Chapter I- Set Into Motion
Yang
The inside of the ship was cold.
Yang supposed she should have been able to make a better draw of her surroundings of that— better than a wry quip on the coldness, of all things to be concerned about— but when her nerves jangled into overdrive, her thoughts clouded. It was just a fact, and she was very anxious— a nervousness that decimated any hint of diplomacy she might have.
Beacon was a prestigious school of the most skilled fighters: a scrupulous, meticulous school of rigorous training of the noble huntresses and huntsmen. For that, she already felt a chill of unease. What if she wasn’t good enough? Her father had always sent her and Ruby to train with Qrow, and among the few scraps of information she knew about her real mother, she took after her fighting skills. She was truly pursuing the life that Summer Rose’s light had been snuffed out in. What was to say the Grimm wouldn’t slaughter her, too?
Brushing away the thoughts to think about another time— she did that, too, when she was anxious— she smiled at Ruby before smothering her in a hug, pride brimming in her chest. “I can’t believe my baby sister is going to Beacon with me! This is the best day ever!”
“Please stop,” Ruby let out a muffled groan, and Yang shook with silent laughter.
“But I’m so proud of you!” It’s just what Mom would do, she mused, almost as an afterthought, be proud of Ruby.
“Really, sis, it was nothing—“
“What do you mean?” Yang furrowed her brows, tilting her head quizzically. “It was incredible. Everyone at Beacon is going to think you’re the bee’s knees.” She flashed a wicked, crooked grin, the kind that let Ruby know she was teasing.
“I don’t want to be the bee’s knees— or any kind of knees, for that matter. I just want to be a normal girl with normal knees,” Ruby retorted.
“Cliche,” Yang sang she frowned at the dark look that brewed, stormy, in her sister’s eyes. She was looking withdrawn under the crimson-tinged bangs that fell haphazardly over her eyes; that was how Yang knew how anxious she was. She and Ruby weren’t Bonded, of course, but they were sisters, and she could read her better than anyone.
“What’s with you… aren’t you excited?”
“Of course I’m excited.” Ruby let out a gusty sigh, gray eyes downcast. “I just… I got moved ahead two years, you know? I don’t want people to think I’m special, or anything…”
Yang felt a pang of sympathy, her voice softening. “You are special, Ruby. It doesn’t have to set you apart, though.”
“I guess.” She drew her shoulders closer, and Yang’s lips pursed in a frown before she backed away. There was a diverse crowd on the airship, most of them watching the news with dispassionate faces, though there were a few— a pale, stoic looking black haired boy; a slender girl with frowning amber eyes, a bow atop her head and an angry gleam in her expression— who were attentive to the news broadcast, recounting the White Fang’s exploits. As they watched, though, it dissolved into a hologram of a stern looking huntress.
“Who’s that?” Yang queried.
Almost as if it had heard her, the hologram deadpanned, “My name is Glynda Goodwitch.”
“Oh,” Yang said, and Ruby sniggered.
“You are among a privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy. Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future huntsmen and huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world."
Ruby leaned over, peering at the vast space that spread out, a sprawl of cities and forests lit with patchwork lights. “Oh, wow! Look, you can see Signal from up here!” Her voice lowered, eyes shining. “I guess home isn't too far after all.”
Yang smiled, a smile that hid her sadness. Her real mother, Raven, had been here once, looking up at the soaring spires of Beacon that stabbed starkly at the sky, a place of alluring prospect… Had she been like Ruby, excited? Or had she been stoic, determined?
“Beacon's our home,” Yang said softly, “now.”
She looked out; the sky was plumed with feathers of clouds, the vast velvety blue riffled with tiny rainbows of light. Beacon itself resembled a towering Gothic cathedral, a single turret disappearing into the clouds, while numerous other towers wreathed the building. The windows glinted with afternoon light like shards of fire. Precipices plunged on the south side of the academy, and ornate fountains sent ribbons of arcing water splashing into gurgling pools. The whole place was abuzz with activity— of teams chattering and laughing, the distant clash of metal on metal, and the gasp of her sister as she took in the beautifully detailed surroundings, manifesting in an overwhelming sense of intricacy.
"Wow..." she breathed.
"The view from Vale's got nothing on this,” Yang observed, eyes drifting over the emerald hedges, the statues of warriors slaying Grimm. There was a mantra that scrolled along the curving arches along the fountains, in what she recognized as Latin: libertas perfundet omnia luce.
“Freedom will flood all things with light,” Yang murmured softly, under her breath, before Ruby let out a breathless squeal.
