I do not own RWBY. I do however own the Original Characters.

Hey guys! How's everyone doing? First off, again, I apologize for how long these have been taking me. This chapter was a bitch to write, mainly because I had no idea what to do after the first part. Not to mention I had online classes (which have ended, thank god!) and got a summer job which takes up a good amount of time and leaves me pretty exhausted.

I am honestly not sure how to think about this chapter. There are parts that I feel are really good, but others that make me feel… I don't know, mediocre? Rushed? Whatever it is, I hope you all like it regardless.

A Big thanks to OnyxRex who was a big help with this chapter as always. Check out his work on and DeviantArt (Dragon Blitz 87) he's done some great artwork for Grimm Heir and is even working on an animatic anime intro, a teaser of which is already on Youtube.

Now, onto the chapter!

Grimm Heir

Chapter thirty-five: Dreams, Schemes, & Contemplation

The city was burning.

The threat had been dealt with, true, but that did not undo the damage they caused. Ugly pillars of black smoke billowed in the sky. Buildings had been leveled to the ground, entire city blocks destroyed, and a portion of the city now lay flattened beneath the crushed carcass of an Atlesian dreadnought-class warship and its evaporating killer.

And the death toll was in the hundreds…

The sheer amount of destruction demonstrated today was unthinkable, to the average citizen. They were in a time of peace, the Great War was only a memory to them, the world was united in the shared goal of prosperity. How could such devastation even be possible?

Ozpin let out a great sigh as he stared out from his office window, looking over at the wounded city.

How ignorant the people he had sworn to protect could be, forgetting that they were not the dominant force upon this world. It was incredible really, how they just ignored the ever-present possibility of a Grimm incursion, believing themselves safe, putting their very lives in the hands of others.

However, he knew he could not place all the fault on them.

"Ozpin."

Plenty of it lied with the politicians that governed the Kingdom, the Vale Council. Despite Beacon residing outside their realm of political control, the Council never seemed to understand that. In recent years, the Council had been dead set on extending their influence over Beacon Academy in every manner they could think of.

Demanding financial compensation for collateral damage caused by Huntsmen in Kingdom territory, proposing laws to limit Huntsmen involvement in criminal investigations, promoting specific individuals for student enrollment or as faculty members, and-

"Ozpin!"

The headmaster repressed another sigh as he turned to face owner of the voice. Or, their projection, to be more accurate. Hovering above his desk was a holographic screen displaying the shadowed silhouettes of Vale's councilmen, along with the image of his friend and colleague James Ironwood.

"Apologies, councilman, my mind was elsewhere." He feigned innocence, already aware to the purpose of their unwelcomed call.

Ozpin never understood why they thought it prudent to conceal their features when speaking to him like this. He already knew who they were, what they looked like, and so on. It was likely they were trying to exaggerate their influence by hiding obscuring themselves. Qrow had once joked they got the idea from watching a bad science-fiction movie.

Ozpin liked to think they did.

"As I was saying," The councilman began, biting back a growl that still managed to get out. "In the wake of this disaster, we have no choice but to cancel the Vytal Festival for this year. As of now, we must focus on reconstruction and humanitarian efforts. The Vytal Festival cannot be put before the people of Vale."

Ozpin nodded in approval to this. He might consider the Council as annoying meddlers, but they understood what came first in a situation such as this. The city had suffered significant damage in the attack, countless people were now homeless and even with someone like Glynda Goodwitch assisting in the rebuilding efforts, it would cost millions of Liens to restore Vale to its former glory.

"This is a disaster," another Council member groaned, though their voice was filtered to prevent Ozpin from identifying which one. "It will take us years to repair the damage, let alone the impact this will have on our economy." The Council member paused, then added, "You will answer for this, Ozpin. It is your job to prevent this sort of thing from even happening in the first place!"

"Councilors, please," interrupted the voice of Ironwood. "What happened today was a tragedy, but Professor Ozpin is not to blame. If it were not for the students and faculty of Beacon Academy, my soldiers would have been hard pressed to push both the Grimm and White Fang back. Without them, Vale would still be warzone."

