It was common but sad when Grimm seized a lone person in the snow blinds. It was rarer and more tragic when people turned on each other.
The blizzard that cast its blanket over Atlas left behind a crimson stain. And for a family in a castle, alone on their hill, the cold became that much less bearable.
The report of the death was addressed to Castle Schnee, penned by a friendly hand, and handed by security to the master of the house.
Mr. Jacque Schnee had restricted outside communication for the sake of the holidays. He didn't care to open another card.
But he'd also grown tired of his daughter's excuses. Weiss was nine and already talking as much as her older sister. The inanity- the disrespect, made her hard to focus on.
"Practicing is boring," Weiss whined.
He thought the frustration was unbearable. Then he opened the letter.
His monocle fell and jangled on its chain, and the letter fell from a shaking hand.
Weiss knew, from his expression, to stop talking. Jacque gripped her by the shoulder and, with a rough push, made her about-face. Another nudge between her shoulders put her in front of a full-length mirror.
He shouted. "Look at yourself! This is your birthright! Like a Faunus, you are born into a position, and you cannot escape it! You are what you are, and if you fail to be that, you will die!"
She folded a lip under her teeth, and one hand into another. She found her father's eyes in the mirror.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered.
Weiss was diminutive beside him. Her older sister, Winter, had developed muscle at this age. Weiss was a pudgy skeleton. She'd inherited the family's striking albino hair, but none of their other, more intimidating, features.
She didn't know what she'd done to provoke him. She knew he didn't like whining. He didn't like when she evaded practice. But she'd never seen him berserk over those topics before.
Jacque tried to swallow his rage. When the lump finally went down his throat, he growled, "I suppose Schwarz was bored in his studies as well! He's just been murdered in the street by a handful of Faunus thugs! Dammit! DAMNIT!"
His hand accompanied the outburst, crushing a vase against the wall. The pain of glass shards in his hand was temporary. It faded as soon as his aura pushed them out and closed the wound. But his brother would be gone forever. By an act of discipline, his composure returned, and he was reminded of what he could do. He squared his shoulders and placed a hand on his daughter.
"Your studies are a matter of life and death. If that bores you, I can disown you and give you a safe, comfortable job in the CCT."
She was too young to fully comprehend the consequences. Her eyes lit up, tempered by a vague and untrained caution.
"The Cross-Continental Transmitter?"
She looked hopefully over her shoulder to him, like a sloth finding a fruit on the branch above.
He said, "Yes. Now look in the mirror."
Weiss squared her shoulders, and she channeled her excitement into studious attentiveness.
He said, "Repeat after me: 'Welcome to the CCT. How may I direct you?'"
Weiss did not obey. She thought, tried to understand, and asked, "Why would the overseer practice saying that?"
"You're practicing to be the receptionist," Mr. Schnee explained, "And if you won't practice with your weapon, then I expect you to excel at your new role. Now, practice. I will evaluate you in ten minutes."
He turned on his heel and left her there. He heard her recital beginning, and tuned out the sound of her voice. He was oblivious when she stopped and snuck after him.
Mr. Schnee found his wife in the parlor. Nival always busied herself with inspection and introspection. Her hands traversed a vase to inspect a wilted flower. Her eyes followed the snowflakes buffeting the windows. The Schnee Estate was blanketed in that soft silence.
"There's someone coming up the road," she noted.
Mr. Schnee looked past her, through the window, to the far hill. Traveling lights announced an automobile no more than ten minutes out from the driveway.
"Schwarz is dead," he murmured. "No doubt someone's coming to console us."
Nival saw his reflection in the window, his pain, and she turned to support him. She comforted his cheek with a delicate hand.
"I heard. I can prepare a bouquet for Violet."
"She's gone, too."
She hesitated. It was foolish of her to forget. Tragedies come in threes.
Jacques' eyes had steeled on another topic. "Faunus," he muttered.
"Is it another... Large attack? Should we-"
"The Shadow Pact. All of them. So they can't be here." He wrapped his arms around her.
"It's nothing that should get me so worked up this time," he admitted.
"You can mourn the loss of family without excuse," she murmured.
Her eyes shot up to his from the hug. "But you do owe Weiss an apology. You lost your temper with her. She thinks she's done something wrong."
She waited for Jacque to nod in agreement, then proceeded to praise. "I see the bunk beds have been erected. Have you told her yet?"
"No. It should be a surprise. Weiss passed the entrance exams for combat school. Barely, but she passed. And Apple is completing her thesis at the Academy in Mountain Glenn. So they've earned it."
The distraction was welcome. His head shook, and he released his wife to look her in the eye.
"Of all the things. Bunk beds?"
"Well… Apple is only fourteen, and Weiss is nine, and… They like each other. They want to have bunks together."
"But how could they decide on a thing like that before they've even met?"
He let confusion draw him away from the pain. His wife smiled.
"Honey, Weiss has been alone since Winter left for Leadership Academy. When Weiss learned her cousin would be coming here, she looked like the whole world had been gifted to her. She said she hoped it was forever."
"It is now."
