Disclaimer: I do not own anything from RWBY or Fate/stay night. Any and all characters in settings tied to RWBY are owned by Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC. and any (few to none) characters and (mainly) settings or ideas from Fate/stay night are owned by Type-Moon.

The poem Do not go gentle into that good night was written by Dylan Thomas and I claim nothing in relation to it.

The lyrics to Red Like Roses from the RWBY Volume 1 Soundtrack were (I am assuming) written by Jeff Williams and I claim nothing in relation to them.

Criticism always welcome.

Once upon a time there were four queens. They were called the Queens of What Remains. These were four women of great beauty, strength, and power. At their height they, together, held the world in their hands. Millions of men, women, and children were their responsibility and hundreds of thousands of soldiers were at their command. The youngest, their leader, was as swift as air and accurate enough to thread the smallest gap. Her foes had no hopes of escape; she could outrun them. They had no means of survival; there was no way to dodge. Her names were the Scythe of Death, the Rain of Terror, and she was the Red Queen. The second one looked down on the world from a throne of ice and anywhere to which her eyes could see was in danger of her magic. The mightiest flames would become nothing but embers at her feet and the greatest magi would seem like novices in comparison to her skill and knowledge. They called her the Insurmountable Glacier, the Spirit of Akasha, and she was the White Queen. The third one was different, for her ancestors were not human but animal. She was not an animal though she carried primal fears with her like a blanket. She was not a human despite the fact they saw her rule as one. She was feared as the Shadow of the Beast and respected as the Messenger of Gaia. She was the Black Queen. The fourth and final Queen was the red one's sister and heir to a different throne. She burned like the sun and was as fierce as any dragon. No one could touch her lest they be turned to ash, or as the case usually was, blown away to dust. In a rage, no one but those closest could calm her and her enemies knew better than to give her a reason to anger. She was called the Explosive Star, the Serpent of Alaya, and she was the Yellow Queen. These four were the cornerstones of their world. They were the ones who shone the brightest.

Like many good stories, there must be a terrible evil for the good to overcome, yes? The old saying is that every light casts a shadow but in this instance it was the shadow that sparked the light. Many monsters lurk in darkness and such a horrible monster was this darkness. Ever pervasive, impossibly overwhelming, this darkness was a plague upon the word. Not one inch was spared of its malevolence and not one soul was spared its damnation. Its origin was and still is unknown. Does the old saying ring true and did some greater light cast the destruction? Did some Magus go too far in creating the perfect weapon? Did Akasha Itself, in all Its vast knowledge, see fit to test us? To punish us? Nobody knows and I dare say nobody will. Those who lived in hell called it Grimm but I say giving it a name spoils an impact that still has its mark on our development; it sullies such an infamy that still causes nightmares to this day. These things were what brought civilization to its knees, these things were what slaughtered millions upon millions, and these things spelled out a doom from which there was little hope to overcome! But a little is still some, yes?

The Darkness sees the Light as its prey and the Light sees the Darkness as its tormentor. An ending to this seemingly endless battle was inevitable but I don't think anybody exactly imagined how it played out. The Queens were the champions of Light and so took up its cause. A light being buffeted by forces threatening to snuff it out flickers and thrashes and so too were the Queens determined to live. They swore that their remnant would become whole. They marshaled their forces, rallied their troops, and sallied out to begin the last war of their kind's existence. Such a war was not easily won and the beginning was anything but inspiring. Carving their way through, they lit a beacon that they thought would cut through the darkness, but little did they know how deep this darkness was. In all their magnificence and majesty, they lost. They lost terribly. They did not lose everything though and in the end they even gained something. Something wonderful, something glorious, it was something that showed the possibility of a bright end. They found the Source of all their Evils. It was an object, tangible. It could be dealt with.

So they prepared. They knew their defeat was possible and so before going out on their disastrous first sortie, they had left enough to build from. And so their kingdoms built, and scavenged, and they threw themselves with all their might at their last hope of salvation, for they knew this was the end. The tide was growing stronger and their lands were only growing weaker and crumbling bit by bit. What was the darkness doing during this time? Were there any champions that lived for its name? Yes, but this is not their story. This is the story of the Queens and the Queens finally had their fuel to burn.

