Chapter 7: The Dravenson Method

"And, of course, I triumphed over the beast! Why, he had no chance at all, poor thing. After, I…"

Reshan smiled as he furiously scribbled the knowledge he had gleaned from Professor Port's glorious tale. He truly was a knight, able to take on the most dangerous Grimm with nothing but a rusty bucket!

He was sitting in the front row, just ahead of team RWBY. The blonde boy (Jaune, if he recalled correctly) sat on his left, along with his team. After meeting for breakfast, the teams chatted on their way to class. Nora still refused to talk to him, merely waving her hammer menacingly at his direction when he attempted to greet her. Afterwards, Reshan had put a healthy distance between himself and the crazy ginger. Other than that, they'd chatted about small things. Yang had mentioned something about her father visiting, but didn't elaborate. Once they'd arrived at Professor Port's class, the group had split up, with RWBY taking the second row while JNPR had sat next to him.

"And, of course, the village I saved gave me the greatest reward a Huntsman like myself could ask for. Not weapons, or Lien. They gave me a bed to sleep in, and a hearty meal the next morning!"

"Ah, what an exemplary case of chivalry," he thought. Professor Port hadn't even asked for money. All he requested was a meal, so he could continue on his quest to save his grandfather's cabbage recipe.

"Now then, let's have a demonstration. Reshan, if you could grab your gear, I'd like for you to demonstrate the proper takedown of a Beowolf." The professor gestured to a cage laying to the side of the class.

It was a rather large cage, if Reshan was being honest. It stood around ten feet tall, with hollow snarls echoing from within.

Reshan nodded, still writing the last of what he'd learned.

Go for the Alpha in a pack, to disintegrate the cohesiveness of the Grimm.

Five minutes later, Reshan stood with his sword and shield held at the ready, focused on the cage in front of him. Aside from Yang cheering him on (And Nora booing), the class was mostly silent.

"Now today, we have something a little special," Professor Port announced from the side of the cage. "An Alpha Beowolf, caught just this morning! Let's see how you fare."

The professor swung his axe, cutting off the lock imprisoning the beast. Reshan simply stood there in a ready position, shield held up before him. A determined visage stared past his defenses, glaring at the cage in anticipation of a fight.

With a horrendous clang, the door containing the Beowolf flew at him. He ducked, rolling to the side to evade an untimely and embarrassing end. When Reshan got back to his feet, the beast was revealed to him.

It stood a good fifteen feet tall, with bone armor growing unevenly over the ink black skin. The mask on the beasts' face was illuminated by the blood red eyes gazing hungrily around the room. It lowered its gaze down to the boy in front of him. The Beowolf let out a confused sniff, as if to confirm Reshan as its target.

Reshan simply nodded, face set. This was the path of the knight, to hold the monsters lurking the world at bay. This beast would fall by his blade.

The Beowolf charged on all fours, jaw open in a silent scream of fury. Reshan dived to the side as it came rushing past. As he did, Reshan attempted to swipe at a hind leg for a crippling blow.

He missed, the blade only slicing air as it arced toward the ground. Thankfully, he was able to rein it back under his control before it struck the floor. Reshan growled, getting back on his feet. The Beowolf glared at Reshan, echoing the scarred teen's frustration.

However, there was a reason that it had achieved Alpha status. This beast was crafty, having hunted humans for centuries. It slowly advanced after the wild dash, claws held to the side to prevent another escape. The scarred teen took a step back, only to bump into the wall. In his haste to escape, he'd failed to notice he'd trapped himself.

Reshan realized his predicament. He wouldn't be able to beat an Alpha Beowolf in sheer strength, and he had no avenue of escape. That only left direct combat, which was risky at best. An Alpha of any species usually required at least five knights, with a direct combat Grimm like this typically requiring more. His chances were slim.

Ah, well.

Reshan leaped up, flipping backwards. Once he felt the soles of his boots make contact with the wall, he pushed as hard as he could, firing himself at the Beowolf. The beast quickly batted at Reshan, trying to swat him out of the air. It made contact, striking Reshan like a battering ram. Reshan found himself crashing into the Professor's desk, the wood splintering as the furniture crumpled.

Before Reshan could get back up, Professor Port lept in front of the boy, axe at the ready.

"Well, now. Looks like you got cocky there, champ," he said. Reshan's ears burned in shame, ducking his head as he got back on his feet.

