Hello there, I'm The Royal Protector and you're reading the 1k special I've come up with while writing chapter 15. Since you guys don't know the result of the poll, you can either consider this as a glimpse into the future or as part of the spin-off.
I'm also trying out not writing in past tense with this like I'm used to with other fics, just to get a feel of how it's like.
Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY, if I did, I wouldn't be writing this.
White Prelude
She is thirteen years old the first time she sees him. It is during the night and it only occurs because she startles awake from a nightmare, which looking back she wouldn't be surprised if it was his doing in the first place. At first, she sees nothing in her dark and spacious room, more of a suite if she is honest, but it only takes her mind a moment to recognize a silhouette sitting on her window sill on the far side of the room. She blearily turns on her night lamp, lighting up a small portion of the room while leaving the rest in dimness, it is still enough to confirm that someone was indeed there.
"Who's there? Identify yourself!" She rapidly blinks away the sleepiness in her eyes and jolts upwards in her queen-sized bed. The figure remains still for a few moments before they push off against the sill and take a few silent steps forward. She doesn't hesitate and reaches for her weapon's case besides her bed. A couple clicks and she's on her feet with her blade in hand, pointed in the direction of the intruder.
He doesn't look deterred and only stops when he reaches the midway point of her room. With the light strong enough, she can finally make out his features; however, few there were anyway as his form is obscured by a light silver colored hooded cloak, brown leather boots and a strange mask that leaves her puzzled as to why anyone would willingly wear something like it. The white, wooden mask only has a single eye hole, for the right eye, with a strange, black spiral pattern spreading around it to cover the entirety of the mask. The only defining feature she can make out is the single silver colored eye that reflects her lamp's light back at her.
She tightens her grip around her weapon and prepares to call for security, however the intruder acts first before she can do so.
"I no longer use my given name, since it's of no use for me anymore." His voice is surprisingly young, comparing their relatively similar heights she thinks they are of a similar age as well. "You may call me whatever you wish." His body doesn't move, but his bland tone gives her the impression that he is bored. She frowns at the non-committal response and questions him further.
"You're intruding on Schnee property, what are you doing here?" By now she is wide awake and ready for a confrontation that might occur. The figure tilts their head to the side and their eye crinkles in what she assumes to be amusement.
"Oh me? I'm only looking for… associates to complete a plan of mine."
"Father's office is on the other side of the mansion, not that he welcomes guests this late into the night," she replies distastefully, she wants nothing to do with her father's shady business partners.
"I'm not here to see him at the moment, I'm interested in someone else," he says nonchalantly and turns to look at the group of photos and family portraits lining her wall. Her eyes narrow even further as protective instincts flare up.
"Who?" She asks with a dangerous edge to her voice, if it's her sister he's after…
"Winter Schnee, the prodigal heiress of the Schnee family. Considered by many as a genius of any field she takes an interest in, a person with so much potential that people think she is the second coming of Nicholas Schnee. A fighter without match in her entire age group, there are rumors that they are even planning to move her ahead several years, straight into Atlas Academy. All of this at the young age of thirteen. I'm here, because you are an interesting individual, Winter." He turns back to regard her with that single, cold silver eye. "Your grandfather also mentioned how he had so high hopes for you," he added with a slight shake of his head, her expression falters immediately and she can feel her hold on her saber slacken ever so slightly.
"You… knew my grandfather?" She asks hesitantly, thoughts of calling security dismissed over a chance of learning more about her late grandfather. It has been 3 years since his funeral, but it feels much more to her. Maybe it's because he had been the only positive influence on their family name, a name she desperately tries to find good in.
"He was a good friend of mine…" He confirms with what she assumes to be a melancholic nod. Without warning, he begins to close the distance with slow, deliberate steps. It snaps her out of her thoughts and makes her readjust her grip on her weapon, ready to strike him down at any sign of aggression. The distance between them shrinks and she sees his arm move under the cloak, presumably reaching for his own weapon-
"Is that…?" She is breathless for a moment, instead of a concealed weapon, she is presented with a leather-bound book that she recognizes instantly.
"Your grandfather's journal. He gave it to me a long time ago, now I want you to have it." It's in the outstretched, black gloved hand of the mysterious figure, who came to a halt barely past the tip of her sword. She's in shock for a minute, it looks genuine to her and she knows what knowledge is inside it. However, there is something else in it that holds much more value to her than simple knowledge.
A past where the Schnee name was respected, not reviled.
She swallows hard and reaches for the offered book with her free hand, "I… thank you."
He however doesn't let go of it and looks her straight in the eye. Looking at it from this close gives her a feeling of apprehension. She normally doesn't shy away from snow nor ice, but that cold look makes her uneasy. "Do not thank me, this is merely an investment on my part to see how far your potential really goes. An investment that I fully intend to have you repay."
She is torn by indecision. Her instincts are telling her that this is wrong, that he is dangerous and that she should turn away before it's too late. Meanwhile her heart and curiosity beg her to take the chance to learn more.
