Chapter Eight – Destiny

Warning: This fanfic will spoil the events of RWBY up to Volume 5. The story picks up immediately after the events of Downfall

Cinder opened her eyes and sharp pain lanced her chest. She looked down and saw the shaft of the black arrow that had burrowed itself deep into her heart. She tried to cry out in pain, but could only manage weak gasps of air, she knew that these would be her final moments and she fought hard for every breath. At the same time, she knew it was futile, she was dying, her strength departed faster than her Aura did. Through the shattered glass window of her confinement she could only catch a final glimpse of the person who murdered her - a woman dressed in red and gold with burning amber eyes and a terrible smile on her face.

Her vision flickered. Cinder was now surrounded by fire. Her left arm was whole again, so was her eye. Wrapped around the length of her arm was a golden chain and in her left palm she grasped tight the golden compass that was attached to the end of the chain. In her right hand she held a black javelin constructed entirely from Dust. The ground quaked as the Grimm dragon lumbered menacingly towards her, its deadly crimson eyes were locked not onto her nor her weapon but the compass wrapped around her arm. She threw the javelin with all her might with her eye on the dragon's heart and her aim was true. The javelin soared through the air with enough energy to penetrate the thick armored scales that guarded its beating heart, but the dragon opened its jaws and bathed Cinder in a massive torrent of unending dragon fire. The black javelin burned and melted away before it could reach the dragon, the compass glowed red hot in her palm as she tried to deflect the fire but it was too much for her. Buckling under the pressure she fell to her knees, consumed by dragon fire as she burned to her fiery death.

The fire lifted and Cinder's eyes were brimming with tears that obscured her vision as she laying dying, rainbows sparkled in the darkness all around her. Her breath was labored, she could feel her life spilling from the thousand wounds that punctured her body, yet this moment was the happiest she had ever been in her life. She reached out with her shaking hand to touch the person that cradled her in her arms and concentrated her final thoughts on the girl that would succeed her as the Fall Maiden.

Cinder sat up wide awake, gasping for breath.

The room was dark, only the remnants of the ebbing moonlight illuminated her world. In front of her were the charred remains of the cupboard she had incinerated when she woke days before, even now she could still smell the faint tinge of singed wood. She turned her head to find that the floorboards were blackened where she had forged her sword, Silver's Cry. Before she could slap her cheeks with her Grimm arm, Armiel cried out in protest.

Yes yes dear, this is reality. Had you used me to slap your own face, you would have lobbed your own head off.

Sigh... How much time have we got?

I'd say another hour. Would you like me to wake you when it's time? I've got some terrible memories prepared for that.

I'll pass. I don't think I can fall asleep either. There's... Something I want to do before we leave this place for good.

She put on her long, velvety, wine red dress. It was the same dress that she wore when she arrived in Mistral and it was going to be the same dress that she would leave in. Tremaine had sewn on a new sleeve to replace the one she tore when she revealed her Grimm arm back in the Vault of the Spring Maiden with a long red sleeve that hung loose to conceal Armiel under the layers of cloth.

Cinder opened the door and as she stepped into the backyard, she was greeted by the fragrant smell of grass and fresh morning dew. She knelt in front of a pile of freshly dug earth and placed her gloved right hand on the cold gray stone. Ana, I'm so sorry. She placed the ruby rose at the foot of Ana's gravestone and a single tear rolled from her cheek.

"You're leaving aren't you, dear?"

Cinder wheeled around to see Tremaine hobbling towards her.

"Y-Yes," sniffed Cinder, wiping the tear from her face. "All I've brought is pain... And suffering to this place. I've done enough. Leaving is- "

"Rubbish dear, you've always been a daughter to me," chuckled Tremaine, straining her back as she sat down beside Cinder, admiring the sunrise beyond the horizon. "And this place will always be home to you."

"Home..." repeated Cinder. A tinge of regret started to spread like a tumor. If only she had stopped to feel what it was like to have a family.

"That's right, dear. Home. The place that will take you in no matter what terrible deeds you have wrought, the only place that will always shelter you and forgive you."

"Terrible things... In her dying moments, Ana told me something," muttered Cinder, she now started to eye the old widow suspiciously. "She's always been aware of the horrible deeds I've done, the people I've killed. But she always saw me for who I am and not who I was."

"Ana... She's always been a wonderful girl- "

"You guys though... You guys have always known who I am... Why would you shelter a murderer?"

"Destiny is a curious thing, dear. Do you believe in destiny?" asked Tremaine.

Cinder got to her feet and started to distance herself.

"Cinder dear, you're not the first Maiden to have walked this land," the old widow slowly picked herself up. "Destiny has something greater in store for you, and you know it."

"Get... Away from me." Cinder shook her head in denial as she retreated.

"Everyone in Mantle-3 knows of the amazing legend of Jasen Arc slaying the dragon, but her story... Fewer people remember," Tremaine started to advance on Cinder. "Her name was Akiha- "

"She was a Fall Maiden too, wasn't she?" interrupted Cinder, frustrated that another Fall Maiden had an ego as large as her's. "Akiha. Her name is a dead giveaway."

