Released on: March 20, 2020.


Water. Earth. Fire. Air.

Long ago, the four nations coexisted in harmony. Together, they stood against the forces of Grimm, creatures of nightmare hailing from another world.

Only the Avatar could master all four elements. Only he could banish the Grimm. But when the world needed him most… he vanished.

Remnant learned to truly fear the Grimm. And just as it seemed like things couldn't get any worse… The Fire Nation attacked.

Fifteen years have passed since chaos descended upon Remnant, but now a new Avatar awakens: my daughter, a young airbender named Ruby. And although her airbending skills are great, she still has a lot to learn before she's able to save anyone.

But I believe that Ruby can save the world.


Book Three: Fire

Chapter Nine: The Dragon's Throat


"All prisoners off the ship! Single file! Eyes to the ground!"

Yang obeyed all the orders grudgingly, except for that last one. If she didn't get off the ship of her own volition, they'd just drag her out, and if she made disorder in the line, everyone else would suffer for it too. But there was nothing and no one stopping her from letting her gaze wander.

She took in her surroundings. The harbor they'd docked at appeared normal, but the island it was built on was anything but. There was some firm ground and sand at first, but shortly after, the walls of a volcano rose off the island floor, and they ascended until they nearly touched the clouds. Embers and particles of ash hung in the air, and though she'd barely stepped off the ship, Yang could already feel the dry heat on her skin.

As the last prisoner walked off the ramp and settled into the line behind her, the ship's captain started rattling names off a list. Yang tuned him out, finding his voice very annoying, and leaned back a little to cast a look at the ocean beneath the pier. She couldn't know from a look alone, but it had to be hot – scalding, really. Firebender or not, she didn't want to fall into those waters. An escape by swimming was out of the question – though it wasn't like there was any land nearby that she could feasibly swim to anyway.

Yang looked up. There were other piers along the harbor, six in total, and half of them had a ship anchored beside it. She wondered why the prison needed so many ships – surely the demand to transport prisoners in and out of the island wasn't so great? Regardless, the ships exposed a vulnerability in the system. If she could somehow get control of-

"Eyes down!" the captain stopped midway through the list to bellow at her. "What part of that did you not understand?"

He walked up to her, getting right in her face, and Yang met his eyes without flinching. "The part that explains why I should do anything you tell me to," she said.

"You're not home anymore, little princess. Here, punishment is real, and we're not afraid to dole it out if you ask for it," the captain said. "You will fall in line."

"Make me."

Yang raised her chin, and the captain's face reddened with anger. A moment later, however, it all drained from his face as he cast a glance down at her hands. Even cuffed, her Grimm claws were a fearsome sight, and Yang made sure to flex them when she caught him looking.

Clearing his throat, the captain turned away suddenly and resumed the list. The other prisoners shuffled uncomfortably at her sides, some throwing intense glares her way, but Yang ignored them. She didn't know any of their names, though they obviously knew hers. They had avoided all interaction with her while they were stuck together in the ship, and not only because of who her family was.

Yang didn't care. They could feel as repulsed by her as they liked – they didn't know her, so what did it matter?

That was what she told herself, at least.

The last name was called, and then the captain signaled for the rest of the crew to lead the prisoners along the pier towards the volcano. Halfway to the entrance, Yang felt a shift in the air, as if the temperature had spiked a couple degrees. The metal under Yang's feet started to tremble, and everyone stopped walking as a deafening sound like a roar came from somewhere within the facility.

Suddenly, the trembling stopped, and a shadow fell over them. Yang's heart seemed to stop for a full second as she looked up and saw, climbing out of the top of the volcano, massive claws tearing at the rock walls and wings unfurling to blot out the sun, an ancient golden dragon of legend.

The creature unleashed another roar, and with a short but momentous flexing of its four legs, pushed itself off the volcano and soared away in the air. The other prisoners and the ship's crew ran towards the inside of the volcano, but Yang remained where she stood, watching in amazement as the dragon flew towards a nearby point in the ocean. The waters there were unruly, as if they were being buffeted by an invisible storm, and Yang could swear she saw an already gigantic shadow growing bigger and bigger beneath the surface.

Before whatever that shape was could emerge from the water, a guard came running behind Yang and poked her back with the blunt end of a spear, sending her sprawling forward. She shouted and kicked angrily at the man, but he only poked her again and again, forcing her to move along until they were inside. The dragon's roars faded behind them.

Yang fell in line beside the other prisoners, and again with the utmost confidence started to take in her surroundings. She had expected to see bridges of natural rock and prison cells carved into the walls, and that was mostly what she got. For as unorthodox a location the prison had been built in, the place was fairly advanced in its construction. Most of the facilities had been built upon natural rock indeed, but it was all reinforced heavily by metal – steel or platinum, even, if Yang's eyes didn't deceive her. There were many levels to the structure, with stairs connecting them, and walls demarcating the different sections for prisoners and staff.

Whatever Fire Lord had ordered the construction of the Dragon's Throat, they'd had way too much of an imagination. Or maybe they just hated people that much.

"Prisoners!" A man wearing an ornate uniform, with a golden insignia of the Fire Nation on his chest, stepped forth and faced them. "Welcome to the Dragon's Throat. You've been transported here to be contained, for the safety of your compatriots, because in one way or another – it does not matter to me – you committed the highest crime of treason against your nation!"

Grumbles came from the prisoners in response, none of them agreeing with what he said, but that was all the protest they gave. Only Yang wasn't shy in her rebellion, staring straight at the man with her hands hovering taut near her lap.

"I am your primary caretaker, your Warden, and you will refer to me as so," he said nasally, and by the cynical look on his face, the last thing he considered himself to be was a caretaker. "Follow the rules, cooperate with the guards, and your stay here will not be unpleasant. Refuse to do so, and we have ways to correct that. Understood?"

Not a word came from the prisoners. The Warden watched for a moment, then turned and started gesturing for the guards nearby, who organized the prisoners in a single file and started leading them away. Before they could get far, however, the Warden's eyes fell on Yang, and he put up a hand.

"Wait! This one." He walked over to her. "The Fire Lord's daughter. Princess Yang Xiao Long. Or, former princess, I should say."

"Just Yang is fine," she replied. "But really, I'd prefer if you never spoke my name."

"I was told you would be transferred here," the Warden said, glossing over her impudence. He looked at her hands and turned his nose, then looked at one of his guards. "This one is to be kept separate from the rest. Are any of the isolation chambers available?"

"They're all already in use, sir."

"Hmm. Then empty one of the regular cells and put her in there. Alone," the Warden said.

"I don't need special treatment," Yang hissed.

"Don't be arrogant. This is not for you, it's for the safety of the other inmates," the Warden said. "By consequence, you'll also be safer. I'm sure there are some here who would be happy to tear you to shreds. This way I won't have to deal with the headache."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone!" Yang exclaimed, her face heating up.

"Sure you won't." The Warden glanced at her arm again, then clapped his hands, and the guards started to lead the prisoners away.

Yang hadn't even been shown her cell yet and she was already being singled out, and in front of dozens of her soon-to-be fellow inmates. She could tell this was going to be a hellish experience.


Or a very boring one.

Yang spent all of her first day locked inside her cell with nothing to do. It was located at one of the lowest levels, and she had lost count of how many stairs she'd been forced to descend to get there. She had a bed made of stone, a pillow with only half filling, and that was it. The cell itself was carved into the wall of the volcano, and the bars were made of a metal so thick even the most intense firebending would take long to melt them.

She'd stared at the ceiling and cursed her mother for discarding her like a defective doll, and she also cursed herself for letting it happen in the first place. It wasn't her fault Raven was such a monster, but Yang had forced her hand. But it had been worth it to get Weiss out of Vacuo – and hopefully, Yang had also landed a blow against her mother's authority.

She eventually went to sleep, which wasn't at all restful, and hours later she woke up with a guard in front of her cell. He had a set of keys in his hands, as was searching for the right one with shaky fingers. By the faint sunlight behind him, Yang could only guess it was morning.

After finally finding the key, the guard unlocked the cell and pulled open the door, then gestured vaguely with his lance. Yang sat up in her bed and gave him a confused look. Was she expected somewhere?

"Recreation," the guard said simply, and she stood up and walked out of the cell. She wasn't going to complain about the chance to move her muscles a little.

They descended even further down the volcano, taking stair after stair, and on the way, Yang got a better look at the other inmates as she passed by them. She was astonished to find that most of the cells were housing four to five people at a time, when they appeared to have been designed for at most two. They looked absolutely miserable. Suddenly she felt guilty that her worst problem so far had been boredom.

Going down one last set of stairs, Yang and the guard reached the bottom floor of the facility. It wasn't the actual bottom of the volcano itself, though they were surely below sea level at this point. The thought made Yang anxious. All it would take was for one section of the walls to cave in a bit, and then…

Yang received a light push on the shoulder, and was sent stumbling past the threshold of a metal door. She turned around just in time to see the door being closed behind her. The area around her was expansive, and relatively open, but she had no misgivings about being any less than a captive. There were solid walls surrounding the place, too tall to be climbed, and dozens of guards watched from catwalks above, ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble.

Yang walked away from the door, casting a look at the area around her. There were a lot of people around, maybe close to eighty, making the space feel cramped despite its size. Most of the prisoners were standing in tight circles, conversing with each other, while others were sitting on the floor by themselves. A few daring ones were exercising as best they could - without any actual firebending, of course.

"Some recreation," Yang muttered, and walked over to a bench on a corner. She doubted anyone would want to talk to her, so she would save herself the stares and sit alone with her thoughts. She could have done so in her cell – she'd already been doing so – but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Leaning back, Yang rested her head on the wall and turned her eyes to the blue sky high above, past the top of the volcano. It was so far away, it was a wonder the sunlight even reached this far down.

She closed her eyes. That dragon… She didn't know why, but the memory of it gave her a strange peace of mind. Where was it now, she wondered. She'd heard it fly back to the prison yesterday, but since then there had been not a hint of its presence. Maybe it was sleeping somewhere within the walls, closer to the top.

If she could somehow find it and get close to it… Yang didn't know why she would ever want to do that – the dragon would probably roast her alive as soon as it saw her - but it was an exciting thought. How she'd manage such a feat, however, was beyond her grasp.

"Well look what I've found!" a shrill voice interrupted Yang's thoughts. "Is this a royal brat I spy?"