In the end, curiosity and desire win out.
"…How can I trust you?" Her eyes soften after a while and she resigns herself to her choice.
"Oh Winter, I have nothing but your best interest at heart," he responds and lets go of the book, she can't see it, but she thinks he's smiling under that mask.
She doesn't think it's a good thing.
He's like a ghost.
She sees him around the mansion from time to time, sitting on sills or sofas, doing nothing in particular, just observing the everyday life of the people living and working there.
She doesn't trust him, even if he gave her that book, she can't help but feel anxious in his presence. She calls security on him multiple times, but no one ever does seem to catch a glimpse of him, it's as if in one moment he's there, but not the next.
Her father refuses to install cameras around the house, probably afraid of someone hacking into them and finding hard evidence on his shady dealings. No other methods of detection work on him for some reason, it's slowly driving her mad and one of her combat tutors points it out during one of her lessons.
"Lady Winter, your attention is waning," her aging teacher reminds her when he finds her focus slipping away multiple times during their spar to a particular spot behind him.
"I- There's just a person sitting on the bench behind you, sir. It's distracting," She fumbles with her words. Indeed, she still sees him sitting there, but when her teacher turns to look he disappears without a trace. It doesn't surprise her anymore, but she hoped a trained Hunter would have noticed him.
"I swear there was someone there…" She lets out a disheartened sigh, she wouldn't be surprised if the whole mansion thought she was seeing things. Just to add salt to the wound he immediately reappears when her teacher turns back to her.
"Young Lady, I assure you, the only person who'd be able to escape my notice is-… was Summer Rose," he awkwardly corrects himself and his face twists with sorrow. The figure turns to look at her teacher and just stares at him.
"Perhaps it's best we ended practice early today, take some time to rest," he shakes his head and excuses himself. The figure watches him until he leaves the courtyard, once it's just the two of them he stands up and brings his left hand above his head. He slowly lowers it in front of himself, his body disappearing after it as if someone has just removed it from existence, after a few moments, even that arm disappears into thin air.
After the initial shock, she realizes the point of that display and she never calls for security again.
It's on Weiss' tenth birthday when the manor's atmosphere irrevocably changes for the worse. A group called the White Fang sabotages several of the company's establishments, the damage to their reputation and finances brings the worst out of their father. It comes to a head when their parents get into an argument that gradually escalates until their father snaps and admits that their marriage is only based on interest in the family name, nothing else.
Her mother breaks down and storms away, her father returns to his study without a glance at them. Weiss and Whitley are crying, she doesn't know what to do.
She sees him sitting on the chandeliers, observing the scene. She looks at him imploringly, he sees it and tilts his head to the side curiously. Then he stands up and hops through the ceiling to follow her mother.
She still doesn't know if she can trust him to help her, but she's desperate enough to try.
She's fifteen when she starts to truly question the benevolence of her ghost.
Warehouses, mines and transports go dark. Entire workforces go missing alongside machinery and Dust. At first they think the employees are defecting and stealing company property, but when the number of people going missing reaches the hundreds, the kingdoms gets involved and sends a team of Specialists to investigate.
They disappear without a trace alongside an entire shipment of Dust, the losses make her father furious in way she never experienced before. Winter and her siblings rarely approach him anymore for fear of being the one who sets him off.
She makes that mistake once when she tries to calm him down, the mark of his hand on her face stings for hours.
No one knows who's behind these attacks, not even the White Fang claims responsibility since the Faunus workforce goes missing too.
The situation with their mother isn't better, even if she doesn't raise her hand against them. Instead she locks herself away into a study and drains their cellar of wine.
"Mother, my final combat exam in Alsius is coming up soon and I was hoping you would be able to attend," Winter asks when she manages to find her at the beginning of one of her… sessions.
"Of course, dear… my timetable is a bit crowded, but I'll be sure to find some time…" Winter hears her answer absentmindedly, clearly distracted by the variety of refreshments offered by one of their servants. She sighs internally, her asking is simply a formality by this point, she knows her mother wouldn't attend, she never has time for them after that day.
She knows that, but it still hurts.
"Oh, is that Mistralian bull's blood? I've thought we've run out some time ago!" Her mother exclaims when she finds a particular bottle sitting on a table beside them, her favorite, she recalls wearily. "Klein must've ordered some more, wonderful!" She cheerfully walks over to it while motioning to the servant for a corkscrew.
Winter doesn't bother to tell her that Klein has been on vacation since last week or the fact that the bottle wasn't there when they entered the room.
She also does her best to ignore the figure who watches the scene just outside the window.
She is sixteen and a student of Atlas Academy.
The environment is harsh and demanding, the Atlesian standard of always striving for perfection while maintaining high levels of professionalism leaves her emotionally drained, but she doesn't complain because she is a Schnee and a Schnee never backs away from hardships. Living in the Academy is a welcome change in spite of this. Distance from the manor meant distance from her father and his meddling. Her only true regret is leaving her sister behind.
