For some strange reason, the site wouldn't let me publish this around the time I wanted to. I had to convert the document to Word 97-2003 format, and surprisingly it took.

As always I'd like to thank those who left a review, it means a lot you know, knowing someone cares enough to leave a comment on your work.

Thank You noone297, Majestic Sappling, jin0uga, Bagration, Baoh joestar, TidePoolAngel and Gamewizard2008 (sup homie)! Your words actually help keep me going when writing this. Thanks.

I also see some of you took surprise with the idea of Blake fighting Russel. This was one of the first ideas I had after deciding to move forward after the first arc. It just seemed like something that would have to happen if Russel went walking around with a White Fang member's weapons. Blake would just find out and just not have any of it. Especially after Volume 1.

Well enough of me yapping, on with the main event.

XII

The Tyger and the Lamb: Part 2

From The Desk of Author X

Shining Beacon Contributor Colum

Do not fall.

Forget what you've heard about the place. About the city of Vale. It means the bustling courtyards with fantastic monuments are that of amusement parks. It means the parks and ports, filled with tourists and workers. It doesn't mean they'll catch you when you fall.

The old Vale is waiting just beneath the surface, the dead city built over after a period of war. It's in the eyes of the clerk who declines your card. The bank manager who forecloses on your card. The surgeon who tells you your sister died on the operating table.

It's the discomfort and disgust that your misery awakens in them, as they look away, at anything but you. As they lock you out of the club. You're left standing thinking – Hey, I thought I'd made it?

But no one cares about you if you're damned.

Just because the old city and its problems were paved over with streets of silver and gold, doesn't mean they're gone. Don't think this place has changed. Not in its heart. Not what it is.

Do not fall in Vale.

No one's going to catch you when you do.

Libraries are quiet place where those who fancy themselves to be intellectuals prefer to hang out. The master race of serfs and golden kids who fought with their fists rather than their heads would never be caught dead here. Amongst the stacks and bookshelves, you might find a pair of students getting randy with one another. At least, that's how the library back in Oakwood was.

Centuries of accumulated dust and books based in disproven fact become fiction, that wasn't the library in Beacon. The stacks were kept well, the wealth of knowledge that lined the rows was unimaginable. There wasn't an odorous scent that clung to the carpets, nor were there livestock that'd jumped the nearby farm running wild.

The library here in Beacon was unlike Oakwood's in everywhere. It was vast, clean, and orderly. It lacked the many imperfections of his hometown. And that was what Russel liked the most about the library, aside from the working computers anyways.

Typing away on some matter only he was privy too, Russel hummed a tune quietly, as not to alert the librarian of all people. Not too far away, Sky busied himself with gathering research material from the history section. The blue haired young man then waltzed out of the aisle, a stack of books in his arms and then he gently set them down on a nearby table.

Russel turned back to what he had on the computer screen. He dug into one of his pockets and fished out a thumb drive he'd picked up out of a drug store a couple weeks back. The tech back in Oakwood wasn't thumb drive compatible, it was a new experience to him. But he picked it up fine. Stuck it into the port and dragging his assignment to the drive before removing it.

He was done, might as well see what Sky was up to.

"So what the hell you lookin' up anyways?" Russel asked, taking a seat across from Sky at the table. The young Thrush reached out, grabbing one of the items his teammate eyed it curiously.

'How I Won: Factual Accounts From A Proven Huntsmen' by Peter Port.

Sky laughed awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "It was a late night venture of mine. Reading an old history book back in my childhood." Sky reached into a binder he'd brought along and pulled out poorly copied pages from a book. "The book had references to some sort of individual known as 'Maiden', always referred to as 'The'."

"The book not give a time period?" Russel raised a brow as he reached out for one of the pages. To Russel's surprise, he found the page to be written in a language completely alien to himself. "This some dead language?"

"Yes, actually." Sky laughed. "My mother was an archeologist. She found the book in an ancient temple, learned the language of the dead king that held. And then she taught me."

"Learning a dead language. That's a useful skill." Russel remarked sarcastically.

Sky looked up from the books he'd gathered, his cheerful smile fading, replaced by the cross look that stared back at Russel. "Quite." Sky deadpanned.

After that, conversation ended between the two. Guess Russel just hit a sore spot. Oh well. So the lone Thrush sat back in his chair, nothing left to busy himself with. He'd completed what he'd set out to do. He glanced up at the ceiling, debating what to do with the rest of his day. Russel could head out to the city, grab some supplies, and run some chores. Speaking of chores he should really head out and take care of his laundry.

He was just about to get up and walk out, until something on the desk caught his eyes. Russel sat up and gave the crusty object a good look. It was a Yearbook. Beacon had a Yearbook? "What do you need this for?"

"I must've picked that up by mistake." Sky shrugged, looking up only to ascertain just what his teammate blabbering about. But then a thought crossed his mind. Something about 'blabbering' and 'teammate' got Sky thinking. Now that he had Russel seated here in front of him, he could finally get some answers regarding the man's partner and his leader. "So what's up with Cardin?"

"What you mean?" Russel asked as he began to unconsciously flip through the old yearbook.

"Since when does he apologize?" Sky said before his eyes soon found themselves aimed at the words on the text currently set out before him. "It's rather out of character, don't you think?"

"Nope." Russel said simply as he

"Nope?" Sky raised a brow.

"Yeah. 'Nope'. It's not out of character of him." Russel said as he continued to flip through the yearbook. "Why's Beacon got a Yearbook? Are we going to have a yearbook?"

"Wait what do you mean by, 'Nope'?"

"I mean, do you honestly believe someone could be an unapologetic asshole? That's their defining character trait?" Russel spoke in an eerily serious tone. "Anyways, I finally figured out what's been wrong with our fearless leader."

"What?" Sky asked curiously.

"Oh I can't tell you that." Russel smirked, causing Sky to frown. "It ain't my secret to tell."

"At least give me a hint." Sky leaned forward, placing his elbows wholly on the table.

"Lips are sealed mate." Russel made a zipping motion around his mouth. "You wanna find out what's up with Cardin, just ask him. Or do what I did and go around his back and take a look at his scroll."

"Ugh, you tease." Sky said playfully.

"I'm such a stinker." Russel chuckled. "So, you were talking about this 'Maiden' again?"

The conversation redirected once more, Sky returned to his binder and pulled out his notes. The blue haired young man began to go on, speaking of the few passages he could dig up over the years about something called 'The Maiden'. Such a spectacular and mysterious part of history seemingly forgotten.

Almost as if someone had gone to great lengths to ensure that the world forgot.

Russel continued to flip through the pages in the yearbook, eventually reaching the Team pages. And then Russel froze. The sound of turning pages ceased. Sky looked up from his research once more, stopping mid-sentence, feeling something off about the mohawk sporting boy sitting across from him.

"Something wrong?" Sky asked concerned.

"Nothing." Russel muttered, his eyes narrowing at the contents of the yearbook.

There on the page in the 'Teams' section, there was a photo of four young men and women standing ready to the world. And at the front of the Team was Russel's Father. In the Thrush Patriarch's young age, the resemblance between his son and himself was indisputable. He didn't have Russel's eyes though, they were his mother's after all. That's what he was told anyways when his dad died in his arms.

The then young Thrush Patriarch stood there sporting his sword, the now destroyed 'Darkling'. It looked cleaner in the photo, as if it were brand new. The Thrush Patriarch's team was comprised of two men and two women. It suddenly occurred to Russel that his Father had never mentioned anything about his Team when he was a Huntsman.

They were all smiling, even Russel's Father. There was a joyful quality to the man's features. Creases around the cheeks that hone the constant use the man got out of them. He must've smiled a lot when he was younger. That was something up until now Russel thought impossible. The man he knew never smiled. Never.

But then Russel's eyes began to drift to the team that surrounded his Father. His teammates were an odd bunch. There was a woman in a sleeveless hoodie, armor plating on her wrists and shins. She wore sandals, had an award winning smile and hair bluer than Sky's.

The other man in the photo wore head to toe knight's armor. It was silver and bronze, his helmet tucked under his arm showing his freshly shaved face to the camera. His complexion was pale, seems like one of the few times he ever took off the helmet.

And then finally, Russel glanced at the soul remaining member of the team he had yet to become acquainted with. She was blonde, had a fair complexion. Wore a red leather jacket over a white tunic with armor padding. She had a sash that ran over her shoulder and a pair of guns in each hand. But it was the eyes that caught Russel's attention. Those eyes of hers were the very same he saw when he looked in the morning.

Russel's mother died in childbirth. He never met her. His Father blamed him every day until the day he died for her death. The Thrush Patriarch never mentioned her outside of that context. He never even mentioned her name.

Never before had Russel felt the urge to cry like how he did now. Those eyes staring back at him, his mother's eyes staring back at him with such hopeful kindness. No wonder his Father had hated him. Russel had snuffed out probably the only source of joy the old man had ever felt.

Russel then began to flip through the yearbook, in search of anything related to his Mother, even a name to match her face. There had to be something else, there had to be so much more. This woman he'd never met but whose memory shaped his past, there just had to be more about he found nothing, the book bore no names, only images and labels. It wasn't much of a yearbook after all, but rather a epitaph to remember the dead.

And so Sky just watched as Russel desperately ran through the pages of the yearbook. He was reaching the end of the book by the time Russel stopped his rummaging once more. The farmer's boy paled. Sky was about to ask again what was going on, only for Russel to rip a page out of the yearbook.

Sky began to speak up in protest of the harsh treatment of the book, despite having no correlation to the subject matter he pursued, it was still a book and should be treated with the most respect. But Russel cut him off. The young Thrush, the last of his kind, held up a hand.

"Hey, I'll catch you later." Russel said as he pocketed the page he'd ripped out. He tossed the yearbook on the table and jumped to his feet. He waved over his shoulder and then made a beeline for the exit.

Sky just sat there with a look of confusion mixed with a look of concern. There walked off his teammate, a part of him saying that he should just run off and catch up to him, find out what's wrong. But then there was the part of him that understood that people needed their space. This was one of those times someone needed their space and Sky intended not to interfere.

And so the Lark went back to his research. It was all he really could do.

On the way out, Russel found himself lost in a maze of his thoughts. The world outside was there, but he just wasn't paying attention. Out of the library now, Russel turned to face Beacon Tower far out in the distance.

A scowl formed on Russel's face as he began to march his way forward, full intent on reaching the top of that stupid tower.

Not too far away, Pyrrha Nikos, the champion herself, the invincible girl, found herself leaning against a wall. After her morning jog, one she'd finally managed to talk her leader and the object of her affection, one Jaune Arc into joining, Pyrrha had tried a more aggressive approach to catching the boy's attention.

The aggressive Pyrrha act was new to her. It would have to be refined and practiced. After all, the invincible girl had struck out. That dense, lovable fool, all her signals, her flirtatious laughs, they had just flew over his head. Maybe what she needed was a couch, maybe Yang could help?

No, not Yang. Pyrrha enjoyed the bombshell's attitude, but she seemed more adapt at simply teaching her to flirt, nothing more. She wanted to lock Jaune down, in more ways than one. And so she thought of Weiss, the one whom Jaune actually pined after. But alas, what would Weiss teach her? Pyrrha like Weiss, but even she had her reservations regarding the heiress. Of course she'd never say anything, Pyrrha was too nice of a person to do that.

But maybe, that's what she needed to fix. Maybe Pyrrha had to stop being so nice of a person. Maybe she needed to be a little mean. Weiss could teach her that. But wouldn't that be somewhat offensive, Pyrrha thought to herself. The last thing she wanted was her love life to harm any of her relationships as they are now.

No, what Pyrrha needed was someone who could teach her to be trouble. Someone who could teach her to be unforgiving and mean. Someone like…Russel Thrush? Pyrrha had to do a double take as the mohwak, hoodie wearing member of Team CRDL walked into view. It was worth a shot right?

So Pyrrha kicked off the wall she leaned against and ran to catch up with Russel. She called out to the Thrush, but he just kept on walking, Beacon Tower dead ahead.

"Um, excuse me, Russel?" Pyrrha called out to him as she caught up. But Russel wasn't paying attention, it was full steam ahead, the blinders were on and all he could see was forward. "I don't know how to as you this, Russel, but I'd like you to train me to be, well, pardon this liberally crass use of language, an 'asshole'." Pyrrha said, the use of a curse seemingly foreign to her.

Russel just kept walking and Pyrrha kept on talking. "So, are you willing to help me out?" Pyrrha asked politely.

"Bah Humbug." Russel murmured to himself, causing Pyrrha to stop in her tracks.

The Mystral champion stood there with a quizzical expression on her face. She legitimately knew not what he meant. "I'll take that as a yes?" She called out.

Nearby, Cardin just sat by a tree, communing with nature. A small bird landed on the CRDL Team Leader's outstretched index finger. The taller than average boy sighed as he pulled the bird in close. He gave it a good look as it chirped. Then out of the corner of his eyes he spotted Russel on the warpath. Part of him wanted to see what was up, but he had other plans.

So the bird flapped its wings and flew away. Cardin stood and began to walk in the other direction. But Russel paid no attention to any of them, not to Pyrrha not to Cardin. He just kept walking until he was at the base of Beacon Tower.

Russel looked up, staring upward. His mad expression softened and he took a deep breathe. There was a matter only Ozpin could solve. Now he only hoped that the old man wouldn't mind him showing up in his office twice in one day. Like he thought earlier, the day was still young.

And so Russel reached out for the door. His hand grasped the handle and prepared to pull the door open. But there was a shadowy blur behind the young man. Before he could turn around, Russel was failing to the ground face first.

Blake stood over the unconscious Russel a look of satisfaction on her face. She knew a lot of people who were waiting to do something like that Russel. It felt like stealing candy from a baby.

With no one around, Blake reached down and grabbed Russel, throwing him over her shoulder. With no one around, no one was there to stop Blake from dashing off, speeding poor Russel off to parts unknown.

So when I was first writing this, I had no idea how I was going to fit Pyrrha into the chapter. I've plans for her, this is like my only chance with the world of RWBY, she's got a role in this collection of words. She's too nice of a person to offend someone outright or by accident, so in walks Russel, who else.

Writing for Sky's been difficult, because I had an idea of where to take him, but decided against it. So now I'm slowly building his character back up by involving him with The Maidens. And Honestly I like the idea. Sky's just doing it out of respect for the field, nothing should be forgotten.

The Shining Beacon Colum is going to stick around for the rest of the Arc. Don't worry I got reasons. There's a payoff. I'm not including it for funzies. Even though I'm having a lot of fun writing them.

But oh yeah, Blake totally just kidnapped someone. But more on that next time! Later days.