Strange Aeons: Shadows of the Past

by R. A. Howard

Chapter 3

Snow crunched under my sneakers - or more precisely, a pair of sneakers Ruby had left behind when she headed off on her adventure a month back. I needed to put on two pairs of socks over the school stockings and tighten the laces as much as they could be tightened. A small breeze reminded my legs that stockings were no substitute for a good pair of tights, especially in the winter, but I didn't want to waste more time looking for clothing. I envied Zwei for a moment, flopped down before the banked fire back home.

I glanced at Yang while I kept an ear out. The moon had risen above the tree line, the fragments dominating with the crescent moon, leaving a confusing maze of shadow and glimmer. Bared tree limbs reached toward the road and intermingled in a tangle that come summer would barely let light reach the ground. It would be near impossible to see anything in that mess, let alone shadowed Grimm, and I admitted to myself that Yang was right. It would have been better to head out come dawn, no matter that something inside was compelling me forward. However, the cabin had been out of sight for a while now. There was no real point in turning back.

Yang paused, her eyes scanning the road ahead, and asked "Do you smell that?" I caught up to her and took a long slow breath through my nose. The cold pressed in on my nostrils, but I could catch an odd, acrid scent in the air.

"Gunpowder. Someone was using an older gun," I said, glancing over at Yang. "Not everyone uses Dust for their weapons, even if it provides more power. I'm surprised anyone on the island would use an older gun. Normally they're found outside the Kingdoms. "

"Maybe it's all they had on hand?" Yang speculated and started forward again. I waited a pace before following. Wings rustled in the air and I turned to catch a glimpse of small red eyes from a young crow-like Nevermore. Ahead, the light was less diffuse and had a yellow cast to it that hardened the shadows. "There's the neighbor's house now- whoa."

The yard was illuminated by several flood lights, showing the snow and ground had been torn up by something big. Several trees had also been shattered, around six feet off the ground. Someone had been going for head-shots. It's not easy, but it's probably the best way to quickly kill Grimm. Storm shutters covered the house's windows, though the shutter on the attic window had been drawn up maybe a foot, enough to let light shine through to face the desolation. Claw marks gouged the door and the outer part of one window and, as we approached, I could see the glimmer of glass shining on the ground where the snow had mostly sublimated.

"Do we knock?" Yang asked, her eyes on the trees. Several pairs of glowing red eyes stared back - more juvenile Nevermores sheltered in the trees, rather than risk being an easy target. My attention was drawn back to the door as a clack echoed through the yard from a thrown latch, and light gleamed from the front door, partly blocked from a figure probably no taller than myself standing in the threshold.

"Come in, you're cold and I'm sure you have questions. I put on a pot of tea for you, it's nearly done brewing," the woman said before she turned and walked back into the interior. I shared a glance with Yang and we headed toward the door.

The interior of the house was cluttered. A chair had been broken and its pieces were piled up next to a table sporting a claw mark. Three more intact chairs had been pulled away from the edge of the table. Metal bars were bolted across a doorway to what was probably a bedroom, the gaps between the bars no more than a foot. I glimpsed claw marks along the edge of the door frame, but nothing had broken through.

"My apologies on the mess," the woman said while staring up at Yang. Her short dark-brown hair framed her face while dark shadows lingered under heterochromatic eyes: her right was an electric blue while her left a cloudy blue that hid her pupil. "All of it, really. Don't mind the furball. I've trapped him in there so he's no threat so long as you don't get close. Do try not to get too emotional; that seems to rile him up."

I glanced away from the woman again as my head started to spin and looked back at the barred doorway. The glimmer of red eyes peeked out for a moment before closing. "Wait. You... captured an Ursa?" I asked. Yang spared a glance for it before turning back to our host, her brow furrowed.

The dark-haired woman, who looked maybe Yang's age, arched an eyebrow. "You have the strangest naming traditions. I have to wonder what other bits of culture crossed over into your world. Then again, maybe it's translational? It could be me who perceive- um, sorry!" she said, shrugging her shoulders apologetically.

My stomach churned and I took a deep breath while trying to calm it. The vertigo was getting worse.

