Chapter Text
The clacking of Ozpin’s cane was loud in the still night as he walked through the gardens. It seemed even his rowdiest of students had turned in tonight, either to rest aching minds or burn the candle from both ends as they got in some last-minute studying before final exams tomorrow. It left the school grounds unusually quiet, to the point it was impossible to miss the wingbeats that turned the air before a crow was diving down before him, landing on his feet as a well-dressed gentleman.
“Was expecting to find you in your office.” Qrow said, rolling his shoulders a bit.
Ozpin waved his cane to indicate the flora around them. “It’s quite rare that things are so peaceful. I decided to come out and enjoy it. Although, company’s always welcome if you wish to join me.”
His former student shrugged, “Sure.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, languidly strolling along beside him. Nevertheless, it didn’t take long for him to ask, “So, is it peaceful all around?”
“No major movements to speak of. I take it things are equally well at home?”
“Well, Yang graduated top of her class and she’s been showing a lot of promise as a strong fighter too. Tai couldn’t shut up about it in the facility lounge. We’re all dreading just how much he’ll carry on when she’s actually at Signal.” The smile that touched the other’s lips was surprisingly domesticated for someone who was once raised as a bandit. Time truly was a wonder. “As for Ruby, her semblance kicked in last week.” His eyes lit with a bit of mischief. “She wants a rifle attached to her weapon, so I was trying to show her how to brace herself for the recoil. First time she shoots it, all I hear is this yelp and suddenly the gun is on the ground and she’s all the way on the other side of the field.”
Ah, so speed then. That would certainly come in handy for Miss Rose once she mastered it. “I wonder which part had Taiyang in more distress: the fact his daughter can now cross distances in an instant, or you teaching an eight-year-old how to shoot a high caliber rifle.”
“Eh, didn’t let him in on that part.” He laughed, scratching some of his stubble. “We’ll tell him when she’s fifteen. Or twenty-two. Or, never. Never’s good.”
Ozpin shook his head, but he couldn’t shake his amusement. Though Qrow’s updates came infrequently, they sounded more and more joyful as each year passed. It was certainly a welcome turnaround from how things had been back when the girls were only toddlers and fresh tragedy threatened to break the foundation of the family, as he’d seen happen to so many others before. Grief and loss had a way of injuring the human spirit in permanent ways that could be hard to return from. Nevertheless, the case of the Branwen-Rose-Xiao Long family managing to recover from those scars and be in such a state of happiness was an uplifting observation of what happened when those who loved and cared for one another didn’t give up on each other.
It only made it all the more painful to know that these moments were soon approaching their end, and he’d be responsible for shaking up that foundation yet again.
His solemn thoughts must have shown on his face, because Qrow spoke up, “You sure everything’s alright?”
“Ah, yes. Merely speculating.” He attempted to evade.
The other shot him a wary look. “About?”
He should have known that wouldn’t work. Qrow was one of his most loyal followers for a reason, after all.
Still, Oz was not inherently cruel, even if the things he asked of his companions at times, whether it be laying down their lives or their morals, could be harsh. When his agent was ready to become his spy again, there would certainly be plenty of chances for their conversations to turn to more daunting and serious matters. For now, he neither required nor wished for that. So instead, he found himself focusing on the first thing he could as his eyes turned to the sky. “Have you ever heard the story of how the moon broke?”
Qrow rose an eyebrow, sparing a glance towards the hovering orb. “It’s something about the sun going out, right?”
“That’s the most basic version, yes. But the whole tale is much more intriguing.” He settled down on a bench, crossing his hands over the top of his cane. “It actually starts with two birds.”
The man snorted, pulling out his flask and leaning back against the trunk of a nearby tree. “’Course it does.”
Taking that as his cue, he began, “A long time ago, during one of the Brother Gods many false starts with humanity, a vision of theirs was to have humanity living alongside deities of nature and the core principles of life. One such deity went by the name of Odin, of whom I’m sure your familiar.”
“Unfortunately.” Qrow replied, taking a swig. “Some of the bandits used to pray to him before a raid. They thought if they did, he’d guide the upcoming battle in their favor.”
“Yes. While a true one, it’s unfortunate that is his most common association when his many other influences are often forgotten. Being the keeper of the sky, for example, allowed him to grow incomparably wise with only a very simple method.” He lent forward some. “You see, there were two deities that he was particularly interested in – Sol and Mani. Sun and moon. In the stories you probably heard, they were called lovers but that’s not accurate. They were soulmates. Many are unaware of this, because Mani’s full name, Manirra, was lost in most transcripts.”
The huntsman’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “I might be a bit rusty on my Old Norse, but I’m thinking marra is the term for mate?”
“Correct. I’m surprised you recalled that as I heard you slept through that class quite often.”
“Me? No, never.” He waved off. “So, what do birds have to do with this?”
“Well, Sol and Mani were the only deities who could see the going-ons of the entire world – with exception to cloudy days. However, as the two ruled at opposite times of day, they only had a short time together during dusk and dawn to greet one another before the other would have to rest. Most of their hours were spent in solitude. So, Odin hatched a plan, quite literally.”
Qrow groaned, grumbling under his breath, “Oh, for maiden’s sake.”
