We made our way back to where Blake was. A lot of people had cleared out by then. If I had to guess, and I was a champion at guessing, at least half of the attendees had left by the time we returned. That figure included the people I actually cared about like Jaune and Pyrrha. The field seemed so much emptier and it was clear that the party was drawing to a close. The main event was coming and we all braced for Tyrian's announcement. Before that though, we had to explain the situation to Blake. I had convinced her that Tyrian was an evil mastermind just a few hours earlier. Trying to completely change her thinking on the matter would be a challenge. Sure, he may well have been an evil mastermind, but the information that I could extract from him granted Tyrian the title of friend, at least for now. Blake raised her weapon when she saw us with Tyrian. Her weapon of choice was a pistol with a blade affixed to the slide. The long black slice of metal stretched for several feet and was bolstered by the thing's sheath, which only added to the width of the blade. She called it Gambol Shroud and I couldn't help but feel a little bit of excitement every time she drew it from its sheath.

Blake looked ferocious. Fearing that we had been deceived, or some other like anomaly, she said, "What is he doing here?"

"Blake! Trust me! He's okay,"

"Do you have any reason why I should?"

"What?"

"Why should I trust him?"

"Because your captain, whom you love and trust, is telling you that he is a man of outstanding character," I patted Tyrian on the shoulder a few times for emphasis, "So, please, calm down and talk with us because there's a lot to discuss,"

"I don't believe it for a second," Blake spat, "How do I know that he hasn't played some kind of trick on you?"

"You can't," I admitted, "Your only option is to trust us, to trust our judgment. Look me in the eyes, Blake. Tell me that these are the eyes of a liar." Her hair swayed a bit in the night's wind and her eyes tracked me. Blake drew closer to me. For a second I considered pushing her away. However, I realized that establishing distance between the two of us that way would only create barriers. I knew how close I would allow her to get and she was still well within that allowance.

"Ruby, please speak plainly to me. No more games and none of your tricks. What happened? Has he done anything, in earnest, to make you change your mind? What's actually happening here?" Blake asked. That made me hesitate. I never liked lying to Blake, mostly because it seemed like she always knew when I was lying. However, the moment necessitated lying. Or rather the situation asked me to stretch the truth. The only thing that Tyrian had done was give me an inkling as to where my mother might be. I had no reason to believe that he was a good person. My only belief about him at the time was that I could extract information from him. If anything, I was the most dangerous thing to Tyrian. Once he had told me what I wanted to know he wouldn't be safe from me. Nevertheless, I couldn't say that to Blake, Yang, or Tyrian. The situation necessitated a pretty lie. So, I told her,

"I overheard him and my sister talking in the woods and learned a few things. He wasn't trying to use the play to cover up an assassination, he just happens to love theatre like the rest of them. He never wanted to hurt anyone!"

"But how could you possibly know that, Ruby?"

"I know because he's honest and kind. The only reason I'm here is because he and Yang thought that it would be good for me to go outside and do something other than fight purse-snatchers. And how did I react? I lost my damned mind and thought it best to conspire against him. It split up our team, made Weiss go home, and ruined everyone's night! I did that! It was all me, Blake! I'm sorry to tell you this, but I was wrong," I lowered my head and the red hood I wore hung low. My face was hidden entirely so nobody could decipher my visage for hints of my true feelings, and thank god for that. I had woven such a preposterous lie: seeing Tyrian's better nature, being grateful for getting dragged to a party I hated, feeling sorry about accusing him; all of it was a ruse. My relationship with Blake made her more likely to believe it as well. She hadn't grown up with me like Yang so she didn't know how well I could lie when it mattered. I had even managed to fool Yang on a few occasions. It was only natural that a hunter would be a remarkable liar. Most of the heroes of antiquity overcame challenges not through brawn, but by their cunning. Based on the stories of her heroism I had heard growing up, my mother was much the same.

"Alright. If it's on your word, Ruby, then I won't ask too many questions," She tilted her head to the right, "Though I would like to have a word with him…"

"Ask away," He replied.

"How many murderers would you say are in your troupe?"

"That's an awfully loaded question,"

"I'll take a simple answer then! Are there murderers amoung The Brothers, yes or no?"

"No."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Next question then! What are you getting out of all of this? " She asked, glancing back at the massive wooden statue of the owl with a man's head. Its pained expression only added to her confusion, Blake seemed ever so slightly pensive when she looked our way again, and it was almost as if she had seen this all before. An eerily familiar situation for her maybe?

"I wanted nothing more than to engage in a bit of collaborative storytelling with my friends," He paused, "You are my friend aren't you, ?"

"Rest assured the last thing I want to accumulate from my time at Beacon is an excess of friends. If our captain says you're alright then I won't argue with her decision, but don't push your luck, bug."