Yang opened one eye. Standing in front of her was a girl around her age, with bushy orange hair and a feline tail swiveling behind her. She had fashioned her prison pants into a skirt, and cut off the bottom half of her shirt to expose her midriff. Her hands were on her hips, and she was leaning towards Yang with a smile on her lips that was at the same time peppy and ridiculing.

Yang was already annoyed. "Can I help you?" she asked, sitting straight on the bench and crossing her arms.

"Why would you assume I wanted your help?" the girl said, snorting. "Nope! I was just wanting to make introductions, really!" She stepped back and gestured at herself, wiggling her fingers, as if she were some sort of divine emissary. "My name's Neon. And my friend's here is Flynt."

She gestured with her head, and Yang saw a boy with sun-kissed skin and trimmed hair step up to her side. He had a severe expression on his face, which coupled with his clenched fists, gave Yang the clear impression that he wasn't at all fond of her.

"Yang," she introduced herself, though obviously the pair already knew who she was. "…Cool. Nice to meet you two."

She started to lean back again, only for Neon to step close, her tail whipping left and right with an aggressive energy. "So, what did you do to end up here? Did you make mommy mad?"

"Something like that," Yang said, pursing her lips. "You?"

"Same," Neon said. "I mean, I also made your mommy mad, so she threw me in here." She shrugged. "I wish I knew what I did wrong, but oh well. No use in dwelling on things, am I right, princess?"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Yang said. "The Fire Lord's not the most reasonable person around. I'd know that, trust me."

"Oh yeah, of course I trust you. I trust you implicitly," Neon said, and gestured at Yang's Grimm arm. "So how did you get that thing?"

Yang froze for a split second, then shifted on the bench as she futilely sought a way to conceal her arm. Once she realized what she was doing, she stopped immediately in the middle of it, and glared up at Neon.

"That's none of your business," Yang said. "Did you actually want something, or did you just walk up to bother me?"

Neon's smile withered, all pretenses of friendliness and civility dropped in a second. Eyes narrowed, she threw Yang an acidic look and scoffed.

"I'm so sorry for taking up your precious time, Your Most Prestigious Highness," she said. "You must have a lot of very important business to take care of, and here I am, distracting you with my plebeian presence! How rude of me!"

"Right, so you did just walk up to bother me," Yang said, getting up. "Good talk."

She walked away, heading towards the door she'd come in through. Recreation wasn't over yet, but maybe she could talk to a guard and be escorted back to her room. It wasn't like she'd been having heaps of fun anyway.

"Oh no! Did we ruin your morning?" Neon said, catching up to her, with Flynt following close behind. "Gosh, we didn't mean to. And now you have to retreat to your room? I mean, it's so terrible, with all that free space and privacy! You must be suffering so badly, woe is the princess!"

"Did you hear me complaining?" Yang whirled around, setting her eyes on Neon. "I'll trade places with you if you're gonna keep crying about it. I'm sure we can work something out with the guards."

"I don't want your help!" Neon spat.

"Great! So that's settled," Yang said. She turned to face Flynt, who appeared to be attempting to drill a hole into her skull with his eyes only. "And you. What did I do to piss you off?"

Flynt cracked his knuckles and walked up to her. Neon stepped aside and nodded to him, as if giving him the stage.

"My dad ran a business selling natural resources from the Fire Nation islands to the outside world," he spoke for the first time. "He started before I was even born, up to a couple months ago. He did it for almost three decades… Until your mother decided that she didn't like that he did business with the Earth Kingdom, and put a stop to all of it. All of it." He shook his head. "My family was left dirt poor, and our reputation was ruined. And then when I went to the Fire Lord to make a case for us, she brushed me off and sent me away. Next day, I'm put on a ship, and now I'm here."

"Listen, that sucks," Yang said. "I'm sorry that-"

"You wanna know why Neon is here too?" Flynt said, ignoring her. "She saw me being dragged away in the street and tried to get the guards to let me go, or at least explain what was going on. You can see how that worked out for her!"

Yang flinched under the combined stares of Flynt and Neon. If what Flynt said was true, they had no reason to be here. A part of her wanted to believe her mother wasn't capable of such unwarranted cruelty, but she knew better, even without all the evidence surrounding her.

"I'm sorry that happened to you. You guys don't deserve to be here, that's for sure," Yang said, wrapping her arms around her torso. "My mother's insane. But I don't have anything to do with her anymore – I haven't, for the longest time. I'm here because I spoke out against her. And before that…"

"Oh, so you spoke out against her, did you?" Neon scoffed. "Wow. Such bravery!"

"You're the Fire Lord's daughter, you've been complicit in everything she does your entire life. You honestly think throwing a hissy fit and getting sent to time-out makes you one of us?" Flynt shook his head. "The way I see it, you're the only person in this hole who deserves to be here."

Yang clenched her fists. These people didn't know her. Even if… even if there was the slightest hint of truth to what they said, what right did they have to judge her? She hadn't made any assumptions of them, and they were locked up in the most dangerous prison in the world. Maybe she should have made assumptions.

"Ooh. I think you struck a nerve," Neon said, leaning over to Flynt. "What now? You gonna scream at us or something? Ship us off to another, even worse prison?"

"You really like to hear yourself speak, don't you?" Yang took a step forward, letting her fists hover stiffly at her sides. "I think I'll settle for fixing that."

"Just like your momma, huh?" Flynt smirked. "Awesome. Can't lie and say I wasn't hoping for this."

Neon looked Yang up and down again, her eyes pausing shortly at her Grimm hand. "Actually, how about you let me handle her, okay?" she said, putting a hand on his chest. "The princess here needs some respect instilled into her, and imagine how much more it'll sting when it's done by someone ten times prettier than her."

Flynt gave her a long look, as if it pained him to not get his hands dirty himself, but he walked away. Once he was at a safe distance, Neon faced Yang and started hopping lightly on the spot, alternating which foot left the ground in irregular intervals, as if following a beat only she could hear. The buzzing of conversations in the recreation area died down as the other inmates gathered around them in a wide circle, excited to watch was what obviously going to be a grisly fight.

Neon was the first to make a move, before Yang had even psyched herself up properly. She dashed forward, throwing a swift uppercut, which barely missed Yang's chin as she danced to the side. That only proved to be a distraction, as not a second later Neon spun and threw all her weight into her elbow, sinking it into Yang's belly and driving her backwards, out of breath.

"Oh! You're kinda slow, aren't you?" Neon said, smiling ear-to-ear. "Don't worry, babe. I'm not gonna take it easy on you because of that. That'd just be insulting!"

She darted forward again, but this time Yang was prepared, blocking a blow with her left forearm. In the seconds that Neon winded down and considered how to work around her defenses, Yang threw herself forward, reaching with her Grimm hand towards Neon's throat. Midway through the movement, she realized what exactly she was about to do, and faltered. Her hand found Neon's left shoulder instead, claws grazing the faunus' skin, but before she could sink them into flesh, Neon batted her wrist and slid away.

"Eeew! What are you trying to do, grabbing me with that thing!" Neon shouted, looking around at the crowd for a second, before she faced Yang again and grimaced. "Were you going to rip off my arm or something? You really are a freak!"

"Shut up!" Yang said. "You're the one who picked a fight, you screechy moron!"

"And you're the one trying to end it so fast!" Neon put her hands on her waist. "Tough luck. You got your one chance, and you're not gonna get another one. I'm too quick for you to catch – or rather, you're too slow!" She grinned, gesturing at Yang's top. "Maybe that's why you're here! Did mommy think this would be the only way to get you to stick to a diet?"

"What – what are you, twelve?" Yang said, face turning red.

"I don't mean to put you down, babe," Neon giggled. "It's just that I have to tell it like I see it."

Roaring, Yang dashed at Neon, trying to grab her arm again, to throw her to the ground and keep her there, but before her hand could close around her, Neon dodged aside and gracefully slid around Yang until she was at her back. Yang whirled around at once, reaching for something to hold on to, but once again Neon slipped away from her reach.

Yang barely gave a thought to what was happening anymore, her emotions running high as she set off madly after Neon. It was infuriating, how every time she thought she had the grinning idiot cornered, she'd find some way to escape her grasp. It wasn't an effortless endeavor by Neon, as she did seem to be struggling to keep out of her reach, her smile faltering as time went on, but that hardly made Yang feel any better.

With her patience running thin, Yang forgot about prudence and just threw herself at Neon, hoping to at least catch her by surprise with the move. Though startled, Neon managed to skip to the side just in time, and a second later she was on the other side of their makeshift arena. Yang braced herself from the fall, and after a moment on her knees, breathing hard, rose to her feet again.

Yang turned around to face Neon and wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. Suddenly she was very aware of the crowd around her, and the jeers they were throwing her way. Of course they were delighted that she was making a fool of herself. Who would be cheering for her in a place like this?

"Tuckered out, Your Highness?" Neon said, raising her voice above the noise of the crowd.

Yang didn't dignify her with a response. What was even trying to do, going easy on her, just settling for catching her? Yang could do much better than that, and despite her arm, it didn't have to turn out ugly. She could teach Neon just who she'd chosen to mess with.

Breathing in, Yang channeled all her frustration, drawing it from the pit of her stomach, holding it in her lungs for a second before she sent it down her arms. With a yell, she thrust them forward, willing her rage into something physical.

From her right hand, the Grimm one, the evil one, nothing came out. But from her left hand came a salvo of bright-red fire which ignited the air in front of her, drawing gasps from the crowd and a startled yelp from Neon herself. The fire streaked towards Neon, reaching half the distance to her, a little past, three quarters – and then fizzled out at once, fading in the heated atmosphere of the volcano.

Silence hung. Yang slowly lowered her hands, dread rising in the back of her throat as she waited for the inevitable – and then the jeers returned, accompanied by much raucous laughter. Her fright passed, Neon smiled again, more demeaning than ever.

"Wow. You almost had me there for a second," she said. "What was that, some kind of trick someone taught back home? Maybe when you were a little kid and less, you know." She gestured at Yang again. "It was just adorable."

Yang swallowed dry, the shame burning hot in her ears. "Shut – s-shut up."

"Aw, are you going to cry now? I'm sorry." Neon pouted. "If it makes you feel any better, I could show you what real firebending looks like…"

She lifted her fists, and Yang saw fire licking around her fingers. Great – the idiot was a firebender too. Like Yang hadn't been humiliated enough already.