Ozpin did not comment; his mind was on other matters. Oh, he heard them fine, but the old headmaster was already tiring of this annoying, and rather pointless, conversation.

One of the councilmen cleared their throat, a signal for them to return to the matter at hand. "Yes, indeed, but it was your troops that pushed back the attack, General. Which brings us to our second topic. To ensure the safety of both Vale and its citizens, the Atlas Council has agreed to allow General Ironwood and his forces remain in Vale until this situation has… abated."

Ironwood remained impassive towards the news, offering a curt thank you to the council and promising to ensure that Atlas would be more than happy to assist in any way it could.

Ozpin was growing tired of this. "Will that be all?" He suppressed the frustration in his voice easily enough, though he could not help but narrow his eyes at the shadowy figures on the screen.

A pause followed the headmaster's words. "No," said one of the councilmen. "There is one more subject we must discuss with you and the General regarding today's attack. The reports we received on the matter were… disturbing."

Finally, they decide to discuss something of actual importance. "The Grimm-child." Ozpin clarified.

There is hesitation before the Council responded. They were as unnerved by the news as everyone else was it seemed. "Yes, the girl with the… Grimm claws. Has she been captured yet?"

"My troops are searching the city for her as we speak, Councilmen," Ironwood answered. "We have yet to locate her, but it'll be only a matter of time before we do."

"It is imperative that we find and capture this girl," the Councilman replied, doing his best to hide the fear he held for such a creature. "If what the reports said about her were accurate, then we must stop her before she can kill any more people!" A pause followed him. "Do we have any information on who she might be?"

"Nothing definitive," James answered before Ozpin. "However, we have reason to believe she is the Siren Grimm that has been terrorizing the eastern Outlier settlements of Sanus."

"The Siren!?" One of the Councilors scoffed. "You cannot be serious? The Siren is a myth, General. A boogeyman thought up by some overly proud Outliers who didn't want to admit they should have stayed in the Kingdoms!"

James said nothing in response. Instead, he took out his Scroll and pressed several buttons to allow the Vale Council to hear what had to be the most bone-chilling and blood-curdling scream Ozpin ever had the displeasure of hearing.

It was beyond inhuman. Even with the volume of it reduced to tolerable levels, the old headmaster felt the instinctual urge to shield his ears from the sound in any way he could. He resisted it, unwilling to let himself succumb to the scream. The Vale Council did not possess his fortitude and they desperately brought their hands to their ears, trying to block out the terrifying influence of the scream.

After five seconds, James silenced the sound. Ozpin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and the Councilors recomposed themselves as best they could after such an unexpected assault on their senses.

"Wha-what the hell was that!?" One of them cried out.

"That is why we have reason to believe this girl is the Siren," explained James. "This scream matches no documented Grimm and was recognized by an individual that claims to have survived an encounter with the Siren." Then he held up his hand and added, "However, this is only speculation. The individual in question was suffering from battle fatigue and possibly PTSD at the time. As of right now, we have no solid evidence to support this claim."

The councilors did not respond right away. Ozpin narrowed his eyes, wishing they were not concealed in shadow so he might read their faces. He assumed they were nervous and given James' statement regarding the strength of his theory, they were likely to cling to the false-hope that this girl truly wasn't the Siren.

He held back a sigh. Sometimes, he really regretted creating the council system. "If I may," Ozpin offered, "Beyond the Siren, there is another possible identity for our foe."

One of the councilors coughed into his hand, trying to dispel the anxiety he no doubt felt. "R-really now? And who do you think she is, Ozpin?"

The answer was far more unlikely than James' answer – though Ozpin dreaded that it was just as true – and could lead to the council regarding the general's claim as the more reasonable and likely of the two, if only a little.

"Not I, one of my students. A first-year named Yang Xiao-Long. She believes that the girl is her lost half-sister, Ruby Rose."

One of the councilors brought up a holographic screen and scrolled through it before finding what they were after. "According to the General's report," the councilor began, "Yang Xiao-Long was also the one that allowed the girl to escape custody, correct? I would not trust the word of someone so… insubordinate. Besides, what evidence could she possibly have to support this claim?"

