Final chapter.

Replacing this on the Sunday slot will be Remnant's Blonde Bard. That won't happen until after Christmas, however. Until then, Blonde Bard will continue on the fortnightly Tuesday slot.

Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 89

Jaune Arc looked down at his heavy wooden desk and longed for the days when he wasn't forced to spend so much time sat at it. He could feel his legs getting chubbier by the day, and his back had started aching whenever he spent too long sitting down.

"Such are the perils of growing older," a voice whispered in his mind.

"You'd know, you old man. And I'm only thirty-two. That's not old."

Ozma's chuckles made him feel it. "There's still plenty of life in you yet but that doesn't mean your body won't start betraying you at every opportunity. Take a break if you wish it. There is no one saying you must finish this in one sitting."

"True, but if I don't then the pile of work I need to do only grows."

"That is the nature of paperwork, Jaune. There is no defeating it. Only learning to live with it."

That was far too macabre a thought to be having. Jaune sighed and took a sip from a crystalline glass of clear water. The latest trade commodity out of Vacuo, once they had finally opened their borders some six years ago. Six years. It had been fourteen since the final battle against Salem and it took Vacuo eight years to realise their goddess wasn't coming back and that maybe the delegations from Vale had been telling the truth. Eight wasted years. The arrogance and folly of those people never failed to astound him.

It had gotten to a point where he'd considered invading them if only to knock them down and start building them back up, but, ironically, it had been Ozma who advised caution and to let them come to terms with things on their own.

"And I stand by it. Eight wasted years may seem like a long time but it is only Vacuo. You have used these years well. Vale, too."

"Hmm. Their academy should be seeing its first graduates this year. Not that there's much of anything for them to do. I feel bad for them in a way. They're dedicating their lives to being huntsmen and there aren't any Grimm for them to slay. Or there are, but they have to go out their way to find them. It must feel like a waste of their talents."

"Better that than a waste of their lives. They know of Salem's return the same as anyone else. They are an investment into the next generation. Teachers of those to come."

"With the number of teachers we're cranking out, we might need more academies."

"It was only ever four in the past but… Four academies did fail. I would not argue against more, or expanding the ones we have further. It was ever budget constraints back then, from governments and kingdoms that had grown too used to a certain degree of peace that they failed to take the threat seriously. I kept Salem a secret to avert panic and, in doing so, I gave her the cloak of anonymity she needed to act against me."

"Don't get too lost in memory lane now," said Jaune. "Think of the future."

Ozma mumbled something that might have been an agreement, but their conversation was broken by a swift knock on the door and then it opening. Blake strode in, the elected ruler of Menagerie – for this term and the last two – was carrying a roll of scrolls and missives, along with a small parcel wrapped in dried leather.

"Messages from outside Menagerie," she said.

"Why are you the one delivering them to me? You're the only person on this island with more work to do than me."

"Don't remind me." Blake dumped them on his desk. "But I have some information to share from my own sources. First of all, the reclamation of Mistral is continuing as expected. Nora and Ren have finally cleared out the old city of Mistral, but they say a lot of it is too damaged to be safe moving back in. Instead, they're going to cannibalise it for building materials and construct a new, smaller town. Grow it from there."

"Wasn't the plan to shore up weaknesses and move into the old city?"

"I can only assume the buildings are so dangerous they'd forever be a risk to their occupants. They've sown their first seeds for crops but are asking for supplies to be sent so they can keep going until then. I have a ship set to sail in the morning, along with a few more pioneers who want to move there. It's mostly younger people wanting to move out from their families or make a name for themselves. We have supplies to spare."

"That's good. Anything else?"

"Vacuo are demanding to meet with you once more."

Jaune sighed. "And, once more, tell them that they are more than welcome to send a delegation here but I'm not going to put myself at risk travelling to one of the last places on Remnant where die-hard supporters of Salem still exist. Have they even taken out instructions to build an academy seriously?"

"I don't know, but I'm taking the fact it's not mentioned in the long and waffling missive I received from them as a bad sign."

"Those fools."