Before Neon could attack her, someone stepped out of the crowd and came to stand between the dueling pair. At first confused, Yang's eyes widened as she recognized none other than her uncle Qrow, clad in the same prison clothes as everyone around them.

"As fun as this little show's been," he said, looking at Neon. "I think we've all had enough for one morning. Wouldn't you agree?"

Neon seemed immediately struck by his presence, though whether it was fear or admiration she felt, Yang couldn't quite place. She didn't need any further argument, but for good measure Qrow nodded upward, towards where the guards were observing with hardened eyes.

"Right…" Neon said. "I'll back off, for now. But don't think we're done, princess!"

She stuck out her tongue at Yang, then found Flynt and walked away. The crowd slowly dispersed, and Qrow approached Yang, giving warning looks to anyone that stared at them for too long.

"Uncle Qrow," Yang said, barely believing her eyes. "I didn't know you were here. How did you-"

Suddenly she remembered her arm, how hideous it looked, and tried to hide it behind her. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Qrow took a moment more to take in their surroundings, before he finally looked down at her, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Not here," he whispered. "Come with me, and then we can talk."


Qrow led her out of the recreation area, getting the guard stationed at the door to open it after a brief exchange. They went up the prison without a word being directed their way, the guards seemingly unbothered that Qrow was moving about unsupervised, even with Yang accompanying him.

"It's nothing big," Qrow said when he saw her looking at him quizzically. "The prison is so crowded, they'll take any help they can get running the place. Simple stuff – like cleaning up after these rascals, getting the floors all shiny – you get the gist."

"That… doesn't sound like you at all," Yang said.

"Well, in return, I get some leeway," Qrow said, shrugging. "As long as I don't get to any funny business, and remain perfectly polite to my superiors, of course."

He shot her a significant look, and Yang understood that he didn't fully respect either of these rules, but what the guards didn't know, couldn't hurt them. And him, for that matter.

They reached the floor just below the entrance, and Qrow pulled her aside into a cell. She took it to be his own, and from the looks of it, he didn't seem to share it with anyone. Perks of being a good prisoner, she supposed.

"We should be okay to talk here," Qrow said. "People know better than to snoop around my place. And the guards don't bother watching this floor during recreation." He sat down on the edge of his bed and clapped his hands. "Well, are you going to just stand there all day?"

Yang quickly sat down beside him, to his right, so that her Grimm arm was mostly hidden from sight Her free hand went to her lap, and she tapped her thigh anxiously.

"So," Yang said. "Uhm, how did you end up here? Dad and I, we didn't hear about you for months."

"It isn't much of a story, really," Qrow said. "You remember that I saved you two's stupid heads from my dear sister, back at the Rift. Obviously, I wasn't a real match for her, and she didn't let me run away either. So when she was done yelling at me, she had me put in cuffs and taken away for treason. I've been here for… six months, I think."

"Uncle… I'm so sorry," Yang said, sighing. "It's my fault you're here. If I hadn't decided to confront my mother back then, you wouldn't have had to rescue me, and you wouldn't have gotten captured. And it's not like anything good came of it anyway…"

"You're assuming I wouldn't have gotten captured anyway, a day or a month later," Qrow said. Yang raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. "Yeah, I can't keep a straight face about that either. No way anyone would have grabbed me. But you shouldn't blame yourself. I've been antagonizing Raven for years – it was about time I got my due."

He hadn't presented any argument for why Yang wasn't the reason why he was here, and that didn't pass her by. She felt awful. Qrow might not hold it against her, but that didn't change the fact that he was locked up in a sweltering ocean rock in the middle of nowhere, and had been for months – all because of her actions.

"You… don't seem all that surprised that I'm here," Yang said, and it had never been harder to ignore the loathsome sensation of her right arm.

"I heard rumors that a certain princess was being shipped to the Dragon's Throat," Qrow said. "I've been here so long that I've managed to establish a bit of a network. I might not have ears all around the world anymore, but word gets to me."

"How much do you know?" Yang asked.

"Well, I know you pissed off Raven somehow, and that's why you're here. The exact details elude me," Qrow said. "I also know that you've been through a lot since we last met." He paused. "But nobody had to whisper that in my ear. That's something my eyes told me the moment I saw you in the courtyard."

Yang bowed her head. Was she that easy to read? No wonder people had picked a fight with her.

"Show me," Qrow said. "The arm."

Yang flinched. He wanted to look at her arm? Why? It was… disgusting. He was her family, why would he ever want to-

"Do I have to wrestle you?" Qrow's voice was like dynamite in her ears. A moment later, he softly added, "Yang, I'm not going to think of you any differently. I just want to look."

Yang straightened her back, and after a few seconds' deep breathing, she managed to steel herself enough that she wasn't shaking too badly. Slowly, she parted her arm from her torso, then turned slightly to face Qrow, and presented it to him, hovering above her lap. She expected him to recoil at the sight, but his face barely changed as he leaned over to examine it up close. The worst Yang saw in his eyes was concern, but mostly he appeared curious, in a medical sense.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Not really?" Yang replied unsurely. "I mean, it did at first. But I'm not sure it hurt. It was more because the real one was missing, if that makes any sense?"

"It does to me," Qrow said. "Are you used to it yet?"

"I don't think this is something you get used to," Yang said.

Qrow nodded, and leaned away. He stared at her outstretched hand a moment more, then met her eyes.

"Roaming around the frontlines of the war, I've seen and met a lot of people who got injured badly. Lost limbs, addled minds. It's never a pretty sight," he said. "I'm not going to tell you to wear this with pride." He paused. "But it's your reality now. You'll get no use out of hiding it. Or being ashamed of it."

Biting her lip, Yang lowered her arm and looked away. Maybe she ought to be offended that Qrow was treating her injury like any other – as if anyone else in the world could even compare to what she was going through. But there was comfort in knowing she wasn't that unique. If other people had gotten better, then so could she. Hopefully.

"So what did you do to piss your mother off?" Qrow said, moving along fast. He was rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe he wasn't as comfortable with this kind of talk as he'd like her to believe.

"I mean, a bunch of things. It would probably be easier to list off the things I did that didn't piss her off," Yang said. "I don't even know what's going on with her anymore. It's like she was trying to be supportive for once, like by giving me space in the palace and letting me keep Zwei around. But she also had Weiss locked up like an animal, and she let Cinder walk around like she's not a total psycho who blew up my arm."

"Sounds like she was trying to domesticate you," Qrow said. "Protect you from the dangers she herself was creating. Like a good mother."

"Exactly!" Yang nodded. "Well, I wasn't going to live with that crap. I got the chance to help Weiss escape, but I had to distract mother and Cinder. I figured that was never gonna end well for me, so I confronted her about the war, the Air Nomads, and Dad and Ruby, in front of her officers."

"Undermining her authority, and poking her right where it hurts," Qrow said. "Very clever of you."

"Thanks." Yang tried not to appear too smug about it. "Hopefully it'll pay off. The palace was not a fun place to be, but this is even worse."

"Raven's been moving troops to the Earth Kingdom coast, correct?" Qrow said.

"Yeah. I think she's aiming for one last confrontation with the Earth Kingdom," Yang said. "Do you think we – she stands a chance?"

Qrow stood up and walked to the entrance of his cell, a thoughtful look on his face. He had a presence like he was still in the Earth Kingdom, coordinating his agents across the lands to gather information and disrupt the Fire Lord's plans.

"Raven's growing desperate," he said, looking across to the other cells. "She's clawing for every drop of control she can get. You know this place was filled up past capacity two months ago? It's like every week a new batch of poor souls gets dropped off on the piers."

"Right, I noticed that," Yang said. "Isn't the Dragon's Throat supposed to keep only the most dangerous criminals in the Fire Nation?"

"Yes, but it looks like the standard for what is a dangerous criminal has dropped dramatically recently," Qrow said. "Honestly, most of the people here are alright. They can get rowdy, but who wouldn't, in a place like this?"

"If there are so many prisoners here, and you trust them to be good people, then why haven't you staged a breakout or something? There's a bunch of ships that you could steal to get them out here," Yang said. "I bet you've thought about it. Planned out the whole thing, even."

Qrow looked back at her and grinned. "True, I've made many plans. But I'm sorry to inform you that they would all end in a horrible death for everyone involved."

Yang raised an eyebrow at that, and Qrow walked back into the cell and stood in front of her, arms crossed.

"This thing here, this lovely volcano we're slowly boiling to death inside of, is only part of the prison that is the Dragon's Throat," Qrow said. "The actual prison is what surrounds it. A vast ocean, with not an island in sight for days, infested with the most terrible, primordial Grimm you could ever imagine."

"You're exaggerating," Yang said, frowning. "If the Grimm were so terrible, no one would be able to get close to the volcano."

"You'd think so. Any ship that wandered into these waters would be destroyed in a matter of seconds, and all its passengers devoured," Qrow said. "If it weren't for the dragon. I assume you've seen it?"

Yang nodded. "I caught a glimpse. It was huge."

"And powerful beyond even the Grimm that lurk around here," Qrow said. "The Warden and his people have it under their thrall. Whenever a ship is coming or leaving, they send the dragon out, and it either kills any Grimm that show up, or scares them back into the depths."

Yang sat back, amazed. Growing up, she'd heard many tales about the ancient dragons that used to live in the Fire Nation islands. They'd fly across the seas and make battle with the Grimm, sometimes even making deals to protect people in exchange for food or veneration. She wasn't sure about the validity of those stories – if any one dragon was as powerful as a hundred firebenders, then why would they need to make deals with mere humans? – but that didn't make them any less awesome.

Sadly, the dragons' numbers had dwindled centuries ago, as either they'd become outnumbered by the Grimm or the growth of civilization had stripped away the means of their sustenance – likely both. Most had perished, while others apparently had gone into hiding in deep underwater caves.

"We could take the ships. We could do it easily, even. I think the Warden knows that, too," Qrow said. "But it'd be pointless. If the Grimm don't get us, then the Warden would surely set the dragon on us. Either way, it doesn't end well."

"Well… That sucks," Yang said. "How do they control the dragon?"

"I'm not sure. I have my theories, but," Qrow said. "I'd have to actually get close to it to confirm those. And I quite like my beard as it is right now, not singed at all."

He rubbed his chin, and Yang noted that what he called a beard was nothing more than a stubble, and not a very remarkable one at that.

"So you don't know where the dragon stays?" Yang said, and Qrow grunted in response. "Could you find out for me?"