"Close to nothing, councilmen." Ironwood answered. "I've had some of my people look into Miss Xiao-Long's claim as well and they have found nothing sustainable. It is more than likely that Miss Xiao-Long merely thinks this girl is her sister."

"We cannot dismiss the possibility that this girl is in fact Ruby Rose," Ozpin reminded. "From what Glynda has told me, she bears a striking resemblance to Summer Rose, Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao-Long's deceased mother."

"And you sound exactly like one of my son's favorite cartoon characters," another councilor remarked. "It doesn't mean you are."

Ozpin smiled, "I was not aware you watched Scarlet Against Azure, Councilman."

"Stay on topic, Ozpin." The third council member warned. "Regardless of who or what she is, it is imperative that we capture this girl as quickly as possible. The people of Vale are not safe so long as she remains at large."

"For this reason, we ask that you and your Huntsmen assist the General's forces in apprehending this fugitive."

Ozpin did not respond, not right away. He took a slow sip of his coffee as he let his mind ponder the identity of this little hybrid-thing. How was it created and when? Who or what was responsible? Was this the one behind the Grimm's civil war? Was it for or against Salem? So many questions, and very few answers he enjoyed.

He placed his mug down on the desk. "It is the sworn duty of every Huntsman and Huntress to protect the people of Remnant against all that may threaten them. Be it Grimm, their fellow man, or something in between. My Huntsmen will gladly assist the General in locating this threat to the people of Vale."

There was a brief pause. Had they expected him to put up a fight, perhaps? "That's good to hear Ozpin. We are happy to hear you haven't completely isolated yourself up in that tower of yours."

"Will that be all, then, Councilmen?" Ozpin asked, keeping his voice civil.

"For now." Another councilor answered. "But, once this girl captured, we are going to have serious discussion regarding your position at Beacon Academy. General Ironwood's reports over the last few weeks have left us somewhat… concerned. I am sure you understand."

With that, the Council vanished from Ozpin's screen, but James remained. The general looked at the headmaster with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Oz. But this-"

Ozpin interrupted the general before he could finish. "What do you plan on doing once you've captured the girl?"

The question surprised James. He blinked once before answering. "I was going have her interrogated upon her capture. As of now, she's the only one who can tell us what this attack was supposed to achieve."

Ozpin stared intently into the General's eyes before speaking. "Do not hold anything back, James." He responded. "This girl is not human, not anymore. Remember that when you capture her. She can provide us with significant insight into the Grimm, maybe even enough to tip the balance in our favor."

The general was stunned. He made to retort, "You want me to torture her? Oz, the Vytal Treaty forbids the torture of prisoners-"

"The Vytal Treaty applies only to humans and faunus, of which this girl is neither." Ozpin spun his chair so that he could see the city of Vale again, see the destruction and death that thing brought to his city. He clenched his fists. "I will not allow what has transpired here today go unpunished! When you have collected all the information you can, execute her."

"Execute her." James repeated, his voice cautious and guarded. "Oz are you sure that's wise?"

The gray-haired headmaster turned back to face the general with a grim and familiar expression. "It is the safest option available to us, James. We cannot allow her to escape. If she does, we run the risk of dealing with a second Queen in the future. Find her, capture her, interrogate her, then dispose of her. Is that understood?"

"Ozpin, I-"

"Is that understood?"

A tense, yet brief silence fell over the conversation, broken only by the tick-tock of the clockwork machinery that made up Ozpin's office.

"I understand." James finally replied, his expression stern. "But I'm not the one you need to convince, Oz."

"Qrow won't be a problem, James." Ozpin replied easily. "He is a loyal and trusted operative. He knows what we do is necessary for the greater good." Unlike that traitorous coward he calls his sister.

"And if what you said is true?" James followed up, "If this girl really is Summer's long-lost daughter, do you really think Qrow will just stand by and let you kill her?"

Ozpin frowned. Qrow Branwen was one of his finest Huntsmen. Skilled, reliable, and surprisingly tight-lipped for a man who drank as much as he did. He had served Ozpin loyally for many years, acting as the headmaster's eyes and ears. Ozpin trusted Qrow. He would even go so far as to say he considered the man his friend.

