Weiss' head was killing her.

Out of all the things she woke up to, the throbbing headache she had was the first thing she noticed and it was bad. Yang had told her what it was like when she drank too much and woke up the next day, and right now the heiress thought it must have been like this. It didn't help that she had a high pitched ringing in her ears that only now as she groaned was beginning to quieten down.

The noise she made drew the attention of someone.

"Weiss!" a familiar voice cried. "Are you okay?!"

"R-ruby," she heard herself whimper. "Please be quiet… my head feels like it's going to explode."

"O-oh! Sorry." Ruby apologised, her voice lowering to a low whisper.

Weiss took a moment to centre herself, and after a moment opened her eyes. She only managed a squint as a bright light shone into her eyes.

A fire. It was the only light in the night other than the moon, though even that was hidden by dark clouds above. It was a small clearing, beside a pond. They were camping again?

Again? Wait a minute…

Weiss' eyes widened. "Team JNPR!? What happened to-"

"In their own tents." Ruby answered gently, motioning with her head to one side of the camp where tents were lined up and zipped closed tight. "They were all exhausted as the rest of us. Right now I'm the only one up."

"Asleep." She repeated, swallowing. "So… you've managed to… work something out with them?"

"Kind of…" Ruby spoke slowly. "Weiss… you didn't answer before but, are you… okay?"

Why was she asking? No, of course she knew why she was asking, they'd just fought team JNPP and Weiss could barely remember any of it. She couldn't remember how it had ended but her she was waking up with a pumping headache. She must have taken a hit or something. Something must have happened between that.

Speaking of.

"I am but… what are you wearing?"

Ruby blinked and looked down at herself. "Oh, this?"

'Yes, obviously that' Weiss felt like saying, but held it back, instead letting her eyes roam up and down her partners form.

The military looking coat from before was gone, as was her metal bracer and pretty much everything else. All that remained the same was her cloak, something that she doubted would have changed anyway.

Instead, Ruby was dressed all in black, grey and some sort of blood-red crystal pattern. They lined all the way up and down her torso, arms and legs, expanding at the shins and wrists. It kind of looked like Dust actually, weaved into the clothing. To be honest it made Ruby look like some sort of vigilante superhero, bar a mask.

"I guess you could call it my more combat orientated outfit." The younger girl said. "Cinder made it for me. I guess it looks kind of like her own stealth suit but uh, more covered up. You like it?"

The fact that Cinder had made it for her? No. The fact that it looked good on Ruby?

Very much so.

The fact that Weiss could just make out that Ruby was still wearing a corset underneath filled her mind with possibilities.

"How repugnant."

"Gah!" Weiss choked, as a lance of pain shot through her head.

"Weiss?" Ruby leaned in, unaware of her thought process or the pain she'd just felt. "What's wrong?"

"I-I-" she didn't know. It had come out of nowhere. Through the throbbing in her head, Weiss' eyes flickered down. "What… what am I wearing?"

Because it definitely wasn't what she'd had on before:

It was a long robe of some kind, tightly wrapped around her body with a strange grey material and a tabard draped across the front and most likely back. There were some strange white symbols on it she didn't understand, and those lines were present of the frills of her sleeves as well.

"I'm not exactly sure." Ruby said. "You… just sort of had them on when everything… calmed down."

"I look like some kind of fantasy mage," she frowned, "Like the ones in those games you and Yang play."

"Heh, I guess so. So you don't know where it came from?"

"Of course not." Weiss scowled, shaking her head. "My guess is that you clearly do however."

"…"

The heiress looked up. "Ruby… those things Jaune said… about you… working for Ozpin. It's more complicated than that I'm sure but… it's true isn't it? You were hiding things from us at Beacon."

Ruby bit her lip. "I… was."

Weiss' felt herself deflate. "You kept… thinks from me."

"I… did."

She swallowed. "And you don't want to tell me anything, even now."

