Sorry for the long wait. Whoever said college was easy deserves to be thrown into a fire.

To my many reviews.

Proiu, Poisonpen37, Messey Mark, Cessnose, Scaresse, Porsvasse randomperson, Echocolent, Neema Amiry, Silver III Jhin Guest, animeandgamerlover2, guestman52, Guest2, dracdrako, Guest 3, Guest 4, Guest5, Guest 6, Guest 7, Guest 8, Redpod Jelly Beans, andod, Guest 9, madman020, Guest 10, Guest 11, khoashex, Guest12, nathen, Geust 13, Guest 14, Jayconnormce, yernanm8, and delgrave.: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy my new chapter.

VGblackwing: Here's the thing I think about Pyhrra's semblance though. I think she can control nearly everything that is metal, to a point.

Tsun: To be fair, emo Jaune is a tiny bit more interesting than regular Jaune. I mean, all he did in the recent season was be a crossing guard.

Evinco: Can you imagine. The person would question their existence and nearly go psychotic. Scary shit man.

Lyagon: Oh, I was already planning it.

N3beerus: Yeah, don't worry about that. I kinda just realized how hard it was to write someone like Jaune.

Mr. Malfunction: I am trying to fix that. Thankfully I am taking a few writing classes in college.

MarcusMebadd: Thanks. I am trying, it's just hard sometimes to keep consistency. But don't worry. I am learning as I go along further in my story. Thank you though.

Young1iv: Ven, not sure if it's personal bias, but Ven. My first Souls game was Bloodborne so, yeah.

LockeBelmont: That he will be my friend. And that is the best part about adding these two different stories together. Just them reacting to the weirdest, or to others, normal things.

Je'daii2298 :I am not sure if I made this clear, but the one doing the blackmailing is Ozpin.

Raven Armata: True, but that would take a long ass time. It's easier to prepare a sane person for insanity than an insane person to sanity.

The Baz: While that is interesting, I am thinking of something more to my own creation.

Noble: Well you will have to wait and see what will happen now won't you?

Boopstree: The problem with that is, Blake doesn't have any experience with humans. All she really has is the stories and what the White Fangs actions do to people. When the White Fang kills more people, they make more humans angry at Faunus making them hate attacking more faunus which restarts everything. All she sees are the consequences of the White Fangs actions and instead believe that they are done in by cruel and racist humans.

But I can also see Ven being wrong though to. He only has what he has seen. In that way ,Ven is like an Unreliable narrator. But, doesn't mean he isn't wrong also. Thank you for the review. I loved your insight into my dynamic and hope for more.

Lokyloco: Well who knows, there might be something that survived on that ship?

Student: That I was going for. Mors and Venatores for that matter are like bosses from their own games fighting new noobs. And don't worry, Ven's way of fighting is both physical and phycological. (Insert Evil Laugh of Maddness.)

SilkDreamWeaver: Don't worry, I'm trying to fix that. But who knows that Relic maybe very hard to obtain.

Ice Cream of the gods: Mors: WHAT IN ANOR LONDO IS A DOLLAR?

Anagennsi: (Listens to it.) God that is terrifying. And I hope I can do it as well. Who knows maybe next I'll inspire you to write something. The greatest honor a writer could receive.

Snake Main 69: I try. But thank you for what you've told me about Ozpin and Blake. I had always felt that Blake didn't get chastised enough for doing most of the stuff she did. And, I noticed that despite wishing for equality does what she does in my Story. And I will definitely uphold the PTSD of one Yang Xiao Long and maybe make even Penny react to the place that she died at.

Seriously, go to the episode where Team RWBY and JNPR become Huntsman and Huntresses. That is the place she died at, but Penny doesn't even bat an eye at it. I get she's a robot, but she's also based off of Pinnochio, an inanimate object that gains a human soul. You'd think there'd be a reaction.

Finally my characters. I agree that from a glimpse of my story, Ven is more Three dimensional. But like you, and hopefully most of my readers, you begin to understand that I've kept Mors history, shrouded in mystery. But, one must wonder for what purpose.

Thank you for the enjoyable review. I hope you enjoy my latest chapter with your new favorite character in it.

Boshwa: Maybe not Patches, but definetly the stupid deaths. And I am glad my story is getting such recognition. I was originally planning just Bloodborne, but then the idea of my Sun Filled Knight came to my head and I couldn't help but add him!

Skeletal Phoneix: They are similar to gods in the world of men. The only thing I can think that would give them a True challenge are the Maidens and most powerful Grimm.

MetalBatt: You seem to be a very enthusiastic person. Can't help but admire that. Also, BURIAL BLADE gang. God I love that Trick Weapon.

I am still confused on what a chad is. I've heard it thrown around, but I am assuming it is the pinnacle of a man?

I always hear that about Ven. Maybe it's because I know more about him than most of my readers, but I think of him as a big teddy bear that doesn't take shit.

Definitely not. We passed Sesame Street and entered Yharnam.

Like I said, a guy who doesn't take shit.

The odds are just that Mors victory hangs on the object that he was given. But I thank you for what you have told me. I hope to keep you entertained for as long as I possibly can.

Now then, the moment you waited for.

TO BATTLE!

Chapter 15

A True Knight

Jaune

Anything that I could have assumed from Mor's attack was promptly launched out the window. Panic was already filling up every vein of my body, something that made me freeze right there. The heat of the desert was no longer a problem, nor the fact that one of my strongest teammates was thrown by the goliath that was Mors Ignis.

It was instead the fact that after saying those few words, he already appeared before me, greatsword in hand. The large chunk of metal in the air ready to fall onto my head and split me in two all in the same motion.

Sadly, all I could do was stare in shock and horror. Thankfully my partner was there to pull me out of the way of the large sword. With a shockingly strong push I was out of the way of the sword path. The only impact being my armor against the thick glass that Mors had created within the desert.

I quickly rolled to the side, knowing fully well how Mors like to capitalize on downed opponents. Part of me still wondered if the bruises from all of his kicks would remain permanent or not.

Before even making a full roll I had the instant satisfaction of being right, as an armored leg suddenly smacked down onto the piece of glass beside me. The sharp sound of a loud crack filling the air, possibly from the glass that he smashed beneath his feet. I could feel the pieces of glass hit my back, each of them the size of large rocks, thankfully being blocked by my aura.

Before I even realized it, I was on my feet facing Mors with my shield forwards, just in case of another swipe from him.

Thankfully, he was occupied with my partner at the moment. Each of them trading blow for blow with equal parts finesse and equal parts raw strength. Pyrrha was barely able to push Mors' sword to the side from each of the blows. Her sword deflecting off of his armor after every blow not even denting from the strikes, protecting him from any real damage. Meanwhile, each of Mor's blows only ever met her shield, the circular piece of metal, letting out a loud explosion of sound. As if the shield was hit with a small cannon shot each time.

Even from this distance, I could feel the pain that she was enduring, How unexpectedly dense and precise each blow was. If it wasn't for aura, her arms would have probably snapped from the pressure alone.