But Ozpin was not the only person Qrow was loyal to. He had cared deeply for Summer Rose, and the family she left behind. Her death had been a harsh blow to the Huntsman, but he had managed it, came to terms with it. The disappearance of Summer's daughter Ruby was another matter entirely however.

Qrow refused to believe Ruby was dead and for thirteen years, the man searched all over Remnant for the girl, leaving no stone unturned. Ozpin admired the man's determination, he always had, but recently it seemed that Qrow regarded finding Ruby as more important than stopping Salem.

He became more and more infrequent with his reports, all but abandoned his teaching position at Signal, and would only accept Ozpin's missions with obvious reluctance.

It was becoming… problematic.

"Qrow will understand, James." Ozpin answered, "The man's been with me for a long time, far longer than you have. He'll trust my decision on the matter."

James looked unconvinced, "And if he doesn't?"

Ozpin did not answer. Instead, he ended the call with the general and stood up from his chair. He strode over to the window and gazed out at the wounded city of Vale. He narrowed his eyes at the Atlesian warships flying over the city like vultures around a carcass.

"He will understand, James." Ozpin answered the now absent general. "You may not have much faith in him, but Qrow will understand." The headmaster paused for a moment. "When he learns of what has become of Ruby, when he sees the monster wearing her skin, he will understand the mercy in my decision."

A small, confident smile creeped up Ozpin's face, "He won't betray us, James." He said as he brought his mug up to take another sip. "He'll thank us."

Bring-Bring! Bring-Bring!

~o0o~

"C'mon… C'mon…." Wheezed Qrow as he glared desperately at his Scroll.

The old Huntsman was laying against the trunk of a tree, outside of Mountain Glenn. He still couldn't believe he made it out of that deathtrap of a city, especially given the state he was in. Exhausted, low on blood, and missing an arm. It would certainly be an interesting story to tell over a drink, that was for sure.

Qrow had to survive first though.

Once the adrenaline dropped, the full weight of his wounds hit him like a freight train. Breathing became difficult, as did staying conscious. He had to sit down to stop his head from spinning. The only reason he hadn't past out was a mix of Aura manipulation and sheer willpower. But that wouldn't last forever.

Qrow managed to fish out his Scroll and, with a shaky hand, sent out a call to Ozpin, praying the signal would be strong enough to reach him.

Time slowed to a crawl as he waited for a response, the seconds going by like hours for his weary brain. He fought the urge to close his eyes and let oblivion take him. It was a tough battle, but Qrow knew that if he gave in, even for a second, he might never get out of here.

And he wasn't about to die just yet. Not with Ruby still out there, in the clutches of that monster. He refused to die before he found her, he wouldn't let Summer down again.

Ting! "Qrow?" a voice, distorted by digital static but still recognizable, pulled Qrow out of his thoughts. There, on his Scroll, was the still image of Ozpin's face, and below it and audio line that fluctuated with the sound of ticking of clockwork. "Are you there?"

The old crow let out a relieved sigh, "Yeah." He replied. "Yeah, I'm here. I… I ran into a bit of a snag though. Don't think I'll be able to make it back to Beacon on my own."

"Give me your coordinates." Ozpin instructed. "I'll send someone to pick you up."

Qrow did as he was asked, "Might want to hurry up, Oz." He added, as a bout of light headedness overtook him. "I'm not… I'm not in the best of shape right now. Getting harder to stay awake… Did… did the kids stop the train? Did Yang-"

"Stop talking, Qrow." Ozpin ordered in a calm, assuring manner. "Help is on the way, but you need to conserve your strength. I'll tell you everything when you return."

Qrow cracked a smile. "Thanks Oz," he said, ignoring the Headmaster's order for silence. "I can always count on you to pull my ass out of the fire. World's lucky to have someone like you looking after it, keeping it safe."

A pause followed his words. "I could say the same of you, Qrow," was Ozpin's response. "You're an outstanding Huntsman and a good friend. Now-"

"Look for her…" The world was becoming fuzzy, his eyelids grew heavy, sleep beckoned him. He wanted to sleep, to close his eyes and rest for a bit. "You'll… look for Ruby, won't you, Oz? Get her back… to Tai?"