Qrow paused, giving her a lasting look. "So I see the heat's already getting to your brain." He pondered the request for a moment, before he shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know why you'd want to get anywhere near that beast, but sure, I can do that for you."

"Great!" Yang exclaimed. "I promise to try and not get reduced to ashes."

"I suppose trying's the most I can ask of you," Qrow said, running his hand through his hair. "You're one cocky kid, aren't you? Maybe I should have taken you with me when I jumped ship. Would have made a decent agent, once I taught you some discipline."

Yang scoffed. If her dad had failed to instill that in her, then Qrow would have never stood a chance. Though she did wonder how differently things would have turned out, if he had indeed enlisted her into his… whatever his organization was called.

"You should get back to your cell. Recreation should be over soon, and you don't wanna be seen here by the guards," Qrow said. "Specifically, I don't want you to be seen in my cell when it's over - so shoo with you."

"Alright, alright," Yang said, standing up. "Don't worry, Prison Lord, I'm not gonna blow your cover."

"You better not, or else I'm not enabling you to get gobbled up by a dragon," Qrow said. He waited for her to get to the threshold of his cell before he called to her. "Hey."

Yang turned to look over her shoulder.

"Don't go getting yourself hurt," he said, looking at her with that gruff and caring expression only he was capable of. "…Nice seeing you again, Yang."

Yang smiled at him. "You too, uncle."


It would take three days for Qrow to come back to her with what she'd requested. Taking advantage once again of the prison staff's misplaced attention during recreation, he'd appeared at the door of her cell and whisked her away after a brief word with the nearby guards.

"So you figured out where the dragon sleeps?" Yang asked as he led her up the stairs.

"Keep your voice down, will you?" Qrow said. "Yes. And I'll show you the way. But I don't suppose you'd like to tell me why you want to see it up close?"

"I dunno. The people here are terrible company, and the rest of the time is just boring," Yang said. "I don't suppose you could get me a job?"

"Maybe in a couple weeks. You're not just anyone, I don't wanna raise suspicion," he said, and grumbled something under his breath about hard labor and the youth.

They continued to ascend the volcano, reaching the floors above the main entrance, where Yang had never been before. After reaching the end of a particular set of stairs, Qrow took Yang's arm and pulled her aside, taking her into an opening in the wall of the volcano. It was a sort of tunnel, lit up by torches on the walls, and as they walked further in, they passed a few bifurcations. Yang couldn't tell if these passages were natural, or if they'd been created as part of the prison system.

"Alright. This should be far enough," Qrow said. He stopped and reached under his shirt, producing a folded piece of paper that he handed over to her. "Directions to the dragon's lair, and the way back. Don't stay too long – if you get caught by the guards, I won't be able to help you."

"You're not coming with me?" Yang said, outraged.

"Hell no! I told you, I don't wanna lose my beard," Qrow said. "You're a big girl. You chased your sister all over the world, trying to capture her. This should be a piece of cake in comparison."

Yang pursed her lips. Though Qrow ditching her was annoying, it wouldn't be wise to risk both their hides over something she wanted to do – and with very vague reasoning as well.

"Fine. You can run and hide while I do my thing. My very courageous thing," Yang said, and opened the paper he'd given her. She examined it for a while, making sure she understood the directions, and started walking away.

"When you see your dad again, don't tell him I sent you off to see a dragon!" he yelled after her. "And more importantly, don't tell him I sent you off alone!"

Finding her way wasn't nearly as difficult as Yang would have imagined, as even though there were many forking paths in the tunnels, it quickly became obvious to her that she was meant to go higher and higher in the volcano. After a while she barely had to look at her note when coming upon a fork. If it led up, that was likely the right choice.

The further she went, the hotter it got, to the point of making even a trained firebender like her uncomfortable. The air felt especially dry now, and her eyes were beginning to sting because of it.

When she saw natural light coming from up ahead, she knew she'd found her destination. A rush of hot air hit her face as headed towards the light, her steps quickening despite the dread that now crept its way up the back of her neck.

She exited the tunnels into what appeared to be a stone platform high above the prison, with low, uneven walls. There was no ceiling over it, such that the sky was visible past the top of the volcano, not too far away. If Yang went to the edge, she bet she could have seen the inmates and the guards, though they would have appeared as small as ants.

Yang didn't confirm that theory. She only had eyes for the hulking mass lying on the floor, but a few meters from the entrance archway under which she stood. The dragon's eyes were closed, and it had one wing draped over the greater part of its body, but she wasn't sure it was sleeping. The air in front of its snout rippled with every breath it exhaled, and the ground seemed to shake – though that might have been her overwhelmed mind playing tricks on her.

Now that she was close to it, Yang noticed that the dragon's scales weren't as shiny as they'd first appeared to be, when they had been contrasted against the sun. They were golden still, but there was a rusty texture to them, and she didn't know if they'd always been that way or if it was due to age. Most surprising to her, however, was that the dragon wasn't entirely golden – there were black spots along its body.

No. Not spots. The black she saw was neither scale nor flesh. It was… crystal. Yes, crystal-like things that jutted out of the dragon's body, from the fat of its limbs, under where its wings grew out, and one particularly large crystal that rose from the back of its skull.

Somehow, Yang understood that was she was seeing was anything but natural. Forgetting herself, she took a step towards the dragon – and as soon as her foot touched the ground, the dragon opened its eyes, turned its head to look at her, and lifted itself to face her.

The roar that followed sent Yang to the ground, nearly hitting her head. She managed to brace herself and crawl backwards, only to find herself paralyzed by fear when she looked up. The dragon didn't let up, its roar ringing in her ears like thunder after thunder, and she saw fire building in the confines of its throat…

She was about to die, and in the dumbest way possible. What else had she expected?

It was as she contemplated how stupid she'd been that Yang noticed the dragon wasn't looking at her. Not directly, at least. No, its eyes were focused not on her face and eyes, but on her arm, her right arm. Her Grimm arm.

Finding her strength, Yang managed to jump to her feet, and though it seemed ridiculous, she hid the arm behind her back, while raising her good one at the dragon. It didn't stop roaring, but the fire in its throat seemed to die down, and its eyes softened the slightest bit.

"I'm not a – I'm not here to hurt you!" Yang shouted, her voice lost in the unceasing noise. "I'm a friend!"

She took another step towards the dragon. Her hand shook, as did her legs, as did her everything, but she stood her ground somehow, despite the dragon being one claw swipe away from making her a smear on the floor. Moving her hand up and down slowly, Yang tried to soothe the dragon, in the same way she would an ostrich-horse or, if he was being particularly rowdy, Zwei.

After what felt like an eternity, the dragon closed its mouth. The silence was surreal as the majestic creature lowered its head close to the ground, studying her with piercing blue eyes. Suddenly Yang understood that the dragon was just as intelligent, if not far more so than she was, and the only thing keeping them from communicating plainly was its inability to speak human words.

"Friend," Yang said, her voice frightfully small. It was a wonder she could speak at all, with how fast her heart was racing. "I'm a friend. We're friends. Right?"

The dragon moved to the right, extending its neck so that it could examine her up close. Yang felt its breath wash over her, and it took all her courage not to turn around and flee screaming.

The longer the dragon stared at her, though, the less unnerved she became. There was mistrust in the dragon's eyes, and a wariness that could only come from severe and frequent hurt. It was something all too familiar to her.

An idea came to her mind, and though Yang knew she should have thought twice about it, and being savvy, scrapped it altogether, she went ahead with it anyway. Taking her Grimm arm out from behind her back, she brought it before her. The dragon flinched, a reaction that seemed to ripple its entire body, before its eyes narrowed and turned to meet hers.

They stared at each other, violet and blue eyes searching each other, before the dragon bent its head and gently touched its snout to Yang's forehead. A sob surged up her throat all of a sudden, and she barely managed to contain it.

"You understand," Yang said. "You're the same, aren't you?"

The dragon let out a soft noise, then drew back, casting her a benevolent look. A moment later, its eyes narrowed, and it turned to face the tunnel from where Yang had come. It tapped a claw on the ground, then shook its head at Yang, as if in warning.

Someone's coming. Yang looked around frantically, until she found a narrow break in the wall next to the entrance and threw herself in there. It was a tight fit, and she would be easily discovered if someone were to walk in front of it, but her only other option was jumping over the edge and hoping she only broke a few a few bones instead of all of them.

She heard steps nearing, and seconds later, a trio of men walked into the platform, two of them wielding lances. She identified the unarmed one as the Warden, with his ugly face and arrogant posture.

"What's all this ruckus about? You'll get your food when it's time, so shut it!" he shouted, waving a fist. The dragon huffed at him, but took no further action. "Beast is gonna start making noise now, like it's some untrained pup…"

He looked back at his guards and snorted, and they chuckled in agreement. Facing the dragon again, the Warden reached into his pouch.

"Time for a sweep. Been a few days," the Warden said. "You better do your job well, or you'll go hungry again."

He took out a black crystal just like the ones that protruded from the dragon's body, then gestured at one of his guards and accepted his lance. He smiled cruelly as the dragon began rearing away from him, then lifted the lance and the crystal and slammed them together.

A shrill noise echoed across the platform. The dragon's pupils shrank to a third of their previous size, and it let out a sound stuck somewhere between a roar and a wail. Even from a distance, Yang could see the crystals on its body vibrating, as if they had been struck by the spear too, and just as hard. Terrified, Yang pressed herself further inside her hiding place.

"Go now!" the Warden shouted. "Go, rotten beast, and don't come back until the waters are clean!"

The dragon cried again, then turned and put its front claws on the edge of the platform. With a heave, it launched itself off the ground, colliding clumsily against the wall across. From there, it sank its claws into the rock and pulled itself up until it reached the top of the volcano, at which point it opened its wings fully and flew out of sight.

"There," the Warden said, shaking his head. "See that someone brings a slab of meat to the beast sometime soon, got it? Preferably before it throws another tantrum."

His guards nodded, and they walked away. Once she was sure they were gone, Yang came out in the open, so mad, her shoulders were shaking. She wanted so badly to march after the Warden and teach him a lesson with her fists, but that would hardly have been wise, if only because she would still be trapped in this terrible place with him after she was done.

Frustrated, Yang sat down with her back against the wall, deciding to wait for the dragon to come back. She supposed that could take a while, and she should probably return to the prison proper before her absence was noticed, but she couldn't bring herself to leave, not until she knew the dragon was okay. If that meant putting herself at risk, then so be it.

