Salem listened attentively to Watts report. Cinder had acquired part of the Fall Maiden's power - involuntarily, she remembered Tara's soft smile - but had been attacked by Qrow Branwen, preventing them from taking the rest.

"Amber has most likely been taken to Beacon," Watts finished.

"Ozpin's lair," Hazel growled, a noticeable edge to his voice when he said the name of his sister's killer. "He's hiding her away somewhere to recuperate."

"No," Salem said, shaking her head. "The Fall Maiden had been drained of half her power. Such a process would place a great strain on the body and soul."

"So, what has become of the young Maiden?" Tyrian giggled.

Salem was about to dwell on that when she felt a familiar chill. She sighed, rising from her seat. The three men around her followed suit, but the glances exchanged between Hazel and Watts left no doubt they suspected something was wrong. Arthur had probably picked up on the subtle tension in her limbs.

"We shall discuss that later," she said coolly, "for now, you are all dismissed. Soon, Beacon shall fall and the Relic of Choice shall be ours."

They left her alone, to do who knew what. Everyone had a hobby, and evidently, her father's spirit was showing up at random.

"Loyal servants," he remarked as he stepped into the room, materializing from almost nothing. He didn't have his helmet with him this time. "A fine thing for anyone to have. However, a little discipline would do them some good."

"You and I have very different interpretations of that word," Salem said coldly.

"Which one?" Balor smirked at her, before chuckling as his spirit walked around the room. He turned from her, looking outside at the former land of the God of Destruction. The small twitch of his finger made Salem smile. He was still jealous, the pathetic rat. A god had once lived here, and another had taken his place - only, it wasn't him.

"You already know," Salem said, taking a seat. "Tell me, when will you get bored of these visits?"

"When I see either you or Ozma broken and dead. Hopefully, both, while mankind burns and the animals are butchered."

"How you ever managed to remain in this world even after your death, I have long since decided not to learn. After all, look what has become of you."

Balor turned sharply to her, glaring. "I am your father and you will-"

"My father?" Salem scoffed. "Please. You were insistent that simply because we were related by blood, you owed me not an ounce of respect. But whenever I disrespect you now, you turn around and adopt the complete opposite position."

"Your point?!" Balor pouted. Salem rolled her eyes.

"I shouldn't have to tell you that either," she said.

"I should have done worse to my granddaughters," he growled, causing Salem to narrow her eyes at him, "I dearly wish I could have skinned them alive."

He was, of course, referring to when he first manifested as a spirit. It was a night that she'd never forget.

"Mommy," Brigit had said in a hushed whisper, "I had a nightmare."

Salem had been reading letters from her generals about the conquest of Remnant when her daughter had come into the room. Ozma was attending to the diplomatic side of the wars and thus wasn't present for this conversation. Salem had decided not to tell him of it, and given his later betrayal, she knew it had been the right choice.

"Come here," Salem said, smiling as she set down the letter and gestured for Brigit to come to her. She did, but she wouldn't stop looking over her shoulder. She stopped directly next to her, looking up with eyes full of pure terror.

That had given Salem pause. She had never seen such pure terror in any child's eyes. Seeing it in her own daughter's, she had felt something primal. A drive to ensure Brigit never felt it ever again.

"Tell me about this nightmare," Salem said, stroking Brigit's hair.

"It was dark," Brigit began, "and the moon wasn't broken. I was in a castle and could hear Tara, Ostara, and June. I tried to follow their voices, but I couldn't find them anywhere."

"What did this castle look like?" Salem asked, looking deeply into her daughter's eyes. "Did you see anything decorating the walls?"

A shudder passed over Bridgit before she answered. "Well...there were...things. Hanging on the wall...they looked like...well..." Brigit held up her hand and pinched the skin of it between her fingers. "Like people's skin but with...nothing inside them."

Salem's eyes widened. She had seen the very same thing in father's castle whenever he allowed her to have a quiet walk. He had wanted to show her his 'trophies'. He often lamented not being able to bring along the corpses filled to the brim with wax, or sometimes, molten gold. Salem had never cared for that. She had enjoyed those walks when they weren't focusing on his pointless cruelty and more about bonding between father and daughter.

"Anything else?" she asked hurriedly.

"Well...I tried to find my sisters...they were screaming and crying...I'm sorry mother, you always said I'm supposed to watch over them, but I wasn't able to...he was chasing me..."

"Who?" Salem interrupted heart racing. "Who was?"

Brigit's lip quivered, as she tried to summon the strength to tell her mother. "He wore black armor...he didn't have any hair and was missing an eye...he called me bad names, said he would eat me alive and make my sisters watch...and he said...he said..."

"What?" Salem whispered, face drawn back in disbelief.

"That he was our grandfather. And he hated you. That he'd eat us one by one after cutting off our arms and legs, but make sure we all lived to see him take away your and father's skins, then he'd burn us all alive but save you for last."

Salem had listened to this with mute horror, and Brigit could see it. Her daughter had come hoping her mother would protect her, but to see her scared after explaining the whole adventure...

"How are your sisters?"

Bridgit sniffled, wiping her eyes.