Despite that, I didn't move in to help her. After all, as sad it was to say, I would have only gotten in the way of the fight.

Instead, I charged behind Mors. My sword ready to stab into his side with hopefully little to no resistance.

Even now I could hear the chiding in the back of my mind. This isn't honorable, this is what criminals and cowards do in a fight. But I had no time to think about it, I didn't even have the right to think about it.

In a battle, honor doesn't really mean anything. Mors acts like an honorable knight but everytime he trained me, anything went. Grappling, kicking me while I'm down, and punching him at random intervals.

He didn't mind it however, if anything he was happy about it. He was learning far more about fighting than he ever did fighting Cardin or anyone else in Professor Goodwitch's class.

Sadly, that still didn't mean he had any chance of standing up to Mors Ignis.

Especially as my stab was deflected by his arm, nearly sending the blade rocketing out of my hands. I barely managed to even hold onto it, my shield automatically being placed where I knew the strike would come from.

All it took was a single wide swing from Mors, who still had his focus on Pyrrha, to send me sliding in the opposite direction. Nearly falling onto myself with how fast that strike came. The shield in my hands making a sound similar to a gong.

Right, he wasn't using my sword. He was using his own, a large piece of steel taller than me and twice as heavy. No way in hell was a shield as small as this gonna keep the sword at bay.

Then it was right back to the battle between both of my trainers. Each of them too focused on the other to even care about my small disturbance.

"You okay?" A voice at my side spoke, one that I very rarely heard even in our own room. Even more surprising was the amount of emotion in said voice. Not that Ren's usually a cold person, just that he often didn't voice his emotions well.

I didn't turn to him however, focusing still on the sword fight in front of me between Mors and Pyrrha.

"I'm fine." I told him, my voice a little harsher sounding than I wanted it to, the still present frustration of not being able to do anything very substantial. "But Pyrrha's barely holding on out there."

Even now, despite being far away, I can see the strain on her face. Each of the blows he was giving out were like trucks hitting her in the side. Even with Aura, she wouldn't last long if we didn't do something.

"What do you want to do?" Ren asked, as I turned toward him. Both of his pistol knives in his hands ready to fire at any moment. His eyes fixated on the battle between the two champions. "He won't let us any closer and my bullets aren't strong enough to be more than a nuisance to him."

That was true. Even without Mor's aura the bullets would have to get past the armor on him. And considering he was taking blows from Pyrrha seemingly without any damage, I doubt dust crystals as small as peas would even dent it.

Thankfully, there were two people here who did have the necessary firepower to harm him. There were two problems with that plan though. One of the people was our best fighter while the other person only had grenades. Though for some reason there was something itching at the back of m-!

Where's Nora?

"R-ren is Nor-"

"She's fine." He spoke with absolute certainty, focusing still on the two people currently fighting. "Just give her a few seconds."

"Banzai!"

I could only turn and watch as Nora Valkyrie soared through the air, straight at Mor's blindspot. She was riding on her hammer like she usually does when she wants to rush her opponent quickly. I watched as she wound up in the air, ready to knock him off balance, giving Pyrrha the chance to follow up with her own strike.

Seeing this, Pyrrha pushed her shield forward, getting ready to block any attack that Mor's may use against her. I could even see her dig her heels into the glass, giving her even more support against any attacks.

Yet, as I watched my friends get ready for a pincer attack on my mentor, I could only feel a sense of dread.

One that was proven to be more than just a feeling.

Without a second thought, as if it was instinct for the incredibly strong knight, he raised his left foot, kicking the shield with all of his might.

The glass under Pyrrha's heels shattered under the weight of the blow, as she was launched into one of the nearby sand dunes. Then, without even looking, he turned ever-so-slightly with his left arm up, receiving Nora's attack with his forearm. The clash of the metal hammer and the armor echoed throughout the desert, as Mors' arm didn't even budge from the attack.

I saw Nora's eyes widen in shock, as her attack barely did anything against the larger and stronger Mors, even as the glass below him cracked. That cost her precious time though, as Mors simply grabbed the neck of her hammer, and pushed her back.

The push was strong enough to send her a good ten feet back, almost making her fall back, if it wasn't for her quick hand-spring, letting her right herself on the glass field. Despite that, Nora could only look at Mors, shocked as she was no doubt reminded of the amount of strength he held.

Mors fully turned, facing the energetic hammer wielder, putting his full attention on her, as he readied his weapon. It was odd, seeing him wield such a large weapon one handed, and even stranger that he seemed to forget his other opponent as he did.

Right on cue, Pyrrha ran up from within the sand dune, as if she were waiting for her opportunity to strike. Running up, she transformed her sword Miló into it's rifle form, taking easy potshots at the distracted knight, as she pulled the trigger five times, aiming for her opponent. The shots soared through the air, sailing towards her armored foe in an attempt to damage his Aura.

That wasn't all though, as she jumped over the knight in a combined effort to attack him, and end up back on our side in an attempt to help defend us. She fired behind his head, before jumping off her shield in mid-air, as it immediately followed her as soon as she landed, facing Mors with us behind her. All this had happened in the span of a few seconds, as my team could only watch as the bullets struck Mors.

But the pit in my stomach, and no doubt my team's, only grew.

As soon as the bullets struck Mors, they exploded, damaging the knight in full armor. Or at least, it should have…

Instead, he simply stood there as if nothing had happened, not even flinching as the bullets struck his back. The bullets didn't do anything, he didn't even move a muscle, as he simply took the hit. It was only when one of the bullets struck the back of his head, did he finally move.

His head bowed down, as if a child had accidentally hit it with a ball, and not a highly volatile bullet charged with the power of one's soul.

My team and I could only stare, wide-eyed at what had just occurred. Even I, who trained with the knight in front of me could, could feel my jaw drop.

Only to immediately feel it tighten, as we all took a step back…

Yhorm The Giant ~ Dark Souls 3 ~ OST

As he raised his head, a new intensity behind his helm that they had never felt before. It took only a moment to realize that while the bullet didn't hurt him…

It certainly annoyed the knight.

"Now that's just not fair." Nora said at my side, staring at the knight, changing her Magnhild into her powerful grenade launcher. She fired off two shots at the armored knight, but unlike bullets fired from Prryha's Miló, he dodged these two by simply rolling to the side. As soon as he was up on his feet, the usually joyful knight rushed forward, his large sword on his shoulder and fire at the tips of his fingers.

Seeing this, Ren began to pepper the knight with Stormflower's automatic fire as Mor's ran up to them. This was a waste of bullets though, as the knight simply rushed through them, as if they were nothing but leaves in his way. Right in front of us, the large knight spun in place, bringing his sword with him for what looked to be a powerful blow.

Prryha readied her defences, but I knew that her defence alone wasn't enough to absorb mostorusly strong knight's blow. Knowing this, I rushed beside her, putting up my own shield to absorb at least half of the incoming damage.

