A/N: First fic I've published, so yay! I've yet to actually complete Shadowbringers, so it's very possible that I've gone and mucked some plot stuff up, but I have unfortunately been subjected to some spoilers by my Free Company, blessed souls that they are. They didn't mean to, they just didn't realize I was online at the time.
So, this is a random idea that came into my mind at the moment this fic starts in FF14 based off of what I do know between the spoilers for FF14 and the rest of the game. I'm taking a couple liberties that will be pretty obvious fairly early on, but my aim is to make it believable to an extent. For example, the main pairing in this is my WoL/WoD and Y'Shtola. To make that happen, Y'Shtola obviously has to be somewhat out of character.
The other major thing comes from the spoilers, which I am taking authoritive action here and bringing into what my WoL has already experienced, along with her backstory pre-Calamity.
All that being said, I would love to hear any thought, good or bad, from anyone that reads this! In particular, I'm looking forward to seeing if people feel that I'm writing people in character with their actual words, for example Emet-Selch in the beginning and Y'Shtola through the bulk of it. I'm intending on this story to follow the general story of RWBY up until Volume 4, where it will begin to diverge.
Also, I own nothing from any of these, aside from my own Warrior of Light.
Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy!
Aran Vinland watched the Eulmorans in Bottom Rung work on making The Ladder serviceable again, paying particular attention to Y'Shtola as she moved toward the Talos she deemed hers to imbue with aether.
The Warrior of Light, or the Warrior of Darkness depending on whom you asked, heard the approaching footsteps of Emet-Selch through the use of her upper ears. A Viera, or a Vii, once more depending on whom you asked, lended Aran that bonus.
Of course, she wasn't exactly young either, despite her appearance. Like all Viera, she boasts an extremely long life. But compared to most Vii, she carried upon her shoulders an even longer lifespan. Even now, despite approaching her four hundredth year, she maintained a youth that would match that of a human only just leaving her teens.
Standing at six feet without her ear length, she was also slightly shorter than the tallest Vii she had met, a chieftain named Almet.
Her hair was naturally black, with purple strands woven into it at certain places. Right now, it was pulled back to allow for her visor to be on her head. Her tattooed markings were three purple dots on her chin, followed by a thin purple diamond on each side of her nose were long forgotten with the exception of perhaps the last child she had sired.
Covering her entire body was plated, yet flexible and astonishingly light black armor that shined in the Everlasting Light. Slung across her back was her gunblade, the foremost tool of a Gunbreaker. This particular weapon was the Lakeland Gunblade, a weapon found when she had delivered the final blow to the Lakeland Lightwarden.
"To see the Eulmorans coming down from their lofty city to perform what amounts to physical labor… all from a few words from you and yours, and a couple of actions besides. I think I've finally figured you out, Aran. You are now, as you have always been, a charismatic and surprisingly durable individual. When I first beheld it, I can honestly say that I was astounded, and very nearly decided on joining you entirely. Though, you would not remember it."
Aran chuckled, drawing his attention from his monologue.
"I wouldn't remember it, you claim? I know full well who I am, who I once was. What's more, so do those closest to me. I am, was, an Ascian, an Amaurotine alongside you. Tempering yourself to such a creature, is unthinkable."
Emet-Selch blinked. Then blinked again.
"You… know? And you're still stopping me? And what about Hydaelyn? You created her, tempered yourself-"
"No. I helped in creating her, yes, along with a number of others. But I did not create her to be followed. I did not temper myself to her like you did Zodiark. You were not there, Emet, so you did not see the abomination in it's full truth. I'll leave that to you to figure out. And for still stopping you? Yes, I think I shall. Short-lived those who exist now are, they are still living beings, intelligent and kind people who deserve their chance, our chance, to live. And as it stands, I -"
Whatever else Aran had to say was stopped as the Light within her reared itself once more. With a gasp of pain, she fell to a knee.
"Aran!" Emet-Selch growled.
The burst of light, coupled with the radiating Light aether, drew the attention of both Y'Shtola and Ryne. Without hesitation, both stopped what they were doing and rushed over to her.
Aran looked up long enough to see their approach, trying to keep them away with a raised hand. Clearly, they misinterpreted it as a sign for help judging by their continued approach.
"Come no closer!" Emet-Selch shouted, desperately thinking of some way to save the sundered Ascian.
