow for a Huntsman down there, a great man— one of the few. Saved his life, you know? I saved that man’s life. You're damn right, I value it."

“As you should.” Ozpin’s lips thinned as he glanced at the general. “Peace, James. Qrow, hold your tongue. I’ve called for a reason—”

“Yeah, well,” Qrow growled, tipping back the thin flask with a flash of anger, “seems you just want to talk in more riddles instead of doing a damn thing to keep Remnant from being destroyed.” Qrow hooked his thumbs in his pockets and snarled viciously, something feral and cold behind his eyes. “What’s it gonna take, Oz? A call from the good gods themselves? Or do you have to look into the eyes of more dead citizens to finally quit assuaging your guilt, to take a different course that might screw over your nice ’n tidy plans?”  

Goodwitch’s eyes flashed as she brandished her riding crop in Qrow’s direction, jabbing him unflinchingly in the chest. The Huntsman’s eyes went to dark slits. “Qrow, don’t you dare speak as if you have any authori—”  

“Hold your peace, Glynda.” Ozpin rose and faced the iridescent window, shoulders falling as he looked out over the campus, dark and peaceful in the night. Not for long, Ozpin thought, sadly; no peace, no matter how absolute, will ever last forever. If she taught me anything, it is that. “He’s right.”

“He has no idea what’s going on,” Ironwood growled, rolling his shoulder with a pained glint in his electric blue eyes, “because he’s been drinking into oblivion instead of doing his duties. Tell me, Branwen, where is our Spring Maiden running off to this time? She’s your sister.“

“Shut it, Jimmy, you overgrown infant,” Qrow snapped, and Ironwood’s face curdled in a look of hatred. “I’m not Raven’s babysitter. No idea where the hell she’s run off to, nor do I want to. I’ve told you time and time again that she’s a ticking time bomb. Everyone she touches she ruins. You really want that influence here again?”

“Her influence doesn’t matter, or her crazy ideas of dark and light!” Ironwood spat, before making a visible effort to calm himself as Ozpin gave him a warning look. In a tone of forced calm, he faced Qrow. “You must find her, Branwen. We can’t risk having her attacked, especially with the assailant now even more powerful and dangerous than before. It’s bad enough as it is, facing this; there are so many unknown variables. God knows—”

“She left her own daughter after looking her in the eyes,” Qrow said softly, dangerously. “What makes you think that she would give a single care to a world that’s rejected her a hundredfold?”

“Her wounded pride isn’t what’s at stake here,” Glynda said, though her tone lacked maliciousness, and Qrow bristled at her. “It’s hope, Qrow. Life itself. Would you sacrifice a whole world for your kin?”

“Ah, life. How kind of you to broach the topic, Glynda.” Qrow’s eyes glittered like a cat’s. “Much as I hate to break such a cordial discussion with the grown-up topics, it’s gotta be done. Enough about my sister. Ozpin.” Qrow turned towards the headmaster with the shadow of a snarl on his face. “Go on, you have some explaining to do.”  

“I’ve already told you what shall happen because of the… conditions fettering the transfer of the Maiden’s ability. I know the one who shall be our inheritance for Amber’s powers.”

“Our inheritance?" Disbelief rang in his voice. "That’s bull, Ozpin! The innocent fool of a kid that you pick is only your pawn, and you know it. If you’re gonna blight some bright-eyed, bushy-tailed student with your fanatic ideals of just sitting in the shadows and letting things run the course until we’re all choking while she steps on our backs in her race for chaos— “

“Enough, Qrow! You’re being detrimental when it was your job to watch over Amber in the first place, and you failed! That is why she is little more than a corpse right now! That is why we’re here.”

Qrow recoiled as if he had been struck, his eyes furious. “Funny that you talk of jobs when it’s you who’s making all the mistakes. Ozpin, you’re the fool who’s going to use more innocents to fuel your plans. Who is it now?” he demanded. “Which student has your high and mighty self handpicked to be the next sacrifice?”