Surprisingly, we had managed to block the entire blow, as I felt Pyrrha and I get pushed back, weapons still at the ready. Seeing him open, my partner changed her weapon into her javelin, stabbing precisely into one of the openings of his armor. As she did that, I scanned the entirety of his person, hoping to find our objective on him.

Wherever he hid it though, it was hidden well, as I couldn't even begin to grasp where it would've been on his person. Though, something itched at the back of my mind, as something seemed strange about Mor's. What it was, I couldn't tell, as I had only seen his armor once about a month ago, and nothing about his armor seemed different.

It didn't matter though, as I watched as the incredibly heavy sword sailed back towards Pyrrha, who's javalein was stuck inside of the Knights armor. With no way to block the attack she was vulnerable, as I watched her argue within her mind whether or not to let go of her weapon. She didn't have enough time to decide though, as I jumped in front of the swing protecting my partner from the powerful blow.

I kinda wished I hadn't though, as I felt the pure strength behind his attack almost bend my shield inward. If it weren't for my Aura, it just might've to, as Pyrrha and I were launched backwards from the attack, forcefully pulling Milo out of the crevice of his armor.

Once again, my back hit the desert sand below. Though, at least this time, my partner decided to follow me. A small dust of sand launching out from under us. The sounds of a continued battle still raging on without us.

How was this already so difficult!

Before I could even do a single movement, Phyrra's shield was already in front of me ready to block any incoming strike from the rampaging goliath. Even with its small size, it covered both of us rather well.

Despite that, she was already panting. Each of her breathes violent and unfocused, nothing like the way she breathed in any of our practices boughts.

Maybe today the queen will lose her crown.

I quickly shake those thoughts out of my head, getting up and joining her with my shield raised. Running up towards the behemoth of a man before me with as much courage as I could muster.

Even if it did mean watching Ren fly past me while I did so, looking more like a rag doll than an actual person.

Nora was at least still beside Mors, narrowly dodging each of his blows with her usual bombastic attitude. Despite that, the giant of a man merely shrugged off most of the blows. Each of his arms strong enough to act like a fortress wall. Even now he barely moved an inch, as if an overgrown child was trying to attack him to no avail.

But none of that mattered right now, all that mattered was to find the relic. It was the only real way to win the fight.

A simple swipe to the left sent the powerful woman sliding towards a different direction, the strong gaze of Mors Ignis now focused entirely on me. His sword was already high up in the air, ready to come down like a strong cannon.

I lifted my shield up in time moving a tiny bit to the left, the large sword merely grazing off of my shield as I stabbed forward. The scratching of metal on metal loud and overpowering within my ears. Hoping to at least get through the thick armor that surrounded him.

All I heard was a clang of metal, and I knew that I had failed.

The large heap of metal then crashed down beside my foot. The large blade was already coming up to attack me without any time to even block.

The fear built up inside me even more. Just the mere sight of the blade that close to me made me sweat more that the desert possibly could have. But I held it back, my arm moving my thin shield over to the thick greatsword coming for my neck.

But the blow never came, stopping just a mere inch from my shield. My eyes widened seeing that, as my instinctively looked to the upper right. Just from muscle memory alone, I knew what was coming.

The boulder sized fist, one that was now making its way to the side of my head.

I stared like a deer in the headlights at the fist that was coming for me, aimed directly for my temple. I tried to move something, anything to block what might as well be a sure kill blow. Yet, the second I tried, I knew that nothing would be able to move fast enough to defend against such a blow.

The fear of being hit by such a blow filled my mind and body, as I felt my hands shake at the mere thought of what would after I was struck.

It was too late to think about such things though, as the fist struck my Aura, a flash of pure white light making itself known. A muffled gasp of pain ringing in my ears, as my own was silent and unheard.

And from the brief flash, came something that I didn't expect, even as I was launched across the glass floor. My Aura no doubt at its weakest, as pain spread throughout my body with my head filled with stars. I was lucky though, as I landed in the soft but hot sand, as it absorbed the force of my body impacting against it. Yet, despite the searing pain and my fuzzy brain…

I was… fine?

I tried to stand myself up with little success, as I watched my partner run towards, no doubt worried about my safety and regrouping with me. I brought a hand to my head, feeling a bruised beginning to form on my head, but other than that…

I was fine.

I looked at my opponent across from me, the giant knight who seemed no worse for wear, even when he fought against four opponents…

As he shook his left hand free of pain, as if he had just punched a solid plate of steel with his bare hands.

I stared, shocked at the fact that the knight had been hurt just by striking me. What had happened, what did I just do, how did I do that? These thoughts filled my mind, and no doubt something similar was in the head of the knight.

But something else was in my head, something that itched at the base of my skull.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha shouted in worry, looking over the wound on my head with a critical eye trying to see if anything was wrong with just a glance. "Stay still. We need to get you out of here." She told me, supporting me by putting an arm around her neck and helping me stand. She moved me away, as Ren and Nora began to fight the large blade wielding knight, distracting him as we made an attempt at retreat.

But I would have none of that.

"Pyrrha," My hand grabbing the side of her arm, as I stared at the concealed face of the knight. The eyes of my partner grow in a bit of shock, possibly noticing what I had noticed. But even then that was second in my mind.

It was small inkling, something that shouldn't have been present in the middle of the fight that I was in. But it came up, over and over again, especially after that gasp of pain.

Mors Ignis was being quiet, and the reason became clear the moment my aura flashed like a bright light. A golden and black object held in the one place that few people would think of from the majestic knight.

"It's in his mouth."

The only response I received from that was a widening of my partners emerald eyes, before she turned back to the armored giant. Watching my other teammates continue to fight the seemingly invincible Mors Ignis.

The cowl upon his head, even in the powerful light of the sun, was covering the entirety of his face . Even with the glass and flashes of light from the two members of my team his face was unseen. A perfect place to hide something as important as an instant win item.

With that proclamation out, I shakely stood up on my feet. My hand still on my focused partner so that I could remain upright. I guess the adrenaline spike was starting to wear off. But in the end that didn't matter.

"How much Aura do you have left?" I asked my partner, barely making out the exchange of blows between Mors, Ren and Nora. Each of their moves were so fast and complex that it was almost dizzying to even look at.

"Don't worry about me," The red haired girl spoke, looking forward as she put her sword and shield on her back. The focus she exuded like a pointed spear. "Just get that relic."

All I could do was nod at her words, my attention as focused on Mor's as her own.

This fight was going to end soon and it would happen with just a single word.

"Static!"

As soon as that one word came out of my mouth, I could already see it.

The large and excited smile of one Nora Valkyrie, as she pulled out the bright yellow Dust Crystal. Alongside the dark gray aura completely surrounding the hands of Pyhraa Nikos.

Static was a very simple plan but an effective plan that I had thought up only last night. One that I had told everyone the moment we had boarded the bullhead to get to this desert. The idea was simple and only existed for one reason.

For Nora to get just as strong as Mor's Ignis while weakening the Knight at the same time.