Oz didn’t bother to hide his teasing grin. “To both further his own knowledge and to alleviate the loneliness the two felt, Odin searched for a companion to each of them and eventually found Hugin and Munin. Hugin had been shunned by most of his kind for being smaller than the rest; but this had led to him being more thoughtful than most. So, when approached by Odin, he sympathized with the celestial deities’ plight and was willing to assist. Similarly, Munin was also distanced by her kind as her mental strength made her stand too far above them. Knowing her potential was being wasted, she too agreed with the plan.” He set his cane aside so he could instead settle back and cross his leg over his knee. “And thus was the beginning of an accord that would later become unmatched devotion. Every morning started the same. Hugin would fly…
…to the Astral Tower, which stood tall as a mountain in the center of the Great Continent. With curved wings, Hugin soared from the north, parallel to the mammoth stairway, the zephyr guiding his way up. At the top, he landed on his feet, shaking out of his feathers and tapping along the oyster-pearled floor where two gentlewomen sat. Mani, ever radiant in her silvery light, acknowledged him with a bow of her head. His broodmate, Munin, seemed to be at true ease as she rested in the folds of Mani’s moonstruck cloak, stirring none at his arrival. Their gentle countenance told of an eventless night. Muted like snow, he joined them on the floor as he awaited dawn’s light.
The sky’s deep ocean blue turned periwinkle and the drifting clouds blushed, the horizon turning alight with yellow-orange fire. With Sol’s ascent of the eastern stairs, the sun lifted ever higher and when he arrived, he was touched in its glow.
“Blessed morning, my compatriots.” He hailed, his tone everwarm.
Now awakened, Munin sunk further into her hiding place until she was only a mass of raven-wild hair. “As always, you burn too brightly.”
“Imagine that.” Was the gaily quipped return. Sol glided to Hugin’s side, joyously welcoming the brush of lips to his brow.
“I quite enjoy it.” Hugin admitted, drunk already on the other’s brilliance.
“That’s a pleasure.” He beamed. “I make them extra vibrant for you and you only.” He beheld his kindred soul. “Was the night well?”
“As still as an untouched pond, but give a fortnight for winter’s advent and I’m certain it’ll rage like Rán’s sea.” Mani foretold.
“Beyond a doubt.”
They shared more words, but it was brief like a lightning strike, and too soon was Mani rising to depart. Munin beseeched her, already longing, “Must you go?”
“Fear not, my devote.” Their cheeks caressed. “Night will unify us again soon.”
“To the morrow then.” She accepted.
“To the morrow.” It was promised.
The moon, already lost in the sky, went unseen as it lowered beyond the world. With her absence, Munin said her farewells as she flighted to Odin, leaving but a single feather behind. And henceforth, as was as common as a mouse were to a field, only two were left.
“I’ve witnessed Munin has grown evermore attached to Mani.” Hugin observed.
Sol’s reply was well humored. “If Mani were a flower, then Munin would be the stem that held her. Though, is it not the same between you and I?”
“Perchance. Although, I would rather to aliken us to something less wilting.”
“What say you then?”
His own devote did not find an answer right then, but upon his time spent to fetch a meal, it came to him as he viewed the ground passing beneath him. By noon’s tide, he proclaimed his discovery: “I say I am the shadow of your light. One can simply not exist without the other.”
“What a sublime notion.” Sol graciously countered, “My only grief is that it equates you to something quite dark, when to I, you’re as luminous as a sun ray.”
Hugin may have ducked behind his wings had he been in his true form. “I’d claim that be an untruth if you could truly hide anything.”
“Ever the jester, you are.”
“So, they were in love.” Qrow observed.
“Completely. And outside of that, each of them were also very close friends.”
He took another long drink. “What happened then?”
“Well, a disciple of Nótt, who was known to be a bit crazed by his dedication to her, wished to make an eternal night as a show of his faith for her. So, one cloudy evening, just as dusk was beginning, he climbed the western stairs of the Astral Tower where the three were waiting for Mani to arrive…”
Twilight commenced in the usual way, the three partaking in their affable exchange and banter while awaiting their fourth to ascend. So engaged were they in their tranquility, so stewed in their bliss, not a one of them was prepared to contest their oblivion until it was much too late.
It was upon Hugin’s eye that glimpsed it, the glint of silver too sharp to be the peeking moonlight, and he heralded a cry as he leapt for Sol, “Beware!”
The arrow did pierce his back and through his heart, halting it within an instant and Hugin fell dead into his deity’s arms. Munin, who had heeded the omen, braved an escape but she did not even make it out of the chamber before a second arrow penetrated her skull, her raven form left broken on the opaline floor. Immersed in desolation, Sol could only call to his breathless devote, until the final arrow cut his voice. At the juncture of which that spade-tipped point lodged itself into his thorax and he laid to his final rest, the sky above became blacker than the remains of a forest raged by fire. Sanctimonious duty complete, the executioner vanished as instantaneously as he had arrived, omitting his knowledge to what would happen henceforth.
Sensing something vastly amiss, Mani swiftly scaled to the top of the tower, the one and only beholder of the carnage. With her kindred soul, her amorous devote, and her dearest fellow all lifeless before her, she knelt to the ground in mourning. The moon suspended in the heavens reflected her heart, and shattered.
As the story ended, Qrow looked up at the sky thoughtfully. “That’s pretty tragic. So,” He pointed at him around his flask, “True or false?”
“In this timeline?” Ozpin replied, getting to his feet. “Not as true as it once was.”
“Heh, should have known.” He pushed off from the tree. “I think you tell me these stories just to mess with me.”
He only smiled secretively. “Speaking of stories, I heard an interesting one going around the administration office not long ago.”
“Mm, and that was?” He inquired, bringing up his flask.
“Well as you know, sometimes the schools gossip about each other.” Oz waited until he was drinking to say, “I merely heard a rumor that two teachers from Signal were caught kissing in the library.” Qrow predictably choked. “I didn’t happen to catch any names, but I have a good guess on who they were.”
“Oz,” The younger got out between his coughs, “Has anyone ever told you you’re the devil?”
He laughed, twirling his cane as he walked down the path. “I’ve heard it once or twice.”
His companion was soon to join him again, and they talked the evening away as old friends often did. And he was certain, come morning, Qrow would be flying home.
History was known to repeat itself like that after all.