"Qrow, stay with me! A rescue team is on its way, just hold on for a little while longer. Qrow? Qrow!?"

Qrow didn't answer. He couldn't. The Scroll fell from his hand as he lost the strength to hold it. He slumped back against the tree, his body giving into the fatigue that plagued his wounded form. He tried to keep his eyes open, but he was completely spent. His eyes closed, and he saw only blackness.

It did not take long for the old Huntsman to slip into the realm of unconsciousness, yet just as his mind was fading, he heard a familiar noise, like the tearing of fabric. Then, he knew nothing but blissful darkness.

~o0o~

Rojo stared aimlessly at the wall across from him, lost in thought. There wasn't much else to do in his cell but think, but that was probably half the point of a jailcell, right? Make people think about what they've done?

After tracking the two of them down, Professors Oobleck and Port had escorted Rojo and Weiss to a police station that had managed to survive the attack. Rojo hadn't asked why they were taking them there because he already knew the answer. He didn't resist when they arrested him, nor when they confiscated his weapons and ammunition. He entered the cell without complaint, waiting patiently for whatever fate had in store for him next.

Weiss had offered him a few words of reassurance, promising to visit him or even tasking her father to pay his bail. Rojo appreciated the offer but politely turned it down. Weiss had done enough for him already.

She left with both professors shortly after that, leaving the young man alone with his thoughts, and his regrets.

Rojo sighed and buried his face in his hands as the memory of what he did surfaced in his mind. He tried to rationalize his actions, justify them in some way. But the more he did so, the weaker his arguments became. The Siren needed to die, of that alone he was certain, but at what cost?

In his rage, Rojo had been willing to kill Yang, his closest friend, in order to get to the Siren. Now, with his mind clear, he balked at what he had done, cursed and reprimanded himself for his stupidity and bullheadedness.

Why? A traitorous voice in the back of his head asked. She wanted to protect the monster that took your parents away. Isn't death what people like her deserve?

Not Yang. But why? Didn't you swear to kill that monster? To stop it from leaving more children orphaned like you were?

I did swear that, but not at the cost of my friends. But they stopped you from killing it! Stopped you from bringing justice down on that murderous creature! They stopped me from killing Yang, not the Siren! Sure, they were.

It'll get what's coming to it, he thought. Everyone is out there, searching for the Siren. It's only a matter of time until they capture it. But will they kill it? It looked human, acted human. Maybe they'll think it is human. Maybe they'll treat it like one too?

Rojo gritted his teeth at the traitorous thought. They won't do that, he thought. They've heard its scream, seen its evil. They'll kill it, I know they will. Are you sure? Yang protected it, whose to say others won't too. Kill it yourself, it's the only way.

Besides, the voice went on, will it really count if someone else does it? You're the one who lost his parents, you deserve some payback! Who cares about everyone else? Get your justice!

That's not justice, he thought. That's revenge.

Is there a difference?

… Yes, Rojo thought, looking up at the ceiling of his cell. Yes, there is a difference. He knew there was a difference between the two ideals, though it wasn't a very obvious one. To many, revenge was simplified justice and justice was complicated revenge.

Roko let out a long, tired breath. They shared plenty of similarities between the two of them. Both involved righting wrongs, both required getting your hands dirty. The one, major difference was that justice made you a hero and revenge made you a villain. Justice brought an end to evil, was celebrated by everyone. Revenge attracted Grimm, made people suffer.

For years, Rojo had dreamed of finally finding the Siren and ending its bloody reign over Vale's wilderness. He told himself, over and over again, it was to stop the murders of innocent families, to protect the people from a monster they couldn't hope to face.

But he knew that was just an excuse. A beneficial side-effect.

Rojo wanted revenge, not justice.

He wanted that monster to suffer just as he had suffered. Wanted to make it pay for every life it took. He didn't care who got hurt along the way, he didn't care how he got it, but he wanted his revenge.