"Weiss it's-" The reaper let out a low growl. "This is more than just school drama or team troubles, this-this is bigger than the White Fang or some terrorists blowing up a school. It's so, so much bigger than that."

"And yet I know none of it." Weiss muttered bitterly. "I'm here, you brought me along, and yet you tell me nothing. I think that's telling, on just how much you trust me."

Ruby's silver eyes shot but dangerously. "Weiss." She hissed. "This- you don't know the story."

"Yes," she agreed. "I don't, and who's fault is that?"

"…"

No response, Weiss sighed. What had she been expecting? This was all just too much at the moment. She needed time to think this over, what exactly was happening with-

"I want to tell you."

She stopped.

"What? She blinked, turning back to Ruby.

Her… partner, had a look in her eye, one she couldn't quite place.

"I want to tell you, explain everything. I was planning to but I thought I'd have more time, a better opportunity once we were somewhere where the two of us could just… sit down alone." She growled. "That's not going to work anymore. Especially now?"

"Especially?"

"Weiss." Ruby met her eyes again. "What did you put into your body?"

And at once, Weiss felt her blood run cold. "You… what?"

"What," she repeats. "Did you put in your body? Do you even know what it is? What were you thinking when you made contact with it?"

Weiss felt her eyes widen. "You… you know what it is?"

"…yes."

'Oh? The Oathbreaker is aware of more than I thought.'

That blinding pain shot through her again, so suddenly she gasped, clutching the side of her head as that voice echoes through her.

And the memories.

Fully returned.

And she remembered who she'd almost killed.

She remembered how she'd done everything in her will to stop it.

In in the side of her vision, she saw something, something in the pond.

A face.

Her face.

With eyes black as night and orbs of ice.

"I-"

"Ruby."

They two girls jumped at the new voice, and turned to it.

Cinder stood with her arms crossed, and a look on her face Wiess couldn't decipher.

Ruby's eyes flickered. "Cinder… what is it?"

"I need to speak to you. Privately."

"I'm… kind of in the middle of something."

"I am aware. It is in regards to that, and something else. Once we are finished you can explain to the heiress just what exactly the situation is."

Weiss felt her temper flare as she glared up at the older woman. "Excuse me? You can't just dismiss me like that?"

Gold flickered towards her. "And why not?"

"W-what?"

"Why can't I dismiss you? So far, you've been nothing but trouble. You are well aware that I vetoed against you being here. Why are you surprised?"

She had no answer for that.

Ruby sent the older woman a warning look, but eventually, she sighed. "Weiss, give me five minutes. I'll… I'll give you answers after that."

"…Fine." She muttered, turning away and trying to ignore the throbbing that returned to her.

She head Ruby stand, and two pairs of footsteps walk away.

It left her alone.

'Not alone, never such.'

"Stop!" Weiss ground out. "Stop talking. You- my head feels as if it's about to explode."

A pause.

"Come closer to the water."

"No." She growled. "Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you. No after what you tried to do to Ruby."

"You mean protect you from a pawn of the Deceiver?"

The hiss that escaped her was sharp. She wanted nothing more than to dig her fingers into her brain and pull the voice out of her skull. "Protection? That's what you call taking over my body?"

"An unintentional act on my part," The voice told her, a levity in its tone despite how it rocked inside her head. "I could explain it to you, however as you said, it pains you to hear me. That could stop, if you but approach the water."

Weiss grit her teeth, but seeing it as her only option to make the pain stop at the moment, crawled over to the pond, right on the edge, close enough to peer down and see her reflection

Or what should have been her reflection.

Her own face looked back at her, but with those eyes, and an expression of calm she didn't wear, she knew this wasn't hers.

It was the same thing she'd seen… in the mirror, when everything broke.

Except now, it looked more solid. More tangible.

Black crystals spread across her skin form her scar.

"What are you?"

"One moment-" The creature spoke, and suddenly, it was as if a great pressure had lifted from behind Weiss' eyes. "Tell me, does it hurt now?"