"Apologies, sire," Reshan gasped. That had been quite the hit he'd taken- his Aura was now at about a third of his maximum. Holding his shield up, he advanced, warily taking stock of his situation.

The class was watching in silence, with two exceptions. Ruby was cheering him on, waving a small flag with the team name on it. Nora, on the other hand, was hollering at the Grimm to "munch and crunch." What on Remnant was with her?

He shook his head, turning his focus back to the fight. Even if he used his Semblance, it would be pointless with no Dust to nullify. If the beast got one more hit on him, he'd…

Wait. What happened to the Beowolf?

The beast had collapsed on the ground, limbs splayed out. Black skin coated in white armor rose and fell rhythmically, and a soft growl could be heard every few seconds.

Was… was it sleeping?!

"I believe that will be all for now, young man," Professor Port said. Reshan turned towards the aged teacher, embarrassment written all over the teen's face. The professor had turned towards the class, grilling them on the fight.

"Now then, what did the Beowolf do to guarantee a victory?" A dozen hands went up.

"Yes, Miss Rose?"

"It pinned Reshan where he couldn't escape," she answered. Reshan ducked his head in shame as Professor Port boomed, "Correct! Excellent, Miss Rose. Now then, could you tell your sister to stop doodling and answer a question?"

Reshan's eyebrow went up as Ruby let out an "eep," nudging Yang with more force than necessary. Yang shook herself, closing her notebook before looking at the professor.

"So, those two are sisters," Reshan realized. "It would explain the protectiveness they showed earlier. Still, that begs the question: Why are their House- er, last names different?"

He put that to the back of his mind. He'd likely learn later, but asking directly would only cause tensions. There was some bad history there, if he had to guess. The worst kind of divide was a familial divide.

"Miss Xiao Long, what could Reshan have done differently to secure a victory?" The professor strode over to the slumbering Grimm as he spoke. He bent down, putting a monstrous paw over his shoulders.

"Uh, I guess he could've deflected the hit with his shield," Yang answered.

"Completely incorrect, Miss Xiao Long. With a low Aura like Reshan's, direct combat is typically a last resort." Professor Port started dragging the beast back to the cage. "A ranged weapon would be appropriate in this scenario. Reminds me of one time when I…."

Reshan groaned as the professor told a tale of his valorous adventures. How had he forgotten to acquire a bow? All he needed to do was keep his distance as he whittled down his opponents' resistance. Why hadn't he thought to ask Dr. Oobleck?

"Hell, I'm going to end up in his debt again, aren't I?"

Yang's harsh words echoed in his mind. "Be a good little beggar…"

"While his cabbage soup was never quite the same again, my grandfather was an expert in the subject. Why, he…."

He'd gotten complacent. There was no other excuse. Inwardly, Reshan kicked himself for his failure. He only had himself to blame.

As Reshan sat back down in his seat, Jaune leaned over.

"You ok? You took a pretty hard hit there," he said. Reshan paused, trying to hide his confusion.

"What does 'ok' mean," Reshan thought. Outwardly, he simply nodded. The blonde teen smiled, his relief evident.

"Thank goodness. You want to talk about it?" Reshan's shame burned throughout his face. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his failure.

"Apologies, but no thanks." His acquaintance simply gave an accepting nod, before turning back to the professor. Reshan turned back, determined to learn as much as he could. There would be no such mistake next time.


After the class, Reshan decided to walk around the campus to try and calm down. Thankfully, his next class was in a little while, so he had time to spare. After a brief lunch consisting of a couple oranges, he stepped outside, where the sun shone and the birds chirped.

"I must say, today is quite beautiful. It's almost picturesque."

His mind drifted back to his first few moments of existence, where the shining sun dancing through the leaves had occupied his first sight.

"I would like to go back there, if only to see that beauty," Reshan thought. He struck out for the central courtyard to find a nice bench to sit on. As he did, the scarred teen made note of the cadets rushing about.

"Why can't they simply slow down," he thought, wryly shaking his head. "There is so much beauty around them, and all they have eyes for is the path ahead."

He spotted a gnarled tree, its elderly branches bowing with the weight of decades. Leaves greedily sucked up sunlight, leaving a shady zone underneath. It was quiet, despite being near the sparring ground. Most of the cadets were still eating lunch, leaving Reshan in peaceful solitude.

Reshan decided to take this as his seat for the next while. As he crouched underneath the lower branches, he was pleased to spot an indent in the trunk. He lowered himself to the earth, leaning against his makeshift back support.