"Oh, don't worry I'll be crawling out of your hair very soon. I'm off to announce the last act. Fare thee well, my precocious little pussy!" Tyrian flew off somewhere and Blake was mad. Both Yang and I had to hold her back from bounding after Tyrian. As we wrestled her down she shouted a high and nasally,

"NNNNNNNYYA!" She squirmed, "Him! Is it really him? Of all the people, Ruby, why him? I can't understand it for the life of me!" She had begun to settle down, a bit of shouting must have gotten it all out of her. The combined weight of my sister and I on top of her must have drained Blake as well. We let her go and the three of us sat on the ground in silence. I was breathing heavily and responded to her question with this,

"Call it girlish love, or Fall's affection perhaps. There were a lot of things that influenced my choices. I can't pin down just one,"

"What are you saying, Ruby? Do you hear yourself?"

"Listen, every bad thing that happened tonight happened because I was dishonest with myself and everyone else around me. I hid my feelings and now it's time to tell the truth," The next part I struggled to say, "When he fell from the statue and began to fly my heart started to flutter. He glided over us and I saw him smile and that was it. I couldn't help myself. I had never felt that way before and didn't know how to handle it. So, I lied to all of you. Trying to bury my feelings with hate didn't do any good though. Blake, Yang… I'm so sorry… for all the trouble I've caused you," it hurt talking about Tyrian like that, truly it did, but I had to work a bit to sell the lie. Yang gave me one of her infamously tight hugs when I finished speaking.

"Ruby's in love!" she teased, in a sing-songy way.

"I know how you feel, Ruby," Blake stood up and patted me on the head, "but be careful. I was in love once too, with a man who I thought was everything I ever wanted. Everyday he would write me such wonderful poems about all manner of things. He painted my heart with his words. Then one day it all stopped, he wiped away all the vibrant colors, and left me; cold, broken, and alone. Don't be like me, Ruby. Don't let a man become the sole owner of your entire being," Blake started to walk away from us after saying that. I had so many questions.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Home," She pulled out her pocket watch and gave it a look, "It's almost dawn." Blake dissipated into a shadow and faded into the night. I always loved when she did that, such unrestrained swagger.

"She can't just walk like a normal person?" Yang asked, facetious.

"It wouldn't be Blake if she did," I told her. Yang went on to start teasing me about the Tyrian situation again. I just laughed along with her.

Her jokes were interrupted when the wooden owl erupted in flame. Tyrian descended down from above. Silhouetted against the fire, he cut a rather eerie image. He certainly wasn't making it easy to vouch for him.

"Brothers! I have found the man that killed your king! He resides at the top of Vale Tower in the heart of Beacon. Lands and titles are to go to the first person who brings me his head!" He announced, flying off into the night. The Brothers cheered and they all made off in the direction of Beacon Academy: some leaped through the trees, some vaulted themselves long distances from the recoil of their oversized rifles, and others still chose to focus their aura in order to move at breakneck speeds.

"I guess we're off," Yang grinned.

"Seems like it!" I shot off into the forest. Morphing into a cloud of rose petals had several advantages. For one, it was next to impossible for any obstacle to stand in my path seeing as I was no longer one solid entity. When I embraced the rose my amorphous form could easily split and shift around whatever was in front of me. So, there I was bending, splitting, and weaving through the tree trunks. Cutting past several of the brothers, I flew. How simple, I thought. How could it be so easy, I thought. None of them could match me. I was simply too fast. I had passed no less than 30 of them by then, but something changed. In the distance, several yards behind, I heard a loud crashing. The sound of metal meeting metal. That familiar symphony echoed for hundreds of feet. Whatsmore, it soon picked up in tempo. I moved quickly, but it inevitably caught up to me. That sound, that echoing clang of metal and gunshots, was coming from Yang.

Her weapon of choice was a pair of bracelets that would fold out and cover her hands, transforming into powerful golden gauntlets on her command. Yang had mastered several martial arts by the time she was admitted into Beacon, owing to the fact that she had begun her tutelage around the tinder age of five. Our father, Taiyang Xiao Long, was a genius as far as physical acumen was concerned. He only needed to observe a motion once before being able to copy it. Oftentimes, his opponents would be baffled by this, swearing that he had been possessed by a demon or some wandering avatar of the masked god; somehow still leftover from The Sundering. No, his powers were not supernatural, at least not as far as either of us knew, but rather his skills were the result of raw talent sharpened to a fine point. And, rest assured, he passed that same refining process down to my sister. Yang's weapons would fire brutal slug rounds whenever she threw a punch. Normally, she would anchor her feet to the ground in order to mitigate the directional force that the recoil of her savage weapon would apply to her. However, in times when the situation called for it, she would jump a bit when she punched. That would propel her into the air with immense force. I had seen her clear entire valleys with that very technique in the past. Granted, leaping one great distance and moving through a clutter of debris were two very different things, but, even still, I had great respect for her ability to move even in a place like this.