Now I must apologize, but I feel it an opportune moment to share the start and ending of a poem. I take no authorship for this poem but I find it fitting in a slightly morbid way. It comes from the present day, an age where one of your worst worries in relation to the darkness is you fretting, "did I forget to light the candles?" It might not come from a softer time, but it does come from a brighter time. At least, it is brighter than the one I am discussing.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
 Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, our mothers, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, us now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And so they did. They fought with everything they had. Humans and Faunus fought abomination and they bled. Countless weapons were wielded against countless foes and they bled. The commoners and the nobles fought for a single cause under their Queens. And. They. Bled! Magic you would never believe was thrown around in such and such a way like party tricks. Mountains that rose up into the sky with the size of our castles of steel and glass were moved or outright demolished. Such was the power seen that the fools in the Clocktower would climb over their own children to even get a taste. Such was the potential for annihilation, the worst trial for Alaya ever, that the entire Elder Council of Atlas would faint on the spot. Even the Estray Syndicate would as a whole bow at the likes of such a pure display of Gaia's will. And yet all of this - ALL OF THIS - was just enough to give them a chance. They died for a chance that their Queens would bring about the end of all the world's Evils.

The Queens, those beautiful symbols of light, struggled to bring about that end. I do not know what happened. Their stories and their legends do not say. I only know this: Is our civilization still here? Do we yet live? The end was achieved, obviously, or else this is quite an elaborate hoax on the part of the eternal darkness. But that possibility doesn't even bare thinking. The Queens reigned triumphant over the dawn of a new age. This is an age that many see as without darkness and how do I wish that were so. But fools would be blind thinking fate is clear. Due to the uncertainty in the origin of the Source, there is always the potential for a relapse. Such a relapse, in an era where magus and muggle live apart, might well be inoperable. I fear for such a day, and with my particular semblance I might very well live to see it.

-Letter found in Clocktower Library circa mid-1700's, Author unknown

Note: Due to uncovered events in relation to the 3rd Aura Awakening Ritual, I have reason to believe the author's footnote of wariness near the end might have some wisdom in it. Since Qrow has professed to have an idea as to her identity, I have tasked him with hunting down the author. It is to be a priority given the nearing of the 4th. On a final note, I am henceforth taking a sabbatical from the position of Director of the Clocktower to lead a more personal investigation into the mysteries surrounding the ritual itself. I wish you the best, Glynda. I am sure Ironwood would be more than happy to lend Atlas' aid if any incidents were to occur.

Ozpin

On the face of Aggregate, there is a city called Middleton. It is aptly named, or unoriginally designated as others may say, for it lies in-between the great and ancient states of Vale and Vacuo. It was called the gateway between nations and it was settled as a symbol of the unity the world felt. Or at least, that is what they all spouted. It is a great city, a neutral haven that has arisen amongst the sporadic conflicts humans love to fall into. It has grown important as a place of compromise and cooperation. It is where the ancient seats of civilization go to work out deals. In this city there are many people looking around to get a foot up and away from a world bound by the chains of past ages. There are even more people from that very same world looking around to ensure that those people don't succeed. Surely in such a place, there would be nothing that could go amiss? On the contrary, a long-standing and complex series of amissible things happens to go under the noses of almost the entirety of the city every sixty-some-odd years. The Magi call this series of events the Aura Awakening ritual or as the participants call it: the Aura Wars. It is at the end of the fourth that this story truly begins.

My story, you ask? It is in a sense and not. It is the beginning of the end of my story. Instead, this is where I first met one of the heroes this story really revolves around. This tale is of a boy whose past was literally blown away. One who struggled to survive, was found and- ah! I am getting ahead of myself. Now, where to begin? Ah, yes! Now then, instead of rambling on, why don't I just show you?

"Why ..."

The heat is unbearable and I can barely move my feet. The lingering dust is an annoyance and continues to get into my silver eyes. My deep burgundy hair is black now from all of the dirt clinging to it and my long hair falls down in clumps. Either the blast or the final fight itself must have taken the small bow keeping it together. I think I might have heard a building collapse a few blocks away. Or was it maybe just a hundred meters? I can't be sure. I think I might have received a concussion from the blast. If I was more aware I might be amazed at the simple fact of any building being able to withstand that even for a few minutes. Or has it been an hour? My mind appears to be slipping. Whoopsie!

"This ... how- how did it come to this ..."

Ah, yes. What is this? I look around and I see it. It's decimation multiplied by a magnitude of ten. It's a strange sight, really. In Middleton of all places you wouldn't think you'd see such a thing. Yet no matter how much I wish it was not so, there it is. The city vista was replaced by a circle with a mile radius that will eventually wind up looking like a crater. I think the Clocktower will almost certainly write this off to the masses as a meteorite impact. If only that were the case. No, space rocks do not come from nightmares; they do not seep into a person's very being. As I go stumbling along, I see something else that a piece of rock would never leave. Is that a chewed up and burnt corpse? Don'tLookDon'tLookDON'TLOOK!