"Bridgit, where are they?!"

"They had the same nightmare." she answered quietly, "None of us want to go back to sleep. If we do...grandfather will get us..."

Salem stood up, taking her daughter's hand. Wordlessly, they went to find her other daughters. All the while, Salem had been reeling from this revelation.

How? How could her father still be in this world? The gods hadn't allowed Ozma to return to preserve their 'balance' but what was so different about her father?! What kind of power could have done this?!

When she found June, Tara, and Ostara, they had been hiding together under a blanket, shaking. The moment she opened the door and pulled back the blanket, they had first shrunk back, as if expecting some monster, but that had lasted only a second.

She cradled each and every one of them in her arms as they sobbed, whimpering about their grandfather and how he was going to eat them.

Salem remembered that part very vividly.

"If I'm not mistaken," she said to her father, now back in the present, "you started eating brains before your demise, correct?"

Balor snorted. "What of it?"

"Well, now I know why you began hallucinating," Salem replied, smirking. "It's amazing what modern medicine can do. For example, do you know what happens to someone who consumes human flesh? Specifically, the brain? You increase your prion count. And by doing so, some of the cells in your brain begin functioning incorrectly. You develop holes in the brain and your mind begins to deteriorate. You become forgetful and have seizures. Within six to twelve months, you die."

Balor's single eye widened as she recounted symptoms he himself had experienced. Directly after he became a cannibal. "I was a good king once," he spat out when she finished. "I forged a kingdom of strength and valor."

"Which was destroyed because you ate a prince who wanted my hand. I have seen many promising rulers start off remarkable before going insane and leaving their lands a wreck. But none of them come close to my own father. You did forge a kingdom and within your own lifetime, sealed its fate. I am aware most go mad from power, as you did, but none ate a prince and then tried to wipe out his kingdom. But you seriously didn't think anything would happen. That there would be no consequences?"

"I would have won!" Balor declared, "I would have crushed all you opposed me! My power was able to level the mountains at a glance!"

"But your mind was dulled by it. Ironic. The stronger you became, the more your wits died."

"Wits?" Balor scoffed, "I needed none. Power is all that matters."

"And that didn't bring you victory." Salem pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing, but kept her gaze on her father's ghost. "Have you anything else to say?"

"Yes. Why didn't you go mad?" Balor smirked, pacing towards her. "You have often taken pride in your will, the one you claim your mother gave you. Yet I still drove her mad. So, how did you not? Perhaps...you already are?"

At the mention of her mother, Salem involuntarily recalled one of her most cherished memories.

It had been on her tenth birthday when Balor's madness first began to settle in. On that day, he had ridden out to deal with some bandits but ended up burning two villages. The moment her mother had learned of this, she had confronted him, demanding he explained his actions. Whatever her father had said, however, it had driven her mother to do something drastic.

She had given her something. A jewel, one which Salem had held onto until she had finally been freed. Mother had been very clear it would protect her from all harm as long as she held onto it.

Unfortunately, the passage of time distorted the memories she tried to cherish, yet her father's spirit made every effort to preserve the ones she wished to discard. All she truly remembered of that time was her mother had given a jewel which protected her from all harm as long as it was hers. She didn't remember what had become of the jewel or how it had protected her. Perhaps if she hadn't discarded it, it would have protected her from the gods' curse? After all, she longed since realized it had kept her mind safe from the worst of her father's actions, preserving her sanity in that hell. How, she didn't know, but it had. As she herself had learned, a mother's love was a powerful thing.

Of course, she would never tell her father that. One little victory for her mother, making sure Balor would never know how a woman had bested him.

If only she could remember those lovely poems.

"Well?!" Balor shrieked, grinding his teeth.

"I'll tell you when you explain why your spirit still lingers in this world."

Balor only glared at her, before turning around. Ah yes, like the pouting child he was, he was so angry he wouldn't even look at. "Fortunately, I must soon go," he muttered.

Finally, Salem thought, rolling her eyes. Thank goodness her father hadn't caught her when she vulnerable, like last time.

"Before I do, I have one more question," he said softly, and this time when he looked at her, she saw the smallest amount of pleading in his eye. Curious, she decided to take the bait. She'd wondered when he would finally be reduced to this, and now it had finally happened.

"What is it?"

"Oh dear," he said, then the pleading was gone and he was back to his old self, "seems I must go now." And so he left.

Salem sighed. At some point, she would have to figure out how to send his spirit to the afterlife and remove this distraction. If she could just learn how.

But that was a for another time. Right now, she had other things on her mind, such as her daughters.

More than once, she had imagined what life would have been like if Ozma had only listened to her and forsaken the gods who had cursed her, cursed them, and instead embraced her vision of a world where they were gods. Her daughters would have grown and become goddesses like them, fine young women who she never stop being proud of. But of course, like the coward he was, Ozma had let his fear of the Two Brothers override any love for their family. When he tried to take their children away from her, that was when she had seen him for what he was - no longer the man she had loved before, but a traitor to everything she had stood for. That he had fought for.

And that was something she would never forgive. Not when it had cost the lives of her children.