She soon flew past me. "Hi there, Rosebud!," She punched the ground and flew up high, "Hope you don't have any problem with second place!" Yang's words drifted off as her punches created more and more distance between her and I. What an oppressive strategy! I would expect nothing less from my dear sister. Though there was a fatal flaw in her strategy, I observed.

When she created her momentum by punching, the initial burst of speed would send her in the opposite direction she was facing. After all, how could one punch behind them? She would have to propel herself forward for quite some time before being able to safely turn herself around. Using this method of flight effectively required two very precise skills. First, one must have an outstanding sense of situational awareness in order to keep a clear log of what the world outside of their immediate vision looked like. And second, it was imperative that one have an intuitive understanding of the trajectory the weapon would launch them. The first part was fostered through training that wasn't specific to the weapon itself. The second though was born out of extensive trial and error. The fact that Yang had managed to master the use of such a weapon and still remain in one piece was a testament to her genius as a fighter. Nevertheless, there was still the issue of turning around.

Yang would have to stop flying and allow herself to fall for a bit, and flip in the air, before turning around. Typically she chose to forgo this, opting instead to land backwards, but something told me that she wouldn't dare attempt such a stunt tonight. Vale Tower was a gargantuan structure and stood nearly 2000 feet high in the center of campus. Its height was such that one could watch the sunset from the ground and then watch it again from the top of the tower. The top ended in a spire and left little room for anyone to stand. Yang would have to be careful not to not to slip. Thus, it was more than likely that she would try and land forward, with her body positioned toward the tower.

I could never beat her in a proper race, all things considered, so I decided to instead latch onto her when she slowed down to change directions. The plan was to begin the second I saw her start to slow down. I had maybe 5 seconds, at most.

"AAAAAGH!" One of The Brothers screamed as my roses passed over him. That was the last of the runners in front of me. I had outpaced the rest of the competition a while ago. The edge of the forest came and went. I burst through the treeline and uprooted some of the old oaks. Above me something flashed in the sky. In the dim light of dawn's prelude, I saw muzzle flashes. They flared in the sky with a familiar clang. It was none other than Yang, still hurling herself through the air. She was closer to me than I expected. I was running out of time, that was for sure. My semblance required expending a large amount of aura. Using it for too long would bleed me dry. At my best, I could embrace the rose for a few minutes, no more than nine or ten. I was quickly approaching that limit. My movement became less fluid, the petals sparse. There was only one option. My plan's timetable would have to be moved forward significantly.

It was then that I decided to burn through my remaining aura in one dramatic showing. With what little I had left I pushed through the city streets. As I increased my pace, so did Yang. The echo of her punches increased at a furious clip. Then suddenly they stopped. I saw her start to fall and flip in the air. The motion was so familiar to her. In that moment she seemed to me more like an eagle, as she dove through the air.

That was my chance. I soared to her height, recalled my roses, and caught her in the air. My arms wrapped tight around her waist as we fell, I said;

"It's over Yang! I've got you now! You can't beat me if we cross the finish line at the same time!" But all she did was smile. We started to fall further, faster. "What are you doing? Start flying!" I shouted, begging. That was when she started to laugh. It was like she didn't even care. "Yang, Please. I can't fly anymore, you have to get us moving!"

The ground was fast approaching, but my sister only continued to laugh. I wasn't sure what she was getting at. Did she think I was bluffing? I wasn't! I couldn't fly anymore and I didn't know what to do. The wind screamed as we fell. The sound filled my ear and curdled my thoughts. It was then that I decided to do something rather bold, I stopped thinking.

Though my aura had been completely exhausted I begged myself to become more. I prayed for more strength and felt tears welling up from the root of my soul. From the base of my very being, salty tears flowed and soon I couldn't hold them back. I cried tears so hot and bitter that they burned my face as they fell. Dissipating into gleaming steam, they obscured my view and nearly blinded me. It was then that I began to see something phenomenal. I closed my eyes and saw the vivid colors of other people's auras. First I saw scarlets and deep violet hues sporadically filling my vision. Then, once those colors had left me, I saw four shades: Silver, gold, purple, and then finally a pale blue that was soft as the morning. After that I saw a soothing shade of alabaster; I thought I might have already splattered against the ground and already been dead, but I could still hear the wind. When I opened my eyes there was nothing but a bright white light that consumed the whole of my vision. Though I could not see, I did not feel blind. I found the strength to use my semblance once more. We landed gently on a rooftop and golden rose petals littered the tiles.

