Hi guys. This was just an idea that I wanted to write about to flesh out RWBY's history in my mind. I hope you guys enjoy and please leave any reviews that could help me improve. Thanks!

Chapter 1

Part 1: The Aberration

The pair came from the south at twilight. No supplies, no transport. Just their cloaks; one crimson, highlighted with orange runes at the seams, one purest white, clasped by an ornate black rose. White Hood carried a pole arm, a halberd as tall as herself, that looked too heavy for her to lift, let alone carry one-handed the way she did. Red Hood carried no weapons but he stood a full head above his companion and his size and bulk was obvious even under the cloak

The forest was dead, or it might as well have been. The fog around them made seeing beyond a few metres impossible even with the dying sunset and all they could hear over the heavy wind was the crush of snow under their boots. Both paused for a moment when the fog suddenly cleared and the wind calmed.

"Eye of the storm," White Hood said with a girlish voice that almost seemed out of place coming from her mouth.

"The target's here somewhere," Red Hood replied. His voice was a growl like the crackle of a smouldering fire.

"The map says something about a village along this path," White Hood took out her Scroll and tapped it for emphasis, "we should wait until sunrise to track our mark down. Stay there for the night,"

Red Hood nodded, "You're probably right,"

Beneath her hood, White raised an eyebrow, "You're agreeing with me? You never pass up a chance to kill Grimm, Vulcan,"

Red Hood- Vulcan- grunted, "You haven't heard it yet,"

"What are you talking about?" White Hood asked. Vulcan nodded up ahead. The path led straight to a distant light. The town, she was sure. But it was the faint echoes of sound that caught her attention. Screaming.

"Oh no," she whispered and bolted ahead with a speed like lightening.

Vulcan chuckled to himself quietly, "So predictable, Summer Rose,"

(The Town)

The Beowolves had broken through the gates and were running amok. The village's meagre defences were just enough to stop them scaling the wall but instead they just smashed through the front door like a flood. Summer skidded to a halt through the stricken entrance. She had her halberd ready but no monsters came to attack. All that greeted her on the street were bodies.

The screaming was still all-too-horribly present but they came from past the ravaged houses, "Here's your field test, Rose," Vulcan was still walking calmly inside, "What's your tactical appraisal?"

Summer took a deep breath, tuning out the horrible death stares around her and focusing entirely on the facts at hand, "At least twenty creatures of Grimm judging but the scale of destruction. Local militia probably killed eight or nine if they were of good quality, two or three if nearly non-existent-"

"Not accurate enough," Vulcan snapped, "look around you,"

Summer panicked slightly under the sudden outburst, "Erm- the town is a backwater. They may be used to attack but are underequipped to deal with this many Beowolves, so four or five at the most,"

"Good," Vulcan nodded, "Where would you say they are?"

"People are dying," Summer snapped at him for once, "we need to help them,"

"Don't rush off to save the day, cadet," Vulcan cautioned, "if you play the hero without thinking things through, it's a fast track to getting killed. Now answer the question,"

"The heart of the town, somewhere for the villagers to defend themselves together,"

"A last stand," Vulcan said, "Men will always huddle together when the dark approaches,"

"How poetic," Summer murmured.

Vulcan lowered his hood. His lean coarse skin was like charcoal and his eyes blazed a fiery orange to match his cloak. His face was a looked like it had won wars on its own, with over half a dozen scars showing. This scar tissue twisted into a smile, "I can be philosophical when I'm not slaying monsters. Now," he cracked his knuckles loudly, "enough theory. Let's go and have some practice,"

(Town Centre)

Summer was right. In the panic of the attack, those quick-witted enough fled to the courthouse in the town square. Barricades blocked the door, windows were boarded up and for now, the Beowolves were thwarted. The creatures paced back and forth, scanning for weakness but the windows were holding and the monsters' attempts to get past the entrance were met with gunfire that sent them scampering back.

The two of them stood on the burning roof of one nearby house. The cold bit into both of them but Vulcan insisted on removing his cloak, claiming it was impractical. Summer stood a few steps behind him, her white cloak blowing softly in the breeze. Practicality aside, having the warmth of the custom-made cloak around her was reassuring.

