She didn't know all the details. All she could discern for certain was that her agents had failed at Haven.

Leo tried to flee and Salem dealt with him. Fair enough, he had always been an expendable asset. She'd have spared his life if he'd given her what he promised, but seeing as he hadn't...

Cinder was the turning point, when Salem briefly felt her connection to the Grimm she'd bound to her disciple sever. For a moment Salem had thought the worst… until she realized why the connection had been lost. Because magic not imbued to her -not bound to Cinder by Salem's creature- had encased the Grimm and Cinder with it, momentarily blinding Salem from seeing her tool.

It had been a long time since she felt that magic herself. They all rushed to show her what they could do when the power awakened within them… Salem recalled feeling tickled by a cold breeze brushing past, then comforted by the small hand generating it again reaching out to find her own.

Salem put that thought aside. The moment Ozpin withdrew the power from himself and placed it in four other girls -ones not unlike the ones she'd known before- that touch no longer belonged to her. That life no longer resonated as being her own. The lives lost were a tragedy, but Salem had overseen the end of far more. She meant to exceed even that number, when her work was finally done.

But to achieve her aim, she needed the relics. Her eyes were running from Haven, leaving her with no clear way to ascertain where Qrow and the students would flee. Her Grimm couldn't get into the kingdom while its defenses remained in place. She had only one left at Haven, one not made for combat… most of the time.

Still, she would use the asset she had. It would keep to the shadows and observe from afar..

Blinding light.

Something in Haven shone so brightly -so painfully- as to frighten her Seer and drive it away. Salem took the reins herself, commanding her eye to open, whatever its instincts to the contrary.

She did not know the boy who shone so brightly. He had a lot of Aura… and a Semblance only newly awakened. His light was so intense it caused her Grimm pain to dwell upon it.

But light was never so all-encompassing as to hide every secret illuminated in its glow. Salem could see Ozpin's last eye holding the Relic of Knowledge, and the silver-eyed girl who'd so vexed dear Cinder..

It would pain her Seer to follow the wandering light. But still Salem would bid it so.

She had only this single eye left. Painful as the light may have been, she meant to use it.

Her Seer had to be careful in pursuing them. The cover of darkness only helped so much when the school was surrounded by policemen, students, Huntsmen, and Faunus who may have been able to discern the Grimm's presence in the dark. But still it did as Salem bid, waiting for its opportunities to move and following after the intense, baneful light.

The Seer had natural weapons. Its first instinct was to snuff out the light of Aura when it was vulnerable, when it felt safe after battle and exertion. But that wasn't what Salem sought from it. She bent the Seer to her will, turning its tendrils on its own black flesh to spill its ichor upon the boy while he slept.

She had a general idea of his location. Now she sought to find more about his temperment and know her enemy better. She moved only a thin trace of the Seer's black blood upon the boy, but enough to seep in while his defenses were down.

Salem held firmly with one hand to the Seer. With the other she reached to the boy's warmth, reaching through its blood into an unfamiliar body… but a body with so much light it would repel the darkness and survive the contact with the Grimm's true essence.

The light would purge the infection quickly. But so much light on such a tiny patch of black would leave a deep shadow… one Salem could easily drive further into this boy's soul. The Aura that existed in such abundance in him would help guide her on her journey, marking the path for her like the gaps of white between the inky black strokes of a pen.

Salem dove deep into him now, reaching as far as she could without losing her grip on the Seer. Once her shadow delved past the manifestation of the soul, from the surface to the root…

The same thought tormented him again and again. The same two moments repeated again and again, leading into one another in a never-ending cycle.

Cinder -Salem recognized- though her image had been distorted by his memory. She appeared a cackling madwoman, rather than the confident and composed individual she'd been at Beacon. She was gleeful at having stolen the latter half of the Fall Maiden's powers from Amber, and drunk on her power she struck the boy aside with frightening ease.

The next moment was of a woman Salem didn't know, with dark red hair and piercing green eyes. She was a beauty, and the boy should've been grateful to have such a woman reach over and kiss him.

But then Salem saw why the memory tortured him so. Moments after she did so, she pushed him away. Not out of rejection, no… to save him. To put him out of harm's way while she returned to the battle, hoping to make some difference in repelling this adversary she could never hope to best, and the boy watching helpless as she ran off to the fight.

Salem saw it repeat again and again, the memories triggering one another. He wasn't strong enough to make a difference, so his… significant other ran off to fight and die instead. He cycled back, again and again, replaying his biased accounting of history, his personal torture.

Salem knew how such moments could be torment. There was no way to rewrite what had already been inscribed. The ink was dry, the paper worn. Knowing there was no way to change what had been written didn't make the memory easier to live with. She died because he wasn't strong enough and he wasn't strong enough, so she died.

It wasn't so long ago she still dreamed. It wasn't so long ago she was tormented by cycling the same two memories.

Defeat. And loss.