“Oh my gosh, sis! That kid's got a collapsible staff! And she's got a fire sword!” Ruby made a break for it, and, startled, Yang caught her hood and dragged her, struggling back. "Ow! Ooww!"
"Easy there, little sister,” Yang said, puzzled at the excited shine in her eyes, worried that she would be so impassive over the school but so eager about this. “They're just weapons.”
"'Just weapons’?” Ruby gaped at her, eyes glittering with disbelief. “They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool!"
"Well, why can't you swoon over your own weapon? Aren't you happy with it?"
Looking bashful, she clicked her weapon into a scythe, metal sheathing against metal in a hissing din. ”Of course I'm happy with Crescent Rose! I just— really like seeing new ones. It's like meeting new people, but better..."
Yang playfully batted her hood down, grinning lopsidedly. "Ruby, come on. Why don't you go try and make some friends of your own?"
She took off her hood, looking up with wide eyes. ”But... why would I need friends if I have you?"
Yang’s voice softened. “I’m not going to be with you forever, Ruby. You’re… well, you’re growing up now. You have to mature. You need to make friends. Allies, even.” She clapped Ruby on the shoulder, sending her reeling. “I know you can do it.”
“Ah!” Ruby stumbled and toppled backward, and Yang’s eyebrows shot up as she fell into an organized pyramid of alabaster cases, plated in platinum studs. She winced— she hadn’t meant to make Ruby stumble— but before she could intervene, an enraged looking girl swooped in, eyes hot with anger.
"What are you doing?”
Uh-oh, Yang thought, better let her handle this… She stepped back— just out of range, but close enough to step in if things got aggressive. Truthfully, she was curious to see how Ruby would handle a hot-headed stranger; she recognized the girl as Weiss— was it Weiss?— Schnee, Heiress of the Dust Company. Eyes darting curiously from pair to pair, Yang grinned.
"Uh, sorry!" Ruby yelped, hauling herself to her hands and knees.
"Sorry? Do you have any idea of the damage you could have caused?" Weiss was practically smoking with rage, and Yang raised an eyebrow at her volatile temper.
"Uuhhh..."
”Give me that!" Weiss snatched the luggage from Ruby and popped it open, sunlight hitting the jeweled crystal vials of crimson, amber, gold, and sapphire Dust. "This is Dust—mined and purified from the Schnee quarry!"
Ruby was staring up at her, still with a taken aback expression, but a slow smolder of hurt was on her face as Weiss continued berating her. "What are you, brain-dead? Dust! Fire, water, lightning, energy!"
"I... I know—“
"Are you even listening to me? Is any of this sinking in? What have you got to say for yourself?"
Yang tossed a look over her shoulder, feeling a strange prickle between her shoulderblades, like someone was watching her. And certainly there was: the stoic-looking girl from the airship. Her eyes were a pale, strange amber, ringed in gold, her hair tumbling down in dark waves. She watching Weiss with an expression of utmost disdain, a hint of absolute loathing in her expression; as Yang stared, she picked up the bottle and started walking slowly towards the confrontation, an unhurried suggestion in her saunter.
Weiss brushed off the myriad of colored soot, eyes glittering, and glared furiously at Ruby. "Unbelievable! This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about!"
"I'm really, really sorry!” Ruby said.
"Ugh, you complete dolt! What are you even doing here? Aren't you a little young to be attending Beacon?"
"Well, I-I..." Ruby was starting to look uncomfortable, and Yang resolved to go in, to help her—
"This isn't your ordinary combat school,” Weiss spat, anger graveling her tone. “It's not just sparring and practice, you know! We're here to fight monsters, so— watch where you're going!"
Ruby looked calm, though the beginnings of a slow, boiling fury were lit behind her eyes as she rose. "Hey, I said I was sorry, princess!"
Yang started as the dark haired, yellow eyed girl strode up behind her, her eyes cold and glittering with contempt as she flicked her gaze over Weiss. The iciness in them was enough to floor Yang— she was taken aback by the steely set of her jaw. "It's heiress, actually.” Her voice was cool as she gave a not at all friendly smile to the pair of them. "Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. One of the largest producers of energy propellant in the world."
Weiss tossed her head, a smug, arrogant look on her face."Finally! Some recognition!"
”In fact,” the girl went on, tone taking on an edge of frost and contempt— Yang noticed her hand was drawn, clenched, the veins on it standing out in a stark topography of lines, “it’s the same company infamous for its controversial labor forces and questionable business partners."
"What?— How dare you— The nerve of... Ugh!"
“Thanks for helping out there,” Yang said, compelled to say something as the girl turned a raised eyebrow on her. “She was a bit… much.”