"They never saw Salem as we did," said Blake. "Vacuo is the only kingdom on Remnant that was spared her wrath, and some see it as divine intervention. That their devotion kept them safe. It's not easy to take dire warnings seriously when you live in peace."

They'd change their tune in eighty-five years when Salem returned, but it might be too late to do anything about it by then. Simply cutting them off didn't seem like the right choice, but their stubbornness was getting tiring.

"We have time yet," said Ozma. "Do not rush into a conflict when it isn't needed."

Blake noticed the twitch of his brow. "Advice from the old man?"

"Yes. He says to leave Vacuo be and not pressure them."

"Then he's more patient than I am," she said, sighing. "But I guess we can give them a few more years. There's going to be a whole generation of people becoming adults who never lived under Salem's influence. They'll be more willing to listen to us." Blake frowned. "Saying that makes me feel old, then I realise I am old."

"You're in your early thirties, Blake. That isn't old."

"Hmmm. I feel it."

"I thought you said Yang was keeping you young." He knew that was the wrong thing to say when her eyes blazed, and her lips peeled back. "Oh dear. What's she done this time?"

"Made me angry. That pig-headed… no. No, we're not doing this."

Blake took a deep breath and released it, her nostrils flaring. No one knew exactly when Yang and Blake had become a thing. It had been years after Adam's death, with Blake still grieving, and even Ruby said she didn't understand it. They fought like a cat and a dog.

As long as they were happy, he supposed.

"I've got less good news from Atlas," she said. "The rebuilding is going well, and Weiss and Whitley have gotten a small academy up and running. It only has half the capacity of ours, but it's already cranking out talented people." Blake took a breath. "However, they've found her influence in the region."

Jaune gripped his desk. "Is she breaking the agreement?"

"Technically not…?" Blake's answer had him relaxing only a little bit. "There haven't been any Grimm or sightings of her in person, but they caught one of their new students taking lesson plans and giving them to someone. The person fought to their death rather than be captured and interrogated, and they had Salem's emblem tattooed on their arm. Weiss and Whitley aren't sure if that means she is active, or if it isn't some cult doing what they think she would want."

"Less than ideal either way. I'll see about sending a team or two of our new graduates to Atlas. Let them get some experience in colder climates and work with Weiss and Whitley to hunt down whatever this is."

"Hm." Blake glanced away. "Between you and me, I'm still not sure why Salem is sticking to this peace."

"Ozpin thinks it's a combination of pride and curiosity. Pride in that she's afraid breaking it will show weakness on her part, and curiosity in that she's watching how the world reacts to losing her. He says it's like someone wanting to attend their own funeral. Salem is probably curious to see if civilisation can work without her. I imagine she's loving the fact Vacuo is giving us trouble."

"If destabilising the kingdoms brings her joy then we might need to worry about these agents of hers being true."

"I agree," said Ozma. "Even though she agreed to one hundred years of peace, that doesn't mean she won't be active for it. Anything that she can deny will be fair game. I expect the war will begin long before the hundred years are up. A fresh challenge for your new huntsmen."

"We'll send four teams," he decided. "I don't imagine she'll have any luck forming a foothold here with how everyone on Menagerie thinks of her, but keep an eye on the younger generation. They won't have seen the visions we did. They haven't seen the horrors she brought forth."

"Don't worry. I have the schools teaching the reality of what happened in Mistral and Vale. There's not a child growing up on the island who doesn't know Salem slaughtered tens of thousands of innocent people. I'm more concerned of these agents finding fertile soil in the other kingdoms. Vacuo and Vale especially. Whitley and Weiss are motivated enough to hunt down any traitors, and Mistral will remember what happened to it. The others not so much."

Vale was in an alliance with them officially, but relations still weren't great. They were peaceful now, and people had gotten used to the idea that he wasn't a threat to them after fifteen years. Vale had even elected a democratic council as well, rather than a single ruler, saying that they'd had enough of despots. Jaune got the feeling he was included in that, even though all he ruled was an academy on an island.

Even so, it wasn't hard to imagine the alliance waning over the coming decades, and maybe falling apart after his death, once Vale knew there was no risk of him coming back. There were times he wondered if Salem hadn't played a clever game in giving one hundred years. If she'd given ten or twenty then they'd have still been around, and an invasion of Grimm would have unified the kingdoms once more. A century was just enough time for people to grow fat and overconfident and start conflicting with one another.