Her peers avoid her for one reason or the other, most loathe her family name or are jealous of her accomplishments, some hate her for being born in the city proper instead of Mantle.
He is the only constant in her life. When she's alone in training rooms he reveals himself and offers his help. She accepts only because the loneliness and isolation start to affect her.
He brings her Grimm to kill, some she only recognizes from history books, some she doesn't recognize at all. Her ever growing collection of summons combined with her grandfather's notes evolves her Semblance faster than she thought possible.
Her combat ability improves by leaps and bounds under the guidance of experienced Hunters and she is soaring through the Academy's leaderboards. Soon she takes the top spot and is placed alongside other fourth-years, set to graduate the next year.
It feels like the sky is the limit for her.
She returns to the manor during the winter break. The atmosphere is terse, most servants keep away from her and other members of the family. Her mother is nowhere to be seen and she doesn't bother to seek out her father, he would find her soon enough anyways. She tries to seek out her siblings but Klein tells her that neither are available at the moment.
She decides to pass the time by training in the courtyard. He's there waiting for her, as always, and offers to help. This time she pauses for a moment and asks if they could spar instead. The look he gives her in response reminds her of an adult indulgently regarding a playful child.
"As entertaining as that would be, I'd rather enjoy myself without interruptions." She blinks and he's gone. She stands there for a few moments, befuddled, until she hears someone running towards her. She turns and sees Weiss hurrying in her direction. Her sister comes to a halt before her and gives her the brightest smile she's seen in ages.
"Winter! You're back!" She moves to hug her but stops a few steps away and settles for a curtsy instead. Winter smiles back at her and loosely wraps her arms around her sibling.
"I'm happy to see you too Weiss, but I was told you were busy, what changed?" Winter lets go of her and looks at her questioningly. Her sister blushes and averts her eyes.
"N-nothing, I still have singing practice in a few minutes, but I was wondering if you'd be able to join me for lunch afterwards."
"Of course, I still have to finish my own training, but I'll be waiting for you," she responds with a small smile. Weiss' smile returns full force and looks ready to jump in place from excitement.
"That's great! I have so much to tell you! I'm getting my own weapon made and I even found grandfather's old scarf that got lost years ago-" "Weiss, I think it's time for you to leave. At this rate you'll be late for practice," Winter cuts her off with none of the warmth that was in her voice before. Her sister blinks at the interruption, but nods affirmatively.
"Right! I'll see you later!" At seeing Winter nodding back, Weiss turns and leaves the courtyard. Winter watches her with steely eyes until she is left alone in the chilly weather. She sighs and looks down at the ground resignedly, something she's been doing more and more lately.
"I don't know how you intend for me to pay you back, or what you're planning with my father and mother, but please, leave my sister out of this," she requests quietly. Her family has fallen apart, she can't stand her father, can't respect her mother and she rarely sees Whitley anymore. Only her relationship with Weiss remains unchanged and she would give up anything to keep her safe.
"Very well," he answers from beside her. She is in shock for a moment, not at his sudden appearance, but at his acceptance without any questions or denials of trying to approach Weiss.
"Y-you agree?" She voices her disbelief. He hums in thought and his eye gains a softness she has never seen before or will see again from him.
"…You are far from perfect, Winter. You have more faults than you could bear to hear." The words sting her pride a bit, but she knows better than to interrupt him. "But your love for your sibling is something that I can admire about you." She regards him with wide eyes, his words sounded more personal and genuine, unlike other times when he criticized her.
"Thank you," she nods slowly. He hums in response and his eye regains its familiar sharpness.
"I only have your best interest at heart."
She's seventeen when it all comes to a head.
Comparing her grandfather's journal and her family's reputation as it is now makes her disillusioned with its future. Coupled with the freedom she experiences in Atlas Academy, her desire of making a name for herself only strengthens. However, to do that she would have to cast off the burden her father placed upon her shoulders.
She decides to do so after her graduation exam. Afterwards she can join the military as a Specialist and leave everything behind.
And so she waits for her opportunity. With his help she grows stronger, stronger than all of her peers and some of her teachers. She's starting to get the attention of a lot of people, either out of admiration or disdain she doesn't know, but they start to refer to her as the second youngest person to ever graduate the Hunter program, the first being a child prodigy who disappeared without a trace several years ago.
It might just be her developing paranoia, but this person's description reminds her too much of her ghost.
The Hunter exam is the most demanding challenge she faces yet, especially thanks to the Atlesian and Schnee expectations of flawlessness. It is thanks to his help over the years that she passes regardless and gets her license, marking her as an adult by Kingdom law. She packs her belongings and prepares to head home, most likely for the last time for a long, long time.
She returns to the manor and tells her father about her wish to join the military as a Specialist. He is furious and calls her things she wouldn't like to remember, but he doesn't raise his hand against her this time. He knows better than to attempt something like that against a licensed Huntress.