It was something that sounded impossible, but was a possibility that would be two simple things.

The power of the two semblances on our Team.

With the grin of excitement still on her face, Nora began to crush the yellow crystal. Sparks from the electric energy trapped within it striking the hammer wielding warrior. The grin on her face seemed to grow even wider at that.

As the energy of a dust crystal big enough to power a large car entered her Semblance.

Of course, this was the moment that Mors would come and stop whatever his opponent was doing with a single swipe of his greatsword.

If it wasn't for the amount of weight he was suddenly gaining with the help of my partners own Semblance. A semblance that forced every piece of metal he had on him, including his sword, to weigh nearly twice as much as it usually did.

All I heard was the sudden sharp intake of air, before Mors buckled. The weight forcing his entire body downwards, his knees nearly touching the ground below him. Even his sword, something that he effortly lifted with one hand, crashed into sand and glass. The glass promptly exploded underneath the giant the shards nearly hitting me despite the fair distance I was away from him.

I now knew my plan would work, and so did everyone on my team.

With that, only a small piece of hesitation by my side, I moved forward. Sprinting to the giant now weighed down by one of the things that he could rely on protecting him.

Even Nora and Ren ran forward, almost at the same time as I had. As if a unheard sound forced us to move towards the finally open knight in hopes of getting the relic. Or, at the very least, getting a good hit in.

Though, knowing Nora, that was all that she was really aiming for.

"Smash!" Speaking of my hammer wielding teammate, she was already ready to hit Mors Ignis with everything she had. Moving as fast as one Ruby Rose, a smile fully on her face.

Then, with a gusto that couldn't be matched by anyone in the world, she plunged her hammers head down to the exposed back of the enemy. The little jet at the end of her hammer going full blast, bring the hammer down even faster than it should have been.

Then, with a strike that might as well have been from a cannon, a loud ring ran out through the entire desert. I faltered in my steps with how loud the sound was, even after it had passed my ears still rang from it.

All I could see was the sand thrown up from that incredible strike. Each of the particles blocking any and all view of the aftermath of what had happened. But the hope that I had felt that it was the blow had injured him, or better yet, knocked him out.

It was cruel to think about that, to wish someone that I called a friend to be knocked out by my fellow teammate. But only the thought that this had to be done kept me moving forward into the storm of sand in front of me. A storm that was quickly subsiding, leading all to see the results that had come along with plan Static.

A result that left me and everyone who saw it feel dread.

For instead of the mighty knight laying on the ground, his consciousness gone from his body allowing us to take what we needed to win the battle. Or just a simple sign of at least something broken or harmed to give us the smallest piece of hope.

No. The result was the same as everything we had done until now.

Nothing.

The knights knees weren't even touching the ground. They were hovering off of it, barely an inch from the sand under the glass that he had created before the battle began. The hammers head on the square of his back, the armor looking as peerless as ever. The leather over the chainmail looking as peerless as it did before.

The only thing that changed was the expression on Nora's face. The bright smile that she brought with her now tarnished by something that I never thought that I would see on her.

Fear.

It looked alien to her. It changed her, making her look different. Not in a good way either. It made her look younger, weaker something that I never thought I would see from her. But the worst thing was…

She didn't move. Not even as the knight rose before her, weapon falling at her side. Her hands now filled with so much terror that they let go of the only thing that could protect her.

The dull gray aura of Pyrrha was still present around everything he was wearing. His sword was already raised to his side with both of his hands. The thing that would be coming next is clear for nearly everyone to see.

I don't know how it happened, but my feet moved. One minute I was standing completely still, the fear of one of my teammates about to be taken out before me, while I just stood there. Next thing I know, I was in front of her with my shield. Both of my hands on it, ready to take any blow that was coming, hoping that I could do the one thing I had actually trained to do to save my friend.

My Aura was non-existent at this point, I didn't have to check my scroll to figure that out. But in the end, that didn't even matter.

All I could do was wait for the strike, preparing both of my arms. Each of them ready to launch up to turn the strike as far away from the both of us as possible.

But even still, there was no hesitation on Mor's part. His sword swung for the side of my head, without any hesitation. No doubt ready to strike at me with all the power that he could with that single blow.

But I remained there, anchored to the ground. My mind filled with only the words that littered my head.

"Within you, I see a promise no one yet sees." The first positive words that I had ever really heard about me.

I could do this. The sword growing closer and closer to the point that I needed it to.

"I believe in you." The words of a partner who had always believed in me.

I could do this! My shield raised up, ready to meet the blow of the powerful knight. If nothing else, I coul-

"There are enough people in the world, Jaune. People who can do it better than you ever will."

But dreams were never reality.

Could you?

Then everything faded to black.

Before I even realized it, I was awake. Small dots of light filling my vision, to the point where I couldn't even make out where I was. He even felt heavy, as if his entire body was made of thick iron. He felt as if he could barely even move his arms, let alone his head. A dull ache throbbing throughout his body, and something tight wrapped around his head.

The next thing that I realized was the bad taste in my mouth. Almost like he had swallowed a spoon, and bits of it still remained there. It encompassed everything, to the point that I wanted to throw up. At least the vomit would have left a better taste in my mouth.

The most I could manage was a quiet cough, which did nothing to rid the metal taste within my mouth. In fact, it seemed to make it worse. A small bit of liquid suddenly appeared at the corners of my mouth.

It was only then did I realize that it was blood.

Despite the pain in my arm, I lifted it quickly to my mouth . Giving another pathetic cough, hoping to force the liquid out of his mouth.

All that came out was clear saliva, nothing that would note there being blood of any kind. Yet it still laced my mouth in the taste of iron.

The dots were clearing up, letting him see different shapes other than them. It still didn't help much, as he could only see a clear white tile roof. One that appeared bland, even compared to something like his dorm ceiling.

His body obviously didn't want him to get up, but the fear of being in an unknown place was motivating him far more than his pain.

Just from the tiny moments from my stomach, I was already regretting my decision. It was like every moment caused him to get punched in the gut, repeatedly. Even his arms felt like someone was stabbing into his bicep, as he tried to push himself up from his resting position.

But I pressured through, my breath coming in grunts of pain. My arms and core feeling like jello… jello that stabbed you whenever you tried to make it jiggle.

I picked up my head however, looking around the new area I was in.

It was white. It was the only color he could perceive, even when the darkness of everything tried to make it look like a cool gray. Beds, most likely similar to his, lining against the walls in even spacing. Clean white sheets spread across them, as if waiting for someone to lay down on them. A large pole holding a clear bag of liquid was sitting right next to each of them.

Most likely, I was in a Hospital. Or, at least, the nurses office of Beacon Academy.

I brought a hand to my head, realizing the tightness around my head was a bandage. A very tight, and itchy bandage. I honestly just wanted to pull it off, right then and there.

Thankfully, a voice sounded out through the room. A familiar voice that stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Seems that you are awake." The voice was low and quiet, but it filled the entire room with its noise. A sharp pain filling my head, as if it was yelled right next to my ear.

