August 3rd

Antigone opened her eyes slowly, not wanting to leave the warmth of her bed. But she could hear her handmaidens calling her and saw light shining behind the curtains of her bedroom windows.

She rose slowly, holding her belly as she sat up. The baby hadn't stirred all night. It had been a pleasant sleep, all things considered, though Antigone still missed the beautiful dreams she often had as a child. She hadn't dreamt since her world had been torn apart ten years ago.

Antigone looked around her bedroom. Everything was white. The colorful patterns she had been used to were now painted over. The artwork she had loved to admire was gone and likely burned. Her bookshelf was mostly empty, with only a few history texts remaining on it. Her favorite jewelry had been replaced by simple gold and pearls. The only things showing that it was her room were a few photographs of various family members, all of which were simple portraits that showed none of the subjects' personality. The Suppression Act had stripped her room of anything that she felt made it hers.

"Come in," Antigone called to her handmaidens. Irina and Elsa entered immediately and began helping her change out of her nightgown. The dress she put on was plain white, and it was let out to leave room for the swell of her belly.

"It won't be long now, Princess," commented Elsa, smiling brightly.

"I know," answered Antigone, smiling back. Thinking of the baby made her happier than anything else could these days. It was strange to know that the person who brought her the most joy in the world was someone she hadn't even met.

Not for the first time, she considered the baby's name. Her father and husband both had expectations, but tradition in Mantle was that only the mother had final say in her child's name. It was the one bit of creativity that Antigone was still allowed.

This, of course, only raised the question of how far she was willing to take this chance. The obvious choice would be to name her child after a former king or queen. That would make her father happy. But she was tempted to name the baby after an artist or storybook character. That was the most rebellious option she could imagine. It would infuriate her family and be an absolute scandal. Over and over she considered the question: should she take this singular chance to express herself, even though such a thing would create trouble needlessly? She couldn't make light of this decision, especially since it would inevitably have a huge impact on her child's life.

Once she was finally dressed, Antigone left her room and walked slowly down the hallway. It was as bare as the rest of the palace.

Entering the dining room, she first saw the head butler, Edmund, standing at the ready. He bowed and greeted her as she opened the doors.

"Good morning, Princess Antigone. The chefs are already preparing your breakfast."

Glancing at the table, she saw her husband, Haemon, was seated alone next to the head. He was dressed in his crisp, white military uniform, medals pinned to his chest. The last few bites of an omelet sat in front of him. He rose as she entered the room, a smile on his face.

"Ah, there she is. How did you sleep, my dear?"

"Well enough," she answered. "The baby was quiet all night long." She walked over to her husband and kissed him on the cheek.

"That's good to hear," Haemon replied. "It'll only be another couple of weeks now. I'll be honored to finally meet the future ruler of Mantle."

Antigone chuckled politely. Acting like their child was a dignitary he had to impress was her husband's idea of a joke. It wasn't very funny, but she appreciated his attempts to make her smile.

She sat across from him, and soon a plate was set in front of her. It was piled high with eggs, warm bread, and fresh cut fruit. The fruit in particular was expensive in the frigid climate of Mantle. Antigone did her best to appreciate the meal.

She considered the chefs for a moment. She realized with envy that they were still allowed to pour their heart into their craft as they always had. In writing the Suppression Act, her father had either failed to consider cooking as a form of self-expression or had deliberately left it out. He was known to enjoy a good meal, so Antigone could believe either possibility.

As she pondered, Haemon finished his own breakfast and rose to leave.

"I'm going to be stuck in meetings all day, but I will see you this evening, my darling," he said. He walked around the table to kiss her on the cheek, and then left through the far door.

Anyone who looked at Haemon could tell he was a military man. Everything about him showed strength and discipline, from his precise movements to his well-kept dark hair. He was tall, handsome, gallant, and always gentle with Antigone. Not to mention he was only four years older than her, less than half the age gap between her parents. A general from a noble background, she had known him for two years before they were wed. She wasn't sure if she loved her husband, but she knew he was far better than what most could expect out of an arranged marriage.