"Hrgk ... bluah ..."

Too late. The acid burns, but it's nothing compared to the suffering I received from It. The cuts I accumulate as I fall don't even register. My mind is so far beyond such simple injuries as a few nicks and dings. How could someone mortal like me even begin to cope with the scope of what I saw? What I felt piercing through me even as it blew up in my face. My face returns to the sky. It might just be the light of the fires surrounding me, but I think the dawn might be breaking. Middleton awakes to a very harsh reality and what a way to wake up. Death knocks the loudest after all. Well, what are you waiting for? Let him in!

"No ... There's got - There has to be someone! ANYONE!"

I scream. My voice breaks the quiet of the night. But I realize it's anything but quiet. I hear the crackle of fires, another building settling down in its grave, and the crying. Me, crying? No, that can't be. I stopped being able to cry a while ago. I listen. It's still there? Wait, then that means ...

"Waaah!"

Yes, crying! It's coming from the front, from the rim of this circle of hell! I get up; I force myself up and walk. My legs wobble against me. One step, two steps, I need TO MOVE! I push against the rubble and climb over half-melted metal beams. This person needs help. I need to help them; I need to be able to make something right!

"Waaah!"

There, behind that wall. Up and over I go and I'm met with a child. A child? How could a child survive? This must be delirium setting in. I smack myself. No, still there in front of where I am standing, standing still. WHAT AM I DOING?! I rush over to the prone child. Poor thing, curled in on itself. The child - A boy? - barely has any clothes. They seem to be burned and ripped, yet his skin appears untouched. How? And why is he glowing? The flames around him flicker and singe him. A small patch of skin is burnt but the white glow surrounds him. It nurtures, caresses, and the wound recedes then disappears entirely.

"Aura ..."

Yes, I remember it now. How could I have forgotten so quickly? The glow, his survival, it makes sense now that I see this. A magus? A son of one of the masters? Not necessarily ... wasn't it extreme trauma that-

"WAAHH!"

Focus or you will lose him!

"Shhh, it's alright."

I gather his limp body into my arms. I hold him and push him into my bosom. I can't help the smile that comes to my face. It's a sad and hysterical smile that should never really be seen on anyone's face. No one should want to smile like this because no one should be in such a situation to necessitate it. It comes from being dropped into an abyss and finally seeing a light shining from the other side. To me, the light comes in the form of a little boy with golden hair and white aura. The light whimpers for darkness surrounds it.

"Shhh ... Everything's alright. You are safe. I will take care of you."

The boy settles and quiets down. His blue eyes finally close and he slips away. Into unconsciousness and thankfully not death judging from the aura I feel coming from him. It's astonishing that I am still able to sense aura, none the less to be able to physically carry him. My knees straighten and I stagger onward with my precious load. The edge of the rim seems so far off but I must make it. This gift I have been given must survive. A small repentance. Not enough, but it's something. I make it over the rim and I continue to stumble. The buildings here stand but they still show damage. But finally! I see uncracked streets! Street lamps that, although have burned out, still stand! One step, two steps, trip but don't fall.

Are those more cries I hear? Flickering lights? They grow closer, but why? The cries turn into a shrill scream, but I am not moving. I can't figure out what I'm hearing or make out what I am seeing. My senses are too blurred. A horrible dread overtakes me. This scream, these lights, please don't let it be Them. I may have dealt with the others but Saber dealt with Them. Something white that flashes blue and red races toward us. It stops in front of us and I am unable to move, paralyzed. When have I ever been paralyzed? I need to fight, to protect, yet my feet won't budge. This can't be! I'm a huntress, dammit! Have I really fallen so far so soon? I am at least able to step back while forms dismount from the object. Wait ... forms dismounting? And these forms - They wore black ... they wear blue. MEDICS! An ambulance! Thank you, Alaya! Thank you for having mercy, sweet Alaya.

"Ma'am! Oh for Oum's sake ... The stretcher, Lance, get the stretcher!"

"I'm already on it, Arthur!"

"Ma'am, please sit down. Can you sit down?"

I waver. Can I sit? Yes, but the child.

"I- Take the child."

"Of course, ma'am."

The man's arms wrap around the ragged weight in my arms. My arms themselves are too stiff to even move.

"Miss, I need you to let go. Lance is here with the stretcher and he can take the child but, please, you need to let go."

"R- Right."