An hour later, the dragon returned, flying into the volcano and landing directly onto the platform. It curled up on the floor immediately, its tail coiling around its torso tightly. Yang stood up and walked over, and only then it noticed her presence, its nostrils flaring and mouth opening to show rows of fangs. A moment later it seemed to realize who she was, and its rage lessened, though it still appeared guarded.

"Hi," Yang said softly, kneeling in front of it. "Yeah, I'm still here. Couldn't just leave you, now could I?"

The dragon huffed, and bumped its nose against her forehead.

"Did you just kill a bunch of Grimm?" Yang asked, and the dragon's eyes shifted intelligently in answer. "Did they injure you?"

The dragon tilted its head and made a noise with its mouth, the closest thing to a scoff it could produce. It was a noble creature, just as the legends told, but it was also a proud one. How could it not be, with how effortlessly powerful it was?

"These… These crystals," Yang said. "Did they put they into you? They use them to hurt you, to force you to do what they want, don't they?"

The dragon huffed softly. The latter was true, but of the first question, Yang got the impression even the dragon didn't know the answer of. Did it not remember? Had it been too young, or had the event been that traumatic?

Yang pulled back. She wanted to ask, if the Warden and his people kept hurting it so bad, why didn't it just leave the volcano? If it got far enough away, surely that cruel trick with the crystal wouldn't work anymore. But before she could voice that idea, the dragon looked at her for a long moment, then pressed its head to the floor and keened faintly, and that was all the answer Yang needed.

"My name's Yang," she said. After a moment's hesitation, she touched the dragon's head with her good hand, and it hummed at the contact. "I guess you can't really tell me your name, huh? Are you a he?"

The dragon scoffed again.

"Right. Someone as powerful as you, I figured you had to be a she." Yang grinned. "You need a name if we're going to talk, though. How about… Yang Junior?"

The dragon's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Just kidding! That would get confusing fast anyway… Uhm, how about… Leeee… Leena?"

The humor of the name seemed to evade the dragon, and even then, she didn't seem to like the sound of it.

"Jeez, you're a tough one to please," Yang said. "Okay, you can't have a regular person name. You need something that conveys your power and nobility and the ancient lineage of your race." She paused. "How about… Celica?"

The dragon pushed itself up on its feet, then looked down at Yang with eyes that were at the same time patient and uncompromising. You may call me whatever you wish, but you may not name me.

"…Celica it is, then!" Yang said cheerfully. The dragon nodded her indifferent agreeance.

Yang got up and looked behind her.

"I think I should go now," she said. "I wish I could stay longer, but that would get me in trouble. But I'll be back the first opportunity I get, okay?"

Celica stared at her, as if considering what a curious creature she was. Yang could only imagine what she looked like to a dragon's eyes – a tiny human, little more than a child, with a twisted arm and the half-forgotten embers of firebending inside her.

Celica blew at her softly, then turned and settled against the edge of the platform, shielding herself with wings and tail. Yang spent a moment looking at the dragon, so dignified and battered, before she turned and walked away.


The time after that first meeting with Celica was largely uneventful. Yang tried to keep herself from turning apathetic to her situation, but defiance was a tough act to maintain once the days started to blur together and a common routine became apparent.

Every day was the same. Waking up. Recreation for an hour. The same horrid lunch as always. Staring at the ceiling of her cell for hours. Dinner, just as horrid. Then sleep.

Recreation was easily her least favorite part of the day, ironically enough, because it meant contending with Neon and Flynt. They were a constant sight, waiting either outside her cell, or down at the courtyard, to confront her with taunts and barbs. Despite how their first meeting had gone, Yang had quickly risen to the task of going toe-to-toe with them. Their disputes got so heated sometimes that the other inmates had learned to avoid them at all costs, and even the guards were afraid to interfere. It was only by virtue of Yang's boundless self-control that they hadn't come to blows again.

Yet.

The only break in the routine was when she was called to do some work. Qrow had managed to put in a good word for her with the guards, and despite her notoriety, they must have been desperate enough to trust her with a broom and a moderate level of unrestrained movement in the prison.

Yang had regretted asking Qrow to help her get a job after she'd seen just how horrible of a man the Warden was – she would never shed a drop of sweat for someone like him – and she'd almost refused it when he'd told her. But she'd realized the job offered her the perfect cover to sneak away to see Celica, and for that, she was willing to swallow her pride.

She made sure to visit Celica as often as possible without raising suspicion. She could never stay with the dragon for much longer than an hour or two, but that was enough for them to make good conversation – or what passed for conversation with the two of them. Celica didn't talk, but she was a good listener, and she never failed to express herself in a way Yang could understand.

Yang learned that, for a dragon, Celica was not that old, though she was certainly an adult. She had no memory of a mother or father – though apparently it was common for dragons to leave their spawns once they were sufficiently grown and capable of defending themselves. She had killed countless Grimm with her fangs, claws, and fire, something she was reluctantly proud of. She would have had no reservations about it if the kills had been of her own free will, but sadly every Grimm she slayed was at the behest of the humans that enslaved her.

In return, Yang told Celica all she could about her life and her family. Celica paid rapt attention, and even comforted Yang during the rougher parts. Perhaps it was arrogance on Yang's part to think so, but it appeared to her that Celica was just as fascinated by her tales as Yang was by hers.

Time went on. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into a month…


Yang walked out into Celica's platform, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and smoothing her hair in an attempt to stave off the heat. The tunnels behind her were terribly stuffy, which sometimes had her feeling a bit sick on the way here, and the open air alleviated that only a bit. But it was worth it, she thought, with a smile on her face, as long as she got to see her friend.

The smile faded from her lips as she looked ahead and saw Celica curled up on the floor. That wasn't an unusual position for her to take, but something about the way she was gave Yang the most dreadful feeling. She paused at the entrance for a second, then all but ran towards the dragon.

She kneeled before Celica and touched the side of her face, just above the bend of her mouth. Celica shuddered, eyes flickering yet closed. Her breath came out in weak spurts, the intensity that had first scared Yang gone entirely.

"What happened, Celica?" Yang muttered, bowing her head near. "What did they do to you?"

They couldn't have forced her to go out to hunt Grimm. They'd already done so yesterday, and if they'd done it again today, Yang would have known it. There was no way to miss the noise and chaos from anywhere in the volcano.

Yang's stomach turned. She could only think of one explanation for this. Whatever torture the Warden had inflicted on Celica had been so bad, so debilitating, that she hadn't even been able to roar in pain. And it could only have been torture – what use was there in hurting Celica so bad that she couldn't even open her eyes?

A cold fury took over Yang, aimed more at herself than anyone else. Sure, the Warden was the lowest of scum, but what had she been doing for the past month? Surviving each day, pretending things were alright while she was stuck in hell, as were all those people down there, and Celica had never been able to fly freely across the skies.

No more.

Yang rubbed Celica's head and rose to her feet. The dragon's eyes opened for a moment, staring at her, before they closed again.


"And here she is again, to glorify us with her presence! And so early, too. Back from the bootlicking already, princess?"

Yang ignored Neon's insult, barreling past her and Flynt both as she skipped down the stairs. She paused at the bottom and leaned to the side, casting a look towards Qrow's cell, but it was empty. He wasn't in any of the other cells on this level, so Yang moved again, heading straight towards the next set of stairs.

"Hey, watch where you're going, will you?" Neon said, pacing behind her. "You could hurt someone, stomping around like a Goliath like that! Knock someone over the edge, and how would they end up then?"

She mimed hitting her head, then poked out her tongue and crossed her eyes. Beside her, Flynt snickered.

"I don't think she'd be bothered at all if that happened," he said. "Actually, she might even enjoy it. I wouldn't mention it again in front of her."

"Right, 'cause it's the family business," Neon said sagely. "Thanks, Flynt. I'll watch my words more carefully from now on."

"Would you two shut it?" Yang said, looking over her shoulder. "I don't have time for this today."

The pair shared a glance, smiling knowingly, but Yang looked away fast. Stopping at the next level down, she examined the cells there, but once again her uncle was nowhere to be seen. She moved on swiftly.

"Something's gotten into the princess today, that's for sure," Flynt said behind her. "What, did the Warden not let you take a bone off his plate today?"

"I bet she misses her hordes of servants," Neon said. "Hell, I would too, if I were in her situation. Lucky me, the only thing I have to miss is a slightly milder temperature."

"Maybe cranky is just her natural disposition."

Yang bit down a retort, focusing on her search for Qrow. Yet there was no sign of him anywhere she looked, which was just her luck – today of all days, when she needed him most, is when Qrow decided to up and vanish. He'd better be doing something worthwhile with his time…

Arriving back at her cell, Yang bit her lip. If she couldn't find Qrow today, what other options did she have? The simplest solution was to talk to him tomorrow during recreation, but she didn't like the thought of waiting. One more day without her taking action meant one more day for Celica to probably be tortured again. That, and the rest of the world hadn't taken a break while she was gone. Her family was out there, and the war was still going on.

"I give her one more week," Neon said. "One more week, and then she snaps. She'll break someone's face, for sure. Bet?"

"We've got nothing to bet with, so no," Flynt said. "If I were to bet, though, I'd say she will snap, but she's not gonna get violent. Instead she's gonna go up to the Warden and beg to send a letter to her mommy. They'll take her back home real quick then, with her tail tucked between her legs."

"Oooh. I changed my mind, that's a way more entertaining scenario," Neon said.

Yang turned around to face Neon and Flynt, her anger reaching a breaking point. Suddenly she realized where they were – the rock beneath them was treacherous, and the space between the cells and the edge that overlooked the levels below was so narrow there was barely any room to move. Neon had run laps around her in the courtyard, but here, she wouldn't be able to do that. Yang's firebending was still pitiful, but she could beat Neon and Flynt into submission before they reached the stairs – she had taken down stronger people in larger numbers before.

But she didn't make a move. Easing her hands down to her sides, she turned her eyes to the faraway sky and took a deep breath. Finally, she looked at Neon and Flynt again.

"You're right that I'm a princess, and all things considered, I'm probably pretty spoiled," she said firmly. "But you know what that means? It means that one day, I will be your Fire Lord. So you should probably reconsider your attitude towards me."

Neon flinched, taken aback by her tone. Flynt, on the other hand, didn't appear shaken at all, even taking a step forward to look her in the eyes.

