I do not own Winx Club or RWBY, or the characters used in this work of fanfiction. I also don't make any money off the publishing of this story.

The Burning Beacon

Prologue: A Spark of Hope

Dafne didn't feel sure about this place, but it would have to suffice. She'd intended to make it all the way to Earth, but once she realized that the Ancestral Witches had put a Trace Spell on her, she was forced to take a detour to a planet well known for scrambling magical readings: Remnant. It was a wilder, harsher world than she wanted her beloved sister to grow up in, but it was one of the safest places in the known realms at the moment. The witches would never find her sister here.

She glanced down lovingly at the redheaded infant in her arms. Alexandra Deanna Bloom Fuego, second princess of Domino, slept peacefully in the warmth of her pink blanket. She had the most beautiful blue eyes—the same shade of blue-green that their grandfather had when he was alive. It didn't sit well with the crown princess of Domino to leave such a beautiful innocent child in such a harsh environment as this evergreen forest—a forest packed with man-eating monsters, but there was no other choice. Besides, she sensed someone was nearby and hoped that whoever it was would take compassion on her sister.

"Stay safe, little flower." Dafne whispered, carefully laying the infant down in the lee of a fallen tree trunk. "You may well be the only hope our people have." Her shaking hands pinned a small note to the blanket before she stood erect again. The stranger was coming ever closer, and she couldn't afford to be seen. With one last glance around the woods, Dafne disappeared in a flash of light and left behind her the comforting smell of the ocean.


The title of Hunter or Huntress ranked as one of the most revered in all of Remnant due to the planet's chronic Grimm infestation. The Hunters, skilled and powerful warriors, fought to keep people safe from the monsters that haunted their waking nightmares. Glynda Goodwitch was no exception.

The Emerald Forest of Vale had a serious Beowulf problem this year, and she had been called in by fellow Hunter Ozpin to deal with it. The forest was a training ground for young would-be Hunters, true, but they wanted the young trainees to at least have a fighting shot at survival. Beacon Academy, though new, had the reputation of its founders Hansel and Gretel Anderson drawing the best and brightest teachers and students to its gates every year. Ozpin had just been hired on as an instructor; Glynda didn't envy him. She preferred to be out in the middle of the combat, not observe it from afar. It was the main reason she had been asked to clear up the Beowulf issue along with the other instructors: her reputation for results preceded her.

She was following tracks through a less-dense part of the wood when she felt the unmistakable sensation of high-powered magic. Had someone else been here recently? She wondered. Altering her plans, she cautiously approached the area she'd felt the pull coming from. She slipped between the large tree trunks, leapt over logs and narrowly avoided landing on a pink bundle of…wait. What?

Skidding to a stop amongst fallen twigs and decomposing leaves, the blonde Huntress knelt down to examine the bundle. She felt her breath catch in her throat when she realized the pink blankets contained a small child. The little girl wasn't quite old enough to crawl yet and was currently sleeping soundly. She had bright red hair and wore a tiny blue outfit of some kind.

A square of folded paper pinned to the blanket caught Glynda's attention. Mindful not to wake the child, she tenderly removed it and began to unfold it. It felt more like expensive stationary than standard printer paper, and the writing on the inside was the elegant script of someone gifted in the dying (at least here on Remnant) art of calligraphy. The contents, however…well, she wasn't sure what to make of them.

To whom it may concern,

It is with deep regret that I am forced to write this note. I had wished to be able to see my sister grow and thrive in our own home, but alas, it is not to be. She has been targeted by wicked people intent on either kidnapping or killing her. The best course of action is to leave her in the care of someone else in a place no one would think to look for her.

Her name is Bloom and she is eight months old. She is up-to-date on the vaccinations required where we come from and is in good health. Please, if you cannot care for her, place her with someone who can. She deserves only the best.

~Dafne

"Bloom, is it?" Glynda asked, folding the note back up and sliding it into one of her pants pockets. "Well, I can't very well leave you here alone, can I? You'd be eaten within hours." Minutes, even, given the upsurge the Beowulf population experienced this year. The child mewed in her sleep, but didn't awaken. Careful hands lifted the girl off the ground and cradled her. "You have great power, Bloom." She remarked, walking in the direction of the academy. "You'll make a fine Huntress one day."


"You're back early. And what do we have here?" Gretel Anderson asked, walking closer to the younger Huntress. Gretel was a small-framed woman easily into her golden years with her gray hair pulled into a low bun and round wire-rimmed glasses guarding her brown eyes. These days, she'd traded in her battle armor for a tasteful green dress and sensible black shoes.

"This is Bloom; I found her in the woods." Glynda replied, shifting her hold on the infant so that Gretel could see her tiny face.

"What a sweet child." Gretel's mocha-colored eyes softened as she gazed at the child. "Why would anyone leave her in the Emerald Forest?"

"Because they knew people go through there to hunt." She replied, shifting her hold on baby Bloom yet again so she could pull the note out of her pocket. "This was pinned to her blanket." She handed the note to the older Huntress, who read it intently.

"So someone wants the child for her power, either because they wish to use it to their own advantage or because they fear it." The older woman mused. "The situation must be dire indeed for them to leave her in the forest."

"But what will we do with her?" Glynda asked. "Naturally, there are many families willing to take in a child, but with the power radiating from her aura…"

A chuckle sounded from her old friend and mentor. "Glynda, I believe you are yet again overlooking the most obvious solution." She smiled. "Hans and I…we are too old to keep up with a child. Ozpin means well, but he's not well suited to being a single parent. Doting uncle, perhaps, but not a parent."

An unfamiliar feeling settled in the pit of Glynda's stomach, chilling her entirely. "You can't possibly…no, you can't mean it." She fumbled for words, green eyes searching Gretel's brown ones. "Gretel, I'm an active Huntress! It's no life for a child!"

"Glynda, dear, has it ever occurred to you that you can remain an active Huntress while staying in one place?"

It had, but not in the way her friend was asking. "You want me to stay here at Beacon?"

"Naturally. It's far safer here and I'm sure the students would love a chance to babysit. You don't have to teach if you don't want too; just make sure the forest isn't completely overrun and help other professors capture certain Grimm for practical lessons."

A tempting offer—far too tempting for her to pass up at the moment. "Fine. I'll help." Glynda sighed, looking down at the sleeping babe in her arms. The things she did for this girl…and she hadn't been in her care more than an hour yet.