"Ahhh… now I can be at peace," he thought. At the thought, his mind rebelliously brought up the last time he had lost his peace, that being his bout with Yang earlier.

The implications of Reshan's Semblance bothered him. If he had to get angry every time he used it, then he wouldn't ever be able to effectively use it in combat. The veil of rage would obscure his mind, making strategic planning difficult.

Though, he had to note, his Semblance hadn't activated… and he had certainly been angry.

He stretched, taking his shield and sword off the holster on his back. Laying them on the ground, he examined them for knicks and other imperfections. If a knight didn't take proper care of his weapons, he would surely fail in battle.

Reshan spotted a small notch near the base of the sword, but other than that they were in good condition. Luckily, the replacement sword he'd been given was better balanced than the one he'd broken.

"When will I forge a replacement for Lady Goodwitch," he wondered. He'd asked Dr. Oobleck last night, but the spectacled professor had merely shrugged. Reshan frowned as he thought of the combat instructor. Why had she chosen this particular method of activating his Semblance? Dr. Oobleck had implied that there were others during dinner, which the blonde professor must have been aware of. What had made her choose this 'Drelnoch method'?

She had mentioned that Yang would be seeing her at detention. Judging by how her face had fallen, it was likely some sort of punishment. Had she done the method wrong?

What was detention, in any case? If it saddened Yang, it was likely a rather fierce punishment. Perhaps she was being whipped? It would explain Professor Goodwitch's choice of weaponry.

Unlikely. If he had to guess, Beacon had different methods of punishment than what he expected. Not to mention anything that could be done with technology.

Reshan stared into the distance, imagining whatever punishments Yang was going to suffer for causing him such angst. Maybe whipping was still done, after all….

"Hello there, Mister Oobleck. Enjoying your afternoon?"

Reshan started, his eyes lifting off the ground to find Professor Ozpin standing not five feet away from him, eyes twinkling in amusement as he sipped from his ever-present mug of coffee. How had he approached without detection?

Reshan became aware that he'd lost track of time. The sun had shifted slightly from its perch in the sky, indicating that about an hour had passed. He had a half hour before his last class.

"Apologies, milord. I lost track of time." Reshan said. He started to put on his gear

"Usually, I find that when I lose track of time, it is because there is something on my mind," the aged professor said. "Is something the matter?"

Reshan nodded. "You are correct, milord. I would rather not discuss it, if it's alright with you." No doubt he would be offended at hearing Reshan slander his second in command.

Professor Ozpin nodded, the faintest hint of a smile lurking at his lips. "Does it have to do with Glynda using the Drelnoch method?" he asked.

Reshan raised an eyebrow. "Indeed." How had he known? The headmaster simply chuckled at the unsaid question.

"Reshan, if I couldn't read my students, then I would be a poor excuse of a teacher." He gestured for the scarred teen to rise. "Come. We can talk on the way to Professor Peach's class."

Reshan pushed himself from his spot, silently bemoaning the waste of time that had transpired. He had better things to do than daydream about how Yang was being punished for carrying out Professor Goodwitch's orders.

They walked in silence for a brief moment, merely watching the world around them. It appeared that most of the students were in class

"Glynda's methods, while harsh, are extremely effective," the headmaster told Reshan. "She wants to ensure that her students are ready for whatever comes at them. She does not coddle her students." His cane clacked on the cobblestone.

"She does not mean any ill will towards you. All that Glynda is trying to do is prepare you for the harshness of the real world. The Drelnoch method is the preferred method for doing so. It is unfortunate that we failed, but we can always try it again."

So Yang hadn't done anything wrong. Why was she getting punished?

"However, if you are interested, there are other methods we could attempt." Reshan whirled at the words.

"Truly?" The headmaster simply nodded at the outburst.

"Quite so. The Drelnoch method is one of the classical methods for anger- related Semblances. However, in the past few centuries we have discovered another method. It works primarily with emotional Semblances by triggering the emotion in a roundabout manner."

Reshan leaned in. "What is the method, milord?"

"The subject- in this case, you- listens to a song that evokes the particular emotion needed." The headmaster took a long draught from his mug, emptying it.

Reshan deflated. "How would that be practical, milord? I can't have a bard follow me into battle." So much for that idea.

Reshan despised the idea that his Semblance required him to lose his calm. He had discovered from his first few times getting angry that he really didn't like it. Afterwards, his guilt was so strong that it felt like a beast was devouring him from within.