I turned my head, coming face to face with probably the last person I wanted to see at the moment. His near golden eyes stabbing right into my very soul, as if making certain that I was alright.

Mors Ignis… who didn't even have a scratch on him from the battle.

The sharp pain went through my head once again, but this time filling it with memories of that so called battle that we had fought.

At least the bandage around my head made sense.

"We lost." I spoke up, my voice surprising myself. It sounded raspy, not by a lot, but to the point where I noticed, as if I hadn't used it in what felt like years. It was quiet even, barely reaching a whisper.

It was off putting, a voice that sounded like mine but was distinctly not mine filling the room, coming out of my mouth.

Thankfully I didn't have to repeat myself. The giant of a man merely nodded his head, looking at me straight in the eyes to the point where it was uncomfortable. He didn't even look like he was blinking.

The room stayed silent, neither of us daring to break the silence that was between us. Nothing even made a sound within the room, everything was just quiet.

I hated that. I hated it so much, the silence that left me only to my thoughts of how I lost against the man that was by my bedside.

"What happened?" I spoke up, my voice beginning to sound more like myself. Though, it was still strange and garbled.

Mors didn't even blink at the question.

"Sir Ren tried to immediately get to your side, while Miss Valkyrie and Nikos went to keep me distracted." He spoke up, never looking away from my eyes. It was almost scary how intently he was looking into them. Like he could see my very soul on a platter before him. "I merely fired another Great Fireorb at him, and he was defeated. Miss Valkyrie was next, as in a rage, she tried to overpower me. Her face quickly met the glass, knocking her out as I threw her at Miss Nikos. Distracted by her Teammate, I threw another Great Fireorb at her. Quickly followed by quick skirmish before my blade cut through her aura. She forfeited shortly after, seeing no way to continue on, and wanting to get the three of you to treatment as soon as possible. Especially you, since you were bleeding out quite a bit onto the glass."

Great… Even now, I could only imagine that Phyrra felt that she betrayed me. The coldness of it all filling my body, no heat allowing to be

"So not only did we fail, we failed by a forfeit." I spoke up, my tone filled with defeat. My hand making its way to my head. Grabbing at the side of my head, my hand filling my hair in a form of frustration.

"Just because you forfeited, doesn't mean you are going to fail." Mors continued, his expression growing just a little softer. A small smile growing on his face, one filled with either sadness or happiness. Something that made me think he was mocking me, despite my better judgment. "You all did exceptionally well. And assessing the situation as she did will no doubt score Lady Nikos some points in your favor."

"We still lost." I spoke up turning my head to him, despite the stiffness in my neck. The expression on my face feeling loose, as if I wasn't capable of smiling at the moment. Though, I wasn't sure if it had to do with the greatest loss of my life, or the blow to the head.

"You still did far better than expected." His face growing a bit of a real smile, still trying to cheer me up over the loss. I couldn't blame him though, he didn't know what was at stake for me. The statement did cause my brow to raise.

"And what did you expect?" I asked, not really expecting an answer from the goliath before me. After all, it was obvious that he thought we would lose in the shortest amount of time possible. He was the best of the first years here, how could he not have expected that.

To my shock, he did answer.

"For you and your team to pass out from the heat and lack of water before you found me," He spoke up, looking at the ceiling in thought while he did so. His leg absentmindedly crossing over the other. "or be so delirious that you couldn't even hold a sword, let alone face me in combat."

I looked at him, quickly noticing that my eyebrows had risen in a mute form of shock. I always forget how intelligent Mors seemed to be.

It was nothing against him of course, but with his usual batch of cluelessness… well, it didn't leave a knowledgeable impression on the mind of others.

It did fill my confidence up a bit more though, after all, against any other opponent that might have just happened. Instead, we got the chance to fight him before that even happened.

"I guess that's why you chose the desert." I spoke up, a small dry chuckle escaping from my lungs. Though, there still wasn't a bit of humor in it. The laugh was just as hollow as Mors smile earlier.

"Indeed." He spoke up a laugh escaping him as well, but this on filled with a bit more amusement. For some reason, that laugh made me sick. Like someone was laughing at my failures behind my back.

Once again, that thought from days before crept up on me. The thought of someone looking down on me, the thought of someone tricking me into believing I was something lesser.

"Were you even going to fight us seriously?" The words spilled from my mouth, a small black pit of hate flowing through them. Making each of the words I had spoken sound almost hurtful.

Once again, he didn't even blink. He didn't even flinch at my tone of voice, despite the hate that oozed out of it. Something that made my stomach form a pit, as he thought over his response.

"I took you all as serious as possible." He said, never once looking away from my eyes. The amount of sincerity in his voice shocking me. "That is why I chose the desert, as you would no doubt think I was giving your team an advantage by both telling you the location and have to fight with my body sinking into the sand. Thus giving me the advantage when I stabilized my footing, and ambushed you after you were all weak."

I thought he would have stopped there… but he finished with one final line towards me. A final line, that paved a path to my own self loathing.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of this defeat Sir Jaune, you should instead learn from it."

I didn't speak for a few seconds, processing the final words that he said. Each of them filling my blood with a dark shard of my anger, leaving my gratitude towards him behind.

How could he tell me such a thing… I wasn't going to learn anything from this fight. Nothing to prepare me for the fights ahead of me. How could it when this was the final fight… This was the fight that shaped my destiny, and destiny decided to throw me to the curb. Abandoning me to some lot to live a life that I didn't want to live.

Despite myself, I lashed out.

"What am I supposed to learn from this fight," I spoke up, my voice now as loud as a regular as someone talking. Which amounted to a scream as I was now. Even still, he didn't blink an eye, looking at me as if he expected this to happen. Something that only seemed to infuriate me more. "that I apparently suck far more than I thought I did!?"

His response was instant.

"Sir Jaune," He spoke up, his face set into a frown, a far cry from the smile he had a second ago. "You do not 'suck', as you put it. You created a fantastic plan with all you knew, and even prepared your team to brave the harsh desert sands. You were able to parry a man who easily lifted 500 pounds, which I understand to be quite an achievement. You fought wonderfully for a novice such as yourself, and have made strides in your training so quickly, that I feel vexed at how fast you absorb my lessons. This is the truth."

Everything was silent there. I could do nothing but look at him, the anger still fresh in my veins. Even after I had yelled at him, he still gave me only kind words. Even now, in my head, I would hate to see what could make the man before going into a fit of rage.

But there we sat, staring at each other for what felt like hours. No words between us, just the silent tension in the air.

But then it faded like mist, Mors returning to his usual nature a small smile on his face. Leaving me to be creeped out by the sudden change. It had always scared him, the sudden changes his emotions could take. He'd seen it every time they had a fight against each other. The look of pure focus, like a beast hunting a meal, change into a small smile filled with a sense of joy.

"Though," He spoke up, his hand reaching to his chin in a small amount of thought. "According to the words of a certain Hunter, I should always give you something you can improve on…."

