A/N
Hey guys! I'm trying something a bit new here. This is going to be a darker topic than what's going on with A Crack in the Ice. For one, this isn't fluff feel good shipping. This is going to get dark, gritty and bloody. If that's not your thing, awesome! Feel free to stop reading here. However, if you want to continue on, I hope you enjoy the first part of this story.
They say that at the end of the darkest night, light will rise. The sun will crest the twilight and the day will start anew, as a symbol of hope, for those foolhardy enough to believe in such nonsense. People take comfort in the light, because the light reveals the known. They hide behind that guise as though the warmth will protect them from their problems. A belief in such brightness to cure the pains they suffer or the despair that overwhelms them.
How utterly ridiculous.
Lights are nothing but fleeting aspirations to be crushed, for those that burn the brightest also burn the shortest. Nothing more than a lie the authorities use to keep the masses in check or have the constant fear and panic destroy these so called havens. Light has no more substance than those fickle hopes people hold onto so dearly.
But light has the potential to turn into something greater: flame. When left unchecked and allowed to smolder, light will spark a flame stronger than any optimism, any hope, and any dream. It brings all of them together in a grand display of expectations only to be consumed as fuel for the bonfire. The result is a blaze strong enough to engulf the world, leaving nothing behind but a trail of broken souls with crushed prospects and ash.
When the blaze is but embers and ruins, the light will be no more. The dark will assume its rightful place over the world, seating itself on a throne vacated for so long. Darkness will creep over the remnants of the destruction, infiltrating spaces that were denied for so long. Shadows that nipped at the heels of the light overtake areas now barren of the comforting glow. A glorious sight, as people who hid from unknown void are consumed in the complete blackout.
Those people are fools. To seek shelter from the darkness? Pointless. Do they not realize that within its embrace, they can mold their own reality? For in the dark, the mind shapes any path desired away from the prying eyes who fear that power. In the light, what's known is known. Creativity stifled by authority. The status quo refuses to budge. Within the depths of the black cloak, any desire can be achieved. The darkness is more fulfilling that the light ever was. The possibilities are endless.
I had been blind for so long, sheltered from by those who "cared" for me. What a joke. They left me alone, when I needed comfort. They abandoned me when I needed them most, too caught up in their own business. I wanted vengeance for the events that transpired, only to be chided back into due diligence and told to let others handle the situation. I seethed on my hatred. I wanted to be released.
I was nothing until she freed me. I struggled against the freedom she brought to me. I called it corruption, unable to comprehend the thoughts she whispered to me. I screamed to be saved, not realizing she was the one saving me. She showed me the realities of the world and the harshness buried behind closed doors. My eyes opened under her guidance; her tutelage answered questions others left refused to acknowledge.
I know who I am now. A crimson reaper reforged under her fire, bringing the world my master's eternal nightfall.
With Torchwick locked up by General Ironwood, Cinder's plan progressed as smoothly as she originally predicted. Atlas overreacted, moving a majority of their fleet toward Beacon to secure the tournament site. In reality, it was nothing more than a show of strength that inadvertently caused the Atlas forces to be spread even thinner. Yet, there had been a slight adjustment in her scheme moving forward.
Even though he was somewhat of a dimwit, Torchwick was another able body that could hold his own in a fight. While his loss was not pivotal, a replacement needed to be found to fill the gap. With the tournament progressing, Cinder thought she would have an easy time picking out a young huntsman or huntress to stand with her in the coming days. After all, the youth are easily turned against those they trust when their ideals and beliefs are thrown for a loop. All it takes is a seed of doubt, easily planted with a silver tongue.
Cinder rose from her seat in the stadium, an empty popcorn bowl dangling from her hand. She watched the tournament in hope of finding new talent, but was sorely disappointed when the matches were less than thrilling. Not that her hopes were lofty. Ultimately, she pulled the strings of this combative puppet show. The matches the fans watched were nothing more than advancing a plan she meticulously worked on.
She knew to be patient from previous attempts at this sort of power play, although nothing at this scale. After the incident in Vacuo, Cinder was in no rush. Never play the hand first dealt and be willing to lose chips until the payoff. Study the players at the table, read their tells and abuse them. Render what advantages they think are there useless and carefully eliminate each one from the game. After all this was nothing more a game to Cinder. The glory was never gained in one decisive round but a slow incremental grind. Gains and losses would litter the way to the storybook finish.
Simple concepts that many people refused to grasp. That's what made this time different from the others. Cinder wasn't learning the game as she went along, making grave errors at each juncture. Here, Cinder wrote the rules while the rest of Vale, Atlas, the Huntsman, and even her own accomplices worked to piece together what tale she weaved from the shadows.