In addition, what did it say about himself? A Semblance was a reflection of one's self. If his Semblance was about rage, then what did that mean about his personality? Was he an angry person, or did it mean something else?

The professor halted in front of a round building. If Reshan was correct, it was Professor Peach's classroom. "The Dravenson method, as it is known, has become drastically easier in the past few decades. Thanks to Scrolls, one can listen to anything he or she wishes, whenever they please." He turned to Reshan. "Speak to team RWBY about getting yourself set up."

"Thank you, milord." As the professor turned away, Reshan blurted out, "Milord, if I could ask a question?"

Professor Ozpin paused, smiling over his shoulder. "You just did."

Reshan couldn't help but smile. "I suppose I did. Milord, when I address anyone else in this manner, they react… oddly. You don't. Why?"

The smile on the headmaster's face vanished, to be replaced by an unreadable expression. "That is a story for another time, Mister Oobleck. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend."

"Curious," Reshan noted. "That was far more abrupt than our other interactions." He pushed the matter out of his mind. Being the headmaster of a military academy likely meant he had to deal with stress far beyond his ken. And in any case, his problem had been solved.

"Now I just have to figure out how to use this Scroll of mine. Hopefully Blake can show me when we learn proper spooning technique."


There was a certain irony to the last class of the day.

Thursday afternoon class was Dust 101, taught by Professor Peach. Given how prevalent the mineral was in her line of work, Blake expected that it would be an easy course, with predictable questions.

She expected that it would be the same for the rest of the class as well. Remnant had grown up with Dust, and most learned the basics before coming to Beacon. It was, no pun intended, rock solid. It hadn't changed for thousands of years.

Which was why it was odd for Dust 101 to have been full of surprises.

To begin with, Professor Peach seemed less like a teacher and more a hyperactive squirrel. She'd buzzed into class five minutes late, obliviously muttering under her breath darkly. She had neon pink hair, and was wearing a ruffled lab coat over a dark green sweater. When she realized that she wasn't alone, her face had turned pink before apologizing at such a speed that even Ruby couldn't keep up. After, she'd started speed reading through the syllabus, stopping only to warn Reshan to stay away from the Dust storage unit. The scarred teen had merely nodded, a slight smile on his face as he watched the professor scurry about.

Secondly had been Reshan. After they had gone through the schedule for the semester, she'd started off by asking a few basic questions about Dust. To the slight shock of the class (and the dismay of Weiss, who pouted), Reshan had practically jumped out of his seat to answer.

Professor Peach had raised an eyebrow, then corrected Reshan. "Wrong. Dust is not powered by 'faith in the Brothers', Mr. Oobleck."

She'd then proceeded to lecture for the next hour on the various properties of the mineral, voice rising in excitement.

Blake had never seen someone get so excited about Dust before. Why did she love it so much? It was like watching Ruby geek out about weapons during training. It made no sense.

The third surprise was Jaune.

Jaune, and his utter lack of knowledge about anything Dust-related.

Blake had hidden a laugh as Jaune fumbled a basic mixing question about the interaction between lightning and wind Dust. The class had been less discrete, with the majority howling at Jaune's expense. He'd simply put his head down, never to pick it up for the rest of class.

It raised some serious questions in her mind, however. How had Jaune gotten into Beacon without knowing the basics of Dust mechanics? He'd never survive long, let alone lead a good team.

The pink professor had mercifully offered Jaune a reprieve, immediately moving on to someone else to answer the question. She asked several different people, but she hadn't asked the boy anything else. Hopefully he'd study harder, now that he was in Beacon.

After the lecture had concluded, team RWBY had made its way to the exit, Reshan in tow. Jaune had been dragged off by Nora, who swore to teach Jaune 'how to make things go BOOM!', by the next class. Ren had simply shook his head, following sedately. Pyrrha quickly got up to follow.

As they exited, Reshan leaned over to Blake. "Blake, would it be alright for us to do my lesson over dinner?"

Crap. She'd almost made herself forget her promise to Reshan to teach him table etiquette. It hadn't been easy, what with Yang's constant insinuations, but she'd nearly pulled it off. Unfortunately, Reshan hadn't forgotten.

"Sure. You want to do it in the dining hall, or somewhere else?" she asked. Reshan scratched the back of his head, frowning.