No, it didn't, but Weiss didn't really want to confirm it either way. She didn't want to talk to this… thing.

"I'm assuming by your scowl that it has been rectified. Pardon my mistake, it is difficult restraining my connection to you so early on without a… well, connection."

"You haven't answered my question." Weiss hissed. "What. Are. You."

"Hm…" her reflection, Surtr hummed. "I know not the term used in your tongue, forgive me, but it is still somewhat new to me and you don't have a term for it within your own mind. In my time, I was one of the Døkkálfar."

The what?

"Like I said," Surtr smirked, reading her thoughts, or, maybe hearing them. "You do not have a translation for it within your personal vocabulary."

Weiss reared back. "You're reading my mind!?"

"But if course," Her reflection said, looking surprised. "I am within the depth of your soul. You still have a few barriers I cannot pass at the moment that make it difficult to take a look into the complexities of your mind, but as we become more comfortable with each other's presence they shouldn't be an issue."

Comfortable with each other? She must have been joking.

"I assure you I am not."

"Stop that!" Weiss hissed. "Stop looking into my head!"

"Considering we share one space, as I said, that is rather difficult. However if you ask for some privacy at times I can try and grant it my Vessel."

Weiss took a long breath, trying to push down on the anger building in her. "What do you want with me?"

"From you? Nothing."

"You can't expect me to believe that."

"It is the truth," Surtr told her, leaning back. It was disorientating, considering there was nothing behind her in the reflection to lean on, yet she did it as if there was. "All I wish is for your safety, as was agreed upon."

Weiss glared at her. "I agreed to nothing with you."

"You did not, no, but your family did."

She stilled. "What… what are you talking about?"

"It was long ago, were you not told as a child?... no, by the look of it you were not. How strange, concerning even. One would think that the Pact would be passed down upon the heirs of the bloodline."

Weiss felt air pass through her clenched teeth. "Speak sense!" she ordered.

"It's really rather simple my Vessel. I have but the wish to uphold the Pact, and in doing that, keep you safe from harm. I can see you are confused." She tutted disappointedly. "Honestly, to think that the Schnee family would let their inheritance fall into obscurity."

"You're lying." Weiss growled. "I'd know if something like you existed in our family."

Surtr laughed, actually laughed, and covered her mouth with one hand before smiling at the snow-haired huntress.

"Come now girl, surely you must have questioned it."

"I don't-"

"Did you never wonder why on all of Remnant, your Semblance is the only one that is hereditary?"

For the second time, Weiss went cold.

"Not to mention all sheer number of uses for it. Physical barriers, gravity and prolusion, Dust manipulation, time dilation, summoning visions of defeated foes? Tell me you did not believe all of that to be the work of a single semblance."

"N-no," Weiss shook her head, not sure if she was answering the creature in front of her or denying it. "You're wrong. You're trying to trick me."

"I would not lie to you Vessel. I am unlike that Skal of a girl, the one who follows Ozma."

The heiress glared.

"Leave Ruby out of this. I won't let you hurt her."

"Vessel…" she sighed, as if she were putting up with a petulant child. Weiss temper spiked.

"You tried to kill her already. I stopped you. I won't let you even get close a second time."

"You would trust her? After she lied to you?"

"She hasn't-"

"Omitting the truth when it affects your life is deceptive. She has kept secrets from you that impact such things. She is a danger to you. A threat."

"She is my friend!"

"You wish for her to be more than that."

Weiss recoiled, staring at Surtr in shock. "W-what did you say?"

The apparition rolled her eyes. "Come now Vessel. I said I share a mind with you, do you think I am not aware of your… feeling towards the oathbreaker? You wish to court her." Surtr made a noise of disgust. "I do not see the appeal, especially regarding her, but it seems you're going through a phase of sorts. Children are always like that."

"I don't-"

"Nicholas was the same I suppose, in his own ways."