Doing as I am told, my grip finally loosens and I hear a rattle of a cart coming up to me. The world starts to spin and blurs out of control. Darkness seeps in but both a voice and limbs grab a hold before I can slip.

"Ma'am! Uhhh, shit. Where does it hurt miss?"

"What kind of question is that, Arthur!?"

"It's a stupid question is what it is, but I'm losing her and I need to keep her focused! So shut up, Lance, and take the child! Somehow he's been untouched ..."

"Tch ... doesn't look that way."

The ground gives way but I am not falling. The arms around me pull me up and then they lay me down. I barely feel cloth placed over me and I feel the pressure of something that holds me still. The world is rough for a moment as I am moved. A sense of weightlessness and then finally the night sky is closed off from me. That hellishly hot and dark vista sprayed with red is finally replaced with the cold white. But the darkness doesn't disappear, oh no. It welcomes me, beckons me, and I fall.

"Mother?"

My eyes open to be welcomed by the sun. Wait ... sun? Mother? I do my best to sit up and I think I did well in hiding the grimace that wished to escape. I lean on my elbows and my sight settles on a blond haired boy verging on his teenage years. He looks worried, why is that? All that's really happened was - Aura War, Explosion, Child, Adoption - Mother. My mind finally returns to me.

I give him a smile, hopefully not a sad one, and reassure him, "Yes, Jaune? Did I sleep in again?"

He nods, "Yeah, you did."

He stands back up from his kneeling position at the side of my bed. His feet shuffle back and forth before he asks, "Umm ... Are you ok, Mother? You look sort of ... well, you look too much like a skeleton really ..."

I look down at myself and see that he's not exaggerating too much. My arms, once built with powerful muscles, have now atrophied to where they are like sticks in both appearance and strength. If I were to look under my robe, I would see ribs and be able to count them. I have no reason to gripe about my condition though. The taint that pollutes my aura has been cruel but fate has seen fit to give me a wonderful last few years.

I give a weak chuckle and joke, "Yes, I do look fairly ghastly. Do you think that for the next Middleton Fair I should go as myself?"

Jaune's mouth twitches but the ill humor doesn't seem to go over too well.

"And- And-" He stumbles over the words he wants to say and then just decides to mumble them, "You were saying something about darkness and fire."

My smile turns into a frown.

"Hm? I'm sorry, but I can't understand you when you speak in whispers."

"Were you having a nightmare?"

I think back to before I woke up. I think of a bright light and a searing heat, fires and a putrid smell. Yes, I was having a nightmare of the worst sort. Memories can be like that for the unlucky. I can't go about telling the boy this, though, now can I? I would be a poor guardian if I allowed for the child to worry about the parent. He already knows more than I would want about my life before, why should I burden him with more?

"No, of course not. You should know by now that I can be a restless sleeper."

The boy looks slightly mollified by that. He looks down and agrees, "Yeah. I still remember when you kicked me out of the bed."

I smile. It was two months after I took him in that I woke up to him in my bed. I was still high strung at the time and let's just say I didn't act with the best of intentions. I suppose I really shouldn't be surprised he remembers that. Receiving two broken ribs from your guardian would be something that is hard to forget. I was very thankful that Jaune was someone whom it was hard to truly hurt. What was really surprising was how quick he forgave me.

With a smirk I tease him, "Well then, maybe you should step back. Otherwise, I might accidently add punching to that list."

I finally get a genuine smile out of him and he backs away to give me space. I swing my legs around and place them on the cold wooden floor. I push off and rush to try to find my balance. Of course, instead of standing straight I go straight to crooked. I begin to sway forward.

"Mom!"

He rushes forward and catches me. It's sad when a child of no more than eleven years of age is able to easily stabilize a grown woman of - oh - I can't even begin to guess when I stopped counting. I quickly see to my footing and I give Jaune's head a pat.

"Sorry, I guess I must still be tired from sleeping so late."

Jaune's eyebrows meet and his lips grow pursed. I keep forgetting how perceptive he can be. He's more than dense in certain aspects but he can sniff out someone in trouble faster than a hound can sniff out an animal underground. Come to think of it, I doubt he's believed a single word coming out of my mouth since I woke up. He must have decided not to argue with me though since he takes my hand and leads me out the door.

"I'll help you to the kitchen. Breakfast was ready a while ago and ... and I was afraid to wake you. Since you might have been mad. And punch me."