It still doesn't prevent him from disowning her on the spot. She quietly accepts it, having given up the hope of finding good in the name a long time ago anyways. On her way out she is intercepted by her sister who cries for her and begs her for to stay and to talk things out with their father. Her cries stop when she tells her that she had anticipated this and is fine with never stepping foot in this house again. Weiss looks at her with a broken expression before she storms away without saying a word.
No one else stops her on the way out.
Becoming a Specialist requires an exam not unlike the ones Hunters have to take to get their license, however while Hunters must fight Grimm to show their hunting prowess, Specialists spar against someone to showcase their skills in personal combat. Her opponent is a man named Clover Ebi, an older Specialist that was chosen by her former Headmaster and future superior to evaluate her abilities.
News of her upcoming match gain the interest of many in the military and draw a crowd of spectators. On one of the loges is General Ironwood, the man she hopes to impress the most. The man had noticed her talents in the Academy and has expressed hopes of seeing her joining the Specialists under his command. Winter and her opponent make their way to the arena in the middle while conversations quiet down around the room. The lights dim until only the stage is illuminated, suddenly she feels the attention of everyone in the room shift to her. A subtle bout of nervousness washes over her, not because of stage fright, no, she had outgrown such a thing long ago, if she even had anything of the sort. The nervousness came from the knowledge that her future in the military depends on how well she performs in the coming minutes.
"You can take it easy," the man calls out to her, snapping her out of her thoughts. "This fight is merely a formality if what I've heard about you is right," he gives her a friendly smile and unholsters his weapon… A fishing rod? A peculiar choice, but she has seen stranger concepts turned into effective weapons.
"A formality that I still have to pass," Winter responds and unholsters her own saber in preparation.
"True, then I wish you good luck," Clover nods in her direction encouragingly and they wait for the countdown to finish. The counter eventually reaches zero and the ringing of a bell signals the beginning of their match.
A white glyph appears beneath her feet and Winter blurs from her spot, only to reappear before Clover, blade poised to thrust at his throat. The strike is blocked by her opponent's weapon and is redirected to the side, leaving her open for Clover to twist himself into her guard. He shortens the length of his weapon and uses the cable to tie one of her hands behind her back in an awkward position before she could even realize what is happening. She retaliates by raising her legs and kicking herself away from the man in hopes of gaining some distance.
She lands on her feet and summons a small Beowolf to cut the cables. Once her hand is free from bindings she activates the hidden mechanism in her sword. A slightly smaller parrying dagger emerges from the sword's hilt and she rushes back in, now with two weapons in her hands.
They trade blows for minutes; fast strikes are blocked by last second parries or reflex fueled dodges ingrained by years of combat. Clover hooks her leg with his weapon and sends her falling to the ground with a simple pull. A white glyph appears before her form, blocking a possible blow and allows her to recover her footing. She refuses to give up the initiative and goes on the offensive once more with a flurry of quick jabs and slashes.
Winter quickly realizes that the two of them are at a stalemate. The Specialist has years of real life combat experience under his belt, while she has a more varied arsenal and is more gifted in one-on-one duels such as this. A quick glance to their Aura meters between blows confirms this; both of them are well in the yellow. Her acceptance into the Specialist forces is now all but guaranteed according to the rules and requirements, she could forfeit now and it could be over…
However, Winter finds herself not wanting to. If she were to not only hold her own in this duel, but actually win it, they could decide to fast forward her directly into the Ace-Ops or some other team of elite Specialists under the general's command. It could provide a significant boost to her reputation and help her move away from her father's shadow.
With her mind made up, Winter activates the Fire and Water Dust in her sabers and the two combatants, along with a sizeable portion of the arena, are enveloped in a large cloud of steam. Using the momentary distraction, she jumps backwards, but a lucky strike form Clover causes the hook to wrap around her parrying dagger and wrenches it out of her hand. She pays no mind to the loss and retreats several meters until she is at the edge of the arena.
Enacting the next part of her strategy, Winter slams her remaining saber into the concrete floor and creates a white summoning glyph around herself. Blue and white Nevermore chicks appear out of thin air and circle her in larger and larger numbers. By the time the internal ventilation system causes the mist to dissipate and Clover catches sight of her standing ready in a duelist stance, her murder numbers in the hundreds as it swirls protectively around her. She gives the order to attack and the swarm descends upon Clover. The older Specialist weaves between suicide dives and flying steel-like feathers while keeping an eye on her unmoving form, expectant of her joining the fray any second. He is clearly pressed by her summons, but experience and… something else allows him to hold his own and slowly whittle down her murder's numbers.
He still fails to notice the herding strategy for what it is.
Clover strikes a Nevermore, causing it to disappear into floating white particles, but is forced to dodge backwards to escape a flurry of feathers descending on his position. He regains his footing, but pauses momentarily as he notices the swarm keeping away from him and his general location. He looks around and widens his eyes when he realizes that he landed just beside Winter's parrying dagger that is stuck in the ground and is glowing with a subtle yellow hue. Before he can even move a muscle, he is captured by a rapidly expanding yellow glyph that takes on the characteristics of antique clockwork.