"Are you threatening us?" he said.

"I'm not," Yang said. "What I'm saying is that, as privileged as you think I am, right now we're in the exact same situation. But I don't plan to be for much longer. And the sooner I get out of this place, the sooner I can find my mother and put an end to all the bad she's causing. The sooner I'll be able to make things better, for all of us. So, yeah, you can waste your time hurling insults at me all day and all night. Or you can do something productive and help me out."

Flynt went silent, looking her up and down as if meeting her for the first time. There was still suspicion in his eyes, but he appeared to take her words seriously. Neon was similarly stunned, and seemed to be annoyed with Yang – maybe because, despite what Neon expected of her, Yang hadn't succumbed to her ceaseless provoking.

Yang didn't say a word. If they decided to listen to her, she'd be glad to have their help. But she wasn't going to be disappointed if they didn't. Honestly, she wasn't too keen on working together with either of them after their month-long rivalry, but she supposed bridging gaps was something a good leader ought to have in her repertoire.

Before any of them could say anything, Yang felt a hand fall on her shoulder. She looked, and behind her stood Qrow, an eyebrow raised as he glanced from her to the pair of Neon and Flynt.

"We having some sort of trouble over here?" he said, nodding significantly towards the higher levels, where the Warden resided. "Because trouble isn't very well appreciated by some folks around these parts."

Yang cast a look at Neon and Flynt, and the former shrugged.

"No trouble, sir," Neon said.

"Unless the princess is aiming to make some," Flynt added, crossing his arms. "We were just chatting."

"Right, and hearing that soothes my nerves a bunch," Qrow grumbled, and shook Yang by the shoulder. "What were the lot of you talking about, then?"

Yang shared a look with Flynt, and to her surprise, saw the hint of a grin coming to his lips.

"Nothing much, uncle," Yang said. "Say, you mentioned something about escape plans the other day, didn't you?"

Qrow took his hand off her shoulder, his expression going from cautious to openly curious. "Yes, I may have. Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm getting out of this place. We're all getting out of this place." Yang paused. "Except the people who actually deserve to be here, of course." She shrugged. "How soon do you think you can get everyone in on the plan? Can we do it tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Qrow grabbed her by the top of the head and tilted it this way and that way, as if investigating if she'd hit it hard recently. "I can manage to round up all those fools by tomorrow, I guess. But I already explained to you, it's useless while the Warden has his stupid dragon."

"The dragon isn't stupid. And she's not the Warden's. She doesn't belong to anyone," Yang said, raising her chin. "Don't worry about that. All you have to do is get everyone on the ships, meanwhile, I'll take care of the dragon problem."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Flynt said. "I'm all for breaking out of this hole, but I'd still rather stay than get burned alive or devoured by Grimm."

"Samesies," Neon said. "Also, why are you calling the dragon a she? Are you friends with it or something?"

"I am, actually," Yang said, and was met with the collective stare of three people in varying states of doubt. "Look, you just have to trust me on this one."

No sooner the words had left her mouth did she realize how stupid she sounded. Sure, she just had a plan, and they just had to be willing to risk their lives on that alone. If she'd gained any credibility with Neon and Flynt, it seemed to be disappearing quickly now.

"If Yang says she has a plan, then I'm good with trying it," Qrow said, and Yang turned to him in surprise. "Sure, she might not be the smartest apple in the bunch, but she's gotten in so many scrapes and always come out on top, even I've got to tip my hat. That, and she's got guts."

"Uncle Qrow…" Yang smiled. "Thanks."

"Don't let it get to your head," Qrow said, and sensing that she was about to hug him, pushed her away with a palm to her forehead. "You go to your cell, rest up for whatever stunt you're gonna pull tomorrow. And you two-" He turned to Neon and Flynt. "I trust you can be subtler than you look. I'm recruiting you two to get the word out."

"I'm still not sure about that, but… Okay!" Neon put her hands on her hips. "I can be subtle. Subtler than your weirdo niece, for sure."

"I guess if you're gonna go on with this plan anyway, then…" Flynt said, and that was the only answer he gave.


The takeover began in the early hours of the morning, as the guards let out the first round of prisoners for recreation. Qrow, being in that group, gave the signal, and he along with the others easily overpowered their keepers, turned complacent by the perceived docility they'd been dealing with, and took their keys.

As planned, that first group of prisoners moved fast, each taking one level of the prison and opening the cells there. Soon more than half of the inmates were free, and it didn't take much longer for the guards to catch on, but by that point, as well-armed as they were, they had no hope of standing up to the prisoner's numbers.

Once the conflict was more or less settled, Qrow split everyone into two groups. One would take and ready the ships for departure. The other would raid the prison's storage and gather food to bring to the ships – there was enough there to last the maximum population for a whole year, it seemed, and just half of that would be enough for a trip anywhere.

"Situation's mostly under control," Qrow said, meeting up with Yang near the entrance. "The Warden's locked himself up in his office. Probably gonna send a message to Vacuo, but by the time it gets there, we'll be long gone." He pointed a finger at the sky. "The dragon?"

"I'm gonna see about that now," Yang said. She took a step away, and paused. "Are the ships ready?"

"Just about."

"You and the others should take off as soon as you can, then."

Qrow scowled. "Yang, you're not serious. What about you, you crazy-"

"I'll be fine. I told you, I have a plan," Yang said. "I'll see you in an hour. Be safe!"

She ran off before he could get another word out, leaving Qrow to stand by himself, wondering how it was possible for his family to be this much of a disaster.


"We good to go?" Qrow asked as he climbed aboard one of the ships, passing by Flynt.

"Yep," Flynt said. "Just give the word and we'll-"

"Wait just a minute!"

Neon marched out of the crowd of inmates on the board of the ship, dragging a man along by the ear. He yelped and slapped at her hands, but was unable to free himself.

"What's going on here?" Qrow asked.

"This guy-" Neon let go of the man and kicked him in the butt, shoving him towards the boarding ramp. "-is not one of the good guys. He was taken to the Dragon's Throat years ago because he beat up his grandma, I heard him telling the story one night!"

"That's not true! The Fire Lord set me up!" the man yelled.

"…And in this scenario, was it the Fire Lord that beat up your grandma?" Qrow asked, crossing his arms. "Because – and I do hate her guts – that doesn't sound very plausible to me."

"Well, no. She sent her goons to beat up my grandma!" The man paused. "Besides, it wasn't like she was defenseless. She could have fought back if it was such a pro-"

Neon kicked him again, and Flynt shoved him for good measure. The man tumbled to the floor and rolled down the ramp, coming to a staggered halt on the pier. Qrow rubbed the corners of his eyes and groaned.

"Please tell me you vetted the rest of the passengers better than him," he muttered.

"Yes, sir!" Neon said, straightening her shoulders and bringing her hand to her forehead in a salute. "No more grandma-hating folks to find in this ship or the others, sir!"

"I'll trust your word, then," Qrow said. "Bring up the ramps, and get the word out to set sail. We're getting out of here."

One upside of the Dragon's Throat having been so packed is that there was no shortage of people with maritime experience to pick from. Lucky, as Qrow had no idea how a ship worked. In a matter of minutes, they were drifting away from the volcano.

"What about your niece?" Neon said, hopping over to his side. "She's not coming?"

Qrow gazed at the Dragon's Throat and felt his throat constricting. For all his trust in Yang, he couldn't help but feel worried for her. "She'll join us soon enough."

"…In the afterlife?" Neon blinked. "You know she's crazy, right?"

"Oh, I know. Believe me, I do…"


Yang raced up the tunnels as fast as her feet would allow her. Time was of the essence. If she took too long, everyone would be doomed – maybe herself included.

"Celica!" she shouted as she crossed into the stone platform.

Celica shifted on her spot on the floor and looked at Yang. She appeared stronger than yesterday, but there was a weariness in her eyes, and her scales were so lackluster they resembled bronze more than they did gold.

"Celica," Yang said, sliding to her knees and touching the dragon's snout with her good hand. "Good news – we're breaking out. We locked up pretty much all those jerks, and everyone's leaving on the ships."

As Yang spoke, Celica went from vaguely interested to standing at full attention, her tail dragging across the floor as she lifted herself on all fours. She bent her head low to sniff at Yang's hair, as if to divine whether she was playing a prank on her, before she lifted it to look over the edge. Celica huffed curiously and looked at Yang again, eyes glimmering inquisitively.

"See? Sounds crazy, but we did," Yang said. "Now, there is one problem. The Grimm. If you're not there to protect the ships, everyone is gonna get killed. We don't have much time-"

In an instant, Celica's entire being seemed to change, and Yang stopped talking immediately. Celica's eyes fixed on her, looking into her very soul, and Yang could swear she felt the dragon's emotions washing over her like ocean waters – the anger, sadness and dismay, all wrapped in a unified blanket of betrayal.

Yang stepped back, her shoulders slumping. How foolish had she been. She thought she understood Celica so much better than anyone else could, but in the end she'd only been arrogant. Either she'd expected Celica to go along with her plan because she was just a creature, without the agency of a human like her – or she'd thought Celica so wise that she would understand immediately that Yang only wished the best for her, that it wasn't just about herself and the people escaping, it was about Celica's freedom too.

"I'm sorry," Yang said softly, and she was surprised she was able to find her voice at all. "This isn't like – like what the others made you do. I want you to be free too, Celica, and-"

Celica drew back and roared at Yang, causing her to fall to the floor, the skin of her face flush with heat. Yang's eyes welled up – in all the time since they'd met each other, Celica had never done that to her again.

"Celica…" Even the name didn't feel right to say anymore. It was a made-up thing, chosen because Yang fancied it, and yet she felt ashamed uttering it out loud.

Shaking, Yang rose to her feet and backed away. What now? She had no way to ensure the people on the ships would get away safely, and she had no way to leave the Dragon's Throat herself. She doubted any amount of begging would change Celica's mind.

She was doomed.

And just as she thought she couldn't feel any more hopeless, Celica stopped roaring, her eyes fixing on a spot behind Yang, and the cling of metal echoed across the platform.

"Now, beast! Go and-" The Warden stopped mid-sentence when he saw Yang standing there. "What are you doing here?"

Yang could only stare at him, frozen – until a dark glint caught her eye, and she saw that the Warden held in his right hand a black crystal. Anger and panic propelled her to action. "Don't you dare-"

But before she could try and cross the distance between them, the Warden banged the crystal against his lance. "Kill her now!"