"Silence thy tongue, Ascian." Y'Shtola answered, ignoring his warning. "The Light within her is becoming more unstable. We need to remove some of it, or she'll have to use it."
Ryne shook her red-haired head. "There's nothing I can do to suppress it more than I already have! Nor can any of us remove it!"
"You have demonstrated that you remember most things that you shouldn't, Aran!" Emet-Selch stated. Both Y'Shtola and Ryne glanced at him with intrigue and confusion, but he ignored them. "Demonstrate her power now. If you aren't tempered to her like I to Zodiark, prove it! Channel Her power through yourself!"
Aran growled as she glanced at Emet-Selch. Slowly, she began to stand while reaching up towards the sky. With one last glance to the Ascian, the man stepped away as aether from Aran began to flow into an orb at the tips of her fingers, before it began to expand slowly, crawling down her hands and to her arms.
"Y'Shtola, Ryne, stay near me!" Aran called out. Both shared a glance before nodding confidently. Behind them, they finally heard the footsteps of Thancred and the other Scions.
Y'Shtola stopped them all with a raised hand, earning Thancred's ire. His words were droned out, however, by Aran's own.
"I'm combining the Light aether with my own, similar to how we've seen the Ascians travel! You two need to stay near me, to make sure we arrive in the same place. Do you understand?"
Both women nodded, stepping even closer to her. Ryne placed a hand on her side while Y'Shtola, to the shock of the others, wrapped herself around the Vii in a show of astonishing intimacy that only one among them knew about.
And then the Light enveloped them. With a blast of power that threw everyone off their feet, they were gone. The first to stand was Thancred, fists clenched as he looked over to the prone Ascian.
Aran woke with a start, feeling Y'Shtola's familiar warmth snuggled into her through her armor. She kept her eyes closed, opting instead to bring the woman closer to her, releasing a husky sigh as she felt the Miqo'te shift slightly atop her.
She decided they must not have made it to an inn the previous night. Grass poked at her neck, while the wind gently intertwined their hair. Her musings were quickly cut short, however, when she heard Ryne moan in discomfort.
Her eyes opened to reveal an oddly red canopy of leaves. Y'Shtola, too, opened her own eyes with a frown. Though she likely couldn't make out the color of the leaves, she could feel something distinctly off in her surroundings. With a grumble, the lovers untangled their limbs and stood slowly, an action mirrored by Ryne. Both of Aran's allies glanced at the Viera, watching the Light within her carefully. But for now, their fears were cast aside as the enormous light within her looked to be the most stable they had seen in weeks.
Aran's ears twitched slightly as she picked up a sound neither of them had. In an instant, her gunblade was drawn and in motion while her feet carried her to Y'Shtola's defense. She only really saw the offending creature, a shadowy wolf-like being with a mask made out of what looked like bone, after her blow had already removed its head.
"A creature composed of Dark aether," Y'Shtola muttered, her staff half drawn. "Thank you. I would likely have not sensed it in time to avoid it. The aether here is… lesser. Not gone, but it feels as if it has gradually faded. Currents, I think, will be hard to come by. We shall have to use our magic but sparingly, and for this I shall have to rely upon you two. It seems that the time has come for me to learn how to swing a block of metal as you do, Aran."
The final sentence brought a wry smile to Aran's face. "It's about time you took me up on my offer. I know I offered to teach you how to wield a sword, but you took my offer and perverted it, before."
Ryne cleared her throat, drawing their attention to her blushing face.
"Perhaps that is a conversation to have when I am not around?" She mumbled
"Come now Ryne, I can share. Viera and Miqo'te are not beholden to one partner, though in this instance we have been fine with just the other. Besides, you've already found the both of us in naught but our skin."
The Warrior placed a hand on Y'Shtola's shoulder and rubbed it slightly.
"Not now, Y'Shtola. We need to find a village, find out where we are. Or if we're even on the First anymore." Aran frowned as she tried to draw upon the aether around her. "I'm thinking not. I can't even begin to form a connection to the Crystarium's aetherite crystal. If we find any locals, they likely won't recognize any names we say. If we're asked, we're just adventurers."
Her companions nodded.
"Now then… the creature came from this direction. Shall we see if we can perhaps cleanse its nest?"
Several miles away, they caught sight of something else instead of the nest that Aran had hoped to find. Along the way, they had fought several more of the shadow wolves with little effort.