I notice the slight pause in his speech and how he quickly came up with an excuse. He was afraid of something else. Poor thing, he can be perceptive indeed. I remind myself that, even then, the state I'm in doesn't take a detective to see and understand. We come into the kitchen and I gently lower myself into a chair. Jaune himself goes into the kitchen proper and after a minute or two comes out with a plate.

He puts it in front of me and apologizes, "Sorry for the wait. It was cold and I had to use the microwave." His nose then scrunches up and he sniffs. "And you know how much I hate to have to microwave food."

In-between bites I manage to suppress a giggle.

"Yes, such barbarity."

He crosses his arms and, with the same scrunched up face, his head jerks up and then swiftly down. He states with finality, "That's right."

He breaks back into a smile immediately after and he is content to watch me as I go about eating. It's actually pretty good for microwaved food. Then again, homemade meals that are skillfully done always taste better than food meant to be reheated. We sit and enjoy each other's company until Jaune sits up straight and stiffens.

I look at him with worry and ask, "Jaune? What is it?"

He looks towards me and whispers, "Someone's here."

I stiffen as well and look around. He gives me an odd look that makes me realize he doesn't mean in the room. I check the bounded fields and, sure enough, there's someone walking through the front gate. I relax though since I know who this is. The person isn't so much a respectable business man than he is someone I could trust to completely keep his word. What worries me is that I couldn't passively sense him from the bounded fields. But fretting over losing my senses can wait. I should probably send Jaune off before he-

*bang bang*

"Hey, Summer! Are you there?"

Jaune looks at me curiously and I sigh. I wave a hand motioning him to get it while I rest my head on the other. Jaune hops off his chair and goes to answer the door. I hear the door open and a bass voice comes with it.

"Hey! It's the little weed!"

"I am not a weed!"

"Sure you are. Anything your height is small and I can't think of anything smaller in a garden than a weed."

"Yeah ... well ... weeds are tough and hard to kill!"

"Hmm ... maybe I should reconsider and think of something else until you grow older then. My daughters can run right over you."

I grin and shake my head at the exasperated sigh coming from the entrance hallway. I hear Jaune's and someone's heavier footsteps get closer and both of them enter the kitchen.

"Moooom, why is Junior here?"

I look from the walking beard in a red tie and black vest to the boy who has a comical pout on his face as he walks up to me.

I ruffle his hair and say, "Simply because I asked him to."

Junior crosses his arms and with a smug grin scoffs, "Hey, you can't be giving the kid wrong ideas now. I don't do anything just because people ask."

Jaune gets a devil of a grin and suggests, "She could hypnotize you."

My smile disappears fast and I glare at Jaune who squeaks and jumps back. I hear Junior laugh and say, "Ha, maybe when she was younger."

Now it's his turn to receive a stern look down for entirely different reasons but the smug bastard is smart enough to be looking away. I sigh again and shake my head. I turn back to Jaune and kindly ask him, "Jaune? Could you go to the shed and start cleaning it up for me?"

"But mom, the work-" He quickly changes words with the look I give him. "shed is already-"

"Jaune." I cut him off and give him the same glare as before. I reiterate, "Go clean the shed. Now."

"Yes, ma'am."

Jaune turns around and I wait until I hear the back door shut completely before turning back to the only other one in the room. Junior's smug smile has disappeared and he slowly sits down across from me.

He shakes his head and grumbles, "What gave us the idea adopting orphans was a good idea."

"I adopted Jaune because I saved him. You adopted the twins because your parents owed theirs a debt and you just happened to inherit it."

"Yeah, it's the worst thing to come out of my parents croaking in that fireball."

I give him a dry look and tilted my head.

"I know you don't actually think that way. You may honor your deals but this was a deal that your parents made. Besides, nothing would force you to do what you don't really want. You're a criminal after all."

Junior shakes his head and corrects me. "Irreputable business man."

I smile and continue on. "Of course. I have seen the twins and I dare even say they look slightly," I pause and raise my eyebrows in scandalized fashion, "spoiled."

"Where they get the money for those dresses, I have no clue."

"Hmhmm."

He shrugs but we both share a small smile before Junior's turns sour. He slumps in his chair.

"I almost couldn't believe it when I walked into the room. Just months ago I remember you still having some meat on your bones. A full year ago and I had the feeling you would be a tough fight. But now? I knew you were afflicted with something serious but ... damn. You really are dying, aren't you, Summer? "

I softly nod my head and let out a breath. "It's come to the point that Jaune has to wake me up. Every day I grow a little more doubtful that I'll even be able to return to bed. I truly believe I might not last the week and this is why I've called you here."