And just like in the stories, that thirst for vengeance had nearly cost him everything he held dear… All because he was too focused-

A door opened, interrupting his internal conflict. He looked over to see an officer standing by the door leading into the cell room, holding it open. Rojo's eyes bugged when he saw General Ironwood come inside, flanked by two Atlesian soldiers.

"Hello, Rojo," the general said casually, not at all put off by the fact Rojo was in a jail cell or the circumstances that led to his incarceration, which he likely knew about.

It took Rojo a moment to find his voice, "H-hello, Sir."

The general smiled, then turned to the officer at the door. "Officer Jenkins," he said, "Could you wait outside for a moment? I would like to have a chat with this young man, in private."

The officer seemed hesitant at first, but eventually nodded and left the room, along with the two soldiers. The door closed behind them, and only the general and Rojo were left in the room. A silence fell over the two, built of tension and uncertainty. Rojo didn't know why the General of the Atlas military was here to see him. It made the sharpshooter understandably nervous.

When the silence was finally broken, it was the general that spoke first. "It is a shame that I find you here, Toro. Ozpin told me he had high hopes for you and your team." Rojo bit back a wince at being reminded of his actions in the square but remained silent. He didn't want to dig his grave any deeper.

"He argued to keep you enrolled." What? "He said you were the only one willing to look past the girl and see the monster wearing her skin. That you were the only one willing to do what needed to be done to protect the Kingdom. Admirable, he called it."

Rojo couldn't believe what he was hearing. Professor Ozpin agreed with him? The old Huntsman had always struck Rojo as a man that despised unnecessary conflict and loss of life, to hear that he not only supported, but defended his actions at the square boggled him.

"A-and you, Sir?" Asked Rojo, tentatively, still wrapping his head around what he just heard. "What would you call it?"

The general stared at him long and hard before answering.

~o0o~

This place felt familiar… but also alien. Had she been here before? She could not recall. Maybe, maybe not.

She was in a forest, burnt to cinder and ash. The trees had been reduced to pillars of charcoal, burnt black and bare of branches and leaves. The bushes had been charred clean and were but tangled webs of black twigs. Ashes fell from the sky like snow, blanketing the world below in gray flakes. Not a single sound of life could be heard in this dead forest.

There was but one sign of life in this barren landscape; a path cutting through the thick ash. It cut through the blankets of dead matter, like a trench carved through soil. She could see footprints along the path, fresh ones. She felt compelled to follow them. Maybe they would lead her someplace warm. It was dreadfully cold out here.

Silver followed the tracks through the forest of ash, hoping they would lead her to… something. The further in she walked however, the more she saw the same burnt trees and ash blankets. But that did not deter her. There was a path, and where there is a path there is something of note waiting at its end, such was the nature of things.

Silver wrapped her cloak tightly around herself, trying to keep warm. The forest was cold, even for one of her level of endurance. She quickened her pace, remembering that movement generated heat. Alas the cold's bite only worsened, like it had taken offense to her decision.

How far must I go, Silver wondered? How far until I find the end of this path?

She received her answer when she reached the top of an ash covered hill. She saw a small valley there, near the base of the hill, devoid of dead trees and bushes. A structure sat in its center, unburnt and undamaged by whatever destroyed the forest surrounding it. It was of Dustling creation, Silver was sure of this, but she was not concerned. She was excited.

Light beamed from behind its windows, indicating warmth and occupation. There was heat in there, and Dustlings too. She would kill them, bath in their warm blood, and dry herself by whatever heat source they had in there.

Silver slid down the hill, sending up a plume of ash in her wake. She did not care for stealth here. This was an isolated dwelling, far from its nest. She need not worry about causing a commotion. Silver sped for the door and gripped its handle. She wrenched the door off with a swing of her arm. She threw the piece of wood aside and charged inside, ready to rip the Dustlings to piec-

… …

… …

Silver blinked in stupefied bafflement at the sight that greeted her. She found herself not in the home of Dustling, but upon a cliff overlooking a cloudy night sky. The moon shone brightly through the clouds, motes of pale light shot through the bodies of water vapor like spears, illuminating a dozen patches of virgin snow.