Weiss stopped. "You… knew my grandfather?"

"Of course," She smirked. "How do you think such a man came upon a treasure-trove of Dust that made him rich beyond his imagination?"

"You spoke to him? He knew about you?"

"Not in the way you do now, no. I… guided him, in a way."

"…"

Her reflection chuckled. "I can sense your turmoil. It must be very overwhelming, to have all of this thrown upon you and for no one to explain it."

The jab at Ruby was an obvious one, but even as Weiss scowled, there was hesitation. Surtr noticed, and her smile grew.

"Would you like me to explain it to you?"

Weiss paused and bit her lip. She looked around. There was no one around to notice her speaking to her reflection. "Explain what?"

"Everything."

…

…

The sun was setting.

It wasn't a unique thing, the sunset every day. It shouldn't have been something to think about, shouldn't have been something to give pause.

Though, but this high on the mountain top, with the soft winds breeze and last rays of light that spilt past the range onto Mistral, it was a sight that did just that for Adam Taurus.

The red-haired man leaned lazily again the railings of a balcony overlooking the edge of a cliff.

It was funny, he mused, to think that if people knew he was up here, many would hope he'd fall to his death.

He'd thought about it himself, once or twice.

A fleeting idea to be sure, but there, all the same.

Adam let out a breath, watching it fog slightly in the mountain air.

He was curious sometimes, just how many people despised him, spat out his name in curses or loathed his very existence.

There were bound to be many, especially here in Mistral.

The concerning of Haven had been mostly bloodless, but the aftermath, of rising Fauns social status had embittered many. Humans who hated their race to begin with, those who had supported the old – now defunct – council, and even those who might once have been neutral, but had now been pushed to one side over the other.

It was unfortunate that such things were necessary, the fact that they had to take over a place dedicated to defending all races from the Grimm in order to finally push forward, to be taken truly seriously not just as Terrorists, but as a legitimate force to be reckoned with.

Adam has once broached the question in his younger years, what would happen if the White Fang was an actual threat? Would people take their cries for equality seriously? Would they change laws and legislation to appease them? To keep peace?

Ghira has been against it, saying that violence would move them not a single step further to their goals.

Sienna had been interested when it was her turn. When she had become the high leader she had pushed for militancy, for strength and freedom.

She had not pushed far enough. When the true risks came, of taking the chance of finally making themselves legitimate in the eyes of not just Atlas, but the entire world, she had pulled back, content on holding the line and believing that it would be enough to change minds, to win them their futures.

She had been wrong.

Blake, before her betrayal, had seen it. She had agreed with him, that something more had to be done. She had bloodied her hands, alongside him for a chance at a beautiful world where the Faunus would no longer fear subjugation, hatred or oppression.

Adam felt his hands grip the railings a little too hard, and his knuckles were no doubt white under his gloves.

He took a breath, calming his temper.

The pain of her abandonment still stung. It ached at his chest in moments of peace. Twisted his heart in agony.

But not as much as it had.

Looking back on it, he understood why Blake had left.

She was a coward, yes, but she had also been better than him.

She was a good person.

They had both understood that in order to accomplish what no one else would, you had to become a monster.

And good people couldn't co-exist with monsters.

One day too many, one push too far. That had been what it took for Blake to see him for what he had become.

And it had terrified her.

So she ran.

In the beginning, her flight had filled him with rage. A white-hot, blazing rage that lit a spark in his soul.

For revenge.

To make her pay, and all those around her.

He'd wanted to make her suffer, not just for leaving him, but for turning her back on their cause, for the years they'd spent together shedding blood, sweat and tears to chase a dream.

He'd hated her for it, and wanted her to feel retribution.

And then, at Beacon.

He'd seen her.

A poor, sickly creature, on the edges of insanity, grovelling in the dirt, at his feet.

Adam had felt no satisfaction, and that had wrought his fury.

