There was a commotion outside.

Raven woke up. She was always a light sleeper – somewhat of a necessity for someone who leads a bandit tribe – and while her "subordinates" getting a bit too rowdy wasn't unusual in the slightest, Raven's well-honed survival instincts told her that it wasn't just another drunken brawl. No, whatever was happening in her camp was serious – and bad news for her.

Shay came running into Raven's tent as the woman was putting on her armour. The man didn't even need to be asked anything – he started babbling right away.

"Some woman – a huntress, I think – came to the gates – said she wants to talk to you – didn't want to give us her weapons…"

Raven was only half-listening to him at this point. She grabbed Omen from where it rested near her bed, put on her mask, and went outside, Shay trailing behind her.

Whoever this huntress was, Raven was ready to show her why you don't mess with the Branwen tribe… or so she thought.

Outside was chaos.

The huntress was indeed alone, but that didn't seem to inconvenience her in the slightest, even as she faced off against most of the tribe. She was fast, never staying in one place for more than a second, and the strikes of her twin swords were accurate and vicious. Two raiders tried to attack her from behind, raising their axes and letting out a battle cry – and a moment later they went down as the huntress swung her sword once, not even looking at them. Another one aimed her shotgun and fired – but the huntress used her cloak to shield herself from the shot, and then she appeared right in front of the shooter, a slash of her sword cutting the gun in two right in the raider's hands.

Some tribe members attempted to flee, rather than fight – but the entire camp was surrounded by some sort of white, shimmering barrier, and for some reason none of them dared to go past it.

Still, if it was any other attacker, Raven would have interfered. To Grimm with secrecy – she'd unleash the power of the Maiden on the brazen huntress, and that would be the end of it. Dead men tell no tales, after all – and neither do dead women.

But as Raven watched the huntress, as she took in her white cloak, her twin billhook swords, her fighting style… she was less and less sure of that last statement.

Because the one currently tearing through her tribe like a hurricane, impossible as it may have been, was none other than…

"SUMMER!"

As the huntress heard Raven cry out her name, she paused. Three raiders, seeing an opening, tried to rush her – but she somersaulted right over them, stepped on another raider's head mid-flight, sending him stumbling to the ground, and landed right in front of Raven.

"Is that you, Rae?" the woman asked. "You're kind of hard to recognize in this mask."

There is no doubt about it, Raven thought as she slowly took her mask off. This is Summer Rose… but how? How did she survive? And why is she here?

"Sorry for causing a scene," Summer continued, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "Your men tried to take my weapons from me… they should've known better, I think."

The men in question – about a half of them down or visibly stumbling – looked at the two women in confusion. Without thinking, Raven gestured them to stand down.

"Summer…" the tribe leader started, unsure what exactly to ask. "What… what happened to you?"

Now that she could take a clear look at Summer, she could see that her former leader had changed. Not just in age – there were scars visible on her face and hands, her cloak and swords were different, although they did resemble the ones she used at Beacon, and her eyes… wait, was one of them darker than the other?

"You know, Rae…" Summer said, in an odd, unfamiliar tone. "I could ask you the same question."

"W-what?"

"I remember how you left, you know," she continued. "Left Tai, left your own little daughter… all for the sake of your tribe. And I thought – you're going to laugh, but I honestly thought – that you were going to do something worthwhile. Change things… make the Branwens something more than a bunch of pathetic murderers."

The acid in Summer's words made Raven recoil slightly.

"But you know, Rae… I've seen things on my way here. Settlements abandoned… entire villages gone… people who lost everything, who watched their families killed in front of them – and each and every one of them cursed the same name. The name of the Branwen tribe."

"Summer…"

"But let's say you don't care about any of it. Not about the people, not about the cause that you abandoned, not even about your own daughter losing an arm – yes, Raven, I know about that, too – but don't you understand that if she wins, it'll be over for all of us? For your tribe and for you, too?"

"Salem is too strong…"

"And you decided to make her job even easier, didn't you?" Summer cut her off. "Taking the power that never belonged to you – and running away with it, using it to devastate villages and leave them for the Grimm to feast on."

"How do you-"

Summer acted as if she didn't even hear her.

"Oh, I know what you're thinking. 'This isn't the Summer Rose I knew', right? Well, that might be true… but this isn't the Raven Branwen I knew either. Or… was I just deluding myself? Were you always this pathetic, Rae?"

"Enough!" Raven bellowed, her hand going to Omen's hilt.

Summer, for her part, just cocked her head to the side and smiled slightly.

"I agree. Enough. I have a lot of old scores to settle… and you have a lot of sins to repent. We'll kick a lot of ass together – just like old times, right?"

Raven exhaled slowly. She still didn't know what to make of this Summer – her former friend who somehow returned from the dead, all of her old cheerfulness seemingly replaced with bitterness and hate – but she was not going to fight Ozpin's wars for him. Not again. Not even for Summer.

"Summer," the tribe leader started. "If you think I'm going to help you fight – whoever it is you want to fight…"

"Kill, Rae," Summer corrected. "What I'm going to do is to kill. And as for you helping me – well, of course you will. You were always going on about how the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must, right? But tell me this, Raven…"

The huntress smiled – if this cruel grin could be called a smile.

"What makes you think you're the strong one here?"

Raven tensed. So did her raiders – even if none of them made a move.

"You're strong, Summer," she admitted. "You were always strong… but you know you can't beat me alone."

Raven let her eyes glow as she said that – no need to hide that anymore. Summer, though, was unfazed, and her grin became even wider.

"Oh, I know that," she responded. "That's why I didn't come alone."

As Summer said that, the shimmering barrier that still surrounded the bandit camp disappeared for a second – and Raven couldn't help but gasp at what she saw.

An army of Grimm surrounded them. Beowolves, Ursae, Deathstalkers… and Summer kept all of them at bay, all by herself?

"Sure, I can't defeat you," the huntress said casually. "But I can fight you long enough for the Grimm to do their job."

"You can't-"

"Why not? It's exactly what you did to many villages, isn't it? Don't you think you have it coming, at long last?"

Raven ground her teeth. Summer was right… fight or flee, but if the barrier went down, the tribe would be doomed – and there was nothing she would do to stop it.

"Fine," the tribe leader spit out. "I'll do it… I'll help you kill whoever you want to kill. For my tribe."

"I'm sure you will," Summer responded, and then sheathed her swords. "Come on, let's go to your tent – we have a lot to talk about."

As Raven turned to follow her leader – who went past her into her own tent – Shay suddenly spoke up.

"W-wait, hold on a second? What does this all mean? Who are you?"

Summer raised an eyebrow, turning to the man.

"Did I not introduce myself? Oh, pardon my manners."

She curtsied slightly.

"My name is Summer Rose… and I will have my revenge."

A/N: Welcome!

This is one of the short stories I've written for Writing Prompts Wednesdays on the RWBY subreddit, and decided to post here as well. This time, the prompt was this chapter's last line.