Before I start, I'd just like to thank you all for the astounding amount of good will this story has received over the last couple of weeks. As a fiction writer, quality entertainment mixed with believable story telling is my goal, and it warms my heart immensely to see that I've achieved that. And while I'm not quite sure I'd agree with those of you who have basically stated this story is underrated (after all, I did choose not to star any of the main cast), I am flattered that so many of you apparently think so. And shall continue to do my best to maintain that standard of quality. I was originally going to hold onto this until Saturday, but I think I've reached the point where further edits will only hinder, not help. Plus, it doubles as a more practical thanks for all the support. So, here ya go!
Interlude 1
Shroud
M: ? D: ?
Huntsmen... Huntresses... Slayers of Grimm and defenders of mankind. Elite fighters with superpowers and super skills, that is what they are meant to be. And, for the most part, it was an accurate portrayal. Sure, the tales of their endeavors tend to be embellished, becoming even more grandiose and flamboyant with each retelling... But, predilection for the dramatic aside, the public's view of Huntsmen remained largely correct. What most would fail to realize, however, is that they are not invincible... And quite far from invulnerable, as well. It was, to the Schnee Heiress's shame, a lesson that she had just been reminded of in the worst possible way.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Schnee, but I regret to inform you that as of last night, Mr. Springfield passed away, despite our best efforts. There were complications, you see..."
Winter tuned the doctor out; she may have been unconscious when Spring had been wounded, but she had still been the first to see his wounds, having administered basic first aid once she'd woken up and found no sign of their attackers. She had done her best to stabilize him, using strips cut off of her own clothing in order to bandage the wounds in his thigh and torso... But he'd been lying in the dirt for too long, and the wounds had become infected. Combined with the fact he had been losing blood for at least half an hour before she'd woken up, and the military had taken half again as long to retrieve them after that... It was a tragedy, but Winter was not surprised. Yet, in spite of this, she could not muster up the energy to grieve, instead retreating even deeper into her thoughts as she replayed the events of yesterday.
Despite her best efforts, and those of her partner, the three bandits they had been fighting had still managed to knock her out... Or, rather, that one in particular had, the one who had been using Dust Magic. She and Spring had managed to daze him, bringing him to the ground where he seemed to barely be holding onto consciousness, only for him to turn the tables on her when she attempted to get him the rest of the way there. She herself had been dazed when, after catching her foot, he'd swept her other leg from beneath her and caused her to hit her head on a tree root. She remembered rolling onto her front, where she'd groggily pushed herself onto her hands and knees... Only to receive the same treatment she'd attempted to dish out, a hard kick to the temple knocking her out instantly. She'd remained unconscious for the rest of the fight... But when she woke up, she quickly discovered that she was the only one both alive and conscious. She'd almost instantly spotted Spring, and rendered what first aid she could, but the third member of her squad...
Winter had lost the contents of her stomach when she'd finally found her. Carried several dozen meters away by what had looked to be a fierce battle, Winter had held no doubt as to what ended it when she found Summers bloody, immobile form slumped against a large oak tree. Her hooded cloak, once white, now solid red and soaking from all the blood that had soaked into it. Blood that had drained out of her body via the holes which pierced all the way through her arms, legs, and hands where she had been crucified to the tree. Crucified! Winter was by no means sheltered from violence, having seen a Huntsman or two succumb to the Grimm during her time as a Huntress... But at least the Grimm were fairly straightforward about killing you, their mindlessness preventing them from being able to truly be cruel. This, however... This had gone beyond that.
Or so it would have seemed, had she found Summer in a crumpled heap, fallen when the stakes they'd used had been no longer able to support her. But after taking a moment to think rationally, she'd realized that despite the gruesomeness of her wounds, Summer was propped up against the tree, and looked... Peaceful. A smile on her face, and her eyes closed. And, perhaps most telling, was the hole in her chest; you don't stab someone in the heart if you're looking to make them suffer. At that point, it would have been a mercy killing...
Winter felt herself beginning to shake; there was nothing merciful about what they had done to Summer, to Spring...
To her.
The dam broke, and the tears began to flow freely down her face. Why did she survive, when neither of her companions had? Summer, arguably the most amazing fighter alive, and so wise to boot... Spring, with his incredible physical endurance and his capacity to sense out any man made ambush... How was it that she was spared when they weren't?
'It should have been me. Why wasn't it me?!'
'Because you are weak. Not worth the time or effort it would have taken to finish you off...'
'I am not weak!'
'Compared to the average civilian, perhaps not, but you were defeated with a total of, what, five hits?'
'Those were all solid blows!'
'That landed because you lack skill, forced to use your semblance as a crutch because you could not otherwise stand against an opponent with any measure of actual talent.'
'That's... not true..?'
'Take the man who defeated you, for instance. While talented with Dust manipulation, his close quarters combat left much to be desired, yes?'
'He was amateurish at best.'
'And yet, his reflexes were quick enough, his skill just enough to disarm you, somewhat literally, before he then proceeded to wipe the floor with you.'
'He did not wipe the floor with me!'
'He would have, had your partner not intervened.'
'That is pure speculation, with no factual bas-'
'You were defeated by an enemy who was barely conscious himself. And who was, to borrow your own words, "amateurish at best." You are weak, Winter. Childish. Talentless. Unfitting of the Schnee Mantle.'
"SHUT. UP!"
.
..
...
"Ms. Schnee?"
Winter blinked, bringing the world back into focus. Her eyes, set into a glare, settled on her fist, which had slammed against the wall, leaving a small indentation.
'Any true Huntsmen would have left an actual hole, you know, assuming they didn't bring down the whole wall. Weakling.'
A twitch of the eye was the only indication she gave, forcing herself to ignore the voice; she knew that she had been the least skilled of that group, relying heavily on her semblance and natural speed. Great for taking down single opponents quickly, but not as good against multiple opponents. Or, apparently, one who could react quickly enough to her speed that it wasn't much of an advantage anymore.
'Now she gets it.'
Twitch.
"Are you alright, Ms. Schnee?"
Winter took an audible breath, forcing herself to calm down. Restoring her signature icy demeanor as she removed her fist from the wall.
"My apologies, Doctor, I was just a little beside myself."
"Perfectly understandable, Ms. Schnee. Survivor's guilt is a common occurrence in cases such as yours, and while I'm not qualified to diagnose it, I am familiar enough to recognize the symptoms. I can't make you, but I would highly recommend that you speak to a psychiatrist at some point in the near future."
"Don't you mean a psychologist? You just want me to go to counselling, correct?"
"No, I do mean a psychiatrist. While I doubt it'll be the cause, you do have a concussion, so it's better we be safe than sorry, make sure that it's completely a mental condition rather than a physical one."
"I see... Is there anything else, or may I go now? I wish to be alone."
"You can go, Ms. Schnee. For what it's worth, I do apologize for your loss."
A sad smile came upon her as she stood to leave.
"Thank you, Doctor. Farewell."
As Winter left the outpost's infirmary, she could not help but frown to herself.
'How did we lose? I realize we were outnumbered, and that I made a mistake, but with the way the enemy mage dropped, he couldn't possibly have stayed conscious much longer than I did. Even outnumbered two to one, I highly doubt Spring and Summer would have lost without at least taking one or two of our opponents with them. Yet, there were no bodies. Which... doesn't say much, as they could have simply taken their dead and wounded with them... But all the blood I saw seemed to be either Spring's or Summer's... The pools I found them in. All smaller patches would have been washed away by the rain... Meaning that whatever injuries our opponents took, they couldn't have bled much... which means they probably all survived. Fuck.'
'Well, that won't do.'
'No... It won't.'
'So what are you going to do about it, Winter dearest?'
'I'm going to train. I will become stronger. I will become better. I will... Have my revenge.'
'That's my girl...'
Interlude 2:
Glimmer
(Original Draft written by Lucifer Daemon)
M: ? D: ?
Ozpin was sitting in his office, a heavy weight upon his chest as he looked over one of the latest reports, detailing the ambush of one of the top Hunting teams... And the demises of both Ronald Springfield and Summer Rose. Needless to say, the people who knew were somewhat panicked, and Summer's family were... Well. Taking it very hard, to say the least.
He couldn't help but smile at the end, however, when he saw what she had written in the dirt beside her. Miraculously unnoticed by her assailants.
"And why, exactly, are you smiling at Winter's report? You are aware of the gravity of the situation?" His deputy asked, giving him a suspicious and disapproving look.
"See for yourself, Glynda; the paragraph at the end." Ozpin replied in amusement as he passed her the file. A moment passed as she read... Then her brows furrowed. "Oh, it gets better." She ignored him completely.
"'The deceased's property, (particularly, her weapons),' which, she, supposedly, would never part with, 'were not found anywhere in the vicinity of the battlefield?'" She recited aloud, then looked up at him. "Oz, what is the meaning of this?"
Ozpin kept his smile as he shook his head and sighed. "You know, when I first met her, she seemed to be hopelessly optimistic and blessed with a surplus of energy to run around with... Even more so than even her Semblance should have been able to provide." Ozpin chuckled at the memory. "Only later would would I realize just how...Eccentric, she was."
Beyond arching a brow, Glynda chose not to call the pot out for calling the kettle black, instead settling to ask in a neutral tone: "What do you mean?"
Ozpin motioned for her to sit down. "She... Well, her ideals, really, were a bit archaic, even by the standards of someone of my advanced years."
Again, Glynda resisted the urge to scoff; Ozpin wasn't exactly young, but he wasn't quite old either. Still, his statement was... Frustratingly cryptic, so her visage unknowingly twisted itself into a confused frown.
Ozpin elaborated. "As I understand it, she had a short list of, what she called, self rules. Very specific rules she would enforce on herself, in order to better herself."
Glynda arched a brow. "I haven't heard of anyone doing that since The War."
"Indeed, she was the only one in her time to do so, much to the chagrin of her teammates and, later, her husband."
"While admittedly eccentric, I fail to see the issue-"
"The punishment for breaking one was quite severe, naturally."
"I take it she broke one, then?"
Ozpin frowned. "Only once, and never again after that. She succumbed to her anger and acted upon it, thus breaking the most important rule she'd ever set for herself. As penance, she flogged herself... severely."
Glynda blanched. "So why, specifically, were you smiling?"
"Because of what she wrote just before she died," He said as he walked over to the window, where he looked down on the courtyard, taking a sip from his ever-present mug of coffee before using the window's reflective properties to look Glynda in the eye. "Peace... Worthy... Cerulean. Wander Not Lost."
An annoyed stare met him. "Obviously, I have no idea what that means."
"Peace; it means she was satisfied with the way things turned out, and that she had no regrets... Worthy; she acknowledged her assailant in some way as her equal... Cerulean; they traded names before the final blow was struck. Wander Not Lost, all one sentence; I suspect that is shorthand for "Not all those who wander are lost." Which is a line from an ancient poem... Tolkien, was it? I take it you know the piece, Glynda?"
"Yes... I believe it goes:
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
"In the tale this poem appears in, this is referring to the last of a long bloodline of kings, near forgotten, in fact, to the point where he actually lives his life up until the story begins as a Ranger... Or, put into terms relevant to our world, a Hunter. But these Rangers were not well trusted by those they fought to defend, oft viewed as vagabonds. The third and fourth lines reinforce his royal lineage, alluding to the fact that he had a longer lifespan than those around him, and thus appeared to be much younger than he actually was. The fifth and sixth reference that he represents hope in a time of darkness, while the seventh and eighth are referring to his blade, an indisputable proof of his bloodline, and that he will reclaim his birthright... After defeating a Dark Lord, of course. If we replace the sword... And king..."
Glynda trailed off in shock, incredulity taking over her visage. "Oz, you don't mean to say..."
"I highly doubt that, Glynda. While you and I very much love our fairy tales, you know that Summer herself wasn't all that fond of them, despite the show she would put on for her daughters. But she did like poetry, and while the context of the setting makes for a fantastical theory, the context in which she quoted it, and specifically, which line she chose to quote, leads me to believe she was being a little more literal; that this assassin, this... Cerulean. May just be somebody who is capable of being redeemed, should the opportunity present itself."
Glynda finally allowed the sarcasm to escape in the form of a scoff. "Yeah, right. Next you'll be telling me that Qrow is capable of not drinking for longer than a couple of hours."
Ozpin merely chuckled. "Well, he does have to sleep some times."
Glynda groaned. "Oz..."
"I'm not saying that such a feat would be easy, or even that this person would be willing to try. But I think that, if he managed to earn such respect from Summer of all people, especially on her death bed? Then on some level he probably deserves the chance to be given him. Whether or not he takes that chance, of course, would remain his own responsibility."
Sigh. "Whatever you say, Oz..."
The poem Glynda quotes is "All that is gold does not glitter," written by J.R.R. Tolkien for Lord of The Rings. Which I do not own.
As for how exactly Springfield died (just in case any of you were wondering), Neo nicked his femoral artery when she stabbed him in the thigh; the doctor mentioned that while Winter was spacing out. Not immediately lethal, but fatal if left untreated long enough. Winter did her best after she woke up, but while the dirt that got in both that wound and the one in his side both prolonged his life by clotting the wound, it also caused complications due to infection that simply weren't treated in time to save him. RIP.
Special Thanks once again to Lucifer Daemon for the Light from Shadow interlude; I -heavily- modified it, but the idea for Summer's honor code came from Luci, as did the whole message left in the dirt (minus the Tolkien bits). If any of you ever feel like writing a short scene for this story, feel free. If I feel like it can work with something I have planned, I'm more than happy to include it after some editing. And even if I don't use it, I'll critique it for you; I like to help others grow, plus it certainly helps inspire me to keep writing. And as you can see, if I do use it, I credit the original author. All I ask, in the event any of you do, is that A: Wait until it's clear where the arc is going. Y'all knew Summer wasn't going to win as soon as Lee got back up during part 6, B: The scene remains short. I won't be strict on word count, but I want a scene, not a whole chapter. That's my job. And C: it not be from Lee's perspective. Anybody else is fair game until I state otherwise.
With that out of the way, time to rant... AHHHHHHH! So much shtak hit so many fans, I don't even know where to begin! Great that Ruby didn't all of a sudden take a level in badass and destroy Neo... But I swear, if Neo doesn't somehow survive that I'm going to be livid. She can't go full Mary Poppins with her umbrella and then die by falling. Though I did love the irony of Roman's death... Though, I suppose we can't be 100% sure he actually died, since the Griffon swallowed him whole and Ruby didn't cut it in half. He probably died in the explosion afterwards... But I suppose we won't know for sure until someone confirms it. Then there was Velvet's weapon... Which was simultaneously badass yet at the same time a bit of a let down. Props for the concept/idea... But I feel like the implementation could have been executed better; seriously, no using Sun's abs as a weapon?! C'mon, man! Grate some Grimm up on those! xD
Jaune, Jaune, Jaune... YOU HAD ONE JOB! Granted, it was understandable that he would turn around when Pyrrha started to scream... *sigh* Which brings me to my next point. Nobody else wants to believe it, but to -me-, it seemed like Pyrrha was being sacrificed in order to revive Amber. Pyyrha was screaming, Amber was waking up, Ozpin saying "I'm sorry?" Everyone else points to the fact that the lights on the cables seemed to be flowing from Amber to Pyrrha when they try to tell me I'm wrong... But how do you explain the actual, physical evidence occurring during the transfer? Sure, Ozpin and Co. told Pyrrha they were gonna make her the Maiden, and that might have even actually been the plan. But with everything going to shtak so suddenly, wouldn't you do what Ozpin did? Very much a shtako choice to have to make, but probably the right one in that situation: An experienced Huntress who is also a fully realized Maiden, and thus capable of fully utilizing her powers without needing a learning period, or a novice, even if said novice is Pyrrha freakin' Nikos. So, for that reason alone, I'm actually kind of glad Cinder managed to finally get the power, since Arkos remains my (canon) OTP. I'm pretty sure you've all figured out who I'm -actually- shipping in -this- story by this point, but on the off chance you haven't, I won't ruin it for you quite yet ^_^
And finally... Yandere Adam? Seriously? While I can definitely see it, it sort of felt like it was a bit much. Definitely creepy... Which I suppose was probably the point. All I have to say is that HE MUST DIE! Poor Yang... She better come back next volume with a robot arm. All I have to say about that.
Okay, I'm done ranting now. Haha. Anyway, now that I'm not trying to write three different chapters -and- an English paper at once, I should be able to stick to my release schedule... Which is going to remain every other Saturday, because, like I said, I'm taking an English Composition class at the same time, and it is very time consuming. But the important thing is that the next chapter should be on time (meaning Saturday the 27th of February).
-Until next time,
CaeruleanSorbeltz
PS: Due to a rapid series of real life events (read: a very sudden, pressing situation at work and an unreasonably large amount of homework the week I intended to update this), the next chapter is being pushed back by a week. I'll let you all know what's going on when I release the next chapter, but for now, rest assured that I'm still working on this.