Again she'd taken something from him, the feeling he'd deserved for what she'd done.

She deserved to feel the way she did, and he deserved to revel in it.

Instead, he'd felt only a twisted sort of pity for his old love.

She'd escaped, with the help of that woman in red, and the girl wreathed in flames.

Adam closed his eyes, and took off his mask as he thought back to that girl.

His spies had told him of her name.

Yang Xiao-Long, now known as Yang Branwen.

She was making headway, not only in Vale, but here too in Mistral, as she had been for the last year.

He'd thought of hunting her down, finishing what he'd started with her.

He had decided against it.

She had taken his place, he had seen it. She felt how he had about Blake once before. The girl had been prepared to kill him to protect the woman he had loved once.

It was admirable, in truth, but sad too.

She would know the same feeling he had, of her betrayal. Perhaps she already did.

Was that kinship? Most likely not. They were enemies at the end of the day, and he had no use for sentimentality.

But she was helping.

Hunting down monsters that his own men were incapable of dealing with. She aided Humans yes, as he had expected, but also Faunus, those downtrodden and in need of saving, something his own forces could not provide lest they leave themselves open to attack by the populace that wanted to drive them out.

She was doing good, and staying away from his own plans.

It would likely not last, but for the time being, it was enough for him to leave her be.

He had heard whispers from his men though.

That she had returned recently.

With Blake.

No… he pushed down on that feeling. That heat that built in his chest and told him to rage.

He was past that.

He felt nothing like he had once before.

Blake had moved on, as had he.

She had turned her back on him, and the White Fang, but she had not given up.

If she had, she wouldn't have become a Huntress. She wouldn't have risked her life to fight Grimm, or save people. In her own way, she might have sought to redeem herself. Not to wash her hands of blood, but to make things right and fix her mistakes in a way she knew how.

For that, he had to respect Blake. As much as he didn't want to.

Almost two years since she'd left him, and in that time, both of them had changed. It was clear neither of them were the same people they had once been.

It led to the question though, why was he thinking of her? Now of all times?

It could be because of this… Avatar connection they shared, the one he had learnt about from… the witch.

To think, that even destiny had put them together…

And to think that it was destined to fail from the very beginning, that he would be the villain in her story.

Adam let go of the railing.

It didn't matter. Destiny may have painted him in such light, but it would not do the same to the Faunus.

He had his goal. He was succeeding. He had done what no others had and taken not one, but two Huntsman academies down. And in doing so, lifted the Faunus into the spotlight where their suffering couldn't be ignored. Even if the world viewed the White Fang as evil, they would still have to consider how to prevent such a thing again. That might just mean dealing with the Faunus like people.

And all it had taken was a deal with the devil.

"What do you want?" Adam sighed. He'd heard the footsteps, and though he hadn't turned around, he knew who it was. Adam had a list of people he hated, this man was slowly climbing his way up that list.

"I… was wondering if you had heard the news." Leonardo Lionheart swallowed nervously.

Yes. There were many things Adam hated:

Schnees, Atlas, Ironwood, oppression, lies, hypocrisy, cowards, racism, the list went on.

The headmaster of Haven was a person climbing higher and higher each and every time Adam spoke to him.

He was the embodiment of many of the aforementioned.

He was a coward to be sure, and a liar, and in turning against those he had sworn to protect, and joining those he had sworn to fight, he was a hypocrite.

In the beginning, Adam had held hope for him. A Faunus Headmaster in Mistral, surely something that could make a difference.

But no. He had been nothing but a token gesture, something to quieten down the unruly and let the council carry on with their own machinations.

He had never done anything to deserve his place. He had never done anything to help.

He had been the main reason that the White Fang had conquered Haven so bloodlessly yes, but in doing so, he had just proven to the Bull Faunus how untrustworthy he really was.

He fought for no ideals, no code or future.

He lied and cheated for his own skin, and had stabbed the Huntsmen of Mistral – people that had no doubt been his own students once upon a time – in the back.