"In private will do. We don't need to give Yang more ammunition for the bonfire." Speak of the devil…

"Ooh, you guys are gonna do it? Ok, listen up. It's totally okay if you finish first, Reshan. Just remember, it's not the size-"

"YANG!" The team collectively flinched at Blake's outburst. Ruby squeaked, pulling her hood over her ears.

"-It's what you do with it," she continued. "Though I'm sure if you want to go another round, Blakey would be happy to. Eh?"

Reshan blinked rapidly, then turned to face the buxom blonde. "Yang, if my lessons conclude early, I would not wish to bother Blake. She is already doing this out of her goodwill, and I do not wish to impose."

Blake let out a breath, sighing. Hopefully, that would convince her to stop.

"Though, if I require further lessons, I believe that I shall call upon you, Yang. If I had to guess by your outfit, you have taught quite a few individuals yourself what you are attempting to imply."

That had to be one of the most roundabout methods of insulting someone she'd ever seen.

Yang grew a cheshire grin, holding out a fist. "Nice comeback, fancypants."

Reshan looked at her fist, a confused expression on his face. "Why are you holding out your fist?"

Weiss slapped her forehead. "You seriously don't know what a fist bump is?"

Reshan shook his head. "Apologies, but no," he said.

Blake groaned. "I'll explain it to you later," she muttered. How much did Reshan not know? Sometimes it felt like they'd been given an imbecile to watch.

The black haired members of the group split off from the rest of the team, who went to drop off their bags before dinner. After collecting a bowl of soup from the cafeteria, they went to Reshan's room for their lesson.

After a few broken spoons, Reshan started to master the utensil. After finishing the bowl of soup, he sighed, rubbing his belly.

"Ah, that hits the spot! Thank you, Blake. My sincere apologies for taking up your time."

"It's fine," she answered. Hopefully she could get back to her book.

The scarred teen reached into his pocket, pulling out his Scroll. "Before you go, could I ask for one last favor?"

"What is it?"

Reshan held out his Scroll. "I need help figuring out how to use this."

Silently mourning for her evening, Blake nodded. "What do you need to know?"

"I was walking with Lord- er, Professor Ozpin, and he mentioned that there was another method of training an anger related Semblance. Apparently, it works by listening to music."

Oh. He wanted to listen to music? That wasn't too hard. Maybe she'd be able to finish Ninjas of Love tonight after all.

"Sure." She reached over, taking the Scroll. It was an electronic one, as opposed to Dust-powered. It didn't last as long as Blake's, but Reshan's Semblance meant he couldn't use a Dust- powered Scroll.

She opened up the main menu, explaining to Reshan how to do so. He merely nodded, a look of concentration on his face. She pulled up Utube, explaining to Reshan how to type in the name of the song he wanted to listen to.

"Thank you, Blake." Reshan seemed… subdued. Was something wrong?

Blake looked up to see a single tear fall from his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Reshan rubbed his eyes. "I don't know any songs."

Whoops. "Here's a playlist. Try it when you get the chance."

It was one of her favorites. When she worked out, it was what she listened to. Some classics, along with a couple bangers that really got the blood pumping. Reshan smiled. "Thank you Blake. These past few days have been incredible for me. I've learned so much!" The smile dropped. "Yet I feel so lost…."

Blake cocked her head. "Why?"

He sighed. "For every thing I learn, it feels as if there are ten more I have never heard of. You take Scrolls, cars, lights, all for granted. All of this technology… I have no idea how it works. All I seemingly know is war, and not a speck else."

Blake raised an eyebrow. What was he getting so worked up about? " I wouldn't say you're struggling. You answered most of the questions Professor Peach threw at you."

Reshan nodded somberly. "True. But I don't even know how I learned that! When I fight, I merely let my instincts take over. Instincts that I have no ken of how I came to possess. All I have accomplished is due to the man I was, not the man I am now." He picked up the bowl. "I'm going to return this to the mess hall. Would you accompany me?"

"Alright." Argh! Why couldn't she get back to her room!

They padded outside in silence, letting the ambiance of their surroundings fill the vacuum. The sun was setting, painting the campus orange. Crickets chirped in place of speech, and frogs croaked where footsteps would have fallen.

"Blake, I am all of four days old." The statement made her smile, in spite of her frustration. "It is a humorous statement, I admit. Yet I feel utterly lost, alone despite being surrounded by people at all hours of my waking life."

Blake's smile faded. "That doesn't make much sense."