Oh god, he was taking advice from Venatores. Just the thought of Mor's partner alone brought a shiver to my spine. The intensity of his stares, to the way he looked at you like a cold piece of meat.

It made the man feel like a Grimm, to be honest. Not that he would say that to his face, but he honestly did.

"Tell me, Sir Jaune…" My attention returned to Mors, as he spoke up. Looking at me with the same eyes he has looked at me through for the last few minutes. "Did you believe that you would win against me during the battle?"

"Yes," I spoke up instantly, Mors gaze still not leaving me. Somehow with even more intensity than there was before. Enough to the point that I had to look away, my mouth now feeling as if it was full of cotton. "I-I mean…"

Mors moved closer to me, his finger right in my line of sight. Pointing at me in a way that made me stop asking questions.

"That right there is why you lost." He spoke with his familiar firmness, the smile turning to a thin line. "You lost because you believed you would, thus making you fail. The same could be said for your teammates."

"Faith is a funny thing Sir Jaune…" Mors continued, a weight in his words that forced me to remain quiet. Each of his many words feeling as if it was filling the entire room. "not only does it lead one to a higher calling, it can also lead to your demise. I have fought a lot of creatures, most, quite literally, towering over me. Every time I thought, 'I am going to lose', that was the moment it happened. Each and every fatal strike was crafted the moment I could no longer believe in the best outcome."

"That is the most important lesson you should've learned today." He said, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at me like a commander did a common foot soldier. Trying to cheer him up so that he could only become better. "To have faith in thyself and thy teammates."

The only thing I could do was turn away, looking at the end of my bed in thought. Not even speaking, despite the obvious want to from Mors.

"I must go," Mors spoke up, as I remained looking down at my legs in thought. The sound of his chair scooting back as, from what I could understand, stood up. However, he continued voice echoing throughout the room. "The history exam is tomorrow after all. And, though I am rather good at fighting, my studies remain my weakest link." A small laugh also filling the room.

Nothing was going through my mind… I don't know how that was possible, but everything was just blank. I didn't know if it was from the final piece of advice Mors had given to me or something else entirely.

But the rage that I felt as I sat within this room, seemed to have only grown. But even now, I was starting to question if it was even rage at the man who defeated me this morning.

It was a fire that was completely trying to consume me, and me alone. Something so hot, that it was trying to bring the people closest to me with it as well.

It was only when I had started to open my mouth, did I understand what this thing could possibly be.

"How am I supposed to have faith…" I spoke quietly, the footsteps at my bedside stopping just as they were about to exit the room. Filling the room with even more silence.

Loathing. More specifically, self-loathing.

"Hm?" Mors hummed, possibly confused at what I had asked. Never really noticing that my question was of the rhetoric value. But I didn't care.

There was a man, the main cause for my having to leave the dream I had always wanted. He was standing right there and, despite how immature it sounded, how could I not just let it all out.

Besides, it wasn't as if I was going to see him again. When he graduates he'll be saving everyone in Vale, maybe even Mistral. He was that capable after all.

That piece of truth only served to make me angrier.

"What the hell even is faith!?" I screamed out, still quiet enough so that no nurse will just waltz in on me screaming. "Faith in what, that no one has faith in me!? That in every battle I'm a part of, my teammates, my friends get injured!?"

"What the hell am I supposed to have faith in, Myself?! The me that keeps failing in everything he does?! Friendships, grades, combat, and now even just taking advice?! How am I supposed to have faith, when everything about me is just second to worthless!?"

I didn't even look at Mors direction, trying to avoid his usual set of bland, but wise, looks. Looks that were designed to make me question whatever the hell I just said.

But I didn't want to question myself, I didn't want to feel better. I just… heh, I guess I didn't even know what I want.

"Even my own father doesn't believe in me, or my dreams…." I finished my voice now quiet, as I looked at my motionless feet. Gasping at the air that I had expelled for what felt like a minute straight.

God, I'm still just a child. Here I was, giving a temper tantrum to one of the few people who had tried to help me.

Even the very room around me seemed depressed. The white walls previously surrounding us looking colder and harsher than they did when I first laid eyes upon them. It made feel so much more… alone.

But alone was what I needed, what I deserved. I wasn't going to see any of them, not any time soon. Maybe even never… I had to get used to that.

"My father hated that I was training with a sword." A voice spoke up, the voice of a man who I thought would've left by now. But I didn't turn to him, I just kept my eyes focused on everything in front of me.

"Don't try to console me with this Mors." I spoke up, the sorrow in my voice seeping through into my voice. Not that I had really even cared. " Even you can't fix this."

A dry chuckle filled the room. One that made even my breath stop in its tracks. A chill being sent into the entirety of the room, as if it was surprised by the laugh Mors gave out. A laugh that was cold and deadly, everything that the man beside me wasn't.

"Really?" He spoke up, a sort of hollowness within his tone. The chuckle still escaping from his lips in a quiet manner. Yet, it echoed across the room as if it was an explosion. "Too afraid to hear what I have to say, or do you really have so little faith in me."

"My crisis isn't something you can just laugh a-" I tried to speak up, my voice filled with a form of fear that I didn't expect.

But I had to stop at what he said next. Something that made me stop all of my thoughts, as the room went quiet. Nothing moved, not even the very air made a noise. It was as if all sound stopped to hear what Mors had said.

"He tried to cripple me in my sleep."

I was stunned. I couldn't speak, let alone breathe while I turned my head to him. His expression filled with a form of sadness that I could barely comprehend. He merely stared at one of his hands, which caused me to stare as well. While I absently noticed him begin to take off the gloves he usually wore when he was in school. In fact, I had never seen his hands uncovered, as my eyes stuck to his left hand, slowly being revealed to me.

What I saw left me shocked even more.

It was a horizontal scar. A deep valley that went to thumb to the very edge of his pinky, one so deep that it looked as if it cut into bone. The scars that surrounded it making his hand look as if there were two mountains. I swore that I could even see the bone that was at the bottom.

It was huge, and I was certain that it would be impossible to even move the hand without some form of pain.

"He succeeded." He spoke up, looking at his hand with a morbid fascination. Opening and closing it as if it wasn't an impossibility. Even I had questions about the deep scar, ones that I couldn't find answers for, as he continued on with his tale. "I found out the next morning that he drugged my soup with a powerful sleeping drought. I didn't realize until it was all too late."

"The reason why I could only teach you how to do the perfect parry, was because that was the only Shield technique I learned and perfected before I lost all motion in my left hand." He spoke up, never looking away from his hand while he did so. A rare show of anger on his face, one that was heavy and seemed to make his face age by the second. "Of course, I can only move it now due to a man assisting me with healing it, but that is a story for another time."

He then turned to me, his eyes softening as he looked at me. The darkness of his anger dropping a little as he did so. But it was still there, I could practically see it wafting off of him like a thin smoke. I could barely breathe due to the pressure he was giving out.