Junior gives a grunt in acknowledgement and takes out envelope stashed in his vest. He places it down on the table in front of me.

"Your accounts are all dealt with and all of the money, even the less than honestly earned money, will be his on your passing. I looked over both the house and the property and it's the same with them. If any legal trouble comes up, these documents should straighten out whoever's causing the trouble."

I close my eyes and just move my head in acknowledgement. The idea of death is so different than the knowledge of your death and the consequences that will come with it. It can tire a woman out. I reopen my eyes and we both sit in silence for a moment. I see Junior rub his facial hair and then I grow concerned when he a smirk crawls onto his face.

"If you want, I could have either Miltiades or Melanie come over and keep him company. I'm sure he could use a good playmate and-"

"No!" I shoot up. I might be on death's door but there are some things I can spare the energy for. "No offense meant to your girls but ... no."

Junior busts out laughing and stands up out of his chair.

"I've already forgotten to take offense."

He walks towards the hallway before turning around with that smug look of his and saying, "I guess I should thank you before I go. I think I might actually miss you."

I try to give him my driest stare and riposte, "I'm sure you say that to all of your clients."

He shakes his head with a grin.

"Oh, of course I do, but for once I actually mean it. In all your soft-heartedness, you've been my biggest help. I'll be sure to look you up in heaven when I find myself in hell. You never know what business might be created."

I snort but start coughing a little and then a lot. When my chest finally stops racking me with pain, I give him a wave, not caring to look.

"Goodbye, Junior."

He gives me a pitying look before he shakes his head and then leaves while saying his own farewell.

"Smell you later, Rose."

"I almost had it that time!"

"Good. Now repeat your steps and don't forget the imitation of skill part."

I'm sitting on the back porch while watching Jaune practice his thaumaturgy. With his incessant whining to teach him something, I finally broke down before the first year had even ended. I wouldn't have even told him about the world of magi if it wasn't nearly impossible to keep it as a secret in the first place. After all, when the cuts any child take over the course of their growth all of the sudden start receding at an alarming rate it's hard to explain. And when this is accompanied by being surrounded by an aura of power that to a Magus' eyes is a blindingly white, it would be a down-right hassle. And so the first to come were aura lessons. All of this, of course, originated from that morning he surprised me. It was my punishment, I guess, for accidently harming him. Speaking of things that might harm him ...

"You're wasting too much aura. If you keep doing that, you'll burn out and I can't carry you to bed anymore."

"It's fine. I'm not feeling any strain."

"Not yet, maybe. Take it slow. The point of practicing is to get it right and not to get it fast. If you burn out, you will be sleeping out here tonight."

"Yes, ma'am."

I smile and lean my head against the wall of the house. I can barely sense his aura fluctuate but it stabilizes quickly enough. That was the easiest part, now comes the hard. Aura was only enough to sate his curiosity for about a year. I told him that to master ones aura takes years which only served to convince him that he should start doing other things that need aura to help that process along. It took me a month before I bowed to childish stubbornness and picked something I thought was safe, gradation air. Something relatively useless to the magical world and which is mainly used for quick activities. The best part in my mind is that it is harmless and that no one had been able to weaponize it. In the world of magi, an entire study being unweaponizable means something. In the end, besides the basics of alteration, I've only told him about aura and gradation air.

"Tch."

He loses concentration and whatever he was forming dissipates back to Gaia. He doesn't get frustrated, he just starts over. His determination is admirable even if his skills might be lacking. I have no idea if he would be good in something else and I don't care to find out. I had hoped teaching him those three concepts would be enough but he still had to get bored. Some magi spend years practicing aura before doing anything else and I know of an entire family which specializes in alteration and I find out he got bored. I might have troubles understanding that if I didn't know he spent most of his time inside doing things such as cooking. He had enough free time to be able to create an entirely new method of gradation air. The fact that I had been intentionally screwing up his lessons to discourage him from magecraft in general probably somehow helped in that aspect. I would kick myself if I was able to move my legs.

"Almost ... there! I did it!"

"Turn around, please. I would like to see what you chose to make."

Jaune slowly turns around and walks back to me. He's holding something in his hands, but I can't make it out. He holds it carefully like it was something precious and then slowly extends his hands. I blink.

"Is that a ... rose? Did you copy this off the rose bush on the front porch?"

He nods enthusiastically.

"Uh huh! It took forever to figure the blueprint out and I was having trouble with the concept but- but I did it!"

His arms lift up the rose to my eye level. His grin is infectious and my own smile widens.

"Nicely done. Is it stable enough for me to hold it?"