This made no sense. Silver had been in a dead forest, burned and covered in ashes. She had entered a Dustling's home, a place far too small to house anything this-

Silver turned, trying to find the door she had passed through, but to her horror, saw only an unfamiliar forest. One filled with trees, unburnt and alive.

"Ru…by…." A gust of wind whispered the word as it blew against Silver's form. She turned back, and saw at the cliff's edge a stone, cut into an unnatural, rectangular shape. Something had been carved onto the face of the stone, but Silver could not see it clearly from here. Curious, she approached the stone.

Closer now, Silver could make out what marred the stone's face. Her eyes widened as she beheld the blooming rose engraved on it, for it was one she knew. It was the same rose that her father had woven onto her cloak, the same rose that marked her Creatures of Grimm, the same rose she bore upon her mask-

… Her mask…

She had lost it on the iron serpent, when that Dustling female interrupted-

Recalling the memory of that battle, Silver unconsciously raised a hand to feel the wound dealt to her, only to gasp and pull her hand back when she felt the hard smoothness of her Grimm mask.

This… this shouldn't be possible! she had lost it, on the train! It had been cut from her body, she had felt it leave her, felt the pain of its separation from her flesh. How? How had she regained it?

She hadn't…

"Ru…by…" A second gust of wind whispered as a terrible realization dawned on Silver.

She had fallen asleep.

She was dreaming.

"Reee…memmm…beeerr…"

And it was here…

Without a second thought, Silver bolted for the trees. A harsh wind screamed behind her, demanding she return. Silver didn't listen. She knew what the wind really was, and she would not fall prey to it again.

She wove gracefully through the snow-covered forest, making sure to stick to the places where the shadows flourished. It hated the dark, perhaps even feared it. If she stayed in the darkness of the forest, there was a chance she could evade it entirely.

If she could wake up before it reached her.

"Don't run!" Something hissed into Silver's ear. She pushed down the urge to strike at the voice, knowing that to do so would only slow her down. Instead she activated her Semblance, bursting through the forest as a mass of speeding rose petals.

This quickly proved itself a mistake. A powerful gust of wind hit the cloud of petals with the force of a hurricane. As she was, Silver could not fight against the wind. She reverted back to her original form and crashed into the frozen ground of the cliffside clearing.

She jumped to her feet, ready to run back into the shadowy confines of the forest and start the chase all over again.

"Please, don't run," begged a voice dripping with sincerity Silver didn't trust. She didn't listen to it and barreled for the trees a second time.

Only to freeze in her tracks as the entire forest vanished before her eyes.

This is a dream, she told herself. Wake up! It's not real, wake up!

"You will not wake up…" the voice announced, making Silver tense. Had it heard her thoughts? "I hear everything in this place…"

Spears of harsh light pierced the cloud-filled sky, far too bright and forceful to belong to the Moon. The snow melted where the lights touched, and ground beneath it burned. Silver swung her head left and right, searching desperately for something she might take shelter in. But as more clouds gave way to the cursed light, the Heir realized she had nowhere to hide.

Wake up! She demanded. Wake up, wake up, wake up, WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP!

"You cannot wake up… not yet…" The voice replied in a strange tone. "Don't fear the light… it will heal you of your corruption…" it hissed that last word.

"Light does not heal!" Silver shouted back. "It only blinds and burns!"

Silver clenched her eyes shut and curled up on the ground, wrapping her cloak around herself as tightly as she could in a last-ditch effort to escape the light.

As she lay there, she felt the light hit her concealed body, felt its terrible heat and hunger against her back, but there was no bite to it, no pain. It could not pierce the shadows woven into the cloak by her father, they were too strong. Relived joy filled the Heir's heart as she lay beneath the darkness's protection.

"NO!" It shrieked, and Silver took satisfaction from the rage and sorrow in it's voice. "Do not hide in the shadows! Come out! They are evil, they are vile, they harbor monsters and demons! Come out, out into the light. Come out and see what darkness really is. Please… come out…"

"It is the light that is evil!" Silver shouted back, her courage building as it despaired. "It burns those that oppose it, it blinds those that stare into it. Darkness welcomes all. Darkness comforts all! Darkness protects all those that enter it form harm, while light helps those that peruse them!"