When the time came, Adam would put him down, if only to pay a little bit of respect, and give an apology to those wronged by the headmaster.

But not now. For some reason, he still was still of use to… her.

For now, he could live, if only because Adam would not bring the ire of that monster upon himself, nor his people.

Talking to him was still a loathsome activity all the same.

"And what news would that be Lionheart?"

"The- the sightings of ships to the southeast. Reports say it's an army, from Menagerie."

The third High Leader turned to face the headmaster, who looked away at the sight of his face.

Another reason for Adam to hate him.

The man was a Huntsman, and yet he couldn't bear to look at the scars that marred his face? Pathetic.

"I heard." Adam grunted, "What of it?"

"W-well I- I was wondering what your plan was. Are you…Do you… have one?"

Adam's eyes narrowed. "If you're suggesting a path of retreat, I don't have one."

"I wasn't-"

"At the moment, there isn't any need to move, Grimm or Human, both have to deal with a mountain in their path, and we both know this school is something we are not allowed to abandon. Though I question why I should tell you anything."

He knew why.

Both of them did.

Because of the witch.

Adam's hands balled into fists at the thought of her.

Calling her anything else was too much. Destroyer, demon, God. Even her name, Salem, sent chills down his spine and rooted him to the floor.

To think he would side with such a thing. If his own people knew, they might have called him insane.

Perhaps he was.

But it would be even more insane to stand against her.

Adam didn't doubt that she could and would destroy humanity.

But if he could sway her, if only just a little bit to spare the Faunus, he would sink as low as he had to.

The fact that it made him even the tiniest bit similar to Lionheart was sickening.

He scoffed at his own thoughts, turning back to the railings and leaning against them. "All you should concern yourself with is finding what she wants. Have you made any progress on that?"

The headmaster was silent for a moment. "No. The spring maiden's still a mystery… I have told her grace that I have managed to narrow it down to the surrounding regions."

"A lie."

"… it was."

And he thought she had fallen for it.

What a fool.

"You'd best hurry then." He sighed. "If she runs out of patience, you'll bring punishment down on all of us."

The idea filled him with dread. His hands sought out Wilt and Blush instinctually for comfort, yet he didn't have them on him. They were inside, being worked on by a weaponsmith.

"Why else are you here? I know it's not to ask me a single question."

He couldn't see Lionheart's face, but he could hear the trepidation in his voice.

"She… wishes to speak with you. Her grace is waiting in the chamber."

A summons.

So then, something was happening.

Something important.

Without a word to the headmaster, Adam pushed away from the railings, and made his way back inside.

Whatever it was, it was likely to be a path filled with violence.

He would need to speak to his mean, prepare them, their arsenals, and perhaps his own.

He had a feeling there would be blood.

And some of it may well be his.

…

…

Blake's eyes darted around their little group as armed strangers stared at them.

They'd made it to the camp.

Yang's faith had been rewarded by the Dryad.

The camp was a semi-permanent thing, with wooden walls as barricades and an actual gate with watchmen.

They'd almost shot them upon appearing, but one look at the green-skinned woman had them yelling orders to someone on the other side and the gates opening for them.

Now they were inside and surrounded by men and women armed to the teeth and positively radiating danger.

These were the members of the Branwen tribe?

Blake was more focused on staying with the others as they made their way through, but even at a glance she could see just how powerful each and every one of them was.

She didn't miss how they all stared at a member of their party.

No, the Dryad like she'd have thought they would. In fact, her appearance seemed normal to them, in fact, after a last farewell to them when they'd entered the camp, the Dryad actually vanished in a swirl of leaves, like she wasn't there to begin with.

No, they were staring at Yang.

They recognised her.

Or, at the very least, knew who she was.

And who her mother was.

"I'm guessing we don't want to start any trouble." Sun muttered, eyeing the weapons each bandit had slung at their waists. Swords, hammers, axes, knives, guns and a dozen and a half other weapons. The fact that they outnumbered the party of six was another factor to be sure.