"When I found out, I was outraged. How could my own father do this to me? How could he even think of doing such a thing."

"I confronted him about it," His voice a hollow sound, lacking almost any emotion, something that only made the anger in his eyes seem darker. "and he told me exactly why he did it. He wanted me to avoid fighting, avoid helping a country keep the status quo and dying a so-called 'noble death' in the name of duty and honor. He instead wanted me to work to make the country change and prosper, and for me to bring him into the upper echelon of society. "

"In short, he wanted me to be…" He stopped half way through looking away in complete disgust, he was even shaking a tiny bit. Though he turned his gaze back to me, a scowl promenet on his face. "A politician. The exact opposite of what I wanted to be, and worse, a man who sent children to die on the battlefield for profit and wealth."

I could barely process what he had spoken, hell I couldn't believe it. What kind of father would do that to their own son. True, my father told me to give up on my dreams, but he didn't cut my hand so I wouldn't pursue it. Or pick a job for me that was solely beneficial to him and him alone.

I wanted to say something comforting, anything at all.

But my brain, in all of it's shock, could only come up with. "H-he crippled you…"

Mors smiled hollowly at that, a small laugh filling the now quiet room. His eyes returning to his crippled hand as the smile returned to the scowl.

" 'You only need one hand to write a signature', he told me." A voice filled with outrage, the scowl growing deeper and colder as he continued. "He even had the gall to tell me that it may, 'Give me an edge if I spun the story correctly.'"

All I could do was stare at the man by my bedside, as he kept staring at his hand. I tried to empathize with him, to understand how he could possibly be feeling. Yet, everything I tried to imagine came up short, as the knight continued on.

"After that, he hired private tutors to keep me in the house, and away from both the guild and the healers to keep from training and healing my injuries. It wasn't long before this became permanent though, so it made the tutor's jobs a little easier, to my dismay."

"Those lessons could be considered hell compared to the ones we have in class, and with teachers more boring than Professor Port. Hours of learning what the smallest twitch could reveal about a person, what words should be spoken, and how to make them sound as influential and awe-inspiring as possible."

He gripped his hand, a sudden cracking of bone echoing out through the entire room, as if he had broken his own hand by gripping too hard. "It was an absolute nightmare, and was no doubt one of the worst times in my life."

"Even now, I still speak as if I was some pompous asshole, trying to woo a woman into his bed." Mors spoke simply, grabbing at his throat in what seemed to be an attempt to stop his way of speaking. "My Father made certain that I would always speak like this, or else he would add time to those torturous lessons. Eventually, it became second nature, and I could never quite shake this habit." He laughed bitterly, putting his hand down and simply staring at me, the dark look in his eye present and gazing into my own.

"Still, when he wasn't looking, I trained myself to become a knight that I would be proud of and… that the Kingdoms could be proud of." Mors continued, a hint of his previous happiness making its way back into his voice. "My Mother, bless her soul, often helped me sneak out of the house to help me with 'free time'. Of course, she didn't know that my injury was from my Father, as she was visiting her parents, my grandparents, on their deathbed. Rather, she thought it was from some back alley thief, trying to steal my possessions, and that such an injury destroyed my dreams of becoming a knight. That is what my Father told her, of course, and I was forced to play along to that putrid lie."

"He told me that if I ever told her that truth, that he would make sure to have another story to sell to the people. And, even then, my mother was truly in love with the image my father constantly kept up." Mors turned his head to the window, looking out at the broken bits of the moon floating within the emptiness. His gaze filled with a vacantness that I was still unused to. A hand grabbing the bar by my hospital bed. "Who was I to ruin such a longing with horror stories about crippling children, and a deceit filled household? Though, in truth, I feared what may happen if she couldn't handle my words, or worse, if she would even believe them. "

"Yet, despite the hours of training into the night, and the months of nights with barely a full hour of peaceful sleep, all I had gained was harsh words from my father, and a near waste of an education that could have benefited many children. Though, what could one expect from a 13-year-old trying to start over from scratch, with a crippled hand and barely any rest?" A small hollow laugh echoing from his mouth, yet barely anything else moved. His gaze solely focused on the horizon, not even looking in my direction. Though, I couldn't blame him. I wouldn't want to tell someone else about what must have been the worst moment of my life. "It was starting to become so terrible that my mind was actually believing that I had learned to sleep with my eyes open and write notes in my dreams."

For a short while he kept staring forward, his eyes still set towards the window. For the longest while he didn't move or speak, just staying still. He looked like a statue over my bed, watching eternally but not perceiving anything.

I had almost thought him dead, he barely even looked like he was breathing. But, a moment later he shook his head, his crippled hand reaching to the side of his head.

"Sometime later," He continued, as if he hadn't just stared outside the window for a long period of time. "the faith of finding something better was starting to run dry. With no means of feeding it, it began to wither away like a ghost in the light. That is before…

"It finally died." The way he spoke those words were off putting. I didn't even have to look at his face to hear and understand the pure fury and anguish he must have suffered at that point.

But the way he said, made it feel all the more real. Everything about it sounded could only mean he had spoken the truth, almost like he had actually died that day. Or something even worse than that, somehow.

"I had resigned myself to my fate of becoming a dark being known simply as the politician. I dropped the large stick from my only working hand, and returned home, downtrodden and exhausted."

"I thought my night would be spent tossing and turning, my dreams filled with Nightmares of the days to come." Mors spoke, his hand still placed on the table at my bedside. Cracking filling the entire room, as he continued with his story. His voice holding a rage that he had kept bottled up throughout our entire conversation "I thought wrong. Rather, it was the best night's rest I had in months, and I was refreshed and awake for the first time in what felt like years. It was like a reward for abandoning all hope, and simply following the path that was laid out for me. It was absolutely… I don't even have words for such a thing!"

A loud crack, almost akin to an explosion sounded off in the room, which nearly caused me to jump in fear despite the injuries. I looked everywhere for the source of the sound, my eyes falling on the wooden bedside table.

Or, what it used to be.

A large chunk of it was within his hands, but even then it was slowly changing into raw saw dust. Each of the particles slowly shifting out of his hands and reaching the floor. The remnants of the desk were now leaning against my bedside, which was truthfully the only thing keeping it up.

"With no faith in myself, or anyone helping me, my world became dark and cold." He spoke, brushing the newly made saw dust from his head. Ignoring the stares of concern and slight horror I was sending his way. Strange how he was the one trying to help me, but I was more concerned for him. "For a long time, I had faith in no one or anything, and simply became a creature of habit."

"But," He continued, his back still turned towards me not allowing me to see any of the expressions that he created. Thought, I was unsure if that was better or worse. "with no faith in myself, I quickly began to learn all that was left was disgust in my own actions. No pride, no joy, not even a moment's relief from this slimy feeling that filled my veins."

"I simply hated my life, as immature as that may sound." He spoke, turning back around, his face blank, but his eyes showing all that I needed to know. That amount of sadness and self loathing was surreal to say the least. "I hated myself, giving my soul to such an accursed path. No road down the line seemed to be filled with a spark of joy, and it felt like the world had shoved a hook in my eye, pulling me through paths filled with constant torture."