The scarred teen nodded, a contemplative expression on his face. "There are few people I can speak to without fear of offense. Doctor Oobleck, thankfully, is one of them. Yet, he is the only one. When I speak to Ruby, her face burns like the morning sun." He shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "Yang… is confusing. On the outside, she acts like an immature child and nothing more. Yet she displayed quite the depth after my… loss of control."

"What actually happened?" Blake asked. Reshan paused for a moment.

"Professor Goodwitch told Yang to anger me, to help unlock my Semblance." Blake frowned, puzzled. What was so bad about that?

Noting her confusion, Reshan pressed on. "To do so, the professor told Yang about my situation, when I had explicitly asked her to let me do so. She also gave Yang the perfect advice to make me lose my temper, which, as you could probably imagine, was not particularly flattering."

Oh. That would do it.

"So why are you still angry at Yang?" Reshan mulled it over for a moment.

"I suppose it is because of what she said. I gave your team my trust, only for it to get stomped on when Yang started insulting me." He shook his head. "However, after I calmed down, I realized my anger was misplaced. Yang followed Professor Goodwitch's orders. Afterwards, she explained how she went through the same process." He turned to Blake. "I cannot imagine how much it hurt for Yang to see me suffer the same pain she did, let alone have to cause it."

They walked in silence for a few moments.

"That takes… an unusual amount of maturity, Reshan," Blake said as they neared the cafeteria. Reshan smiled.

"Thank you, Blake. It warms my heart to hear you say as such." He flinched at a stray hoot, then turned with a smile. "Ah! My first owl!"

He was a living paradox, Blake realized. On the one hand, he was so childlike in his expression as he smiled at her. Yet, the maturity he displayed was that of someone several decades older than the scarred teen next to her.

"Reshan?" The boy turned.

"Yes, Blake?"

"Why are you always smiling?" He paused, stumbling slightly over an uneven piece of cobblestone.

She'd been curious about this ever since meeting him. He was always at the back of the group, smiling as he gazed around the campus. When a bird flew overhead, his eyes tracked every beat of its wings. One time, he'd walked right into her when he was staring at a bush.

"I smile because I find the world to be a beautiful place, Blake." He idly brushed a branch as they walked by a clump of trees. "Wherever I look, I cannot help but feel awed. Do you know how amazing trees are, Blake? How they grow ever so slowly, yet stand taller than all of nature."

He gestured to the oak tree behind them. Blake craned her neck to look at the top boughs, where she could make out a lone owl shaking itself awake.

"That tree has likely been here for almost eighty years, Blake. How many have passed underneath it? How many students have unknowingly benefited from its shade, as they rush from class to class?"

"Hundreds," she replied. Reshan nodded.

"It is small details like these that make me smile. This world is a beautiful place, and I want to understand it. To connect with it."

"That's a nice idea, but the world isn't all sunshine and rainbows," Blake responded. A saddened expression washed over the shaggy teen. "This is true." He stared out into the fading sunlight. "There will always be those who don't wish for peace." He turned back to her. "But that doesn't mean I can't appreciate what I have now."

Blake thought about that. What if she didn't have to constantly worry about the White Fang? What if her biggest concern was schoolwork?

Yang was so carefree. She didn't lie awake at night wondering if her boyfriend was coming for her. But Blake didn't have that luxury. She had to stand ready for when her past caught up. She could only run for so long.

But why not try to be happy in the meantime? She didn't want to be miserable. That had been the whole point of why she ran in the first place.

Blake decided to try and take the weekend off. Yang had mentioned something about heading to an arcade Friday night. Maybe she'd ask to join her.

Oh! And maybe Ruby could come too! She definitely seemed like the kind of girl to enjoy that kinda place. Maybe Weiss…

How had it come to it that Blake was considering spending the weekend with the SDC heiress? Back in the White Fang, the Schnees were despised. Yet here she was.

As they approached the cafeteria, Reshan bowed slightly. "Thank you for accompanying me, Blake. I hope I wasn't a bother."

Consumed by her thoughts, Blake nodded idly. "Have a good night, Reshan."

"To you as well, Blake."

Blake went back to her comfy bed, but not to read. For the first time this semester, she didn't touch her novel the entire night. Instead, she slept soundly.


A bush rustled.

"Mission accomplished, sir. I've found the traitor."


The battlements were almost overrun.