"And don't you breathe a word about their deaths when Apple gets here. She'll have been told enough already."
"I know. It seems family has to be guarded more jealously than gold in these times. Still... To have the simple worries of a child. Bunk beds," he scoffed.
"We live in a castle," his wife reminded him. "It can be lonely."
The doorbell sounded.
"And guests," she continued, "even mourners, are a welcome treat."
She pulled him to the door, where they greeted two officers.
Nival recognized, "James?"
She turned her confusion to her husband.
Mr. Schnee looked at his friend, Captain James Ironwood, and was just as surprised.
"James, I thought you were engaged at the State Department- at the Capitol, I mean. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
Ironwood and his secondary stepped into the foyer. They wore full dress, and the secondary carried an ornate box in both hands.
Ironwood said, "Good evening, Mr. Schnee, and Misses."
The Schnees looked at the box, then back to Ironwood. Mr. Schnee nodded.
"I'm sorry to steal your thunder, Captain, but I've already heard about Schwarz. You are welcome to stay. I would greatly appreciate the company."
There was silence while Captain Ironwood thought. He was navigating the tact of an unforeseen situation.
"Would it be alright if we sat down?" he suggested.
They returned to the parlor and demanded privacy from the servants. Jacque could tell the old injuries were still bothering his friend. Captain Ironwood never relaxed his posture, and always sat favoring his haunches to his tailbone.
Ironwood's right pant leg rested thinner than the left, and his right shoulder didn't heave with his breaths. A patch of skin had never fully regrown on his right brow, where his dura-steel skull was visible like a badge. Otherwise, the uniform hid his cybernetic half very well.
It was when they seated that Mr. Schnee's mind caught up. His eyes found the lapel on Ironwood, and he realized aloud, "Goodness. Are you a Major now?"
Ironwood nodded. "Yes, Sir. As of yesterday."
"Well, at least we have some good news to-"
"-Sir."
Jacque's mouth snapped shut, and he understood, finally, what was happening.
"The Secretary of the Ambassadorial Administration has asked me to express deep regret that your niece, Apple Schnee, was killed in action in Mountain Glenn this morning during an attack by creatures of Grimm."
Mr. Schnee covered his mouth. He was able to break eye contact with Major Ironwood and look at the box on the table.
Nival cried out as if struck a mortal blow, and desperately gripped her husband.
Jacque coped with outrage. "Those Grimmdamned Vale Huntsmen aren't up to spec! She was working in the core of the city! She was- Am I right?! Ironwood, where was she?!"
Ironwood had gathered everything that was known in the last hour. "Mr. Schnee, the Kingdom of Vale signaled distress over the CCT network at oh-four-hundred this morning. Due to the severity of the threat, Mountain Glenn began a voluntary evacuation. Atlas immediately began to evacuate Ambassadorial staff. While most personnel were at the embassy, your niece was not. You may remember that the Mountain Glenn expansion was centered on a subnode of the CCT network. The Small Tower. The Embassy's Special Retinue Service found her there, and returned her to the Embassy. I have spoken personally with Captain Gray, the military commander at the embassy. He was sitting next to your niece on the last bullhead to leave. He says your niece leaped from the craft during takeoff and could not be safely recovered."
"She..."
Too many questions. Jacque wrapped his arms around his wife and buried her tears in his chest.
"But... She… She fell from the craft? She's a Huntress, James! She has an aura! Do not tell me she died from a fall! I refuse to believe it!"
Ironwood wore a strange expression. He was trying to convey sympathy. He was hiding fear.
"Have you checked the news today, Sir?"
"No. It's the Vytal festival. I... We like to keep this time for family."
Ironwood licked his lips and swallowed. "Sir, Mountain Glenn's defenses were overwhelmed at ten this morning. Vale CCT has been non-responsive since then. At 1530, the Evacuated Embassy staff arrived in the Capitol and I was notified. And now we're here."
Weiss stepped up to the table.
Ironwood leaned back, startled at her appearance. She was almost in his lap, staring intently at the ornate box.
She pointed. "What's that?"
Ironwood presented it to her. "Captain Gray attempted to stop your cousin when she fled the craft. She was wearing a necklace."
He revealed it, a petite crystal chain bearing an apple charm.
Mr. Schnee leaned forward into Ironwood's space. "James, you said the soldiers had to leave. Why? Why aren't they looking for her?"
Ironwood had lowered his gaze to Weiss. It took him a great effort to raise his eyes to Mr. Schnee. The Major could no longer hide it. His pupils were gathered as tiny dots. Every hair on his body stood on end.
"We received our first reconnaissance report at 1300 today, when a Vacuo scout team returned. There are more Grimm in Mountain Glenn than there are humans in the whole of Remnant. Their motions are coordinated. As of now, it appears that the Grimm have organized and mobilized."
He swallowed again, waiting for Schnee to understand.
Nival whimpered, "James, are you saying...? Are you saying that Mountain Glenn is overrun?"
Ironwood set the box on the table and straightened his uniform. "Until we hear otherwise, the military is assuming the worst. Vale has fallen."
And with it, a whole quarter of the globe.