Celica bellowed in agony, her back arching as the pain wracked her body. Her eyes peered at Yang, a claw rose from the ground, and for a moment Yang thought she would obey the order. The blow never came – but whether because Celica resisted, or the pain was too much for her to follow through, Yang didn't know.

"You bastard!" Yang shouted, dashing at the Warden. She wished now she had grabbed a weapon, but she'd been in a hurry to get to Celica and she hadn't thought she would need to fight anyone. Her fists were her only means of attack, then.

The Warden assumed a stance as she approached, holding his lance in a downward vertical in front of his body, a nigh impenetrable defense. Yang stopped for a half-second when she reached him, and started towards his right – only to dive in the opposite direction as he swung his weapon in anticipation, elbow held out to strike.

She landed a solid blow on his shoulder, almost catching his neck instead, and the Warden stumbled back from the impact. Still, his armor softened the blow, while Yang, clad in the prison uniform that had been provided to her, had her shoulder bared, and she wouldn't be surprised if she hurt more than him.

It didn't matter – he was unbalanced, as well as surprised by her maneuver, and Yang took full advantage of that, taking hold of his breastplate while she grabbed his lance with her Grimm claws. She pushed him away and yanked at the lance at the same time, and after a moment of resistance, she managed to pry it from him.

Yang drew back, spinning the lance around so that its pointy end faced him, and grinned smugly at him. Her satisfaction was cut short, however, as the Warden dropped the crystal on the floor – causing a whimper from Celica – and balled his fists, and miniature tendrils of fire snakes around his fingers.

"Oh, of course," Yang muttered bitterly. "How could I have forgotten."

He raised a wall of fire before himself, preventing any attack, before he launched it towards her at a blinding speed. Yang jumped aside, swinging the lance around her shoulders and at him like a bat, utilizing the momentum as she closed the distance – but with a swing of his hand, he released a fireball and struck the lance, sending the swing askew. Yang ended up hitting the floor with it and hobbling past him, leaving her back vulnerable.

"Enough of you!" The Warden raised his elbow to strike. Recognizing that there was only one way for her to get out of there, Yang dropped the lance altogether and dove forward, getting just out of reach.

As she spun around, Yang slid her foot across the floor in preparation for a kick – she saw the Warden already turned and with his lance already swinging – and that ethereal second between her plans being formed and defeated seemed to stretch on forever.

The blunt end of the lance slammed on the side of her skull. It launched her to the side, but in just a second, she'd already halted her momentum and now only stumbled lightly. The world was blurred, and as Yang bowed her head, she saw drops of red falling between her feet – before the red washed over her left eye in a thin veil.

"Wish I could get rid of you, but your mother wouldn't like that," she heard the Warden say, and then a blazing projectile hit her full-on.

Yang hit a wall and collapsed.


"So… about that plan of hers…" Neon said, biting her lip. "I'm guessing it didn't work out."

Qrow tried to ignore the remark, but that was difficult when it reflected exactly what he was thinking. They weren't too far from the Dragon's Throat yet, but it was getting smaller and smaller, and yet he had heard the roaring moments before. And then nothing.

He didn't want to imagine what that mean, but he couldn't stop himself from doing it.

"Well, we're screwed, then. Guess that's what we get for trusting that traitorous brat," Flynt said. "What do we do now? The Grimm are gonna show up any second and we have no way to – oh no what the hell was that-"

Qrow shook his head and looked towards where Flynt was pointing. At first he saw nothing and thought the boy was coming up with things in his fear, but then he noticed the darkness in the water – a shade just a tad darker than the surface, but darkening every second, and taking on more of a definite shape.

"That would be a Grimm, everyone. A huge one!" Qrow exclaimed to the other passengers. "Don't panic! That's the last thing we want to do!"

A moment later, everybody was shouting at each other, and Qrow realized what he'd just said was perhaps the worst way to try and keep people from panicking.

"Okay, uh… At least we don't have a dragon hunting us down," he said, more to himself than anyone else. It was tough to admit, even to himself, but he was out of his element here. "No dragon. Yup. Only a giant sea monster, and soon all his relatives. Cool, everything's fine…"

Neon, standing close by, looked at him and covered her face with her hands.

"Wait! Dragon!" Qrow shouted, and Neon jumped in fright. "The Grimm around here fear the dragon, and – and if they think it's attacking them – I want all firebenders in front of me, right now!"

Neon reacted quickly to his order, grabbing Flynt by the elbow to help her out, and in a minute, they had every firebender aboard the ship gathered next to the right end of it, where the Grimm would be emerging.

"On my count, I want you all to continuously firebend together at that thing," Qrow said.

"But it's… completely underwater," Flynt said. "I get that you're not a firebender, but surely you understand that-"

"Yeah, yeah, we all know the story, dumb non-bender yadda yadda-" Qrow clapped his hands. "On the count of three. One. Two. Three!"

It took a moment, but eventually all the firebenders did as he asked, releasing a continuous barrage of fire towards the shape in the water. Their individual attacks weren't impressive, but blended together, they made a fearsome sight. Not the same as a dragon's breath, perhaps, but close enough.

When they stopped firebending, the shape had stopped growing bigger, and was now spinning unto itself, as if biding its time. It hadn't gone away, but the important part was, it wasn't getting any closer.

"Anyone want to take a dig at the normal guy now?" Qrow said, and nobody met his eyes. Flynt coughed on his hand and shuffled behind Neon. "Let's give it a couple minutes, then do it again."

It wasn't a perfect solution, but perhaps they could get far enough away from these waters that they would then stand a chance. And with time, if they were fortunate…

Come on, firecracker. Don't let me down now.


Her back pressed against a wall, Yang brought her hand to her forehead, and winced as her fingertips grazed against the jagged length of a cut. It didn't seem so deep, but her head felt like it was about to explode, and the blood… She wiped her hand over her eye, and held it out before her, trembling, her skin tinged with red.

A distant ringing echoed in her ears, and she looked away from her fingers to the scene before her. The Warden had all but forgotten about her as he turned his attention to Celica. He was pacing around her, staying just out of her reach, while he shouted orders and banged his crystal repeatedly. Every hit would send Celica into another bout of agony, so debilitating it would be a wonder if she could still comprehend what the Warden was trying to tell her to do. But he didn't care - he only grew more insistent.

"Stop…" Yang stammered, and he wouldn't have heard her even without Celica's howling. "You're going to k-kill her…"

She looked to her Grimm hand, resting flat on the floor beside her, and for a second, she was struck by the sight. What is that thing? Yet she managed to gather herself and, grabbing hold of the wall with her other hand, pulled herself to her feet.

Yang swayed on her feet, looking on helplessly as Celica writhed on the floor. The Warden was leaving himself exposed, but what could Yang do about it? She could barely stand - if she tried to fight him, he would only beat her again, and she doubted he would be as merciful.

Yang bowed her head. In the corner of her eye, she saw a cascade of black tresses and the dark smoldering of blood-red eyes, as Raven Branwen came to stand beside her.

"Do you see now?" the phantom of her mother said. "This wouldn't be happening if you had stayed by my side. Yet you had to play the rebel."

Yang looked at her, and Raven turned to face her. Her voice was harsh, as was her expression, but there was a tenderness in her eyes that was both foreign and familiar. Perhaps it was a piece of Yang's mind that still held hope for her mother, but she thought she might have genuinely seen that look before.

"You're weak, darling. It was never necessary for me to tell you that," Raven said. "But there's no shame in it. You've got nothing to gain from being strong. Nothing except hurt, endless and unforgiving."

She smiled and laid a hand on Yang's shoulder.

"Your fight is over. It's time to accept that."

Yang closed her eyes.

Was she weak? Maybe she was. Maybe she'd let her mother convince her of that, and in time, she'd even convinced herself, deep down. If she were strong, would she have made the same choices that had gotten her to this point? All the compromises and sacrifices, the half-truths she'd told herself, and the fights she had backed down from or never at all considered.

Yes, maybe she was weak.

But she couldn't afford to be. Not when the lives of her uncle and her people were in danger. Not when her mother was leading her nation into ruin. Not when the fate of the whole world hung in the balance.

Yang opened her eyes, and they burned red like fire. Her mother was gone.

She spun on her feet to face the Warden's back, and thrust her good arm to the side, bending her fingers in a claw-like fashion. A familiar energy surged within her, racing down her arm, never petering out. Fire ignited on the palm of her hand, spinning unto itself and growing bigger by the second, its bright light escaping from between her fingers and shining across the platform.

The Warden, seemingly noticing the light and the change in temperature, stopped tormenting Celica and turned around. He shouted in alarm when he saw Yang and dropped his lance, but it was too late. Yang thrust her hand forward, launching the fire towards him in a swirling inferno of red and yellow flames.

The attack hit the Warden right in the chest, exploding against his breastplate and launching backward until he hit the edge of the platform. His whole body shook on impact, his arms and legs splaying out, and the crystal escaped from his grasp, flying in an arc across the platform, until it fell on the floor in a resounding clash.

Celica released the loudest roar Yang had heard from her yet. Her tail swooshed around like a whip, slamming against the edge of the platform and demolishing it instantly. The pieces of rock plummeted down the volcano, and with them went the Warden, letting out a scream that swiftly ended.

Yang winced and stood shocked for a moment, before she reminded herself of what the Warden was responsible for, and shook her head. Not a pretty fate, but she couldn't say she was sad for him.

Yang grabbed the crystal off the ground and ran over to Celica, who had pressed herself to the floor, her entire body shaking. She looked at Yang as she approached, and her pupils shrank when she saw Yang carried the tool that had caused her so much pain.

"It's okay," Yang said, stopping at a safe distance. Celica had always been too scared to fight back against her torturers, but she had never been pushed this far either. "I'm not going to hurt you. Look."

Slowly, Yang lowered herself to her knees, and placed the crystal on the floor as gently as she could. Celica observed her, huffing in short bursts.

"See? It can't hurt you anymore. No one's ever gonna hurt you again," Yang said.

Celica set her eyes on the crystal, as if expecting it to spring to life and for the pain to start anew. After a minute, her breathing started to soften, and she looked at Yang unsurely.

"You're free now," Yang said. "You can leave this place forever, and never come back."

Celica looked up at the sky and shook her head, drawing her wings close around her body. She looked pitifully small for a dragon, and Yang felt her heart swell with compassion.