The older Specialist freezes to the outside world and Winter allows a small, relieved smile to form on her face. Time dilation glyphs are usually utilized to enhance a person's perception of time, however they could be also used to cause the opposite. With Clover trapped, she can do whatever she wishes until the effects end on their own. She gathers her murder around the frozen Specialist and prepares to end this duel. Once enough Nevermores gather, they launch a barrage of feathers at Clover, just enough to nearly deplete his Aura, nothing more.
That's when something happens that causes a feeling of dread to appear in her stomach.
Time slows down for her, even without the use of a glyph, and she watches the feathers descend on her opponent from all directions, when a disturbance in the air forms at Clover's stomach. The disturbance touches the man's skin and forces his Aura to shimmer in protest. His clothing and stomach stretches, as if she was looking at it through a magnifying glass, before the disturbance disappears as suddenly as it came.
This takes place in only half of a second, if not less, but she knows the damage is already done even without looking at the Aura meters.
She watches with growing horror as the first feather rebounds from Clover's weakened Aura, followed by the second and third… but when the fourth feather lands, the man's turquoise Aura shatters completely, leaving him completely undefended for what's coming next.
The feathers turn into deadly projectiles. The next one grazes his side and draws blood, the one after that hits his arm, another embeds itself into his calf and so on, until the barrage ends and the result of her attack is free for all to see.
Clover is still frozen in place with no sign that he registered what has happened. His body is littered with white feathers and splashes of blood hang suspended in the air around him.
The world is deathly silent for a moment before all hell breaks loose.
The time dilation ends and Clover collapses to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, momentum carries his blood around the arena, a few splashes even land before her feet. The lights come back on and the room explodes with activity. People are calling for medics, others call for military police to escort her out of there, but she ignores it all and just stares at the man before her with wide, disbelieving eyes. Her form shivers and she can feel the world crumbling around her.
She risks turning her head to look in the general's direction, hoping that he would somehow be of help, but her spirit is crushed when she finds him shaking his head in a disappointed manner before turning away.
She slowly turns her head back to the scene before her, she is already feeling the beginnings of a panic attack take hold of her. Her breath hitches and the voices surrounding her fade away one by one until she only hears two things.
The ringing of the bell declaring her as the winner and the polite clapping of a single individual up above the loges.
Fortune favors both Winter and Clover as it turns out. The older Specialist survives his injuries and is able to return to active duty after several surgeries and months of physical therapy. That is the only reason she isn't court martialed after the incident, well that and her father's blatant threat of repercussions targeting the military if they dared to put a Schnee on trial.
She is fully aware that the only reason he did so is because it would besmirch the family name even more, not because of personal love or anything of the sort. It still makes her sick in the stomach to know that she only has her father to thank for being allowed to walk around freely.
So, with no permanent consequences and a threat from a major supplier, the incident is swiftly swept under the rug without any investigation. She is still dismissed quietly of course, use of excessive force on comrades is not condoned by Atlas, nor has her display gained any favor among figures present at the time.
Her dream of making a name for herself in the military is crushed and she can feel all the doors closing around her.
Almost all graduates of Atlas Academy join the Specialist forces, but she hears that a group of fellow her classmates decided to form their own group, led by Robyn Hill, "Happy Huntresses" they call it. She tries to talk with them about possibly joining, but they decline before she can even explain herself fully, not because of her family name, but because she isn't from Mantle. The blatant discrimination and rejection from fellow Huntresses baffles and hurts her more than she cares to admit, but she accepts their reasoning with a practiced polite expression and leaves.
And so, she finds herself marching rigidly towards one of the landing pads near the edge of the floating city. She realizes she no longer has a future in this kingdom; the military doesn't want her, her peers reject cooperating with her and she would rather shoot herself in the foot, than go back begging to her father.
The only remaining option she has left is leaving the kingdom to carve out a path for herself.
"And what are you doing now?" An all too familiar voice sounds from beside her. He has been following her around since the incident, just out of sight from everyone else, but not her. Now that dusk was upon them and they were passing through an empty plaza in a relatively scarcely populated portion of the city he chose to reveal himself.
"My grandfather made a name for himself with nothing but his wits and training," Winter responds without looking at him, choosing to instead quicken her pace. If her grandfather could do it, then what is stopping her from achieving the same?
"But you aren't your grandfather, are you?" He counters disinterestedly and she can feel the pent up frustration and anger bubble up inside her.
"What do you want?" Winter grinds out and rounds on him with narrowed eyes.
"Winter, what did I do to deserve that tone?" He questions amusedly and tilts his head to the side. Having had enough of his whimsical nature over the years, she finally snaps.
"You ruined my life!" The emotions inside her burst and she glares at him fiercely.
"Oh, I assure you I didn't," he declines with an innocent tone of voice.
"Liar," Winter snarks without hesitation. His visible eye suddenly regains its sharpness and regards her coldly.
"The problems that caused your life to fall apart were there and would have reached a boiling point even without my intervention. This entire kingdom is built on logical fallacies and its inhabitants are no better. I admit that I've had a hand in guiding you down a certain path to allow you to see these faults first hand, but to put all the blame solely on my shoulders is non-sensical."