"Who are you?" Yang asked. Her shotgun gauntlet was still armed, yellow ceramic covering most of her forearm, but she kept her arm pointed at the floor.

The girl shrugged as she smiled. "Names are a thing of power, Yang Xiao Long." Yes, very nice showing that you know us even if we don't know you. "I'm trying to avoid the gaze of one who can hear my name whispered in thoughts. Don't worry, don't worry. I'm not that girl with the parasol you're obsessing on. You positively detest her, don't you?"

My daughter stepped back, her arm coming up toward the woman. "Wait. How-"

"I'm psychic" she said, her lips edging toward a smile. She glanced at me and her brow furrowed as the smile slipped from her lips. "Odd. Death stalks you." She sighed, her eyes on the clawed-up carpet. "I don't know how this happened, I'm sorry. Yang? You'll want to catch Summer."

Yang looked wide-eyed at me but didn't hesitate, grabbing me as the ground tilted out from under my feet. "I told you we should have waited!" I swallowed, my stomach calming as the ground steadied beneath Yang's grasp.

"Fascinating," the dark-haired woman whispered, tilting her head to one side. Her eyes shifted from Yang to me and back. "That might explain it," she murmured, talking more to herself, and turned toward the kitchen. "Sit her at the table and please don't take your hand off of her if you can help it, Miss Long. Your mother's life is literally in your hand right now."

"Wait, what?" Yang asked. I took the opportunity to lower myself into one of the two chairs. Interesting that she'd left the two chairs on this side, rather than one for each side of the table. Our host busied herself collecting mugs and a pot which steamed from its spout. She set the mugs before us, the scent of mint wafting into the air as she poured the tea.

"It's... difficult to explain. Try describing color to someone who's been blind since birth. What do you say? How do you find the words?" the woman sighed and sipped her tea, flinching at the heat on her lips. "This... gift isn't something I can just turn on or off," she said, adding with a mutter, "as that would have made my life too convenient, wouldn't it?" She avoided our gazes as she looked upward, her thumb drumming on the table. "It's... hmm. Well, when you came in I... felt your mother start to ail. You caught her, and at that moment it stopped." She glanced at Yang and myself with an apologetic look.

"You say you don't know how this happened," I said, eyeing the tea. The woman decided to risk burning the roof of her mouth by sipping her own. "Well, what did happen then? And what should we call you? Or do you prefer 'hey you?'" Yang snorted and gave my fingers a squeeze.

"It's tempting!" she said with a grin. "But that's probably not a good idea. Hmm. Let's go with Acacia. It's nicely symbolic, what with what happened." Acacia rubbed her eyes and raised a finger even as Yang opened her mouth. "I'm getting to it. Look, do you want the confusing technobabble? Or should I put it in layman's terms?"

"Technobabble?" Yang asked.

"Yes, it involves tachyons and a dark matter surge and I've already lost you haven't I?" Acacia sighed and gave me an intent look. "I'm trying to get home. All this?" She gestured at several computers and monitors lining the wall behind her, the ones on the end clawed and smashed while two others were blackened. "It's to find a way. I was running a simple low-powered test when... well, something went awry. There was a power surge; the system was drawing in power from somewhere. I don't know yet from where. Several of those things," she nodded at the trapped Ursa "appeared in here, with more outside. If I were to hazard a guess? You appeared at the same time. In the morning, right?"

I nodded, trying to grasp what she was talking about. I enjoyed tinkering with machines but I couldn't understand most of what she'd said. One question came to mind, and my voice was the barest whisper as I asked "Why?"

She must have understood my question somehow, though I barely did. "If I knew why you came back, I could start my own religion and bring back people's loved ones, couldn't I?" Acacia gave Yang a kind glance and then turned back to me. "Given how torn up your daughter is? I'd say she needs you. And for a brief moment? You've been able to come back to her. As you had always intended."

I closed my eyes tight against the tears and swallowed, forcing the lump down in my throat. "So. I'm going to die again. Fade away?" At least I'd gotten to see Yang again, if only for a moment. I scrubbed my eyes and glanced at Yang, who was shaking her head, her eyes wide.