"Is that… an airship?" Ryne asked with confusion. The contraption in the sky certainly looked like one, though it was missing the massive balloons, similar to those used by Garlemald. More importantly, however, it was heading towards them.
"So it seems. Mayhaps we should stay hidden? Observe from a distance?" Y'Shtola asked.
Aran shook her head, pointing towards the ship.
"No good. It's already beginning a course that will end with it right on top of us. Be prepared for anything, and don't be afraid to use your magic if needed."
Ryne drew her daggers, while Y'Shtola pulled her staff from her back once more. Aran grabbed her gunblade and stabbed it into the ground and crossed her arms, waiting for the airship to land.
They didn't have to wait long, although the airship didn't land. Instead, four figures dropped from the airship to land on the ground surrounding them.
A quick glance showed them all to be armed, and all being male hyur. One of them reminded Aran of a younger Raubahn that she had seen through the Echo, reinforced by his stepping forward as their apparent leader. Unlike General Aldynn, this man wielded a halberd.
"Not a step further, faunus. State your name and business for being within the private grounds of Beacon Academy."
Faunus? Aran thought to herself. Mentally shrugging, she recalled her thoughts while choosing her words carefully. She could recall several times that her Vieran accent had set some people off.
"We're adventurers, though admittedly rather lost. We'll give our names when such niceties have been exchanged in kind."
The man's eternal frown deepened.
"I'll not give my name to some animal found in the forest." His eyes fell upon Ryne. "And you, girl, why do you travel with these vermin?"
"Vermin? These people are my friends! Speak kindly to them, or not at all."
The Warrior's arms uncrossed, causing the man's grip to tighten on his halberd. When she reached for her planted weapon, the man strode forward aggressively, only to be stopped by one of the other hyur standing closest to Ryne.
"Settle down, Bregan. Your damned racist attitude is going to get us into a bad spot someday, and I'm not going to let it be today."
The man, Bregan, snarled, but stepped away angrily. The man who spoke stepped closer to Aran guardedly, but without the aggression that Bregan showed. Unlike the Raubahn look-alike, he bore a very pale complexion with spiked blue hair. In his hands rested a shortsword and dagger. Adorning his body was a collection of machined black leathers that covered his breast and back, as well as forming bracers. Beneath the leather were blue pants and a grey shirt.
"Sorry. My name's Dolan, fourth year student Huntsman at Beacon Academy. Right now, you're trespassing on private ground of the Academy set aside within the Forever Fall Forest. We'll need you to come with us to Vale to explain your reasons for trespassing."
Y'Shtola stepped forward in Aran's place, knowing full well her lover's feelings towards speaking when it could be avoided.
"Then we shall come quietly, though I believe I speak for both of my companions when I say that we shall keep our weapons."
Dolan nodded slowly.
"Fine, but you stay where we can see you. There's a clearing nearby where the Bullhead can pick us up. No funny business."
The sight of Vale was obscured from where the three Eorzeans sat on board, aside from a taller building here or there once they had entered the city proper. While they were transported, Bregan contacted someone via a device they learned to be called a scroll, who apparently gave orders that altered their course.
When pressed by Y'Shtola for their new destination, it was Dolan who answered.
"The Headmaster of Beacon decided he wanted to talk to you girls personally. Once we land, I'll be taking you to his office alongside one of the staff."
Any further questions were met with a grunt or just by being completely ignored.
It wasn't long until the Eorzeans felt the airship land, a jolt running through the vehicle along with a dull clang. Then the engines powered down to leave a welcome silence until their captors ordered them up and out.
Upon disembarking, they were met by a blonde woman wearing a knee-length skirt and a white blouse, with glasses. In her hands was a riding crop, along with a scroll that she promptly put away.
"Welcome back to Beacon, students. Bregan, Headmaster Ozpin will see you after the lunch hour to discuss the mission. Dolan, escort the others to the Headmaster's office."
The Raubahn look-alike stiffened, but his mouth stayed closed. Aran and Y'Shtola shared a glance, before each placed a hand on Ryne's shoulder.
"No sense in dragging our feet, is there? Let us parlay with this Headmaster, and perhaps we may find one willing to provide succor."
Aran nodded at her lover's words and began to move after Dolan, only to be stopped by the blonde woman.