“The Schnees tend to skew towards the more up-in-your-face side of the dispositional spectrum,” the girl said with a light sigh. “Their daughter is no different, believe me.” She turned, hair whisking out behind her, and stalked off, leaving Yang gazing, quizzically, after her.
"I promise I'll make this up to you!" Ruby called after the storming-off Weiss, and Yang frowned down at Ruby.
“I’ve got to go, sis,” she said. “I’ll see you around.” She wheeled around, striding off— Beacon’s gleaming windows, sunlight bouncing off of them like fire, seemed to watch her. Crowds of friends and teams alike were gathered in noisy clusters, catching up with each other.
In the midst of it, she felt alone, somehow; that once, her kin had walked this way. Her mother, whom she didn’t even know the name of. Shivering— it was only the cusp of summer and fall, but she was cold nevertheless— she drew her rubbed leather vest closer, the light material of her skirt fluttering about her knees.
But she’d be a good Huntress. She had to be. If not for herself, then for the family she had left behind.
“I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted. Tuckered. Enervated, you could say.”
Ruby looked up from where she had been busily scratching a message on crumpled paper and cocked an eyebrow. “Are you just listing off synonyms to sound smart?”
“Maybe,” Yang admitted with a grin, flopping down on the floor. “But I am tired.”
“Me too. But I’m excited as well. We get teams tomorrow, and our partners.”
“That’s right.” Yang sat up, suddenly scouring the crowded room, full of initiates— tall, short, dark, light, friendly, guarded, and apprehension trickled through her. “I wonder who we’ll get…?”
“As long as they can fight well, I’ll be okay with my choice,” Ruby shrugged nonchalantly, pausing with her pencil halfway to the paper, a fixed look of intense concentration on her face.
“Whatcha doing?” Yang chirped, leaning forward to see the paper.
Ruby glanced up, balked, and tucked the paper further under her with a bashful look. “Writing to the gang back at Signal. I promised to tell them how things are at Beacon.”
“Aww, that’s so cuteeee—“ She choked as a pillow smacked her in the face, blotting out the light, and her squeal as well. Startled, she toppled back, hearing Ruby hiss, “shut up! I didn’t get to bring my friends with me; it’s weird not knowing anyone—“
“Oh, that’s right!” Yang sat up, knocking the pillow away irritably, and fought the urge to stick her tongue out at Ruby. “Did you make any friends? What about that scraggly blonde kid— Jaune?”
Ruby scowled, knotting her hands in the ruffled sleeping bag and letting her head thump down. “Yeah, one.” The way she acquiesced Yang’s derogatory description of him made her think that Ruby wasn’t entirely satisfied with her friend pool so far. “But I’m pretty sure Weiss counts as a negative friend.”
Yang rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “There’s no such thing as a negative friend. You’ve just made one friend, and one enemy— hey!” she spluttered as yet another pillow thwackedher in the face. “Okay, geez, geez!” She leaned forward and let her voice soften. “Ruby, you have friends all around you. You just haven’t met them yet.”
Ruby sat up, blanched, and cut her eyes across the room. Yang followed her gaze, and noted the dark-haired girl with the amber eyes, curled by a candelabra. From this angle, she looked less human and more feline, her eyes a glittering catlike amber and her face sharp and lost in shadow.
“That girl,” she whispered. “I don’t know her, but she saw what happened this morning, remember? She left before I could get her name…”
Yang grinned mischievously. “Well, now’s your chance!” She grabbed Ruby’s hand and hauled her up.
“Wha— what are you doing?” Ruby cried as Yang dragged her forward, past her feet bracing in the carpet.
Blake
Blake raised her eyebrows, perplexed as a loud “helllooo!” shattered the silence.
And there goes my peace, she thought ruefully, discreetly flipping down the left corner of her book and shrugging it down into her lap. She recognized the duo who had spoken and caused the clamor, but only vaguely so; there was the overly-chipper golden haired girl with the strange lilac eyes whom she’d briefly spoken with after shooting down the Schnee heiress’s hubris, and the younger girl who had evidently exploded with Dust. And worse yet, she thought with abject horror, they were heading right towards her.
“I believe you two may know each other?” the yellow-haired girl inquired as they pulled up right in front of Blake, her tone bright.
Blake, letting out a resigned sigh, and tugged a strand of her hair as two twin sharp gazes locked on her. “Aren’t you that girl who exploded?” she said finally with thinly concealed boredom.
“Yeah,” the shorter girl replied, laughing nervously. “Um, my name’s Ruby!” She proffered her hand, which Blake did not make a reach for. “But you can just call me crater…” she seemed to realize her joke fell flat as Blake raised an eyebrow, and she quickly added, “actually, you can just call me Ruby.”