Acacia nodded, her eyes downcast, and then took a deep breath and turned to my daughter. "Unless we act to stop this. It will take a sacrifice." She stood, tension draining from her body as she drew herself erect. "Yang Xiao Long. This sacrifice would be yours. Will you live for your mother?"

Yang blinked and gave Acacia a nonplussed stare. "What?" I squeezed Yang's fingers and also stared at Acacia in confusion. At that moment she somehow seemed older than me. Older than my parents, my grandparents even, no matter that Yang looked to be her peer.

"It's simple," Acacia said, her voice quiet and reserved. "You called her here, Yang. It was my efforts to go home that opened the Door, but you feel abandoned, alone. She needed to see you one final time. Those two needs melded and drew her from... well, whatever lies beyond. But the Door has Closed. She will fade without some equitable trade. Or some way, someone, to anchor her here."

"Equitable? You mean someone would need to die so I can live," I said flatly. I would not allow that. Nothing was worth that.

Acacia smiled, probably catching my resolve. "Traditionally? That's how it's done." She leaned in with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, the years melting from her in an instant. "I've never been big on tradition. A wise man once said that life can be shared. And I know of a way..." she closed her eyes, the smile vanishing and revealing the barest glimpse of vulnerability and pain before Acacia's mask hid it. "I can't guarantee this will work, mind you. I've not... done this before." She shrugged and slid back into the chair before them. "But if we do nothing? You'll be lost. Your daughter will be left with bittersweet memories and will probably throttle me. So let's take a leap of faith."

Yang squeezed my hand again while staring into her mug of tea. I unclasped my hand from hers and slid my hand down to take hold of her elbow. "Have some tea," I told her and turned back to Acacia. "What happens to Yang if she does this?"

"Mom, it's worth it!" Yang said, turning from the mug inches from her mouth to stare at me. At my look she turned back to the mug and sipped her tea.

Acacia's eyes flickered between us. "If it works? You'll be bound together. This is why I asked Yang if she would live for you. Because you'll only live as long as she does." She fixed her gaze on me, her eyes sad. "That bond goes both ways. If you go out and do something stupid or try to sacrifice yourself to save her? She won't outlive you for long."

"So if I get sick or have an accident?" I looked at Yang, who put the mug down, its contents sloshing over the side and onto the table as she looked back at me with wide eyes. "For what, a couple extra years?"

"It doesn't matter!" Yang insisted. At my stare she flinched and then took a shuddering breath. "Mom, I nearly- I nearly died a couple months back. When I rushed in? It was to save Blake. And for what?" She glanced at her right arm, the sleeve tied shut. "I think she ended up saving me, before she ran," she confessed, rubbing her cheek on her shoulder and reaching over to snag my other hand to hold it tight. "Besides. You haven't seen Ruby yet. Or Dad! Maybe we can find some other way, some other option. But we need time to find it!" My heart ached as she turned back to Acacia. "Yes. I'll live for my mother. So. Um... how do we do this? Do you hook me up to one of those machines?"

Acacia shook her head. "No. I speak of the Mysteries, not of science. In layman's terms? Magic. I'll invoke a Divine, ask her to help us, bind the two of you together, and thus allow Summer to continue to live on despite the Door's Closure. And despite her death."

"Magic? But-" Yang blinked in confusion looking at Acacia and then over at me. "That's just in fairy tales, isn't it?" I have no idea why you're looking at me, Yang. I guess she hadn't been told the final truth - sometimes mothers don't know everything.

"Your mother is sitting by your side because of arcane science beyond anything you can conceive of. And you ask if magic is real?" Acacia grinned. "I'm reminded of myself. A long time ago. I didn't believe in magic either when I was your age. But yes. It's real. Not all of it, but enough."

Yang glanced down at the table and then over at me before she returned her gaze to Acacia. "But- does it matter she's..." her voice trailed off.

Acacia smiled and shook her head. "I was adopted myself. Your mother is the woman who raised you. That's your bond. Not flesh. Not genetics. All that really matters is that you genuinely want this. That you are willing to sacrifice. To share your life with her."