"Trust a little in me, Jaune," said Ozma. "We have made arrangements, you and I. Even after your death, the academy knows to seek my new host and bring me here to be trained. I kept Remnant safe for many millennia before, and in a weaker position than this."

It helped to know he wouldn't be leaving Remnant to its own devices. Their relationship hadn't always been good, him and Ozma, but there were times like this he was glad to have him. Jaune, Blake and Ozma talked for well over an hour, until sun fell and she had to leave for food and to deal with a drunk and troublesome Yang.

He had to head home as well.

/-/

It was inevitable that he'd end up living on the academy grounds when they were built. The people of Menagerie did like him, but it would have just been inconvenient to have to walk from the town to the school and back each day. Since they knew Menagerie still had a lot more growing to do, they'd built the academy a good distance from it. Only about a mile, within sight, but room enough that Menagerie could double or triple its population before bumping up against Menagerie Academy, as it was rather unimaginatively named.

Ozma had wanted a name that suggested peace and safety like Beacon, Haven, Signal or Shade, but Jaune had been able to convince him that simply naming them after the old academies would be an insult to their memories. He'd agreed, though Jaune had the feeling it was more of an agreement not to rename them until after he was dead and gone, at which point it'd end up being dubbed "Beacon" or something similar. The pettiness was too amusing to feel upset about.

"I'm not petty."

"Sure you're not. Sure you're not." Jaune chuckled as he opened the door to his home, then smiled as he heard sound within. He hadn't thought they'd be back. "I'm home!"

"Daddy!"

A tiny blur rushed him, but he was quick enough to weave some magic and pluck her off the floor by her feet, rotating the girl upside down and dangling her in the air. Summer Arc flailed her arms about helplessly, shrieking and giggling.

"Daddy, no! Don't be mean!"

It was meant to be a training exercise for her to use magic to break free, but Summer enjoyed being tossed around by his magic too much. The eleven-year-old girl had grown up in the academy with him and Ruby, and magic and aura was a part of her childhood. Where other parents played peekaboo with their fingers, he and Ruby had entertained their daughter with dancing firelights, sculptures of still running water, and games of her being thrown around like she was flying.

Magic had only been a weapon for them for so long that it had felt good and pure to use it for a happy purpose. To play games and create wonder in children.

And when Ruby walked into the main quarters of their home, Jaune felt his heart glow. She'd grown, both a little taller but much more outward, filling out into a woman with soft features and longer hair, tied into a braid behind her. Her silver eyes twinkled and she approached him with hurried steps.

"That's my cue to leave," said Ozma, vanishing into a quieter part of his mind.

Ruby reached him soon after, wrapped an arm around his neck and drew him down for a scorching kiss that had Summer's shrieks of glee turn to horror, especially when she was suspended in the air unable to look away from what her parents were doing.

That'd teach her to not have the fine aura control necessary to break free, wouldn't it?

"You're back early," gasped Jaune, when Ruby pulled away. "I thought you'd be gone tonight until tomorrow."

"We would have, but then a certain someone sprained her leg."

They both turned to look at Summer. The small girl was more a spitting image of Ruby than of himself, with only a few of his features like his nose to pick from. Though, to Ruby's dismay, Summer had inherited his height, meaning she was destined to grow taller than her own mother. Ruby wouldn't stop complaining about that.

"I thought you were only going out to teach her to fight and hunt in the wilds," he said. "How did she end up spraining a leg?"

"I don't know," said Ruby, voice stern. "Why don't you tell him, Summer?"

"It was so cool!" gasped their daughter, very much missing the implied threat. "There was this big rock and this pond, and I wanted to practice this cool move I'd seen Auntie Yang pull off where she does a double backflip into a kick—"

"Yang," growled Ruby, shaking her fist.

"Your Auntie Yang uses aura to propel her jump higher," said Jaune, making Summer pull a dumb expression. "She does not jump off rocks to manage it. And let me guess, you missed the water entirely…?"