She placed a hand on her belly. Whether or not she loved Haemon, his child was the most important thing in the world to her.

Now that they were alone, she turned to Edmund.

"Please sit down," she asked him.

He sat in the chair next to her with a smile. Edmund Sieben was short, even shorter than Antigone, but was still a respectable figure in his navy blue suit. His brown hair was just beginning to show some gray. He wore a serious expression most of the time, but his eyes were always kind. He had been the head butler of the palace for five years. Before that, he had been one of her personal servants, as well as her tutor. His favorite subject was history, but he had always done his best to match his lessons to Antigone's more artistic sensibilities. She fondly remembered the days of reading and discussing literature with him, but the Suppression Act had taken that away when she was thirteen.

"How are you doing today, Anti?" the butler asked, calling her by the nickname he had used when she was a child. She wondered absently if either of her younger siblings had nicknames.

"Well enough," she answered. "I don't exactly have anything to do today. I think I'll just sit in the garden. It's supposed to be a lovely day."

Edmund smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He knew what was bothering her. It was the same thing that had been bothering her for ten years.

Antigone had loved the paintings that used to line the walls of the palace. She had loved reading books of all kinds from all around Remnant. She had loved practicing the piano. All of that was gone now, forbidden to her and every other citizen of Mantle. The garden was the only place in the palace that was still beautiful.

Antigone abruptly realized that her sadness was showing on her face. Edmund reached a hand towards the princess to comfort her, but she shook her head and continued eating. She knew that she would start to cry if he embraced her. So the butler simply stood and took his place at the ready behind her.

August 2nd

Ulysses took one more step and was relieved to find the land in front of him sloped downwards. The climb up the mountains had been brutal, but now they'd finally be coming down.

"Come on, hurry up!" he yelled to his platoon. "If we make good time we can reach Renere by nightfall."

Many of his soldiers, and some nearby men from other platoons, groaned at the thought of that much more walking. Ulysses chuckled.

"If you're complaining about marching, you boys are going to have a bad time when we finally reach the front lines!" he shouted to them. He was only four years older than the youngest of them, but he called them boys when they complained.

"Fighting Mistral is what I signed on for, Captain," answered Rowe. "I was looking forward to it! Getting to the fight wasn't really something I thought about at the time."

"You know the funny thing about that?" began Wilson. "If the war hadn't started when it did, the railroads would reach out here by now. But then we wouldn't be going to Renere in the first place."

"Don't really see how that's funny, Corporal," replied Rowe drily.

"It's not really ha-ha funny," Wilson admitted. "Funny in an ironic way."

Ulysses was about to berate them for talking instead of marching, when a horn cut him off. Three quick blasts sounded from the northeast.

"Grimm! Ready yourselves!" yelled Ulysses. He drew his broadsword and leapt on top of a boulder to get a better look around.

He spotted the platoon that had sounded the alarm, towards the front and left of the column of green uniforms. Their eyes and weapons were pointed skywards. As Ulysses watched, a massive Nevermore swooped down and clawed at the men. Its flock was already upon the company.

Ulysses cursed under his breath. His Semblance was no good against flying enemies. But then, his Semblance wasn't the only weapon he had available to him.

As two of the Grimm dove towards the captain's position, he raised his left hand towards them and focused on the green Dust crystal set into his gauntlet. Ulysses closed his eyes for a moment and found his center.

Penelope.

He opened his eyes and unleashed an enormous blast of wind. The gale ripped into the flying Grimm and forced them off course. They swung around and rejoined their flock as it circled the company of soldiers.

"Take aim!" Ulysses yelled to his soldiers. They had already formed up, with the riflemen in lines and the pikers deployed around them defensively.

The captain quickly leapt to the center of the formation and raised his left hand again, concentrating. What he was about to attempt was extremely difficult, and he could only blame himself if it failed. If his timing was slightly off, or if he failed to take every single man's shot into account, he'd only misdirect their shots. His focus had to be perfect.

Penelope.