"Then let's do this," Yang said, looking at me with a challenge in her eyes. I nodded, smiling back at her, looking at the daughter of my heart, if not of blood.

Magic. It was something from the old tales, the ones that spoke of the Season Maidens and other ancient mysteries. I rather enjoyed those old tales. Yet somehow Acacia made it seem mundane. I watched Acacia with a broom as she swept the floor around Yang and myself. Sweeping? What does sweeping have to do with magic? Where were the arcane tomes, shouldn't there be dusty old books involved? I will admit that the two candles were a nice touch. Acacia carved our names and dates of birth into them, but she didn't use some ancient rune-encrusted and jeweled blade. She took out her pocket knife and used that. The blade had specks of rust on it. How is that magical?

But there was something going on. She gave each of us one of the candles, had us breathe upon them, prick our fingers, and had each smear a drop of blood on our candle. My blood didn't vanish into wisps of shadows this time. I swear, the candle started to feel heavier while Yang and I held them. We sat on the floor facing each other cross-legged, our feet touching. Acacia had us take our shoes off as well, which was a good thing. I think Ruby's sneakers were starting to give me a blister.

There was a rhythmic pattern to Acacia's sweeping and she moved clockwise around us. I could hear whispered words as she moved, small snippets that made little sense to me. Guardians and watchtowers. Flames and waves. The sun and mountains. A whispered plea.

The air stilled when she finished brushing the third time. I felt the hairs on my arm rise. Acacia started chanting something low and melodious. I could not make out the words, yet somehow the words filled an emptiness deep inside I had not known was there. She finished her song and gestured with one hand, the other still holding her broom upright, and Yang and I placed our candles on the ground before us. She leaned in, striking a wooden match on the ground, and lit each wick in turn.

She sank slowly to the ground and sat cross-legged with us, not with the fluid grace of a child. Gradual, with aches and age sapping the vitality within. I rubbed above my elbow on my right arm, which had started to ache. Acacia turned her gaze to Yang, who was holding my hand once more, and motioned to her. "You don't need to keep hold of her. She's anchored here now that the Circle's been cast."

"So that's it? I was expecting something flashier," Yang said. "So what do we do now?"

"Now? We encourage the bond to grow. And we hope." I felt my eyebrows try to creep past my hairline while my daughter looked equally incredulous. "Look, this is magic, not science. I know the ritual, but I've only seen it performed once before. And the woman's friend was dead, not-" she gestured at me, "in a halfway state. How do you feel, Summer?"

I shrugged. Her tone suggested she already knew, so she was probably asking for Yang's sake. "It's strange. It's... so still. And I can feel something in the air. It started the moment you finished sweeping." I glanced at Yang as I realized we were mirroring our actions in rubbing our right arms. "And my arm is starting to ache."

Yang flinched and pulled her hand away from her bandaged stump. "It- it does when I've been out in the cold. She's not feeling this, is she? Are we going to start..." she looked at me and then at her right arm again, her eyes widening.

Acacia shrugged. "I've no idea. I mean, I feel that all the time. I'm not sure how it differs with the type of bond we're forming with you two."

"What do you mean it happens all the time? You mean you-"

"Feel other people's pain? Yes. It's one reason I moved out here following the attacks on Vale. I didn't want to go nuts with everyone's pain and anxiety." I shuddered at the thought. Yang had mentioned Beacon had fallen. I hadn't realized that Vale itself had been attacked. And the attacks had happened during the Vytal Festival. Just Yang's pain alone, assuming I wasn't imagining it, was distracting enough. I couldn't imagine that multiplied by dozens of other people. How did she keep from going mad?

Yang blinked and leaned away from Acacia. "Everyone's? That's not going to happen to us, is it?"

Acacia snorted. "No. Your bond is closer to that between some twins. Sometimes they... I don't know. Share a soul? What you're doing is similar, except you've your own unique souls, and are sharing a life instead." I wonder if Raven and Qrow share that kind of bond? Could that be part of why he drinks? Did Raven running off leave that bond sundered? Is he masking the pain?