“Okay,” Blake said, casting a longing glance towards her book; as she did so, she heard the blonde hiss at Ruby, “what are you doing?”, which was quickly met with a panicked “I don’t know help me!”
They both quickly turned back with nervous smiles and Blake clocked in the next droning minute of the conversation with her third eye roll. “So, what’s your name?”
A sigh. “Blake.”
Does nothing deter these two? Blake wondered, honestly surprised as her deadpan was met with an equally buoyant, “Well, Blake, I’m Yang, Ruby’s older sister!”
They look nothing alike, she thought with some degree of suspicion— Ruby’s slender build, dark hair, and gray eyes, accented with a touch of rose-colorations, were the opposite of the colorful vibrancy that Yang sported; she was a myriad of colors coalescing together into a brightness that was jarring from the muted hues of the shadows swathed in her corner. Blake grunted an affirmation, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as Yang chimed in again. “I like your bow!”
Her voice was tight with irritation. What’s she playing at? “…Thanks.”
“It goes great with your— erm, pajamas!”
Fourth eye roll of the night. Blake flicked her ear in irritation, her bow twitching with the movement. “Right.”
Ruby laughed uncomfortably, and Blake wondered what in the pits of Hell she had done to deserve this excruciating awkwardness when she just wanted to read her book.
“Nice night, don’t you think?”
Okay, it’s time to cut this off, they’re clearly unable to take a hint. “Yes,” she bit out through ground teeth. “It’s lovely, almost as lovely as this book.” Her eyes cut between the fixedly smiling pair. “That I will continue to read— as soon as you leave.”
Yang’s eyes flickered and she went ramrod straight, eyebrows arching as she spun and shot a meaningful glance at Ruby. “Yeah, this girl’s a lost cause.”
Bite me, she thought, surly and mutinous, well aware that it was tantamount to immaturity. Ruby had not moved, however, and her eyes were on the book with a look of interest.
“What’s it about?”
“Huh?”
“Your book.” Ruby gestured at the worn leather cover, sending surprise winging through Blake. “Does it have a name?”
Blake tucked her book closer, watching light dance across it in the flickering candle’s glow, the way the gilded gold letters seemed to ripple like snakes, like tendrils of moving fire. “Well, it’s about a man with two souls. Each fighting for control over his body.” Inexplicably, Adam ghosted through her mind; he had given her the book, and no amount of tirade against him could shake those softer memories.
“Oh, yeah, that’s…. real lovely,” Yang muttered dryly, and Ruby stepped forward. Against her will, Blake could see something of her younger self in the unadulterated hope on her face.
It only takes one person to make you feel like you can never go back home again, to have that phantom limb torn off, and to set a pyre alight within yourself, she thought.
“I love books,” Ruby told her. “Yang used to read to me every night before bed. Stories of heroes and monsters… they’re one of the reasons I want to be a Huntress!”
Blake smiled despite herself. “And why is that? Hoping you’ll live happily ever after?” A hint of sadness colored her tone. “There are more monsters in this world than the Grimm we fight.”
“Well, I’m hoping we all will. As a girl, I wanted to be just like those heroes in the books— someone who fought for what was right, and protected people who couldn’t protect themselves.” Her eyes coruscated with a determined light; Blake could discern a hint of uncertainty on her sister’s face.
“That’s very ambitious for a child,” Blake murmured, feeling her smile waver. “Unfortunately, the real world… it’s not the same as a fairy tale.” And there was Adam, dancing behind her mind’s eyes, and she remembered what it felt like to wreck it all and feel like she was missing something vital.
“Well,” Ruby didn’t falter, “that’s why we’re here: to make it better.”
“Oh!” Blake jumped as Yang’s squeal startled her from her thoughts. “I’m so proud of my baby sister!” She engulfed Ruby in a smothering embrace, which swiftly devolved into a scuffle, startling a genuine smile from Blake this time.
“Um, well, Ruby, Yang, it’s a pleasure to ha—“
“What in the world is going on over here?” A voice sharp with irritation sliced through the noises of the grapple, and Blake— fifth eye roll of the night— saw it was the Schnee heiress— Weiss, she thought; Ayran had kept tabs on all the Schnees, and there was seldom he loathed more than the blood daughter of the Head Schnee. “Some of are trying to sleep—!” She cut off, seething indignation on her face as Yang staggered back, glaring at her; in a perfect duo of fuming voices, they spat at each other, “oh no, not you again!”
“Ah, shut up! Guys, she’s right, people are trying to sleep—“
“— oh, now you’re on my side?”
“Hey! I was always on your side!”
“Yeah! What’s your problem with my sister? She’s only trying to be nice!”