A part of Silver wondered why she was even arguing with this thing. It wasn't real, just a phantom of her mind.

A mournful wail cut through the air, a terrible sound of grief, frustration and madness. It reminded Silver of an enraged beast, and she tensed herself in anticipation of some sort of attack.

Instead, she heard the scream transform into bleating sobbing. The light started to dim, the heat on her back abated and soothing cold replaced it. The Heir lay there, for a time, unsure of what to do.

It was still there, she could tell from the crying, but the light had faded. Why? Had it given up? Was it trying to trick her in some way? Appeal to a sense of empathy she did not possess?

No… it was no trick. Silver could feel its sorrow, its grief and desperation. It was distraught, truly distraught, that it had failed to remove the blessings her father had bestowed upon her.

But why?

Why was it so determined to harm Silver in the first place? To rob her of the power she possessed? Was she a threat to it somehow? Did it wish to take the role of Grimm Heir for itself? Did it simply wish to torture her? To slowly burn her-

"NO!" it wailed through the tears. "No, no, no! I never sought you harm, my precious Ruby! I sought to save you, not harm!"

That word again, ruby…

"The darkness inside you is strong, rooted deep within your soul," it continued, overcoming the sobs that muddled its voice. "It is too strong to remove painlessly. I must burn it away so that you can return-"

"I will never return to being a Dustling!" Silver snarled out, all fear forgotten. "I am the Siren! The Inheritor of the World, Butcher of Dustlings, Drinker of Souls, Heir of the Grimm, Daughter of the Overlord!" The aberration made a strange sound, but Silver did not hear. Retribution for all the confusion and suffering it caused her in her dreams fueled the Heir ever onward in her hateful tirade. "The seas will turn to fire and the mountains will crumble to dust before I ever choose to become a filthy, weak, disgusting Dustling!"

"You are my daughter!" It shouted back, all sorrow lost, replaced by madness and rage. "MY DAUGHTER! MINE! NOT THE GRIMM FATHER'S, MINE! IT WAS FROM MY WOMB YOU WERE BORN, FROM MY BREAST YOU SUCKLED, FROM MY EFFORTS KEPT SAFE, NOT THAT MONSTER'S! YOU ARE MINE!"

Silver felt the light return, but it felt different, hotter, hungrier, more malevolent. Slivers of this new light pierced her cloak, stabbing into her flesh like serrated needles. Silver screamed. Something inside her told her to run, but to the Heir's terror rooted her in place.

Helpless, Silver could do nothing but writhe as her only means of defense was slowly ripped apart by the phantom that plagued her dreams. She looked up at it, silver-black eyes glaring hatefully into empty, glowing, white ones.

"I will free you from the corruption that has claimed you, Ruby," her dead mother said, smiling sadly as she brought a pale hand up to cup Silver's cheek. "Whether you want me to or not." Bright light erupted out from the phantom's glowing eyes, cascading over Silver's constrained form and stabbing into her soul with merciless cruelty.

And as the Grimm Heir was enveloped by the purifying, agonizing light, she screamed out for help.

"DADDY!"

Author's Note: Well… This doesn't bode well, does it? A quick clarification: Rojo and Silver's scenes don't take place immediately after Qrow's or each other's. Rojo scene takes place a few hours after Oz and Ironwood's talk and Silver's dream… well, time flows differently in dreams so, yeah take from that what you will.

Again, I apologize for how long this took me to write and for how short it is. I really had no idea how I wanted it to go for the longest time. My friend OnyxRex helped me out a lot here, coming up with ideas and rough drafts for me. Its thanks to him I have a basic idea of how the next chapter will go down, and then we reach something that I REALLY can't wait to show you guys. Hehehehehe…

By the way, for any of you who consider yourselves writers, I recently posted a story challenge for a RWBY/Jurassic Park crossover. Check it out, and if you think you've got what it takes, I encourage you to take the challenge.

As Always: Please, Fav, Follow, and Review! Thank You!

DeadRich18 Out!