"But can't you just, I don't know, turn it off somehow?"

"Can you turn off your hearing? Or your sense of touch? If you really focus, you can ignore the sensations, but they are still there. Think of it as being in an auditorium. There are people all around you, and they are all talking at the same time and all those words blend together and you can't make out one conversation from the next. You'll hear the occasional word and shouted comments. But unless you can focus on a conversation, it's just noise. Though that doesn't really explain the empathy, I suppose."

"But you can blink!" Yang said with a grin. "Keep your eyes closed! Why don't you just..." Yang petered off as Acacia stared daggers into her, almost willing the air to smack my daughter upside the head. Don't try it. You might be helping us but I'll smack you right back. Acacia glanced at me and quirked an eyebrow.

"You know, there's a reason I stopped mentoring young fools," Acacia muttered. She turned her gaze back to Yang and her lips curled upward into what only a fool would call a smile. "Enough of me. We're here so you can bond with your mother. It's been what, a decade since she's been in your life? More? You should tell her about your teammates and your time at that school."

Yang stared back, biting her lip, and then sighed. "Yeah, nothing like misery to bring us closer," she said with a glance at her right arm. She looked down at the candles and I shot Acacia a glare before I felt... curiosity? Yang was still looking at the candles. Were they closer together?

The problem was, Acacia was right. I did want to know more. I wanted to hear the stories I had missed. But how? She wasn't about to start. She was torn up about Beacon. I smiled and looked back at Yang. "Tell you what, Yang, I'll start. I can tell you about when I went to Beacon. And then you can share your own stories in turn. Deal?"

Yang met my eyes and nodded. "Deal."

"And that's when Raven swore off ever wearing a cloak again!" I said, laughing. Yang's eyes sparkled with humor while Acacia continued her silent vigil, her eyes closed and palms on her knees while sitting cross-legged before the two candles. They'd burned to half their lengths, and were now touching. I'd not seen her move them. In fact, I'd not seen them move at all. But when they'd been put down, they were inches apart.

The sound of metal rattling drew my attention from the candles to the bedroom. The trapped Ursa had its claws entwined on one of the metal bars, trying to work it back and forth. "Um, Acacia?"

"Don't worry about the fuzzball. He couldn't pry them out earlier. He's just bored," Acacia said, not even bothering to open her eyes. "Besides, he knows I wiped out most of his brethren. Hated doing it but..." she shrugged.

"What did you use?" Yang asked. I rolled my eyes as Yang once more tried to weasel out of her turn storytelling. Several times now she'd tried to get out of her turn, but I'd foiled her every attempt. She'd avoided saying more about Blake though, and I could almost imagine an ache in my chest when she did mention Blake in passing, but given most of her stories had focused on Ruby, I didn't push. The glint in her eyes suggested her current efforts were more to tug my chain than a serious effort to avoid talking about Beacon. And maybe it was selfish of me... but I enjoyed hearing stories about my youngest.

I blinked back tears. She'd shared some more pictures of Ruby at Beacon, and my little girl had turned out to look like a younger version of me. My little girl was almost grown up. I smiled wistfully as I watched Yang try to engage Acacia. I frequently forgot Yang wasn't my daughter by birth. Not that it truly matters.

Acacia opened her eyes to stare at Yang and then glanced toward the ceiling and the attic window overlooking the yard. "It's a Gepárd M3, an older gun from my world. It was used primarily to take out light vehicles. There was a scorpion thing that took four shots before it went down, and I went through two drums of ammo before I got them all," she said, sighing sadly. "They ran at the end. I'm sorry I didn't stop the ones that went after you," she said, turning to me, and added "it's not really that accurate when targeting things over a couple klicks. Still, it's unfortunate I had to destroy them."

"Unfortunate? They're the creatures of Grimm! It's them or us!" Yang exclaimed.