Failure. And death.

But this was not moving her closer to her goal. She needed to look past this boy's suffering and find information she could put to practical use.

Salem spilled more of the ichor upon the boy, trying to reach deeper into his soul…

In that moment, in the vault beneath Beacon, Jaune Arc saw a pale ghost reaching out to him after Cinder knocked him away. He saw a woman in black reaching out that hadn't been in his memory before.

But had been in his memory hours earlier, when Emerald cast a terrifying illusion..

"Salem?" Jaune inquired.

The moment of his memory paused. The pain of the past was supplanted by the fear of the present.

And Salem… paused.

Jaune wasn't used to having any freedom of movement. Usually the memory simply replayed, and he could do nothing to alter the course of events. No matter how he tried to dodge Cinder's blow and even shun Pyrrha's kiss, every time events played out the same.

Yet now he could move, albeit with great effort as he forced himself to stand. Around him, Cinder, Ozpin, and Pyrrha remained static, frozen in that moment in the vault. Only Jaune moved.

Jaune and the ghost now haunting his dream.

Salem composed herself quickly. "Don't be afraid, child. I only seek answers."

The boy was already on the defensive. "You're not getting anything from me. Not after all you've done." His words came slow from is mouth, but he wasn't used to speaking in such a domain. No doubt his mind would have trouble processing this invasion Salem orchestrated.

"Oh? And what -exactly- have I done to wrong you?" Salem inquired, playing coy.

She had to rile him up; get his emotions to the surface. Buried deep in his subconscious thoughts, he'd have a hard time filtering. The task of discretion would be even more difficult if Salem needled him.

"You… you sent Cinder to Beacon," the boy snapped. "You sent Tyrian to capture Ruby. You sent the White Fang to destroy Haven."

He was still only nibbling at the edges. Salem could clearly see what this boy hated her for.

And… oddly enough, it was something she understood. "Say the real reason," Salem requested.

"Cinder," the boy said again. "You sent Cinder…"

"Say it," Salem requested. "It feels better to give your anger voice."

Jaune couldn't speak her name. But he could frantically point to her, to her dark red hair and green eyes. "Killed her… you killed her…"

"Yes," Salem agreed. "I have killed many more than her. Before my work is done I'll kill even more than that."

"Why?" Jaune raged at her. "Why would you do that?!"

His hatred of her was mingled with a different thought. The simple, naive thought of a child.

The direct and practical question. One he thought he wanted an answer to.

"Revenge," Salem answered simply. "Nothing I've taken will matter to me like the lives I've lost."

She hadn't meant to tell him that. It was her speaking unrestrained now.

Because she'd had too many reminders today. It steeled her resolve.

And made her speak the truth.

"Because he killed my children."

Her memory was as biased as Jaune's had been. Salem engaged in that battle too, and her magics had almost certainly killed one of them. They did nothing but plead with their parents to stop.

Salem would never have harmed them had Ozpin not tried to abscond with them in the night. She'd still have her children had their father not betrayed her and robbed her of the only things in the world that truly mattered to her… made her want to give humanity another chance after it had squandered so much time, even under her guiding hand.

Jaune may have hated her for all she had done. But even he couldn't help but sympathize with the thought of a mother outliving her child. Even buried in his subconscious, he couldn't compartmentalize one feeling that so clashed with another.

Salem kept her composure. "Ozpin took my world from me. He took away eveything that I loved."

She had pallid gray skin and burning red eyes. He wouldn't see a tear forming unless he was brave enough to look right at her.

"Your.. friend," Salem chose the word carefully. "She was another he used and deluded. She was another he allowed to die."

She walked over to Ozpin's latest incarnation, running her hand over his frozen cheek.

He felt warm once. Now the only warmth she felt was confined to memory.

Salem clenched her hand over the surface of that cold cheek. "He's gone. Yet you're still helping him carry out his fool's errand. Why?"

Salem jerked her head towards Pyrrha. "For her?"

Jaune had no answer.

And for once... Salem didn't begrudge him for not being able to reply.

She knew why he tortured himself by replaying this memory again and again. She'd been there. She'd indulged the same act, sat through the same endless cycle.

"Ozpin has lied to you, child," Salem told him. "Ask him just how much."

She hadn't found her answer. Turning him against Ozpin now was little more than spite.

No... not just spite.

For a moment, he'd pitied her. For a moment he'd sympathized with her plight.

And for a moment... Salem had returned the feeling.

Something about this moment, these circumstances, these feelings...

Something made Salem reach just a little further to, feel the cheek of this boy who'd moments before targeted her with his vitriol, whom seconds beforehand she'd mocked.

There was warmth there... just on the edge of her fingertips.

Salem lost her grip on the Seer. Her tool finally succumbed to the injuries its master bid it inflict.

Jaune snapped awake and searched frantically around.

All he saw was a faint wisp of black, fading from sight as quickly as it'd passed his eye.