Summer blushed and looked away. "S—Shallower than it looked…"

"Less than a foot deep!" growled Ruby. "Deep enough to drown in but not deep enough to jump into. Ugh. It's bad enough you want to learn to fight with an impractical weapon—"

"Scythes are practical."

"As farming tools!" Ruby despaired. "Not as melee weapons – and you're not installing a crossbow onto the haft. I don't care what stories Grandpa Ozma has told you, but putting a crossbow on a scythe is a stupid idea."

"But it'll be cool!"

Ruby howled and threw her hands in the air.

Cool. The dreaded word that had taken popularity in Menagerie. Its translation appeared to be nothing more than this odd concept that you should do things that looked or felt awesome, regardless of practicality. Yang was cool, because she was a wild idiot that didn't care for the rules and regularly told kids the most horrifying stories of the war. Ruby and Jaune were not cool because they taught in a school, and teachers weren't cool even if it being a huntsman academy did make it cool.

Jaune didn't understand it and Ruby had given up trying.

"Can't you just use a sword and shield like your old man?"

"What? Dad, nooo. That's boring!"

"Are you saying I'm boring?"

Summer nodded innocently. "Yep."

Ouch. That hurt.

Ozma's distant laughter in his head wasn't helping any. With a sigh, he lowered Summer down to the ground and let go of her with his magic, then picked her up and hugged her normally, lifting and carrying her into the kitchen where Ruby had a pot bubbling. He'd been a little upset about having to spend the night alone, so he wouldn't punish Summer too much for getting herself injured, but they'd have to up her training.

Just because she might never have to fight Salem didn't mean her own children wouldn't, and if the war began early using agents and proxy battles between humans under her influence, then any descendants of his would make prime targets. Summer needed to be strong enough to defend herself and her family.

Though, to his relief, she wouldn't be alone. Ozma had promised that even should Jaune die, he would come back and check up on his children for him. Guide them if he had to, prepare them for what was to come, and aid them in the wars of the future. They would never truly be alone, and he often allowed Ozma control to meet Summer and help both in training her and in getting to know her. Having a dad with two souls was a little odd, but Summer had gotten used to it through exposure, and now enjoyed having a grandpa as well as a dad.

Dinner was a loud and chatty affair, first with stories from Summer but eventually with him recounting what Blake had told him. They always spoke in front of Summer, believing it best for her to know what was going on and be informed for the future. Treating her like a child who didn't need to know would only have made her more curious, and might have given her the wrong idea. Better she get the information straight from the source.

"Does that mean I'll get to fight sooner?" she asked, all excitement.

"It means Salem might use assassins to try and kill us," said Ruby. "That's not a good thing."

"Meh. They can't kill either of you. You're too strong."

"But you're not." Ruby tweaked the girl's nose. "Which means you're going to have to get stronger faster, and you're not to leave the academy without an escort."

"Or I could become a student sooner—"

"We're not putting you on a team with sixteen-year-olds." Jaune shuddered at the idea. They'd had this conversation many times. "We've already told you we'll let you join when you're fifteen, but that's as far as we'll go. And you're already getting a more in-depth education than most kids your age."

"Yeah but—"

"No buts." Ruby swatted their daughter over the head. "And stop bringing it up. You asked us not four days ago. We're not going to get tired of saying no if you just keep asking. And a girl who can't even get her aura up in time from a backflip—"

"Double backflip—"

"Same thing!" Ruby smacked her over the head again. "Point is, you're not good enough to join the academy yet. And if you have time to keep asking then you have time to train. And not with your Auntie Yang. It's obvious to me she isn't teaching you right." Ruby smirked. "Maybe we should ask Auntie Weiss to take care of you for a few months like she did two years ago—"

"Nooooooooooooooooooooo!" Summer kicked and wailed. "No, no, no! Auntie Weiss is so boring! No more tests. No more studying. She wouldn't' even let me go out and play in the snow unless I could answer questions!"

"Then be good and do your homework and I won't," said Ruby.