"Do you take me for an imbecile? I know you were the one behind the attacks on the SDC and the sabotaging of my duel," she grits her teeth, not believing him for a second.
"Hmm, Did I force your father to raise his hand against you? Or to disown you?" He reasons and puts a covered hand to his chin in a mock-thinking manner. "Did I force your mother to spend her days drinking the finest poisons money could buy?" The cold logic and the condescending manner in which he talks to her infuriates her to no end, but he doesn't stop there. "Did I prevent the Atlesian military from investigating a duel that was obviously influenced if one were to simply check the footage of the fight? Did I chase away anyone who could have provided you with companionship… oh wait, you did that yourself when you left behind your precious little sister to fill in the spot in the gilded cage left open by her kind and caring older sister."
"Stop," Winter growls as she feels the dams holding her hatred overflow.
"Make me stop." All playfulness and arrogance disappears from his voice and he looks her in the eye daringly.
That's all the prompting her emotions need to break the dam. She draws her saber and charges him with a strangled war cry. Before her blade can pierce his throat she is met by an obsidian black knife. It stops her attack dead in its tracks, even with the size difference and the momentum aiding her. She doesn't get time to be confused, however as he retaliates by kicking her squarely in the chest with such force, that she is sent flying through the air until she impacts the hard light barrier at the edge of the floating island. The wall flares up brightly at the impact and she falls to the ground in a heap.
With a growl of pain, Winter gets back to her feet and glares fiercely at his impassive form. The knife in his hand once again captures her attention when the darkness shifts and reveals itself to be a black substance that was just covering an ordinary DUCK she's seen other soldiers use. The darkness swirls and recedes back under his clothing and he stows away the knife.
"Is that all? I expected better than a mindless charge from you."
The taunt does nothing to help her rage, but it does remind her that she is dealing with someone highly dangerous. He was behind the disappearance of an entire team of Specialists and was fast enough to evade detection from an entire room, a room which contained not just herself, but several high ranking Specialists, not to mention the Headmaster of Atlas Academy himself.
She does her best to hold back a sneer and instead adopts a look of cold indifference, if he expected something better, she would gladly oblige him.
A white glyph appears behind her and launches her back into the fray. She separates her blades and launches a flurry of attacks with a ferocity that would leave any of her previous instructors and opponents a bloody mess on the ground. However, her focused rage fueled strikes don't even graze him, what's more he doesn't even bring out a weapon of his own, opting to instead dodge her seemingly erratic swings and thrusts by a few centimeters at a time. He doesn't even bother to move his arms or attempt a counterattack as he weaves between blows.
In any other circumstance this would be beyond humiliating for her, but she planned accordingly.
A bloodcurdling scream tears through the air and her opponent's demeanor changes to one of shock, the first genuine expression he shows in their interaction, Winter reckons. It manifests by him having to actually put effort into every dodge he attempts, even then his movements seem just as strained as the look he gives her.
"You summoned Apathy somewhere, hadn't you?" He theorizes as he finally disengages by jumping backwards. His visible eye droops a bit lower as a result of the exposure to the insidious creatures she has summoned during their engagement.
"You can only thank yourself for bringing them for me, bastard," Winter spits distastefully. "Grandfather's notes didn't mention if it's possible to summon people I've killed and I'm eager to find out, so stay still." She is done with the demons haunting her life and she would do anything to get rid of one of them at least. Winter reforms her weapons into one and slams them into the concrete below their feet.
A summoning glyph appears on the ground and grows in all directions until it covers a good portion of the abandoned plaza they are in. Winds howl and pick up snow from the environment to form a localized snowstorm that slightly reduces visibility for both of them. For the first time since she knows him, he fully opens his cloak, revealing more black and silver clothing, and settles into a combat stance with two obsidian colored knives in hand.
She was always told that her potential rivaled her grandfather's, but she never had the chance to prove it before. This time however, she isn't going to hold back.
Winter narrows her icy blue eyes in determination and begins their deathmatch. Several white Sabyrs and Beowolves emerge from the ground and leap at her opponent. He dodges the attacks easily and dispatches the summons with a quick slash of his knives. The summons don't let up however, as more and more of them emerge from the ground to replace any losses. Their sheer numbers soon force him to become mobile, lest they overwhelm him. This is when Lancers and Nevermores start to form out white particles floating in the air and begin to bombard him with ice feathers and harpoons.
With any other opponent, this might be overkill, however Winter knows better than to assume so as she watches him cut down her summons one after the other while skillfully sidestepping any projectiles that even come close to landing in his vicinity. He tries to dash past her army of summons to get close to her as she is vulnerable with all of her concentration focused on maintaining her summons and their battlefield, but the emergence of a dozen or so Centinels between them dissuade him from coming any closer for the time being.