"Fire!" called Ulysses, and more than just bullets filled the air as his men obeyed. The crystal in the captain's gauntlet synchronized with those in his men's rifles, and the wind directed their shots in a hurricane of death. The Nevermore were sucked into the vortex and torn to shreds by the hail of lead. Nearly half the flock died in that single volley.

Men all around the company cheered, and Ulysses beamed with pride. His men, First Platoon, First Company, Fourth Regiment, Twelfth Division, the Stormcallers, had yet to fail him. Ranged combat was not their forte, but they had performed the Hurricane Barrage perfectly, just as they had trained. Soon they would be known as the finest soldiers in Vale. Their young captain would accept nothing less from them.

August 5th

Rey took half a step back, and Dell's blade fell an inch short of her nose. In the blink of an eye she was advancing again, raising her own glaive and thrusting it into her opponent's chest. Dell's Aura protected her, but it was close to breaking while Rey's was still untouched.

"You overextended yourself on that one," Rey commented as she adjusted her scarlet ponytail.

"I didn't think you'd be able to counterattack so fast," muttered Dell, raising her glaive back into an on guard position.

"Then you underestimated me," Rey pointed out. "That can be lethal."

In place of an answer, Dell took two quick steps forward. She faked with the haft of her weapon, and then launched a sweeping cut at her opponent's waist.

Instead of parrying, Rey leapt over the arc of the cut. She kicked out with her legs and activated her Semblance. Swimming through the air like it was water, she was behind her opponent before the cut was even finished.

Dell spun around as fast as she could, which only made it easier for Rey to trip her with the end of her glaive. Dell tumbled to the ground, and the redhead's blade was at her neck in an instant.

"Rey wins again," announced Captain Tina from the edge of the training room. A few people groaned, but most didn't react at all. It wasn't as if they weren't expecting that.

"That was better than last time," assured Rey as she helped Dell to her feet. Rey glanced around the large open space of the sparring room at the other men and women of the Imperial Guard lined up against the wall in their teal uniforms. She'd already defeated half of them today. Captain Tina was the only one in their unit who could beat her, the only one who stood a chance really. "I'm ready for another round. Anybody else want to get their butt kicked?"

"I think that's enough for today," the captain replied. "You're all dismissed." The others filed out immediately, but Rey walked up to Tina instead.

"This is getting ridiculous," chuckled the officer. "I tell you you're not allowed to parry, and you make it look like you never wanted to in the first place." Then she frowned. "You'd have made captain years ago if it weren't for that attitude of yours."

"I don't know," Rey answered sheepishly. "I don't think I'd be winning so much if it weren't for my attitude."

"I'm serious, Rey," pressed Tina. "His Majesty demands respect and discipline from his protectors. You chatter away about whatever comes to mind, even when you're on duty! I'm embarrassed to put you anywhere a member of the royal family might actually see you."

Rey shrank under her captain's reprimand. She knew that she ought to show more self-control, but there was always so much going on inside her head. She noticed every detail of her surroundings and was constantly forming opinions and judgements. It really was part of what made her such a good fighter and guard.

"OK, I'll try to rein it in," she mumbled. "But it's not like there are going to be any royals judging me in Sanus."

"True," admitted Tina. "But what are the soldiers going to think of an Imperial Guardswoman who isn't even as disciplined as they are?"

"Come on, they'll love me," laughed Rey. She paused for a moment. "I still think it's stupid for us to be going over there. We're the Imperial Guard; we're supposed to guard the Emperor. The city garrison was one thing, but sending us to the frontlines is just crazy."

"These are crazy times," the captain replied. "But it's not as if they're sending the entire Imperial Guard away. The city will be short-handed for a while, but they can handle it. And by the way, criticizing our orders is exactly the kind of disrespect I was talking about. We don't question, we just obey."

Rey shrugged and looked down at her feet.

"Can I go now?" she asked.

"Dismissed," sighed Tina.

Rey was out the door in an instant.