I could only wince at the way he spoke those words. Even just hearing them made me sick to my stomach at the prospect of what he could have gone through. Mors' eyes shined with a type of sadness and grief.

Then it stopped… and all that was left in his eyes was emptiness. An emptiness that filled the room with even more dread than his tone before he started the entire conversation. The golden orbs that every girl that approached Mors had complimented for its brightness… they were now a murky brown. .

It was… terrifying. To see something that you see everyday change, it couldn't be described. It was nothing but off putting, I wanted to turn away and not even look at him. but I was too scared to even do that. I could do nothing but look at his darkened eyes in fear and a small piece of awe. It felt wrong to say that it filled me with awe, but I couldn't help it.

I just couldn't look away.

"One day, arguably the most important day of my life." He spoke, his eyes looking dark as night. Yet, despite the darkness, the voice was hollow of all emotions. He never even moved from his spot, completely still like a stachue. The only thing moving was his mouth, and even that was hard to see. "I could no longer take all that hate. I snuck out again for what I promised myself to be the last time,all while grabbing my grandfather's ornamental claymore."

"Than…" He spoke, cutting himself off. His hand reaching towards his chin in deep thought, his eyes never wondering from the spot he looked at. I just continued to look, my eyes never wondering from the form of the knight sitting at my bedside.

After what felt like centuries, his gaze gaining the light that I was so familiar with, he continued his story.

"I… I just… kept swinging." He spoke, no humor in his tone just… shock. Despite that, I couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the way he said it. Thankfully, Mors' didn't seem to take offense and just smiled with me. "Nothing could stop me. Trees, stones, grass, walls, even that sword breaking in my hands. All that I swung at was destroyed…"

"And, at the time…" Mors' hands returned to his lap, sitting straight up as he told the story. As if he was almost excited about what had come next. "I thought it was glorious. Every bit of disgust... every lesson ... every sleepless night was channeled through me and expelled into insane power that my body could barely handle. As if the very fires of hell burned through me, erasing the pain. And with all of that anger out of me…"

"The disgust only grew..."

I was left floored at that, as if the emotional roller coaster that he has been spinning for me had just stopped for no reason. I just couldn't comprehend it. He had let go of all that frustration and anger out… so why was he only left with disgust?

Before my internal question was answered, Mors continued with his story. His tone of voice still left unchanged from what previously happened as he continued to speak.

"I later learned that I had gone absolutely berserk, and I had created damage that would take years to fix." A sheepish cuckle escaping from his lips as his hand reached to the back of his head. "But I could see all that I had wrought that very night, and the path of absolute destruction that could have only been me."

It was at that moment that Mors looked away from the empty space he was staring into, and turned to me, the eyes staring straight at me.

There was no way I could do anything but look right back.

"That's when I learned that even though no one had faith in my abilities, that they were still very real. Even though I was nowhere near as skilled as I could have been with such effort, the hours and hours of training weren't just for show."

"Still, I felt no joy for the revelation that I was a good fighter. How could I, when it did nothing but help me destroy a piece of the city I grew up in. That was the moment I decided..."

"Even if no one had faith in me and my abilities, even myself, I would still do what I loved. I would work hard to feel joy in my successes, no matter how small and insignificant they were."

"So, if I couldn't find the strength to be proud of what I accomplished, I would become someone that the younger, more faithful version of me would."

He just stood there staring, with me staring right back as I absorbed every word that he had spoken. I had almost forgotten to breathe at points as I just looked at him, completely astonished by what he spoke of.

"After that," He spoke looking away from me back to the empty location that he stared at, nothing else changing within him."I worked to become as strong as my younger self wanted to be. Someone that young, innocent child could look up to in the darkest of times, and brave all of his enemies and trials. After, of course, I ran away from home and never looked back."

For awhile all we did was sit. There was no sound or movement just the processing of information that Mors had imparted to me, about his family and the life he was forced to live. All I could think about was the story repeating over and over again within the confines of my mind. Despite that I couldn't even connect anything within it to my head, it just felt like too much. There was only one thing that had come to the front of my mind.

I haven't changed, have I?

Still the self loathing Jaune Arc that I was in that field long ago, disheartened by my father who was only trying to make sure I had lived happily.

Yet, right next to me was a man whose father disapproved of everything he did and didn't care anything about. Who crippled his son who disobeyed him and threw him to the wolves of a new world he didn't want to be apart of. Kept secret from his mother and all of his friends.

And yet, I'm the one complaining about it.

Before I could even begin to make sense of anything else, Mors voice filled the room once again. Though, thankfully, the voice sounded more like the one I was used to. One filled with dignity and a slight humorous edge to it.

"So, ye of little faith, I shall make this but a simple choice for thou." He spoke, looking right into my eyes with the eyes that shone like small suns, the barest smile on his face. His gaze giving me a sudden chill that ran all the way to my toes. "Do you want to be here, at Beacon Academy, with the partners and instructors who have done nothing but attempt to help you? Do you love the feeling of, eventually, getting to the point that you can use your skills for people? Do you enjoy the adrenaline that pumps through your veins, and the skill you work on day in and out finally coming to flourish?"

"Or do you enjoy the thought of a desk job, working like the common man everyone could be, and wasting the time I have placed into my Squire?"

It was very clear what he was doing, giving me a one sided choice like that. He was telling me that there really was only one option to all of this, that there was only one thing I could pick. Though, he made sure to let me know I had other choices, that I could give up everything I worked for. My hands tightening around my blanket as he finished his speech.

But this time, it wasn't in anger. I could feel it, rushing through my body like a shot of adrenaline the sharp and overwhelming feeling of excitement. A fire growing within me that nearly burned my skin.

The memories of what will come to pass faded as I thought about what he said. The fact that he didn't even know about it seemed to fill me with even more emotion as I thought through it. That he would've given me this speech even if he didn't know about it.

It just made it all the more powerful to me. Even now my lips stretched out into a smile, one that was most definitely visible despite the darkness of the night.

"It appears you have reached your answer." The knight spoke, starting to rise from the chair that he placed himself. As he made a slow and methodical pace towards the door, as if he didn't need to hear what I say next. The soft bumps of his feet the final sound within the night, as he finally reached the door for the second time that night.

Even as I stared into his back, the retreating form of the man that had helped me, I couldn't help but smile. But, I had to do the same thing back to him. Just for his help with getting my head out of the darkness.

Even if this was the last day that I would probably ever see him, he still helped me out. He was the closest thing anyone could have to a hero in my world. Something like that couldn't go unthanked.

"Thanks." My voice was quiet as it made its way to Mors. He stopped right there, his head turning around to look at me for what might have been the final time for the rest of my life.

Mors responded with a small smile on his face, and saying something that would be burned into my memory until I died. It was simple, but it meant a lot more than I thought it would.

"It was my pleasure... Jaune."