Seeing that his movements are becoming more sluggish as time goes on, Winter decides to put even more pressure on the elusive ghost by ordering a few of her summons to blow up the covers of the heating grid around the battlefield. Pillars of boiling water and steam burst from the ground, further reducing visibility and limiting her opponent's mobility. White glyphs form near the evaporating pillars and direct them in the direction of her ghost, forcing him to double his efforts at dodging. Nevertheless, it quickly becomes clear that even with everything she's done, he won't go down any time soon, so now that the conditions are ideal, Winter decides to show her trump card.
All of her summons dispel into white particles and they are left alone in the cooling mist obscuring their battlefield. He narrows his visible eye at her and charges at her with surprising speed. Fortunately, she still has time to erect a completely transparent dome of ice around her before he gets into striking range. He stops a few steps away and regards the construct annoyedly.
He is about to speak when a low growling sound makes him pause and turn around. Behind him is her most powerful summon yet; a Sea Feilong, or at least the upper torso of one. She hasn't managed to completely summon one yet, it takes up too much of her reserves, even this left her barely below a third of her maximum. The ethereal sea dragon flexes its wings and digs its claws into the concrete in preparation as white lightning gathers in its maw.
"Begone!" She doesn't give him the chance to escape as the ice spreads on the ground and ensnares his feet, leaving him defenseless of what's to come. The summon finishes charging its attack and fires a beam of white fire and lightning in a sweeping motion all around the battlefield. The buildings on the sidelines crumble, the snow evaporates all around them as the beams hits them and the world turns to white for a few moments. The beam eventually passes them and hits the blue energy barrier, the walls hold steadfast against the attack, but two large segments fizzle out and die when the beam hits a generator tower. Eventually, the beam ends and the dragon fades away to white particles along with the summoning glyph, leaving nothing but smoking rubble and boiling geysers in its wake.
Winter pants tiredly, but allows a relieved smile to form on her face, she has done it. He's gone.
"Looks like I was right about you." The unexpected words cut straight into her heart. She looks up with a mortified expression as the mist subsides to show her ghost standing before her without a single scratch. "It's been years since I've been pressured like that. You're truly interesting."
"What the hell are you?" She asks disbelievingly.
"Your ghost," he answers amusedly and flicks an obsidian colored knife at her ice dome. It burrows into the ice with unnerving ease and the black substance detaches itself form the weapon. She watches with growing horror as the resilient ice dome that protected her before fractures thanks to the black goo tunneling itself through the walls as if nothing is standing in its way. The black veins eventually surround her and the ice dome shatters to a million pieces, each as small as a snow flake.
Winter shakes herself out of her bewildered daze and rises to her feet, her rage still burning with full power, but he blurs from his spot and clamps his hand around her throat in the blink of an eye. She blinks again and they are near the ruined section of the city's wall. She has a strong feeling that her feet are dangling above a drop a few miles high. Tears gather in her eyes and she claws at the hand holding her up.
"Look at you, clearly beaten, but still too persistent to give up… Another thing we have in common it seems," he chuckles to himself. "Times like these remind me of why you're my favorite out of all my investments." His eye gains a mirthful edge to it and he tilts his head to the side, "tell you what, since you want to kill me so much I'll even out the odds a bit. I won't disappear for the next minute-"
Winter doesn't let him finish his damned monologue and lifts her legs against his torso while leaning backwards with all her strength. The action unbalances them and sends the pair falling over the edge.
"Let's see how well you can dodge in the air," she sneers and kicks herself away from him. A white glyph materializes in her flight path and sends her shooting downwards upon contact. Their trajectories intersect and she descends on him like a living missile, her saber meets his knife and they pass by each other with an eruption of sparks from their blades. Another glyph forms in her way and she repeats the process again, however this time she's forced to deflect a dark knife to the side before she collides with him again, sending both of them in a downwards spiral once again.
The fierce wind and biting cold does nothing to alleviate her spirits as they undo her hair and cause her curls and clothes to slowly freeze. They descend further towards the distant ground while fighting at a distance. He throws knives at her, coated with that same sinister black substance, and she returns the favor by shooting icicles out of Dust glyphs every now and then. They continue this lethal dance, with none of them managing to score a critical hit due to timely deflections or small summons taking hits, until they unexpectedly cross paths with a military transport airship.
He hurls a knife at the hull as they pass by and an ethereal violet string forms between him and the ship. He is suddenly yanked along with the ship and leaves her alone. Not willing to let him get away she pours every ounce of her Aura into one last summon. A rotating glyph forms beneath her and calls a full grown Nevermore into existence. She lands on its back and wills her last summon to follow the transport.
It doesn't take long for them to catch up and see him standing on the airship's back with a gravity glyph holding him in place. She glares at his form and the Nevermore moves beside the transport preparing to land at a military base in viewing distance. However, before she could jump over, he turns to look at her and just jumps off towards the rapidly approaching ground. She is bemused for a moment, until the knife embedded into the hull detonates in a black and red fireball that consumes the back portion of the aircraft.