August 1st

Erebus lay on the deck of the VSS Sea Drake, having finally found a spot with just the right amount of shade where he could watch the shore roll by. Soon they'd be deploying into a warzone, and he wanted to enjoy every minute of relaxation he could.

He looked out over the southern coast of Sanus, searching for anything interesting. The beaches certainly weren't capturing his attention. It was hard for someone from Vacuo to be impressed by sand.

The forest was another matter. There was nowhere in Vacuo with that many trees. But in the end they were still just trees, and they weren't exactly doing anything. Erebus searched for some sign of animals, or even Grimm, wandering through the forest. He was disappointed.

Erebus heard laughter and glanced over to where a group of soldiers were sitting around chatting. Some of them were from his platoon, the rest were from the nine other units embarked on the massive transport ship. Erebus considered going over to sit with them, but he had never been very good at small talk. He knew he'd just end up sitting awkwardly at the edge of the group.

Erebus continued looking around the transport. The ship was a massive, steel monster that looked far too heavy to float. Its deck was mostly flat, with the bridge structure and a few turrets providing the only shade. There were a couple of other groups of soldiers spread out around the ship, sitting around and chatting.

As Erebus scanned his surroundings, he spotted a tall Faunus man wandering the deck of the ship out of the corner of his eye. His hair was the same color blond as his floppy dog ears.

"Oliver!" Erebus called, waving his arm. The Faunus' ears twitched before he turned around, which always made Erebus smile. The blond man quickly crossed the deck to where Erebus was sitting.

"What have you been up to?" asked Oliver. "Lazing around all day?"

"I got some training in this morning," Erebus answered. "After that, yes, I've been enjoying some well-earned relaxation."

"It must have been some crazy training to earn all the relaxation you get," teased Oliver, sitting down next to his friend.

"I'm a Dust Devil!" complained Erebus, using the platoon's nickname. "This is what happens when you keep me stuck on a boat for so long."

"The name made a lot more sense when we thought we'd be fighting in Vacuo," admitted the Faunus. He had been the first one to suggest the name Dust Devils. "Maybe now it could mean that we use Dust in battle? And like, we're real devils with it?"

"There's nothing wrong with the name, I was complaining about the situation!" Erebus said quickly.

"Well you won't have to worry about the boat much longer," replied Oliver. "We're set to make landfall in Farhaven later today."

"I know, and it couldn't come soon enough," groaned Erebus. "I can't stand being cooped up with so many other people like this."

"You know the sooner we land, the sooner we start fighting," pointed out the Faunus.

"I signed up to fight," countered Erebus. "After all the threats Mistral and Mantle were throwing around at the start of the war, I'm looking forward to knocking some heads. I thought you were too."

Oliver shrugged."Yeah, I guess. It's not hard to find reasons to hate them, but I don't think I would have joined the army if you hadn't."

"Well, I'm glad you're here," answered Erebus. He felt a strange excitement at the thought that Oliver joined the army for his sake.

The two soldiers sat together for almost an hour, watching the coast drift by. They chatted back and forth intermittently, but neither was afraid to just sit in silence. Eventually, Erebus pointed up ahead, where a lighthouse was coming into view.

"Finally!"

They watched the shore as more of the lighthouse and the town behind it came into view. Then, staring at the stone tower, Oliver began to sing.

"I am a lighthouse, worn by the weather and the waves,

I keep my lamp lit to warn the sailors on their way

I'll tell a story, paint you a picture from my past.

I was so happy, but joy in this life seldom lasts."

As the music stopped, Erebus realized he had been holding his breath. Oliver's singing often had that effect on him, especially when it was unexpected. The Faunus' voice seemed to make the whole world want to stop and listen. Its beauty was almost supernatural, though neither man possessed a Semblance.

"Are you going to finish the song?" asked Erebus hopefully.

"No, it's too sad," Oliver answered. "I just thought of it when I saw the lighthouse." He paused. "I guess that's obvious. Anyways, it's a beautiful song, but it's a real downer."