"Nineteen Beowolves by my count," Vulcan knelt down at the edge, like a predator perched over its hunting ground, "This should be interesting,"

Summer shrugged, "Nineteen on two is simple for us even without surprise,"

"Correction," Vulcan turned back and flashed a wicked grin, "Nineteen on one,"

Summer froze. Even her cloak seemed to go ridged as the wind died down, "You cannot be serious,"

"Go on," Vulcan's normally stern, volatile attitude seemed to cool in light of his amusement, "You always bragged about your skills at Beacon, prove you have what it takes to be a Huntress,"

Summer seemed to have been frozen in the cold. For a moment, he thought she might disobey his order out of spite.

"Fine," and then she was gone, passing him by like a breeze, only leaving fallen white rose petals. "I have to ask how she does that," Vulcan said to himself. By the time he turned to look at the fight, three of the Beowolves were already dissolving from quickly kill strokes. Summer truly moved with a deadly grace that the Huntsman hadn't seen in years.

The Beowolves howled at the intruder and three leaped to attack. But Summer wasn't there. There, Vulcan thought. She skidded to a halt as the Grimm crashed into each other ten metres away.

With practiced ease, Summer retracted the pole arm of the halberd until it was half its original length. The blade collapsed into a trigger and from the shaft sprang out a small bow. Reversing her grip on the weapon, she aimed the crossbow at the Beowolf closest to her. The bolt embedded itself in the creature's head and a moment later, the explosive tip detonated, knocking the others back.

Summer's crossbow- which she called Moonshard- fired again and again until the six-bolt clip ejected. She went to replace the magazine but the Grimm were already going for her. Then, as if in a puff of white petals, she disappeared. There it is again, Vulcan smiled.

"Perfect Reaction," is what the teachers called Summer's semblance. No matter what attack is thrown at her, the cadet knew it was coming. It didn't mean she could dodge or block everything- if someone was fast enough or strong enough- but with enough practice, she was able to take on opponents outnumbering her many times over. Like now for instance.

"Ok," Vulcan stood up once more, "she's passed. Now time to finish this," From his back pocket, he retrieved a Dust crystal. It was pale blue but glowed orange at his touch. With a slow exhalation of breath, he crushed it in his fist. The Dust seeped into his skin and the changes it wrought on his body became clear for all who could see. His skin seemed to crack slightly like rock baked under the sun and from these cracks, the Dust glowed bright orangey-yellow. The light dimmed as he inhaled and glowed as he exhaled. The transformation made Vulcan a beacon of pulsing light in the glowing dark.

Summer and even the Beowolves paused at the sight of what appeared to be the heart of a volcano. Vulcan jumped off the roof, landed next to one of the Beowolves and caught it in a vice-like grip. In his hold, the monster trashed and flailed even as it died in contact with his molten skin. Dropping the rapidly vanishing corpse, Vulcan took a step forward. His feet made the snow melt with the tiny sizzle of vaporising water. The sound brought a smile to his face, the smile of a man perfectly at home in the middle of a fight.

The Beowolves charged at the new target, completely unaware of what stood before them. Vulcan was swarmed by the Creatures of Grimm. They clawed and gnawed and tore and scrapped but none broke his charred skin. And then….. he exploded. For an instant, Vulcan burned as bright as a supernova and nearly as hot. One moment he was surrounded by monsters the next, he stood alone in a small crater of glass.

"And that, Summer Rose," he said gruffly, "is how you efficiently get rid of the Grimm,"

Summer was awestruck. Vulcan's near legendary pyrokinesis was said to be able to burn shadows but she didn't realised they meant he could destroy deamons of the night in an eye blink. Vulcan's body cooled and he quickely retrieved his burned away clothes, "Even under that hood, I can see you staring," he shouted over to her, "I told you about my powers before we left Beacon,"

"Knowing about that power and seeing it are two completely different things," Summer noted the drained look on Vulcan's face, "You ok?"

The Huntsman nodded, "I can't do that often. Multiple uses over a short period could be fatal. Well, come on," he swung a trench coat around himself in a vain flourish, "we still have a job to do and we need a place to sleep so let's go meet the natives,"

If you've read this far, I hope you enjoyed. Once again any tips on improving my writing are appreciated.