Jaune hesitates and his smile falters for a second but then his aura flashes.

"It should be. Here!"

He gently lets it fall into my awaiting palm. I feel the pricks of the thorns so I see that he at least got them correct. I slide my fingers over the red flower petals. There are some rough spots and other areas seem off color but to any non-magical person this would be a fine rose. Sadly, it doesn't last long. As my fingers finish their path, the entire flower bursts into light and dissipates. Gaia found out it was being duped and deemed it fit to clean its existence. Jaune slumps.

"Aww ... I was hoping it would have lasted longer."

"None the less, you did well. There were some texture issues and I think the petals may have been slightly hollow in places but otherwise it was a beautiful rose. I worry however what that beauty signifies ..."

His expression turns confused and he asks, "What do you mean?"

My smile disappears and I sigh. I look up from my hands and directly into Jaune's blue eyes.

"You have been practicing without my permission, haven't you, Jaune?"

Jaune frowns and he looks away. A better answer than any word he could have given. My hands turn in on themselves and lay on my lap as I breathe in.

"Jaune, why do you insist on practicing your thaumaturgy? You know I don't want you to use it without me keeping an eye on you. I have told you of the dangers time and time again and yet you still do it. Why?"

His eyes slip to his feet and he kicks the ground for a moment. I hear him mumble but can't make out anything.

"Jaune, you need to speak up."

"You just don't want me to use thaumaturgy at all." He whimpers.

"You are correct. I don't want you to use it. I never wanted you to use it. There is a reason that magi are said to walk the path of death and I didn't want to know that I set you on that path. I have told you of this path and some of what I experienced walking on it myself. I thought you might have understood those dangers but you persisted because, for some reason, that did not matter and so I taught you. In exchange you were to only practice it under my watch so that I could see to your safety. I compromised with you, Juane. I did this in good faith that you would accept it ... Apparently you didn't. I am asking why you continue to do this. Why do you choose to ignore the faith I have in you? What do you want so badly that my care for you does not matter?"

I look at him with a sad expression as his foot starts to kick back and forth again. He finally stops and he looks up. I'm taken aback by the fierce determination in his eyes.

"I want to help people, like you helped me."

My mouth purses a little as I try to explain, "You know that the statute of secrecy would-"

"I know!"

I frown a little more and he flinches and looks down again.

"I know. If I practice enough I'm sure I could help others without breaking secrecy!"

"You can also help them without using any kind of magecraft at all."

"But- But there are people and things that still hurt others, right? Uh ... people and things who use thaumaturgy to hurt others."

"And there are specific people who deal with them. You are not one of those people."

I can see him squeeze his hands into a fist and he almost yells, "Then I'll become one of them!"

We remain in silence for a little while after the outburst. He stands there still with his fists clenched. I think fondly about how it was just my luck to save a stubborn one. He's close enough so I gently grabs his arm and pull him toward me. He flinches and looks up worried but he relaxes when I close around him in a warm embrace.

I weakly chuckle, "Junior was right to call you a weed. You're persistent and difficult, but in the end those are traits that might help you in your goal."

"Mom?"

"I stand by what I said. I don't want this for you, but ..." I stop and let go enough to leave a little space between us. "If you truly want it for such a reason, it would be dishonest of me to say you can't. Can you promise me one thing though?"

His head turns and he looks into my eyes before asking, "What?"

"Would you promise that the first thing you'll do in helping others is to consider mundane things before anything else? Only when you can't do anything that a non-magus can do, only then would you turn to thaumaturgy. Would you promise me that?"

He's quiet for a second but he nods his head and says, "I promise."

"Thank you." I squeeze him as much as I physically can and say, "I love you, Jaune."

"I love you too, mom."

My weak grasp finally breaks and he scoots just enough to get comfortable. We remain in comfortable silence for a while as we smile and look up to the stars and broken moon. It's an otherwise beautiful night. The shattered moon shines bright and its fragments diminish into the stars. The light it gives illuminates the yard but I note how it is starting to fade and how a certain tiredness is gnawing at me. I struggle to keep my eyes open when a soft hum comes from beside me. I continue to listen to it and my smile widens. I know this song.

" ~Red like roses fills my dreams and brings me to the place you rest.~ "

Ah, yes. My lullaby. I'm flattered he still knows the words. I think I haven't sung it in a couple of years. It's kind of him to ... remember it now ... Lullaby's are meant for sleeping, no? ... And I am so tired ... A good way ... to go ... Good ...