The king felt his spirit crack as Ursai crashed into another battalion, roars drowning out the screams of dying men. He waved his hand, Projecting another Sentinel into their midst. With a clank, it proceeded to swing its fists into the tide of black, beating away the beasts. As one of the Sorcerer Kings, his power was great, but limited. Unless something drastic changed, the citadel would likely be breached within the hour.

Reshan hummed along with the song, listening to the story it told.

A horn bellowed, signaling the last of the reserves being committed. Horses screamed as they pushed against the tide of black, their knights thrusting lances desperately to keep whatever fragile hold on life that they could.

He turned from his lookout post in the castle, his attendants flocking to him. He ordered for the royal armaments to be brought to him. If his men would face death today, he would accompany them to the pearly gates himself.

He tapped his foot to the beat.

The aged king somberly mounted his loyal steed. She had faithfully served him through many battles. Today might be the last.

The gates of the castle opened before him, leading out into the carnage that had been his home. His honor guard quickly moved to his flank, shielding him. They were his closest friends, the ones who stayed by his side all these years.

If reinforcements didn't get here soon, they would fall.

The king roared, pale white hair glowing with power. A power that, while great, was shadowed by the responsibility he shouldered.

The solemn duty of a king. To be alone, despite being surrounded by advisors and ministers. To sit late at night, tears of frustration staining the parchment of a decree that would determine the fate of his subjects. To never have the ability to walk among his subjects in anonymity.

To give his life in service for the people. The ultimate sacrifice.

What a song! It made him want to move, to stand, to fight.

Bright pillars shot up around him as he reached into the past, summoning warriors that could not be killed.

Not again, at least.

He charged, lance held at the ready. His Sentinels would buy time, but they would be quickly overwhelmed without support. Thankfully, his men knew of the legendary might their king could wield, and cheered as they fell in formation. In a few short seconds, the battalion had been restored to fighting capability.

He exhaled, putting extraneous details out of his mind. Thinking in combat could get you killed. He Projected an Emblem behind himself to shield his back.

The first Beowolf died swiftly, his lance piercing the neck soundlessly. Turning quickly, he speared a Boartatusk in the process of charging his mount.

He adjusted the device on his head- erm, headphones, if he recalled correctly- to hear the music a little better.

A flock of Nevermores soared overhead, briefly blotting out the sun. He raised his arm, signaling for the archers to fire. A moment later, a barrage of arrows flew, scything down the dark birds as their cries echoed into the vast sky.

The next one screamed revenge, but it fell to his spear. With its dying breath, it dented the lance.

A lone Gryphon crashed before him, declaring its challenge by tossing a limb at him. He discarded his lance, Projecting a sword as his replacement. To challenge a king was to die. This animal was no different.

His allies fought with courage, bravely sacrificing their lives for the sake of the commoners huddled in the keep. He dismounted after a King Taijitsu tore a leg off. Summoning more Emblems, the king started to funnel the Grimm before him into a killing zone for his men to slaughter.

Before long, he was the last man standing. The piles of Grimm stood ten metres high in some places, bathing the field in smoke. He could almost pretend that he couldn't see the mounds of corpses rising to the same height.

Stretching forth his hands, he concentrated. He would fight until his last breath. He Projected an extra layer of armoring, adding a greatsword for good measure. He could afford its wild swings. Typically, there would be concerns of friendly casualties, swinging with such recklessness. There was no such concern, for there were no allies to injure.

Snarling, he Portaled to the gates, where a beleaguered sergeant bellowed for his squad to stay in formation. Stepping out of the blazing white Emblem, he slashed through the crowd of Ursai at the gate. With a sickening crunch, they fell apart. Turning, he stared out at the hellish army facing him.

He roared his challenge, declaring his sovereignty over these lands. The next charged, and the one after, and the one after….

As the song faded, Reshan opened his eyes.

"What a melody," he breathed. This music was something else entirely. It made him want to lose himself, to simply drift away on the divine voice that sang it.

He looked down at the Scroll, noting the name of the song.

Mirror, Mirror

Weiss Schnee


A/n: So, what's new? Hope you're all doing well.

I wanted to reply to a couple of reviews:

Jack Redhawke- Thank you for catching that. I'm not quite the best at reviewing- I don't have a beta, and my schedule doesn't allow for a lot of checking. I made the edit, and I'll try to catch any more slips of the tongue like that. If you see more, feel free to let me know.

selfishgecko- I'm glad you think so! I have to say, writing comedy is not easy. I have no idea how some people do it for a living.

See you all next week!

Next Chapter: March 13: