Nora did not mourn for the fall of the kingdoms. She couldn't mourn for them, not when they'd turned their backs on the very people they were trying to protect. Not when they'd abandoned the civilians to a fate that could've been avoided—death at the hands of the Grimm.

It was not the first time the people in charge of the kingdoms had left behind their duty, but despite that, she would not leave hers behind.

Following Jaune's death, it had been difficult for her and Ren to continue hunting the Grimm. The loss reminded them both of Pyrrha's death and stole from them the person they'd considered their leader and their best friend. Without Jaune, old wounds were reopened. They mourned once more for the teammate who'd fallen years ago along the way as well as for their selfless leader who didn't deserve the death he'd received.

But the Grimm were growing in numbers and every day, more Huntsmen and Huntresses fell. They'd watched Coco Adel being torn apart in a mess of blood and bones, had seen Neptune Vasilias fall to his death off the edge of a chasm while trying to protect his friends, and couldn't shake the memories of Professor Port and Professor Oobleck fighting back-to-back until they were outnumbered and outmatched, unable to fight the barrage of monsters any longer and subjected to gruesome deaths they did not deserve either.

Some nights, Nora swore she could still hear every single one of them scream.

It became increasingly clear that she could not turn her back on the people, even if those same people had turned their back on the Huntsmen and Huntresses.

Once Jaune's sisters were safe and sound in a proper refuge set up by some older workers and some volunteers who no longer had work elsewhere, she and Ren left. The sisters were still mourning, and though she wanted to stay and help them get through it, she had things to do elsewhere. There was more work to be done.

There would always be more work to be done, and fewer people to do it.

"You have that look on your face again," Ren mentioned as they headed on foot to the next town over. An incoming message that morning had warned of an imminent Grimm attack on a small farming town less than two hours away from the refuge, and they'd decided to go and help out there. "Hollow. What are you thinking about?"

Leave it to him to be able to read me, she thought. "The towns. The people. Our friends. Everything." Giving the road before them one last look, she stopped and turned towards him. "Do you think they're alright? RWBY?" Out of all the teams formed in their first year—around twenty of them or so—RWBY was one of the few teams whose numbers were intact. Sure, they bore the scars of past trauma, but at least all four were still alive. For now.

"I think they're capable of surviving," he replied without stopping or slowing down. "I think you should worry less. They're fine. They're strong."

His pace and longer strides forced Nora to jog a little in order to catch up and reach his side once more. "So were the others." So was Pyrrha. So was Jaune. And look at what happened to them. She didn't need to speak the words for Ren to hear them, loud and clear. His face darkened and she immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't say anything." He shut his eyes and took deep breaths. "You're not to blame."

She tried being comforting the way she usually did in situations like this one—placing a hand on his arm, giving him a smile—but he brushed her away.

The rest of the walk was dreadfully silent, with only the sound of their footsteps against the dirt road and their shallow breaths keeping her from going insane. She longed for a normal conversation. With Ren in a constant state of emotional turmoil, it was difficult to discuss anything the way they once had in the past. Their relationship had come to a grinding halt, and with every passing day she found herself slipping further and further from him, falling down an involuntary slope that only tore them both apart. It was a painful thought, thinking of the possibility that they'd never be close the way they once had, and she set it aside as the town appeared before her.

"Look!" she called with a forced cheery tone. "There's an inn right there, and it doesn't seem like any Grimm have gotten here yet. We can still save this place, Ren. These people still have a chance."

He shook his head, and she followed his gaze to the fence lining the town. It was torn down and crushed along with the trees that bordered it. Splinters were jabbed at precarious angles into the ground, some with familiar red splatters across the rotting wood. The town still stood, but they'd arrived too late once more. There was nothing they could do but search for survivors and help out the injured.

From next to the inn, a figure dressed in poorly stitched clothing and sporting an unkempt beard motioned then towards the building. She and Ren exchanged a look but followed him into the foyer. It was cheaply decorated and smelled of farm, but she didn't expect much more and didn't need anything else, either. It was a comfort to simply have a safe place to assess the damage.

"Please, take a seat." The innkeeper nodded towards a table that leaned a little too much to one side. "I'll be right with you."

While Nora took the opportunity and sat down right when he offered, Ren was a little more cautious, scanning the inn and checking the table twice before taking a seat next to her. Neither spoke as they waited for the man to return.

He did so within minutes, holding two bowls of what appeared to be chunky stew. "You can eat while I'm talkin'," he said. "I know your type, and you're always eatin', always hungry. I also know that you can help us. Let me tell you what happened before you got here.

"Nobody was expectin' it, of course—you never really expect Grimm attack till it hits and you're in the middle of it. Was a bunch of the snake ones, at least four of them, and we only had two Huntsmen in town at the time. They got two of them down but two are still around here, waitin' to strike. Our Huntsmen—they're wounded and can't fight. We need your help. Please."

She didn't hesitate to give him a nod and finish the stew. "I'll help." Though Ren didn't speak, she saw him offer the innkeeper a nod as well.

The man thanked them for everything and promised payment, which they turned down, assuring him that it was their duty to help out. He locked himself back in the inn, leaving them to find their way around the town. As they walked, Nora's eyes landed on a pair of children huddled around the back of the inn, covered in a ratty blanket and shivering from the cold. It was late autumn and with the changing seasons, far too cold for them to be out like that.

Orphans, she thought as Ren continued past without so much as a second glance. Her hand shot out and wrapped around his arm. "Let's take them to the inn and convince our new friend to give them shelter, some food. We can bargain and say that it's a fair trade for our help."

"We need to stop these Grimm first," he replied. "They're the priority."

"You know these kids won't survive out here like this—it's getting darker and colder, and they have nothing but that blanket. There's no way we can just leave them here," she argued. "The Grimm can wait, at least for a few minutes."

He turned on the ball of his foot to face her, his expression still calm but impatient. "I am not going to risk an entire town for a pair of orphans, Nora. I am not going to take my chances with this. If we wait to stop them, we are endangering everyone here. We would be taking a chance that could lead to more orphans, to more families being torn apart. I, for one, am not willing to take that chance."

"They're innocents, Ren. We were orphans, left on the street, we can't just—"

At that, his expression changed from calm impatience to something furious. "Don't use that in your argument. We were orphans because they left the Grimm roaming around long enough to make us orphans. I am not making the same mistakes they did. If you want to stay here, waste your time and risk that, go ahead. I'm going to save a town."

She didn't watch him storm off, instead brushing away the new tears that sprung from his harsh words. Offering one hand to each of the orphans, she led them to the inn.

Before she could knock on the large doors, the sound of wood snapping and of screaming found her. Grimm.

The children knew to run as she drew Magnhild. Her eyes scanned the area around the inn, finally landing on a two-headed snake approaching the fence. From what she knew about this species of Grimm, they weren't usually found around here at all. But it wasn't the time to wonder how it had gotten there. She needed to act.

Using the rest of the town's chaos as a distraction, she ran towards the Grimm and attacked, only to be knocked away by a strong sweep that sent her flying into a tree. She barely had the time to dive away before it lunged at her, each sharp fang coated in a venom she hadn't been warned of in her studies. The thought of the agonizing pain it probably would cause sent shivers down her spine and momentarily distracted her from the next lunging attack, which she narrowly avoided.

The fight quickly fell into a pattern, mostly consisting of Nora dodging the lunging attacks from both heads and searching for an opening to attack as well, to no avail. The most she could do was draw it away from the town, and she tried her best to do so, aiming several shots from Magnhild at the Grimm's long body to distract it. It followed her outside the fence and across the road to open countryside on the other end.

Seconds turned to minutes, and she struggled to find an opening. Each time she managed to push back one head, the other shot towards her and forced her to reconsider her actions.

Familiar shots rang out, drawing her eyes away from the Grimm and instead towards Ren, who was coming towards her at full speed.

"I've got the white head, you get the other one!" she called to him, glad for the help. His arrival was a distraction and before she knew it—

Pain filled her side, spreading quickly. She pushed it back, gripping Magnhild with both hands. They had one shot at getting it down. She couldn't let a bit of pain get to her. It wasn't the first time she'd been hurt in the fray and it wouldn't be the last time.

Ren had made quick work of the black head. "Distract it, Nora!"

The snake head turned back to her as he used his Semblance to mask himself a little better. Attacking with the ranged form of the hammer, though, was much more difficult with Ren around. She didn't want to accidentally hit him. Every shot she fired went wide. She wasn't going to risk it.

When the second head fell to the ground as well and the snake's body slumped down, Nora did the same. She felt weak and the pain was spreading through her side once more, tearing through her body at an alarming rate. Ren seemed to notice and sped over to her, scooping her in his arms with a worried frown.

"Did it bite—"

She nodded. "Yeah. And poisoned me. We got it down, though. We got them both down and the town is safe," she murmured with a faint smile. "No more orphans."

"You're going to be okay, I promise you you'll be alright." He sounded desperate. Scared. "We got help for Qrow, we can easily get help for you."

"We were in a big city then," she weakly reminded him. "Here—there's nothing here." With one hand, she pulled him closer. "But there's you and me, right? That's how it's always been. We don't need anybody else right now. All I need to know is that you're here, Ren."

He chuckled, but she could tell it was forced and unnatural. He wanted to comfort her. "You make it seem like you aren't going to survive. But you need to survive. I can't…" I can't lose you, too.

"You'll always have me," she promised, leaning up to kiss him.

Neither of them rushed it. A soft, sweet kiss for their last one was fitting, she thought. Her free hand weaves through his hair, recalling every time she'd wanted to touch it and hadn't gotten the chance to. He was gentle as ever, holding her as though she'd shatter.

The poison was quick. She closed her eyes tight as the pain became overwhelming and fought back screams of agony. Through the pain she heard him say he'd always be hers.

And then there was nothing.