"No…" She watches sorrowfully as the airship careens into the tundra and explodes upon crashing, most likely killing everyone on board. She doesn't let herself mourn for long and wills her avian summon to dive after him. It shouldn't take long now, perhaps another few seconds until they reached ground level.
She gets near him in half that time and prepares to end this battle by pelting him with ice feathers the size of trees, but a strange disturbance appears before his mask and spews out black knives by the dozens. Despite her best efforts of dodging, many still hit and stagger her Nevermore. Those same violet strings appear between them and they slow his descent until he's able to land on the snowy permafrost with relative ease. In comparison, her summon comes to a dead stop ten or so meters above the ground and the flapping of its wings kick up snow all around them. It caws at him threateningly and prepares to fire a barrage of feathers, but the still embedded knives explode before it can do so. The fireballs force the Nevermore to dispel into white particles and send her flying to the ground. Her Aura shatters upon impact, but thankfully she doesn't suffer any life threatening injuries.
She lies in the cold snow for a few moments, struggling against a splitting headache, before forcing herself to her feet with blade in hand. He is already standing a few meters in front of her, waiting expectantly.
"You won't get away with this… The military is probably already on route to detain you for blowing up that airship." Winter sways from side to side, she can feel something warm trickle down her temple, her legs also hurt for some reason.
"Oh, you mean the military that's coming to detain you?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" She grits her teeth and forces her body to stand tall.
"Well, you know my track record with security forces and detection. Your very recognizable summon on the other hand…" He leaves the sentence hanging, letting her come to the conclusion on her own. It only takes a second for her to connect the dots and she can feel dread slowly replace her anger.
"A bitter dropout with a history of violence attacking a defenseless military vessel? I don't think they are even going to bother with an investigation this time," he says nonchalantly.
"You bastard!" Winter roars and channels her dwindling strength to swing her saber towards his neck, but to her shock an obsidian black blade that's crackling with violet electricity meets her saber head on… and cuts clean through it without any difficulty.
The tip of her blade spins in the air for a few moments before landing in the snow not far away from them. She stares between their weapons with detached incredulity, now only noticing that for some reason the air around his blade is rippling…
"As entertaining as testing your skills was…" Winter snaps her attention back at him, only for him to headbutt her. The action breaks her nose and sends her sprawling to the ground in a bloody mess. "…Playtime is over."
Winter writhes on the cold snowy ground after the blow and the remains of her sword fall out of her grasp. The anger has evaporated form her and she feels like crying, but she holds back the tears, a Schnee isn't supposed to show weakness…
But she isn't a Schnee anymore, is she?
Tears gather in her eyes as the truth of her reality sinks in. She has nowhere to go, even if she is to somehow survive this encounter, the military would arrest her and she would be put on trial for treason, not even her father could do something against that. She would be either executed or sentenced to lifetime in prison.
Her dream of leaving behind the family name and to carve out her own way is in ruins, and without her dream, she truly doesn't have anything left. She wipes away the blood and tears and looks at her ghost with all the malice she can muster.
"What do you want, Rose?" She spits out a glob of blood to the side and frowns at him, she doesn't have the willpower to do more than that.
"I was wondering when you'd figure it out and I have to say that I'm not disappointed," he chuckles to himself and moves his hands to pull down his silver hood, the motion reveals long, dark red hair pulled into a low ponytail. His hands then move to take off the mask, finally revealing his features to her.
In any other circumstance she would have found him somewhat attractive; sharp, if a bit feminine features coupled with his silk-like hair and captivating eyes would probably melt a few of her classmates' hearts at least. Now however, she can't even think about anything of the sort as a wave of lethargic acceptance over her fate seeps over her.
"I want you to repay me." He looks at her with both of his silver eyes for first the time. She averts her own and struggles to form words.
"I… have nothing left."
"That's right… Your family has ousted you. Your kingdom has turned its back on you. Your world has failed you," he lists off as he approaches her. Each point bringing back a stinging memory of failure and bitterness in her. He finally stands before her and offers her an outstretched hand to take.
"Help me, so we can make a better one."
Winter regards the offered arm warily, a part of her wants nothing more than to spit in his exposed face and tell him to go to hell, another part of her just wants curl up in the cold snow until the military finds her and puts her on trial… But another portion of her mind recalls his words, the bitter truth in them… and the opportunity they present.
In the end, the distant sound of wailing sirens is the deciding factor that puts the nails in the coffins of the first two options.
Winter forces her gaze to meet his and lifts a shaking hand to clasp his. As soon as she does so, a transparent vortex coalesces around his right eye and envelops her entire field of vision.
She would carve out her own way, one way or the other.
Well, that's one Schnee sister turned to the dark side. I hope I captured Winter's character at least somewhat correctly, until Caryll's corruption at least. We don't have much of a grasp of her character pre-canon, so I had to work with some assumptions.
Some might notice that a few events don't necessarily happen when they do in canon; that's intentional.
Anyway, I might do some more of these with other characters if this gets a good enough reception, but TSEP will always be a priority over shorts like this.
Until next time!