How many bandits did the Branwen Tribe house exactly?

Blake didn't know, but they were rumoured to be a fearsome fighting force that combatted Huntsmen on a regular basis.

So either way, if a fight broke out, Blake wasn't sure how much she'd be able to do.

They came to an open space of sorts, and in front of them, a tent larger than the others on a slightly raised platform. Torches surrounded them lighting the otherwise dark night. The sky was filled with clouds, the moon hidden behind it.

A woman with short, brown hair, deep blue eyes and a tattoo of some sort of bird rising from flowers on her left, stood at its front with crossed arms.

She recognised her face from somewhere...

Blake narrowed her eyes.

Beacon. She remembered her from Beacon.

So this was Vernal then.

The Bandits closed in around them as they came to a stop.

Yang stepped forward and of course greeting the woman in front of her with the most tactful greeting imaginable.

"Sup."

Vernal sighed.

Blake could sympathise.

"You know, we were expecting you eventually, but right now isn't the best time."

"Yeah?" Yang yawned. "Why not? Don't look to me like you're doing anything all too exciting. What, you needed time to prepare? Set up a little welcoming party of sorts?"

"Something like that… more than you'd think actually." Vernal uncrossed her arms. "The Boss isn't exactly in the best position to talk to you right now."

"…Oh?"

Blake wasn't the only one to notice Yang's change of tone.

The bandits tensed around them.

Vernal's hands fell to her weapons. "Yeah. She will eventually, but not right now."

"You getting' in the way of some good ole mother-deadbeat-mother talk?"

Her eyes hardened. "Yes."

Blake took a breath. "Yang," she whispered. "I don't think this is the best time to start a fight."

"You wouldn't, would you?"

She blinked. "Wha-"

Blake cut herself off as Vernal's head suddenly whipped to the side.

The Faunus felt her cat ears flick up. She could just barely make out a voice from inside the tent, though not the words.

A beat.

Then two.

Before the bandit woman nodded and she took her hands off her blades. The action seemed to calm the rest of the bandits down too.

Yang wasn't convinced yet. "Well? Are we doing this or not?"

Her question was answered as the tent flap slip open.

And Raven Branwen stepped out.

Blake stared.

She…

Was nearly the spitting image of Yang, or, the other way round more logically. The same face structure, the same eye colour and figure. Apart from the hair, which was as black as her name suggested Blake might have actually mistaken her for Yang.

Or she might have, if it wasn't for a few key features.

This woman, Yang's mother, had dark bags under her eyes, like she hadn't slept in days. Her skin was pale, paler than Blake remembered Yang's uncles being. It was dirty, clammy.

Almost looked she was sick.

In fact, by the way she held herself, hunched over slightly and a look of dizziness and nausea, Balke was fairly sure she was sick.

And in pain.

What… had happened to her?

The older woman seemed lost for a moment, before her eyes found the blonde that shared her face.

There was a flash of recognition, and Blake allowed herself to relax a little. It seemed like there wasn't going to be any violence just yet. In fact, Raven spoke, her voice sounding as sickly as she looked, but soft, and full of warmth Blake definitely hadn't expected from a woman who had walked out on her daughter.

"Yang."

And then the blonde moved.

Faster than Blake had been prepared for, faster than any of the hand been.

One moment she had been standing stock-still, staring up at the woman who led the terrifying Branwen Tribe.

The next her fist crashed into her mothers face.

And sent her flying.

...

This chapter is late, and for that, I'm really sorry.

This one was actually really hard to write and I'm not entirely sure why.

It's sort of a... in-between chapter. It needed to be here, but every time I started writing something on it, it was a slog to get through.

Which is sad, because the next bit is something I've wanted to write and get out there for a very, very long time.

Again, sorry for this one being so late.

Hopefully I'll get back on track for the next one.