Ozpin looked down and away, any anger fading, to be replaced with something very like sorrow. “It’s only a suspicion, Qrow. But it’s not your nieces.”

Some of the fire faded from Qrow’s gaze, replaced by a darkness deeper than the night falling outside. “Yang mustn’t know. Must never know of the power my sister holds. It’s only a matter of time until she figures out why she abandoned her; we all know a petty lie won’t hold out forever. Raven is— was— irresponsible in having her child with Taiyang, and it was only the destructive power that the Maiden’s curse bestowed upon her that persuaded her to give them both up.”

“Her and Summer both.”

Qrow turned his head, spat on the ground in a gesture of more misery than anger. “Two in one. You know very well that Amber’s soul, and the Autumn powers, will have total sovereign over whoever you chose. You’re essentially damning an innocent —  Oz, there’s every chance that whoever you pick will die in all practical senses.”

“I know the ramifications,” Ozpin said, and there was anguish in his voice. “There’s no other choice. None. None at all. If I could do it myself, I would in an instant, but—”

“Only a young woman may bear the mantle of the Maiden. I’m aware. And Ruby,” Qrow said abruptly. “You haven’t told her about— her eyes, her hidden skills, have you?”

“She may be like her mother, Qrow. She may not. But if she truly does have powers that lay latent within her, she may be our final hope. We cannot do anything to alter the course of fate. Let things run out how they may, but you cannot force these things. The silver-eyed guardian must arise in her own time, and her own way.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

Qrow was silent, and Goodwitch let out a heavy sigh as Ozpin turned back around, new lines creasing his face. “Meanwhile, we must look to other horizons, to secure ourselves. James, the militaries must be ready to bear arms at a moment’s calling. And you yourself must make sure to be … loyal. Loyalty always.”

Ironwood’s voice was surly, sharp with reproachful resent and anger. “The fealty I’ve rendered to you for years— years, Ozpin— isn’t the question here. If you mean to tell me—“

“It is not what I am asking, James.” Ozpin rose, eyes glittering. Wind stirred his hair, the chill of the air stiff in the room. The shadowed dapples of the gears darkened his face. “I have had your backing for as long as you have led the militaries. But even the wisest can be corrupted through manipulation. The enemy we face is a master of it, as intelligent and cunning as any tyrant can be. She alone could defeat Amber, a master of combat, and inspire mountains to sway to her side. What makes you any different?”

“You’re suggesting that I could be led astray.” Ironwood’s eyes were narrowed, gaunt cheeks taut.

“I am not suggesting that it is merely you that could be persuaded, but every person, every innocent. Peace breeds violence, James; times of no change bring about the greatest storms, ribbing the sky and sapping love from the world. Blind trust has led many fools to their demises. We must take every step, every reassurance, to ensure that evil does not walk unfettered into our midst. No matter what the cost.”

“But even so—“

“Remember the seasons, James,” Ozpin said, eyes two slits of gold. “Without one, the other cannot exist. Remember the nature of your world, whence you came, James.  Where there is colour and form, where there is warmth as well as cold.  Remember this and, before we fight, know that without night there is no day, without lies, no truth, without despair, no hope.  Beware above all of hate, but call to its opposite too.  For all things have an opposite and, if you choose it, with will and care, you may turn one thing into its reflection. We must ensure the safety of the people.  You must trust me to do what needs to be done to protect Autumn and her sisters, and then down to Ruby, the smaller soul. So it is that we must make sure they are safe… whatever the cost.”

“The cost,” Ironwood exhaled, looking decades older, his face lined and weary. “Sometimes it is too much to pay.”

“Our victories may seem like defeats as they come. Amber’s comatose state is one, but it’s a small mercy that her power is at least partially intact. Another is that the borders hold strong still. But no matter what lives lost, souls torn asunder, we cannot hesitate, cannot let fear overcome hope. Our hope must be our light, our beacon, as strong as a star in the darkness, as unwavering as the earth itself.” He turned to the night sky, storm clouds gathering far off in the distance, the stars slowly fading as darkness swallowed them.

"Only when we lose that will she truly have won."