Erebus considered saying that Oliver leaving a song unfinished was probably a bigger downer, but he held his tongue. He'd known the Faunus man for a long time and knew that he only sang when he wanted to. His voice lost all of its majesty when someone else tried to make him sing. That was part of what made his gift so special.

"If we're landing soon, we'd better get our stuff together," said Erebus. The two soldiers rose and headed for their bunks on the ship.

August 3rd

Zeke sprinted through the forest, glancing to the right occasionally to make sure Tai was still with him. The rest of the regiment had been too slow to keep up, but the two captains were more than enough to finish off the Valean scouting party.

Zeke caught sight of a man in a green uniform fifty yards ahead. As the scout fled, he shot a quick glance back at his pursuers. The Mistralian activated his Semblance in response, and shadows spread to conceal him. The darker his surroundings, the harder it would be to see him, but even in direct sunlight the shadows would make it more difficult to gauge his position.

As soon as the scout turned his gaze back in front of him, Zeke raised his longsword and focused on the yellow Dust crystal set into its pommel. A bolt of lightning shot from the blade and caught the scout square in the back. The electricity made his legs spasm, and he fell to the ground. Zeke was on him in a matter of seconds.

As he was about to bring his sword down, the Valean soldier spun around and swung a dagger at his face. Reacting instantly, Zeke blocked the swing with his forearm and plunged his sword through the scout's chest.

Zeke looked up and saw another scout pointing a pistol at him from twenty yards away. He raised his sword into a defensive stance as the Valean woman unloaded her clip.

As the bullets neared Zeke, he launched into a flurry of quick movements. Keeping his sword close to his body, he blocked each of the bullets with his blade, sending them spinning off into the trees around him.

Zeke grinned at the scout's reaction to that. With all of the flashier aspects of Aura, people often underestimated how much it could enhance a person's speed and strength. Even so, moving that fast had been draining, and Zeke had to pause longer than he wanted to in order to catch his breath.

On the plus side, he'd managed to scare the enemy out of her mind, and she didn't even notice as Tai came out of the trees behind her. He hurled a dagger into her back with astonishing speed.

Tai walked up to Zeke with a smile on his face. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

"I took care of the third one. Blocking her shots like that was awesome."

Zeke shrugged, trying not to look too proud of himself.

"Yeah, I've been training my reflexes for a while. I kind of have to since my Semblance doesn't do much in a head-to-head fight."

Tai laughed as he started walking back the way they had come.

"I still think it makes my Semblance look like crap. Shooting metal at people sounds great until you remember we have guns for that."

Zeke shrugged again as he followed along behind Tai.

"At least yours doesn't depend on how dark it is. Put me in an open field on a sunny day and I barely even have a Semblance."

"Whatever," laughed Tai. "You'd think it was cooler if you weren't comparing it to your father's."

It was hard to argue with that, though he resented how the conversation always turned back to his father. Zeke was respected by everyone in the regiment, and most of them seemed to like him. He wanted to believe that was because of his own merits, but whenever someone mentioned the general he would start to wonder if they were just kissing up.

He thought of something his father had told him when he first joined the army:

"Many will accuse you of benefiting from favoritism because you are my son. You will surpass each and every person who believes this, or you will prove them all right."

Zeke wasn't sure which was more crushing: his father's reputation or his expectations.

Tai noticed his friend's annoyance and quickly changed the subject.

"We'd better get back. Your big mission starts tonight, and you still have to get ready."

Zeke nodded in agreement, both excited and nervous for what was coming.

Author's Note: I thought I should give a little bit of explanation for how this came about. After Ozpin's speech about the Great War in Volume 2, I had a particular idea about what it was and how it ended. Then we got the World of Remnant in Volume 4, and I was seriously disappointed. The idea that the King of Vale just beat up everyone and ended the war seemed to completely undercut the message that I thought this event was supposed to get across. This is my attempt at a more satisfying conclusion to the Great War.

This is my first fanfic, so let me know what you think. In particular, I'd like to know if you want future chapters released the same way as this one, or if I should break them up so that the five characters' stories are in separate chapters.

Thanks for reading!