" ~Yellow beauty burns gold.~ "

When I finish, I deeply breathe in and out. I think I sang that right. It's been a while. I don't think my voice cracked too much while singing it. I didn't hear or see Mom cringe any at least. I look over to her to see her silver eyes slightly open and her mouth painted into a smile. She's quiet and not moving. Then again, she wasn't able to move much to begin with ... I lean over to her and slightly shake her.

"Mom?"

She doesn't turn, she doesn't breathe, and she doesn't even blink. The only thing moving is her hair. The soft breeze flows by and plays with her ponytail and red night gown but her eyes remain unblinkingly locked on the sky. I quickly sit straight and lock my view onto the moon. She's gone. I feel something run down my cheek and I harshly wipe a small tear away. Stupid tears. They won't help me and mom's beyond help. I keep wondering why she didn't go to a doctor but she always said it wasn't something a doctor could help with. Maybe it had to deal with her life as a magus? I'll probably never know and, besides, it doesn't matter now.

I wish that the smile could stay. I remember her smiles, especially the first one she gave me. It's faint, almost nothing, but I can still see it. She had saved me and been happy. She had helped me and been happy. I want to help others like that; I want to feel that happy. When I help others at school I sort of do but ... I feel as if I could do more. If I can find out how to heal others with it, I know my aura can be helpful. By practicing, I thought that my thaumaturgy might prove useful as well. Mom was always there when I started doing it on my own though. I know why she didn't want me to abuse my powers. She told me enough stories of her as the Blood Rose to understand that. But why was she so hesitant for me to use them at all? I shake my head, stand up, and walk into the house. I should call the police. It wouldn't serve her any to leave her body sitting here.

Author's Notes (17/04/15): Hello, readers! This was an idea that popped into my head after viewing a certain picture on deviantart. The picture in question that inspired me is Fate x RWBY by dishwasher1910. It's a lovely piece of artwork and he has other RWBY art that is just as well done too! The long term (and I mean very long term) goal is to, obviously, write a complete story of the 5th Aura War starting here at the end of the 4th to an epilogue of sorts after the conclusion of the 5th. This piece is currently planned to be divided into arcs with a different rival for each one beginning with a small introduction arc. Don't count on there being any shipping. I might give hints if I am feeling bold but I can be such a coward at times so don't be expecting it. At most you shouldn't be reading anything overt. It's Drama/Adventure for a reason!

As you could probably guess from the story, this will be (as of right now entirely) a RWBY-character-based story. The main concept of the story itself is based on Fate/stay. Others ideas and concepts come from both it and RWBY. A tentative guideline as to the origins: (1) RWBY - (Complete) characters, (minor) abilities/technology, (average) setting; (2) Fate/stay - (major) abilities/technology, (average) setting

So, in other words, don't expect Jaune to be bombarded by the scolding of Rin or Pyrrha to be enamored with Shirou. Especially since those characters don't exist in this dimension ...

I should warn you though that this prologue was mainly me wanting to say to the world "I am writing this!" My focus will remain on my Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken retelling With a Sword and a Smile. (Shameless Self-promotion) Maybe if you're interested you'd kindly take a look? Yes, no, maybe so? Either way I should let you know that chapters will only appear sporadically. An optimistic (and potentially naive) estimate for updates would be 1/month. Emphasis on optimistic. Once With a Sword and Smile is done I'll focus on this but I don't see it ending this year. I'm a pessimist in reality.

Apologies to anyone irritated by my use of the poem Do not go gently into that good night or the lyrics of Red Like Roses. The first just sprang into my mind and as for the latter, I needed something to allow Rose to die on a high note.

Potential Questions:

"Wait, Summer Rose as Kiritsugu? Then where's Ruby? JAUNE?

- You'll find out over the course of the story but rest assured you'll be meeting the Queens eventually. As for Jaune, he just fits the bill. I can't think of anyone besides Ruby herself that would potentially fit hero complex with limited knowledge like Jaune and he has that healing factor that just screams "Avalon replacement." I also have plans for Ruby that restrict her in this aspect.

"Is Summer still Ruby's mother?"

- Yes.

"But then her - the Queens ... huh?"

- It's OK. How she got to where she is will be explained in due time over the course of the story. I already have a light outline of how the story is going to go and this question is a semi-major point in one of the arcs. Qrow who was mentioned is also related to this issue but we won't be meeting him for a very good reason ...

"So who will be Jaune's servant and who was Saber?"

- Now, now. That would be telling!

Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing. All things considered, I hope you like the story and until next time!

Criticism is always welcome.