"Have you ever asked why they attack? Why they are drawn to negative emotions? If you could find a way to block or mute those emotions to keep the Grimm from finding you, then humanity could live in peace." Yang gave me a confused look, which I'll admit I returned. I knew the Grimm could think - the older ones at least - but they'd never given me reason to think they could be reasoned with. "How long have you fought the Grimm? How many battles have been lost? How many people have died? How many communities have fallen? If your traditions have failed to solve this problem, you need to look beyond them. Otherwise you'll be ill-prepared for when things fall apart. As they always do."

This is why I favor you. Yet you hide when there is no need. I turned in shock back toward Acacia, the Words resonating, felt rather than heard, echoing from deep within.

The candles flared, Light pouring from them and onto the floor, quickly filling the Circle and pooling around our feet and legs, rolling up over us. It was done in an instant. It took an eternity. There was naught but the Light. We were the Light.

Yang stood before me, not in flesh but in shining spirit. Her two hands held my hands. Before us were Gates, barely ajar, a silver string drawing me toward them. A Song reverberated through the Light and tears would have come to my eyes if I had any, if we had been flesh. The string drew me to the edge of the Gate, Yang pulled along, a silver string rolling from her chest and down into Eternity and so very close and yet so very distant, connected to her body within the Light. As we drew nigh to the Gates, dwarfed by their immensity, the Other emerged from the Light. You wish your mother back?

yes

You wish to stand with your daughter?

yes

The Gates closed, the silver string held by the Other who offered it to Yang. Without a moment's hesitation my daughter accepted the string, and I blinked to find myself staring into Yang's eyes.

Between us the candles were gone, replaced by a single Candle, two wicks braided around an ethereal third. Lips brushed my forehead and I could feel the love of a child for her mother, the love of a mother for her child. A love so intense there was nothing else. We stiffened as one, held in the same instant of eternity.

Yet the Light never quite touched Acacia even as it surrounded her. Her voice was a whisper that played in the Light, barely vibrating the strings of Light that had filled my and Yang's being. I do not deserve your love. You should not offer it to me.

Then why did you call, my Sentinel? Why do you weep when you knew I would respond? the Other asked, sounding so childlike and yet mature, while Acacia's voice seemed older yet showed such vulnerability and pain at this moment.

I killed others. I continue to, even now! And I would again. Acacia remained outside the Light as it flooded through the ceiling, filling beyond, streaming into the sky, reaching slowly toward Remnant's broken Moon shining down from far above. Acacia remained shadowed. Beyond.

Yet you called.

I couldn't let Summer die. Please? I cannot give you what you want! But Summer deserves to live again. I'm responsible for bringing her here. Don't send her back!

They have already agreed to the Bond, my Sentinel, the Other said, delighted laughter mingling with affection. You do know that I forgave you the moment you acted. You killed to protect others, not out of hate. You need just forgive yourself.

I gasped, as did Yang. The Light had vanished, if it had ever truly been. Only Acacia's tears bore witness to what had passed. That, and a candle burning steadily with twin wicks braided with an ethereal third.

Acacia continued to sob, tears running down her cheeks, and I moved around the Candle to take the girl in my arms. Yang shivered, drawing her left arm close to her side, her eyes wide. I saw Light reflected from them, a Light that chased all shadows from the room.

Acacia pulled away from me, forcing herself erect and taking a step forward to stand between me and that cold Light. A tall man, his hair untouched by the Light, spoke in a soft baritone that I felt as much as heard. "Do you honestly believe, Acacia, that I need your Name to find you?" The strength leeched from my bones and out of the corner of my eye I saw the Candle flicker before it strengthened as Yang moved up to stand by my side.

"Your destiny is your own. I'll have no part of it. I choose my own path," Acacia said, her voice hoarse as tears continued to flow down her face. "I followed you for decades. And every time you say it is 'not yet time' for me to go home. I even left my daughter behind because you insisted. Screw that! I'll find my own way!"

I struggled, trying to remain on my feet. I wouldn't let Acacia face this alone. The man arched an eyebrow and I had this strange impression it was as much meant for me as for Acacia. I had surprised him. The Light glimmered and touched at things unseen by his side, teasing shapes suggestive of feathers arching up behind him. "Each time we have reached this point in space-time, you insist on your own path. Did you know that you have never found your way home quicker that way? You will fail once more, time and time again, until millennia have passed. Why do you insist on walking these same blind paths, making these same mistakes?"