"I didn't know you could take people with you when you do that," Yang sprawled out on the ground as I lay there beside her, desperately panting for air, "Still, I have to say it's a weird feeling. Can't imagine how you feel comfortable using that as often as you do."

"You've gone mad haven't you? Right and properly mad!" I stumbled to my feet, "What would you have done if I didn't stop us from falling?"

"But you did. And that's all that matters," Yang sat up and I startled to wobble. She caught me before I could fall, "Easy there," She said. Yang wiped a stray tear off of my face and when I saw it on her hand it gleamed like polished metal. "Silver tears… I've never seen anything like it," She said, astonished.

"Has that been coming out my eyes the entire time?" I asked, only to have my question answered by a cursory glance at Yang's coat. Parts of it were stained with tears and those wet spots sparkled with glittery glints.

"That's so strange. Are you alright?" She asked, concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine, just worried is all. I can't say I know too many girls who cry silver tears,"

"Not too many girls have silver eyes…"

"You don't think the two are related do you?"

"Honestly, Ruby, I'm not thinking much of anything right now. I'm just glad you're safe. You started glowing back there, you know?"

"Really?"

"Yup. Your eyes were as bright as the sun. I couldn't even look at you. The light was so bright that I even saw it when I shut my eyes. It was something else," She grinned. Clearly something had awoken inside of me and, ostensibly, it was benevolent. Not only did I manage to use my semblance without expending any aura, but it also seemed to have become much stronger, more robust. Silver tears, glowing eyes, and something resembling true magic; it was like a story out of an old book of fairytales. Yang and I spent some time speculating, but neither of us could come up with any satisfying answer. Whatever happened back there couldn't have just been caused by my proximity to danger. My life had been in imminent danger a few times in the past, but nothing like that ever happened before. Then I started to realize something. There was something that was present now that was not back then.

Once in my youth I had my eye on one of Yang's rifles. At the time I was ten and she was around the age of twelve. By then Yang had already learned how to shoot and fight, she was quite good at it too. Our father would take her hunting with him on a few occasions and he always looked so proud whenever she managed to bag anything, however small. I decided to try my hand at it myself just to get his eyes on me. So, in the night I snuck away with her blunderbuss, a monster of a thing that fired a wall of hot pellets. It was almost as tall as I was and the rounds it loaded were the size of my eye. Under the cover of dark I slipped away with it into the thicket near our home and found a turkey, away from the rest of its flock. That was my chance, I thought. What a foolish bird I thought. It all seemed so easy. I had the gun ready. Taking deadly aim, I fired into disaster. The gun malfunctioned and fire spewed out the back. It burned my right hand and some of my hair. I don't think I'll ever forget that sickly smell of burning hair. For that matter, the force of the blunderbuss had knocked me on my back. Even still, I stifled my cries and swallowed my tears. I somehow managed to carry myself back home and put the rifle back in its place before anyone woke up. Though when my father rose that same morning he saw the burns on my hair and hands. Despite my best efforts he saw through my lies and was furious. Silver eyes didn't help me then.

Again, in the past, I had tried to ride Yang's horse without her knowing. That white stallion kicked harder than any gun and when he threw me off of him I nearly died. My skull was broken in four places, my shoulder out of socket. I was twelve and I felt that my life was about to come to an end. My silver eyes did nothing for me then.

I remember fighting a shade once. It was a small facsimile of a grimm, barely tangible. Though it wouldn't have been a threat to a true hunter, it posed a problem to a girl as young as myself at the time. Nevertheless, I tried to fight it and it nearly took my life. Silver eyes did nothing for me.

The difference between those times and what had just happened was this; before I had never met another person with silver eyes, Tyrian was the difference. It seemed that meeting him tonight had awakened something in me and caused all of this to happen. The color of his eyes were no coincidence. He had silver eyes like the heroes in the old stories, but Tyrian was no hero. He was a twisted, wicked little creature with a nefarious air about him. Although if being around Tyrian made me stronger, that was a pity for him. I will continue to pursue him for answers without rest. Me, Tyrian, and my mother, Summer Rose. We all had silver eyes and we were all somehow connected, perhaps by blood, though not in the way one might think. The blood that connected us must be none other than the blood of my mother which he wrongly spilled. He would see justice in due time.

While Yang and I were on the roof we saw him flying high above. He coasted to the top of Vale Tower and though it was hard to make out I could swear I saw him take a bow when he landed. "I guess the race is over," Yang put her hands on her hips. The sun had risen and the morning had come. I can't believe we spent the entire night doing all this. "Guess it's time to go home. Damn… I really thought I was gonna win that one, too,"

"How could anyone else win when Tyrian can fly?" I chided.

"Who knows maybe next time it'll be one of us on top of the tower, or whatever the hell kind of building he wants us to climb next."

"Right…"

"Time for bed?"

"Time for bed."