"Stop where you are, if you would please. My name is Glynda Goodwitch, a professor here at Beacon. I feel obligated to tell you that under normal circumstances, you wouldn't be here and we likely wouldn't have cared all too much that you were roaming the forest. Unfortunately, the forest is being prepared for the initiation of new students tomorrow. It is likely that the Headmaster merely wishes to speak to you about how dangerous it is at this moment and ask you to be more mindful in the future. You are in no way in legal trouble." With the last sentence, a withering glare was directed at Bregan by the woman, before she nodded to Dolan. "Let's go."
The journey through Beacon was interesting. While there was little chatter, the newcomers took in the tower of the main building with a respect that they would have given the palace in Ul'dah. While not as grand in scope, the tower was still a marvel of construction and engineering. Along the way, they passed by youths who looked to have just arrived themselves, and in no small numbers. Occasionally they would pass groups of four who looked slightly older and more experienced with the world. But eventually, they arrived at an elevator.
"It will be a tight fit, but fit we shall. If you'll get into the elevator, please?"
Once they were in, Aran glanced at the panel the woman used to select what she presumed was the floor to travel to, then frowned. She grasped Y'Shtola's hand and began to write out her words into her palm.
They use a different form of written language.
Expected. Stay sharp, they gather aether around themselves. Some form of shield.
Acknowledged.
Glynda watched them with a raised eyebrow, her attempts at trying to see what they were doing failing. Judging by their eyes and smiles when in physical contact, it was clear that they were together, but their form of communication that they had just used was wholly foreign to her. She glanced at the smaller girl who watched their hands just as she did, but saw comprehension upon her face. Shrugging, she turned her head to face the exit just as the elevator began to slow down.
The door opened to reveal a rather large room, surrounded by windows that overlooked the Academy and Vale. The ceiling looked to be a massive clockwork contraption. In the center of the room sat a curved desk, with several chairs around it. At the far end of the room stood a man in a dark suit, using a cane and holding a cup of coffee. His hair was silver, while a green scarf circled his neck.
The man turned to greet his visitors with a smile, though his spectacled eyes caught Aran's attention when they locked upon each other.
The glint in his eyes was all too familiar. A life lived that was far longer than any normal being had a right to live. She recognized it whenever she looked upon an Ascian, namely Emet-Selch. But most importantly, a look she saw every time she looked in a mirror lately. At first, she had brushed it off, along with that feeling of familiarity she felt with the actions of combat. She had always been exceptional, feeling as if her body knew what to do long before her mind recognized it. In the beginning, she had relied upon her instincts. Now, she knew why. Her fractured memories were returning, with the last few places clicking into place only days before they had come here. "Not that you would remember," Emet-Selch had stated, yet she knew full well what he spoke of. He was, after all, her confidante before the sundering. A life she lived that far eclipsed the one she now lived by millennia.
"Welcome to Beacon." The man started with a small bow. He motioned towards the desk, where he now stood. "You are free to sit if you so choose."
None did.
"Very well then. My name is Ozpin, Headmaster of this combat school. As you are no doubt aware by now, you were trespassing on private property. While I make it a point to not enforce such property lines outside the school itself, there are certain events in which I must do so, at least with those that may not be prepared for such dangers. The two eldest among you look able enough, but I must ask why you thought it a good idea to bring a girl with you?"
Ryne frowned.
"I am not helpless. I've been taught well enough by my family, and I've probably fought much worse things than those that dwell within that forest."
Aran smiled thinly at the expression Thancred would have taken should he have heard her praise.
"Be that as it may, the Grimm are not to be messed with. You fought beowolves who possessed no alpha, and they are the weakest of those that you shall find within that forest. But, I am running off on a tangent that misses my original point. Beacon's initiation is tomorrow morning, and my Huntsmen are at work in the forest preparing it for the initiates. I cannot have civilians getting in their way. Speaking of, we still have no names for you."
The three glanced at each other and nodded simultaneously. Aran stepped forward first.
"I'm known as Aran Vinland, the Dragonsong."
"Y'Shtola Ruhl, also known as Master Matoya."
"And I'm Ryne."
Aran placed a hand on her head and smiled.
"Waters. Ryne Waters. Thancred's surname is only fitting, seeing as he practically raised you."
The girl smiled brightly up at Aran while Ozpin took a sip from his coffee.
"I see. I must say, I don't recall any of those names in recent history. The Dragonsong sounds as if it's a title?"