Acacia took a step back and I forced myself to take a step forward. I placed a hand on her shoulder, oddly drawing strength from her even as she quailed. "I don't know who or what you are, but you are not welcome here. Be gone from this place."

"At what cost?" the man asked, his eyes luminous as he stared into me. "With but one mistake she drew you from beyond the Gates. You should be at rest, not chained to this world once more. What do you think she will do next time? Perhaps she will shatter your world to match your shattered Moon above. She knows not what she does. She is a threat to you and all you hold dear," he said. He turned away from us and gestured at the Ursa which cowered in the doorway, and I felt a moment of pity for the beast; it should have fled into the room. But then, I suspect that would have made no difference at all. "This never should have happened," he said, and the shadow-bear trembled and then exploded into shadows which boiled briefly before they vanished.

"You bastard!" Acacia shouted, stumbling and falling to her knees. "Why? He wasn't a threat!" She paused, turning to look toward the windows which remained shuttered against the night, her eyes even wider. "You even killed the shadow crows in the yard!"

"They are monsters. They would maim you, draw out your pain, and then kill you. They would show you no pity. Waste not tears for them."

I stepped between Acacia and the man, staring him down. "Am I next? Will you wave your hands and kill me next?" I could hear my daughter whisper no and she stepped forward as well, her shotgun-gauntlet armed and pointed at the luminous man.

"You do belong beyond the Gates. But you have been anchored here," he said, his gaze brushing the Candle, which I could sense flicker against his gaze, cold fingers grasping at my heart. Yang's hand quavered and I reached over to touch her, finding strength in her even as Yang found it in me.

The man stepped forward, his foot crossing the threshold Acacia had swept; swirls of air escaped while a cold draft wafted over me, adding to my chill. He gazed down at me, ignoring my daughter, her hair shimmering gold as her eyes blazed red. Fool man. "You shelter her when she could break your world. In leaving, she could leave this world drowned in Grimm. Let me take her from here. Her journey is not yours."

"No," I said. I studied his face and smiled in realization. "You say she could. Not that she would. Besides. I don't mind having returned," I said, turning and smiling at Yang, who continued to glare at the man. "I have family worth living for."

"Pyrrha Nikos. Penny Poledina." The names hammered down, striking me through Yang, who quailed at the names uttered. "Those two alone have left their mark on both of your daughters' souls and moved beyond the Gate, though you remember them not. Do they not deserve a second chance to live? To be with the families that mourn them? What of Roman Torchwick, or the faunus of the White Fang who died assaulting Beacon, or students and inhabitants of Vale who died as well? What of all the others who die even now. Do they not deserve a second chance?" The man suddenly looked weary, a glimpse of humanity emerging for a brief moment. He looked sadly down at Acacia. "When word spreads of your return, they will seek her out. Will you shelter her from them? Hide her while she seeks her path? Let her tear your world apart? Let. Her. Go."

"I don't know what I did!" Acacia said, her voice a plaintive whisper from the floor behind me. I reached back, my hand brushing the hair on her forehead.

"Would they care? Come with me, child. In the end, you know you will."

"We will see," I said, staring down the shining man. Or at least I gave it my best try; it's kind of difficult staring down someone who's over a foot taller than you. I'd done it with Taiyang before though. He met my gaze and struggled to remain expressionless for a beat as if he also could follow the train of my thoughts, and then smiled, his face human as he nodded.

"Before, you remained silent. I am glad you found strength in your daughter during these last two turnings of the Wheel. I do hope you are right... but plan for the worse, Summer Rose. For death still stalks you." I blinked as the room went dark, the man gone. The sole illumination remaining came from the Candle which had flickered but never gone out, and which once more burned steady.

Silence filled the house, broken only by sniffles from Acacia as she struggled to hold in tears. I turned and sank to the ground, wrapping my arms around the child-like woman before me. I looked up as Yang rested her hand on my shoulder and then back to Acacia, wiping tears from her face. "You're coming with us."