Predictably, Summer rushed to her room to pretend to study and more likely to sulk. Or worse, to start drawing up ideas on how she could make one of those "mecha-shift" weapons Ozma had told him about. Ozma had come from a far more advanced civilisation, but the problem was that he hadn't invented any of it and didn't understand it. He could tell them of Bullheads and "combustion engines" but there was no dust left to power them and he wouldn't have known how to build one of them even if there was.

"Why did I think being a mother would be easy?" asked Ruby, cupping her cheek. "I figured it'd just come naturally. Like having a baby in the first place."

Jaune placed his hand over hers and smiled warmly. "You're a wonderful mother, Ruby. Don't doubt that. And we always have Taiyang for advice."

"Dad's advice is as bad as Yang's," growled Ruby. "I won't have our daughter grow up to be a bandit. Seriously, though, I had it in my head for us to have loads of kids, but Summer really put a stop to that. Turns out the best way to avoid having children is to actually have one and realise how much hard work it is."

He laughed. "Come now. She's a great daughter."

"Oh, I know. I love her. I'm just quite happy loving only her, thank you very much." Ruby turned her hand upside down so her fingers linked with his, but her smile faded. "Do you really think Salem might come after our family?"

"Honestly, no. I think she'll do a lot of stuff in the background to make our lives harder or to destabilise our efforts with Vacuo and Vale, but I don't think she'll want to risk a direct confrontation with us. I'm still here, along with Ozma, and she isn't strong enough to face us."

"Thank goodness. This peace… It's wonderful, but I feel so guilty knowing it won't last for those who come after us. We did a lot to earn this, and we deserve it, but it feels like we're betraying them every time we take a day off for ourselves."

He felt the same way, and it had taken others to step in and pry him away from his desk. To remind him that he had a wife and daughter who missed him, and that he couldn't do much for the world if he passed out every night. If it were a thousand years then he could sit back and say the loss of his fifty or sixty wasn't so much, but it wasn't. There was so little time to prepare the world, and it would be Summer's children who faced it.

Eighty-five years left meant it was very unlikely Summer would live to see the monsters to come, but there was a chance. Beyond that, it would be others who faced her. Everyone was busy preparing. Everyone. Weiss and Whitley were rebuilding Atlas; Ren and Nora were preparing Mistral; Pyrrha had travelled to Vale to support Coco in forming the academy there; Vacuo…

Vacuo was a mess, but they'd catch up or they would be devoured. They couldn't afford to waste time pandering to them when Salem was out there, actively planning her return. The kingdoms that were prepared to be ready, had to be made ready. And Menagerie would stand as the greatest stronghold of all.

War would come, and Remnant would be ready for it.

But that was not now, and he'd come to understand that there had to be moments outside of it.

The world would keep for now.

Remnant would survive if he took a little time for himself.

Jaune rose, drawing Ruby with him and into his chest. His wife's silver eyes looked lovingly up at his, but also a little flirtatiously. It had been several days since she and Summer went out, and they were both looking forward to a reunion.

Magic had its purposes beyond the battlefield and the nursery, too. Ruby gasped as his magic overpowered her, pinned her hands behind her back and swept her feet off the floor. She floated up and then fell as slowly as a feather, falling into his arms.

"And what—" she asked, with sparkling eyes, "—is the Dark Lord intending to do with his new hostage?"

"Something truly despicable," he whispered back, carrying her to the bedroom. "I don't think you're going to be leaving your bed anytime tomorrow. You might not have the energy to get up at all once I'm through with you."

"Talk is cheap, mister."

"Then let me show you."

I'm not super thrilled with how this story went. Felt a little too formulaic for my liking. I understand that is literally my fault, lol, but it is what it is. I probably should have embraced the AU more and just deviated from canon lore on Salem's immortality to take her in a different way. It's always easy to say that after the fact, however. Hindsight and all that. Much harder when you're writing it on a Sunday and have little time to do so.

I actually don't have another story in store (since my two Tuesday stories were both new recently) and will need to come up with one. Luckily, I'll have the xmas break to do so. That means no update next Sunday as per usual, and then it's my Christmas break.

However, from 7th Jan onwards it'll be Remnant's Blonde Bard every Sunday. You'll still get a chapter of Remnant's Blonde Bard this coming Tuesday as well.

Next Story: Tuesday 9th January

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