As she exited the stadium toward the fairground, Cinder caught sight of something peculiar. Mint green hair stood out as she spotted Emerald talking with a familiar face, a short girl with red hair. A girl who had caused considerable problems for Cinder's plan and accelerated her breach at Vale. Across from her subordinate was none other than Ruby Rose, who seemed to be locked in some sort of excited engagement with Emerald. After working with her for so long, Cinder read through Emerald's fake demeanor enough to know she was clearly annoyed. Ruby's upbeat and bubbly attitude was wearing Emerald's patience thinner by the minute, but thankfully for both the conversation ended as the parties went separate ways.
A small smirk formed on Cinder's face. Maybe she had been looking in the right places after all, but too focused on the other competitors. After all, Ruby was one of the most gifted young students at Beacon. The potential of her was near limitless, if under the correct guidance. An idea slowly formed in Cinder's mind as the details worked themselves out. A delicious little scheme if pulled off. Sometimes, Cinder knew that the chips fall as they may and she would accept the lumps that came afterwards. But this? Cinder had played this game long enough to recognize that if dealt a royal flush, the correct line isn't to go all in. No, that would be a dead giveaway to the intent. Rather, feign a lesser hand and surprise them when they were sure victory was within reach. In the end, watch with joy as they toil in despair as their most precious chips are lost.
And what a fitting chip to take. The fall of Ruby Rose. How delightful.
The training room was quiet, save for a blur of red and black that fiercely attacked the practice dummies with deft strikes from Crescent Rose. Watching the young Rose go through her exercises was akin to watching a ballet, each strike and movement almost predetermined as part of a routine. The fluidity of her scythe movements showcased years of practice, a true dance of death.
Scythe users were rare. Her mentor and uncle Qrow was one of the few who meddled with such an item. The weapon itself did not lend many advantages outside of the culling of groups of Grimm. With modifications, a high caliber rifle covered long range encounters while providing additional movement on the battlefield. At medium range, Ruby was able to handle hordes of Grimm at ease simply from master of her unique weapon. But in close? She could block, but unable to truly hold her own against another skilled opponent. Qrow had modified his scythe to be closer to a greatsword, only transforming when he truly needed the extra power. Ruby had not gotten to this advancement of her weapon
Which is why she was here in the training room rather than preparing herself for the doubles round of the Vytal tournament. Team RWBY decided to send both Yang and Weiss to advance, leaving Blake and Ruby to watch from the stands. While elated her team made it to the next round, she couldn't help but feel disappointment at not being able to take part. The decision was a correct one, one that she could not argue against nor wanted to argue. Weiss and Yang were the most versatile of the four, able to cover each other's weaknesses with enhancing their combat efficiency. Yang's expertise in close and medium range combat would be complimented nicely by Weiss's dust use at a safe distance.
Against all common sense, Ruby was still frustrated and rather than create a tense situation within the team, she chose to come to the training room to blow off some steam.
As she lowered her weapon to holster, waves of thoughts washed over her. She should have been in the next round as team leader. She could have trained harder to be more useful to her team. Self doubt and pity filled her head as she walked to a bench to grab the rest of her gear when she heard light clapping behind her. Startled, Ruby let out a yelp and jumped at the sudden noise.
"Quite the show, Ruby was it?" complimented Cinder, who sat on the opposite side of the room.
Ruby let out a sigh of relief at the sight, but couldn't quite remember where she had seen the stranger. "Ha, thanks. Scared me there. Wasn't expecting anyone else to be here."
"Didn't mean to frighten you. I hoped to get some training in myself, but it seems you beat me to it," replied Cinder. "By the way, impressive win earlier. I take it you're preparing for the doubles round?" A question to which Cinder already knew the answer.
"I… uhh. No." Her voice faltered slightly in response, a hint of sadness present. "Nope! Not me." Ruby finally remembered where she had seen the young woman. She was part of the team from Haven that got lost on the way to the dorms. And their match earlier. She winced at the memory of the short girl in black stomping on her opponent. An impressive, but brutal, victory.
"Such a shame, you clearly are skilled enough from what I just watched," smiled Cinder. "I was down here to do the same. I'm not moving on to the next round either."
Something in Cinder's voice calmed the huntress, setting her mind at ease. "Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. I thought you were quite good too… I never did catch your name." Ruby walked over to where Cinder was and extended a hand. "I'm Ruby! But you already seem to know that, heh."
"Pleasure Ruby. My name's Ember," said Cinder as she grasped Ruby's hand in a firm shake. "I have a feeling we're going to be good friends.
A/N
And that's chapter 1! How'd you like it? Terrible? Awesome? Just ok? Let me know by leaving reviews, favoriting, following and all that jazz. This is going to update less frequently than Ice because I have a lot I want to plan out with this story and make sure it's done right. Thanks again for reading!