"It is." Aran answered, though she didn't expand upon it much to Ozpin's disappointment.
"Then let us move on to what's to happen with you. What were you three doing in the forest?"
Y'Shtola crossed her arms. "We were lost. In fact, we had no idea where we were to begin with. We were whisked away into the forest after an orb of aether formed and dragged us into it. I speak for all of us when I say that we are, in fact, still rather lost."
Ozpin raised an eyebrow.
"Lost, you say? Would you be able to tell me of your home village? There could be several along the borderlands that may not recognize the common names for the Kingdoms. I happen to know of most of them in my effort to keep them safe and supplied."
Y'Shtola shook her head.
"We come not from a village, but from a union of allied nations. My two companions and I found our place among the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, a group that mediates between the four city-states as both messengers from one sovereign to another, and the ones looked for to provide an unbiased opinion in an effort to move forward together. Does 'Eorzean Alliance' mean anything to you?"
Ozpin's eyes widened.
"Yes, actually, though the name bears a slight difference. There did once exist a nation of smaller cities upon the Borderlands during the Great War nearly eighty years ago called the Erzan Kingdom. It remained neutral during the war, understandably so, due to both its remote location and difficulties with the Grimm. None travelled to Erza, for the simple fact that it turned away visitors, even merchants. Communications were always scarce at the best of times due to a written language barrier, and none to my knowledge took it upon themselves to learn ours or theirs. The first we knew of its fall was after the Great War, when older Grimm began migrating down from the Borderlands through the areas that Erza once occupied. Before, the Erzans had always killed or otherwise stopped them, but it seems the negative emotions from the Great War in the southern nations led to their downfall. And for that, every Kingdom has made an effort to try and find any survivors to provide a new home. Until now, I don't believe any survivors had been found."
Y'Shtola's eyes widened as she looked at Aran.
"Though I must say," the Headmaster continued, "that I've never heard of the term 'aether'. But I have an idea on this." Ozpin opened one of his drawers and withdrew a blue crystal, causing the Eorzeans' eyes to widen.
"Aetherite?" They all asked at once. Ozpin smiled as he walked around the desk to hand the crystal to Y'Shtola.
"We call it 'Dust', but it seems my suspicions were correct. You three hail from Erza, which explains your confidence in handling the Grimm. It also explains the accent that Aran tries to hide. Which leaves me with two questions. How did you get here, forward through time if you recall when your land still existed?"
Y'Shtola handed the crystal off to Ryne, who simply handed it to Aran. The youngest woman apparently didn't have much interest in the crystal itself.
"The aether we were using was rather… unique. And dangerous. If anyone besides Aran were to have handled it, they would have turned into a monster akin to that of the Grimm, but of the Light instead of Dark. We call them sin eaters. Due to her innate ability to harness the Light aether, she held it as long as she could until it became too much for her to keep stable. The orb was formed by Aran in order to keep whatever damage localized, rather than rush outward in a wave of Light aether that could turn everyone into sin eaters. If I had to guess, the aether kept us in stasis as it flowed through the world until it finally dissipated enough to deposit us into the forest. It wouldn't be the first time I've been stuck within the aetherial Lifestream, though it will have been the first that I've come out of it without the aid of others."
The Headmaster didn't answer immediately, opting instead to take a drink from his mug before he sat down in his chair, cane placed upon the desk while he steepled his fingers.
"As sound an explanation as any, for now. If I may, you three look young enough to be attending my school. Despite this, I feel that your ages are perhaps greater."
Y'Shtola stepped back, allowing for Aran to speak.
"Asking a woman for her age is something you should never do, Ozpin."
"Technically speaking, he didn't ask." Y'Shtola stated. Aran rolled her eyes.
"True enough. My answer is that Y'Shtola and I are never too old to learn, if this conversation is going where I believe it to be. Ryne?"
"I've just reached my sixteenth summer."
Ozpin opened another drawer, withdrawing a scroll and turning it on. He navigated its interface for a moment, then placed it on his desk as he looked to the newcomers.
"In that case, I would offer you three, Aran Vinland, Y'Shtola Ruhl, and Ryne Waters, an option to move forward from where you currently stand. With your language barrier, written forms will do you no good, but recorded spoken forms should do just fine. Would you like to join my Academy as students, insofar as until you decide upon a path to follow for your futures?"
All three answered. After all, it was a better offer than they could find elsewhere.