As Weiss Schnee stomped away, Ruby sat atop a bare batch of dirt, a ringing in her head and the grounds of Beacon Academy out of focus.

She glanced downwards, spotting her good luck charm laying atop a bed of grass. A hairpin carved from silver in the shape of a rose with the stem of a sword. She moved to grab it, but it was already clutched in her hand.

Her head hurt.

Footsteps drew her attention even as she returned the pin to where it held her bangs out of her eyes.

She turned

She saw him

She remembered.


While the stars shone upon the Vale I crept through the hewn masonry of my home. I turned the corner at a portrait of my ancestor, taking a path by the gardens as I walked towards the kitchens. My rest was fitful, and I was in need of something filling to send me to a dreamless sleep.

But the soft wind brought echos of iron striking wood. With curiosity brimming in the early hour, I turned left instead of right, diverting my path to near the training grounds for my father's hunters.

My eyes caught a young fellow swinging a practice sword at a wooden pell. Sweat slipped from his copper-blond hair to his noble cheekbones to his toned shoulders, before disappearing underneath his tunic.

Transfixed, I stood, gazing at that man. But his focus was not for me.

With a grunt, he raised the blunted longsword above his head, and brought it down, sidestepping in a motion I have seen my father perform countless times. It struck the wooden pell, gouging a large sliver from the surface.

Then he stepped back, brought his weapon up, and struck once more.

For minutes I stood there, enchanted at his display of effort. My heart beating in rhythm with his movements.

Soon he stopped, stepping back and turning away from me to a bench near the grounds. As his right hand leaned his blade against the bench, his left lifted a pitcher prepared for him. He poured water from the pottery into a cup, and brought the cup it to his lips. His head tilted and his long hair fell backwards to sway in the wind.

He set the cup down, stretched his back, and turned.

Our eyes met. Silver to cerulean.

After a moment, he spoke. "I had not expected " His voice was soft in the evening. "I am the steward of Huntmaster Renoire. Young I am, but my dedication is no jest."

I lifted my gown in a curtsy, as is proper. "I am Ruanie of Rose," I stumbled. "My name, that is."

Yet he drew no attention to my mistake. He bowed as barons do. "James is mine, my lady. It is an honor."

I grinned, genuinely, for the first time this spring. "Call me Ruanie."

Even from that distance I could see his eyes eyebrows climb his forehead. Or perhaps I simply imagined it. Regardless, his response was as noble as his visage. "I cannot disrespect a heiress of your station."

"What is propriety between friends?"

No response came to him. So I came closer.

As I walked, I gestured for him to follow me. He turned as I passed, falling three paces behind and to my right. I led him to the gardens, and under the moonlight I sat on a marble bench and turned to him, saying-


"-love it!" he finished.

"I heard little of that," Ruby replied. Thoughts spinning in her head, her words falling on etiquette lessons taken many ages before she was born.

The teen released a sigh. "That is… still one of the better reactions I have received."

Ruby laughed in spite of her confusion, something about the teen ringing familiar in her mind. "What is your name?"

His sullen expression morphed into a kind one. "My name's Jaune. What is yours?"

"I'm Ruby"

With a start, she realized her headache was gone. But the vivid memory that was hers but not hers still remained.

She smiled. "Let's be friends."


Authors Note: I decided to kick things off with an old idea that caught my attention once again. This story would mix drama in the present with intrigue in the past, and focus on a mystery explored through memories of a long-forgotten time.

Let me know what you think! I am not expecting a ton of reader engagement from the start, but even a single review would help boost my enthusiasm.