Carefully, Yang stepped towards Celica, and when she was sure the advance was welcomed, she spread her arms and wrapped them around the dragon's head in the closest gesture to a hug she could muster.

"The pain doesn't matter," she whispered. "It's all in your head."

Celica whimpered, and Yang realized that no amount of hushed consolations would ever help her. Celica didn't need pity or false promises that everything was going to be okay. She needed to move forward, and she wasn't going to do that on her own.

Yang let go of Celica and stepped back, holding eye contact as she lay her Grimm arm on the side of the dragon's head.

"When I was a little kid, my dad started calling me dragonling. He never stopped using that nickname, and I used to complain about it," she said. "But I'll tell you a secret – there was a part of me that loved it every time. Not only are dragons the coolest creatures in the world, they're also the strongest. So if he says that I'm a dragon – even just a dragonling – then I know no force exists that can ever stop me."

Yang raised her chin, regarding Celica coolly.

"There are people out there who are counting on me, and I need to be strong for them. But I can't save them without your help. Celica, I need you to be strong for me," Yang said. "I need you to be strong like me."

Yang withdrew her arm and waited.

After a minute of silence, Celica stood up. She looked down at Yang, blue eyes shimmering with fear, but with a spark of determination behind them. She lowered her head close to the ground and nodded at Yang, turning slightly to show her neck.

"Right… You know, this was part of the plan all along, but," Yang said, frowning. "I'm only now noticing how crazy this is." She paused. "Oh well, first time for everything!"

She got close and examined Celica's neck, trying to figure out how exactly to get up there. After a full minute of her staring hopelessly, Celica turned her head and bit the back of Yang's shirt, lifting her off the ground and depositing her unceremoniously on her neck. Yang grabbed onto the scales under her the best she could, and nodded.

Celica spread her wings.


"…Three!"

Qrow backed away from the heat as the firebenders launched another barrage at the underwater Grimm. Looking across at the other ships, he saw the people there doing the same, focusing on other monsters that were beyond his vision.

When the firebenders stopped, Qrow quickly returned to the edge and leaned over to look at the water. His stomach turned when he saw the shape growing larger – the Grimm had caught on to what was happening and was approaching the surface very, very quickly.

"Well," he said, taking a step back. "This sucks."

He looked around, wondering if anyone had snatched some alcohol before climbing aboard. While the deed was done and the Grimm would surely eat him up, he didn't intend to go down in a panic, and what better way to soothe his nerves than with a good drink down his gullet?

Besides, he'd been in prison for months. It was about time he got to enjoy himself again.

Just as Qrow was about to grab someone and ask, a distant roar reached the ship. He looked around, confused, until he turned his eyes to the sky and saw a shape flying fast towards them, coming from the Dragon's Throat.

"Oh, cool," he said. "So we are going to get burned alive."

He really wished they'd let him keep his flask.

Screams rose from all the ships as the dragon approached, its shining figure becoming more definite the closer it got. It raised its neck and opened its mouth wide, and a light different from the sun's illuminated the vessels.

But when the dragon let loose its fire, it was not at any of the ships, but at the space between Qrow's and the closest other. Flames ignited on the ocean surface, and a black mass emerged amidst the chaos, the abominable Grimm finally making its appearance – only for the dragon to come swooping down and tear it apart with a decisive swipe of a claw. A cloud of dark smoke exploded between the ships, and lifted into the atmosphere over the course of a minute.

The dragon raced far past the ships, its tail dragging on the surface and splitting massive waves where it passed, before it turned wide and came back around. It opened its mouth, and then there was more fire and smoke. Any Grimm that tried to surface got summarily vanquished, and Qrow saw them retreat to the depths below, their shapes disappearing in the blue.

With the Grimm gone, the dragon ascended past the ships' masts. Hushed conversations rose around Qrow as everyone decided that, now that the dragon's primary preys were gone, it would soon be their turn to be destroyed.

But the dragon never attacked. Its intentions were difficult to discern, but it seemed to have its whole attention on the waters still, as if waiting for the Grimm to show up again. After minutes of tense waiting, the dragon roared and spread its wings, and took off towards the skies, the clouds obscuring it from view.

It sounded… happy.

"She did it," Flynt said. "The princess actually did it."

"We're saved!" Neon shouted, and celebration broke out on the ship, echoed almost instantly by the others.

Qrow didn't join in, his face going dark as he turned to look at the shrinking Dragon's Throat in the distance. He supposed he should be proud of Yang, but it was hard to feel anything but grief. What was he going to tell Taiyang?

A noise like thunder came from above, and everyone stopped celebrating at once. The dragon reappeared, flapping its wings to descend from the clouds in a steady vertical fashion. It came to a stop just beside Qrow's ship, facing it from the right, and extended its head past the edge and over the startled ex-inmates.

"Hyuu…" came the semblance of a voice. "Yah!"

Suddenly, Yang dropped from the dragon's neck, bending her knees awkwardly as she landed on the deck. Standing upright, she patted down her legs, then smiled up at the dragon.

"Thanks, Celica!" she said. "I'll be okay, if you wanna go fly around. Have fun!"

The dragon bumped her with its snout, then flew off, spinning and twirling, but never getting too far from the ships.

Qrow stepped towards Yang, pushing people aside as he tried to get a clear view of her. She was standing amidst the crowd, a smile on her lips that was the epitome of smugness. There was a slash above her left eye, and that side of her face was caked with blood, but she didn't seem to care.

"That's right. I'm here, and I saved the day. No need for any of you to thank me, though," she said. "Except you two." She pointed at Neon and Flynt.

"Huh?!" Neon exclaimed. "I mean, are you really gonna make us thank you like this? What kinda leader-" She stopped talking suddenly, and shrugged. "You know, yeah, that was pretty awesome. Sorry for being a jerk to you all this time."

Yang nodded. "Apology accepted." She turned to Flynt and crossed her arms.

"…Thanks. And sorry, I guess," Flynt said stiffly, before he added with a smirk, "That was pretty awesome, what with the dragon and all."

"Damn right it was!" Yang pumped her fist. "And just to be clear, I don't expect thanks for me, but I certainly expect all of you to thank Celica! She did most of the work, so if anyone's taking the credit-"

"Yang, you're bleeding," Qrow said.

Yang opened her mouth, then closed it. She touched her forehead and stared at her for a moment. "Oh. Oops." She frowned. "But how bad could it really-"


"And that's when you passed out," Qrow said.

Yang slowly drew her blanket closer to her nose, hoping that if she covered her entire body with it, she might somehow fade from this shameful existence, if only for a moment. Unfortunately, there seemed to no mercy for her.

Qrow got up from his chair and went over to the desk to diminish her lamp's flame. Her deeds, and partly her status, had earned her sole ownership of the captain's cabin. She wasn't the captain, of course, but she was finding it hard to feel any guilt about it.

"I didn't make a very good impression, did I?" she said.

"You made the best kind of impression," Qrow said. "Being impressive is good and all, but sometimes it's better to be a bit of a fool. Makes you relatable - people will trust you more that way. So I'd say you actually did great, even if it wasn't intentional."

"That… doesn't make me feel much better, but thanks?" Yang said. "I guess you've got experience about these things."

"Plenty."

Qrow sat down again, and they shared in the silence for a while. The ship rocked gently with the waves, and every so often Yang caught the noise of a splash as Celica swam besides the fleet, easily keeping up without exerting much energy.

If Yang had had any time to consider such distant concepts before executing the plans, she would have been scared that Celica would leave as soon as the Grimm were no longer a problem. She was very happy when she was told, once she woke up, that Celica hadn't left. Apparently, she had been very concerned about Yang, and had stayed close to her ship the whole time.

Yang supposed it only made sense that Celica would stick close to her, what with her being the only being Celica was familiar with in a strange new world, but it was more than that. They had formed a bond the first time they'd met, and it had only grown stronger with the events that had transpired since.

Yang couldn't wait to fly on Celica's back again. It had been a terrifying experience, but it had also been exhilarating, more than anything she'd ever done in her life. But that would have to wait a few days until she was fully recovered.

"For what it's worth, I do think you were rather impressive today," Qrow said, and if his voice wasn't indication enough of how serious he was, his face did the trick. "It was scary for a while, but you befriended a damn dragon, Yang. Who else can say they've done that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Yang said, grinning. "Probably no one." She winked. "Thanks, uncle."

"You remember those stupid fairy tales where the ancient people made deals with dragons and all that nonsense?" Qrow asked, and Yang nodded. "I heard from a couple people over the years that those aren't just fairy tales. It might actually have been a thing long ago, and the really interesting bit is – those people, they weren't just nobodies. They might have been the first Fire Lords."

He hung back and shrugged his shoulders.

"Course, it's all hearsay," Qrow said. "But after today, I think I buy into the theory."

"That's… interesting, yep," Yang said. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves now…"

Maybe it was silly of her to feel nervous about this. She'd always known she would be Fire Lord someday – unless something went really wrong – but it had never given her much pause. Recently, however, that inevitability was becoming all too real to her.

Fire Lord Yang Xiao Long. What a strange thought. Maybe the strangest part was that it didn't feel so wrong…

"You sure about our destination?" Qrow asked, maybe sensing that she was uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going.

"Yep. Vacuo it is," Yang said. "If my mother is still there, I'm gonna kick her butt off of her throne."

"I'll merrily assist," Qrow said. "But for now, I think we both ought to get some shut-eye. It's been a long existence."

He got up and walked to the door.

"Just do me a favor," Qrow said. "When you tell your father about all this… Maybe you could tell him I was with you the whole time. Like a responsible adult."

"Hmm… I'll consider your plight. But I'll expect some form of repayment," Yang said, with her haughtiest tone of voice.

"Yes, milord." Qrow gave her a flourish and left.

Alone in the cabin, Yang settled into her bed. She held her left hand in front of her eyes and flicked her index finger against her thumb, producing a flame. It was small, and tremulant, and unsure. But it was there, and it was hers.

She fell asleep without anything bothering her.


When the plot twist is that Yang doesn't get screwed over in the last three paragraphs of the chapter.

This chapter was an ordeal to write. It ended up being the second longest in this story, and honestly I'm still not too sure about the pacing. But I figured it's better to just get it out than tweak on it endlessly, so, here it is. Hope it was good!

And next chapter is probably be just as long... Oh no...

-Zeroan