I wonder if it’s genuinely possible to get an aneurysm from eye-rolling, Blake contemplated dryly before snapping her book shut with a resigned sigh, reaching for the candelabra. She pursed her lips at the bickering trio before breathing out, extinguishing the glow of the flames, and enveloping the room into darkness.
When she opened her eyes the next morning, it was to the hectic noise of chaos descending upon the room. She sat up, ramrod straight, eyes darting around her; she could see a dark haired boy with strangely violet eyes patiently enduring the chatter of a smaller, ginger-haired girl; Yang threatening to melt Ruby’s scythe into a giant metal dildo if she poked her awake with it again; Weiss sheathing her silver rapier with a murderous look in the direction of a slavering blonde boy. Unfazed, she grabbed Gambol Shroud and made sure her bow was well hiding her ears before she stalked from the room.
The day was coldly clear outside, other teams already abuzz with activity, some extolling their praises about Beacon as they meandered past. Blake had wanted to come to Beacon for so long: to these dark spires, lanterns of emerald, the walls plated with crystalline chips of Dust. It was beautiful, she thought, heart aching, in a way she could never, ever have, and never deserve. The stench of blood seemed to swirl through the air, along with the beautiful rictus grin of Adam, and she braced her hands on the icy rims of the nearby fountain. She watched her reflection in the water before it was shattered to pieces, shivering apart into darkness as droplets glanced on the water. She hardly recognized herself: hollow-cheeked, shadows under and within her eyes, her mouth twisted in a hard line.
“You look pensive. Why so broody?”
A sprightly voice broke into her thoughts and she turned her head, jaw clenching and lip curling. She saw the girl from the night before— Yang, then. How annoyingly persistent. Apparently, she hadn’t gone through with her threat to melt her sister’s scythe into a dildo, as Blake could see Ruby walking through the courtyard, bearing the crimson weapon joyfully.
“I’m fine.” She drew away from the fountain, brushing diamond rivulets of water from her fingers as a chilly wind blew between them, slipping out of colloquial into a formal tone. “I’m merely a bit anxious about the initiation. It’s very rigorous. Should you fail, you lose respect. This is a prestigious Academy, after all.”
“Right,” Yang said, looking puzzled as her rapid change to stiff formality. “Well, at least we all be with a team, after all. I hope my sister is on mine.” Yang tossed a glance over her shoulder. “She’s young, you know? Younger than the rest of us, and she’s reckless. I worry for her.”
“She’ll be fine.” Blake followed her gaze. “She can do it; she wouldn’t be attending Beacon if she wasn’t able.”
“I know.” Yang’s eyes flashed to the wide sweep of sky that breathed with wind and the white plumes of clouds. “I just hope you’re right.”
The shrill, piercing noise of a whistle shattered the silence, then, and Blake’s hand automatically flew to the weapons belt strapped around her waist before she realized it was only one of the professors, calling for the initiates to board the Bullhead that was transport them to their first renaissance mission.
Blake fell into the meager crowd of the other students. She looked up to the sky as they boarded the great metal airship— it was one of those early fall days, where the sky was impossibly blue and distant, the air tinged with the faint scent of smoke— and a small frown creased her brow. What did the professors have in mind for an initiation, exactly? She wasn’t worried, per say, about her fighting ability to overcome whatever they threw at her— she had clawed her way to the top and surpassed many others to gain a place in the prestigious academy, after all— but it was the mystery that shrouded the process that made her uneasy.
Already, within the ship, the congregation had separated from a coalesced mass into smaller groups. Idly, Blake glanced over them— a thuggish-looking of belligerent cronies, a nervous cluster of insular initiates, and lastly, those who seemed average. She stood apart, her hands light on the railings that bordered the sheer glass windows of the airship; the dizzying height that dropped away below her might be daunting to another, but she’d come to terms with it. One didn’t harbor nonsensical fears and be a Huntress; the two didn’t comply.
Soon, the sprawling patchwork of the first Kingdom was behind them, slowing melting into scraggy wilderness of moors, valleys, lakes, and forests, procuring birds and glances of light from their surfaces. Blake turned away as she saw the vibrant copper of Forever Fall in the distance, and resumed watching the other initiates.
Partners, and teams. That’s one thing I could forgo. She bit her cheek. If she was honest, the prospect of having another partner… it wasn’t something she was eager for, not after Adam. A spear of anguish lanced through her and she banished the painful thoughts. Whatever. Just— just so long as they’re decent.
Her eyes sought Forever Fall and she felt like the barriers of the windows had evaporated, leaving her standing over a fathomless depth.
As long as they’re not Adam.