A/N:

Hello friends and welcome back to RWBY: The Selection! :)

I've got two short chapters for y'all tonight, one that is much-anticipated (though may leave you with more questions than it answers) and one that is much fun!

Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, or followed last chapter! It was so wild to see so many views and visitors from just the latest chapter, so thank you all for that! :)

Special shoutouts to Six02 and Ravell Aqim for their reviews! Once again, please review with any thoughts, comments, questions, concerns, or favorite RWBY memories! I just had my best friend over earlier tonight and we binge-watched RWBY volume 1 (her for the very first time!). Now she can't stop fangirling over Sun. I've created a monster. It's great XD

Without further ado, enjoy!

Chapter 65: Salem

As Queen of all of Remnant, there were very few instances in which Salem allowed herself to feel vulnerable. She spent most of her days making cut-throat executive decisions, pretending to care for the wellbeing of her people, and doing whatever it took to find the four relics that could summon the gods that had tortured her for centuries.

Most of the time, Salem had a face of stone. She focused on the relics, on the future, and on her goals. She tried not to let herself become overwhelmed with emotion, with joy or with sadness, because she knew that it, like everything, would be taken away from by in time. There were times, however, when she collapsed under the strength of the walls she had As she glided through the maze, following a path that she had walked down so many times it had become second nature, she allowed her mind to wander to the past.

It had been over a thousand years ago when she had first fallen in love with Ozma. He had swept her off her feet, saving her from her prison and promising a lifetime of adventure and romance. Then, he had been taken from her. One, simple sickness had ripped him away, and, in doing so, had ruined her life. She had gone to the gods for answers, but they only gave her pity and punishment. They made her immortal. They destroyed life on this planet. Then, when she thought there was no greater punishment they could inflict on her, they left.

For hundreds of years, she walked Remnant alone. Even when humanity returned, only a fraction as powerful as they once were, Salem kept her distance. She didn't want to grow close to anyone, lest they inevitably be ripped from her, just as Ozma had been. Then, one night, he was back. Ozma had returned, and Salem rejoiced with the opportunity to be with her love again.

They started a kingdom, small at first, conquering Vale. Ozma would die, but each time he did, he would reincarnate. Salem would then fake her own death and let the kingdom go without a ruler for a few weeks to a few years, depending on the body Ozma reincarnated into. Then, once she found Ozma, they would take back the throne, claiming glory, and prospering once again. For centuries, this had been the case, and for centuries, Salem had been happy, lacking only in her desire for revenge against the gods.

Then, a few years ago, in this lifetime, Ozma betrayed her. She found him in the forests of Mistral, far outside their kingdom's reaches at that time, handing a lamp to a lion-tailed man. When Ozma left, Salem killed the man, and took the lamp. She read the small inscription on the handle: Jinn, and, when the blue genie appeared, asked the question that both ruined her life and saved it (or, rather, gave her a way to end it).

"What is Ozma hiding from me?" Salem asked, and the answer changed her forever. There were four relics scattered across the continents, with powers of creation, destruction, choice, and knowledge. When Ozma had been sent to Remnant, the gods had given him a mission: if these relics were brought together, the gods would return to judge humanity. If humanity could set aside their differences, and live in harmony, the gods would live among them, and their world would become whole again. If humanity demanded blessings while still fighting amongst themselves, however, they would be judged irredeemable, and their world would be wiped from existence.

"But this is perfect," Salem had thought. "If the gods come, I can finally end my suffering. I can finally take my revenge."

When she had brought this news to Ozma, however, he had disagreed. He took the lamp back to Mistral, against her wishes. He only believed they should bring the relics together only when humanity was harmonious, and would be judged as redeemable, and again become whole. Salem believed they should bring them together now, with humanity fighting amongst themselves, so that they would be damned, and that her plan could come to fruition. Their argument continued to escalate, until Salem realized that the man who had once stood beside her now only stood in her way. She had no other choice. She killed him.

With Ozma gone, she had declared war on Mistral, to obtain the relic of knowledge, then on Atlas, for the relic of creation, and then on Vacuo, for the relic of destruction. Upon learning that each relic was held safe in a vault that could only be opened by maidens of Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall, she scoured each continent for the maidens. Some, like the Spring Maiden, she had been able to use to obtain the relic without resorting to murder. Others, like the Fall Maiden, she had not. The Winter Maiden and Summer Maiden were both mysteries to her, although with Tyrian's claim that the Winter Maiden was a Selection contestant and her forces nearing victory in Vacuo, it was only a matter of time before she had the relic of creation and the relic of destruction to add to her collection.

It was that collection that brought Salem down to the vault now, where she sought the comfort of seeing her progress and ensuring that her secret was safe. She rounded a corner of her intricate maze, still lost in the past, when she stepped on something crumbly and squishy, that made a squelching sound as she pressed on it. Salem's eyebrows creased as she picked up her shoe. Using magic to create a small flame for light, she saw what it was that she had stepped on: from toe to heel, her shoe was covered in the remains of a chocolate chip cookie.

The flame that Salem held in her palm grew to the size of a roaring fire, lighting the entire hallway as her fury surged. Someone had been in her vault. Someone that liked dessert.