Tremaine nodded. "Akiha was a hot-head just like you. Being the Fall Maiden was never enough for her, she too had so much she wanted to prove to the world. But when the time came she chose to stay and fight the dragon so that Jansen Arc could get the Relic of Knowledge safely to Haven Academy. To help him on his journey, she forged him an arrow, the same arrow that pierced the dragon. It was never about a chosen one, they worked together to bring peace to the realm."

"Is that why you've kept me alive? Is that why you've been trying to help me to become a Maiden again? B-Because of some fairy tale?" Cinder's voice started to tremble, but Tremaine ignored her question.

"Destiny has come full circle, dear. The signs were clear as day to the people of Mantle-3 when we pulled you from the Dust mines. The very same Dust mines the dragon is in right now. The Fall Maiden has returned to us," said the old widow, she was now beside Cinder again. "The people are not stupid, dear. We know. And when the dragon rises again, it will be your turn to save this city. Your place is here, Cinder- "

Cinder laughed her terrible villainous laugh.

"Then I'm sure you're familiar with how she met her end," Cinder's face soured, her beautiful features twisted as she contorted in rage. "She sacrificed herself. Ash and cinders. That is all that's left of her. Incinerated by dragon fire."

"Her memories... You've seen Akiha's memories," muttered Tremaine to herself.

As the sun started to cast its golden beams upon the backyard, three black armored vehicles pulled up beside Tremaine's old wooden house. Neo poked her head out of the window, her triple colored hair flashing brilliantly from the light of dawn and she started to beckon Cinder, tapping her wristwatch furiously.

"Akiha made her choice that day. She chose to give her life save Mantle-2. That's what the Fall Maidens have always defended isn't it? Choice- " Tremaine tried to reach for Cinder's hand but she firmly pried it away.

"Do you listen to yourself when you talk, you old crone?" retorted Cinder in disbelief. "You've been rearing me like a lamb for slaughter... S-So that I could die for you at the right moment am I reading that right?"

"Dear, you cannot be more wrong about tha-"

"I'm not a hero. I'm not sacrificing myself to save anyone. And my choice is to leave this wretched place."

Tremaine sighed a deep long sigh as she watched Cinder board the armored vehicle and disappear into the sunrise. She pulled out the golden compass from inside her nightgown and stared at it tearfully.

"Aki-chan... I've failed you..."

"My Lord..."

Jansen Argyros opened his weary silver eyes. The Lord of Mantle-3 had fallen asleep in his study, buried beneath a mountain of documents from the Schnee Dust Company. His life was now an endless cycle, every waking moment was spent freezing the Grimm dragon down the Dust mines, then immediately returning to his castle to catch whatever sleep he could, only to be waken again by his aide three hours later to stop the beast from stirring. His fate had become so intertwined with the dragon's he started to question who was the Silver Eyed Warrior and who the Grimm. Who truly woke while the other slept? Every time he woke, he felt the irresistible urge to plunge Austenaster into his own heart to end this madness once and for all. To hell with the sheeple of Mantle-3.

"I still have another hour... Get the hell out... NOW!"

"My Lord. We have a problem- " insisted his aide.

"This had better be good, Major. I'll be having your head if you waste my- " growled Jansen, trying to reach for his iridescent sword Austenaster but stumbled over himself crumpled into the carpeted floor instead.

"It's the dragon- "

"Is it awake again? Hell..."

"No my Lord, you've slept an hour past your time, but the dragon hasn't woken."

"What? No. That's impossible."

Jansen got to his feet and surveyed the cameras that oversaw the Dust mines. His aide was right, the dragon remained staunchly petrified, motionless as rock.

"That's not all my Lord. It's heart has stopped beating too."

The calm before the storm. The Lord of Mantle-3 started to don his pristine pearl-white armor, he was going to personally confirm this abhorrent new situation.

Without warning the double doors to his study burst open and a single soldier covered in dust let himself in unceremoniously, soiling his lord's perfectly groomed carpeted floor with every step he took. He made his way to the oak desk and knelt on one knee.

"Bad news, my Lord." reported the soldier.

"Do any of you have anything good to say?" roared Jansen. He swung of his sword high over his head and cleaved his oak desk cleanly in half. The lack of sleep had made a monster out of the once princely lord.

"It's the dungeons, my Lord," reported the soldier, his eyes darted around nervously, keeping his gaze firmly on the floor.

"What about the damned dungeons?"

"The Beowolves, my Lord. They're gone."

Say, Scarface. When you do become the Winter Maiden, what are you going to call yourself then? Cinder Winter? HAHAHAHAHA I love how that rhymes.

Cinder sighed aloud as she inspected the rigging of the explosive charges. It was going to be a simple ambush mission. They would detonate the shaped charges, disabling the first and last vehicle in Winter Schnee's convoy, effectively cutting off all routes of escape. This would allow Cinder and her troops a clear and easy assault from the flank.

You know what else I could use besides creativity from the Relic of Creation? I could use a new eye and a new arm.

Oh no you wouldn't Scarface. Don't you want more power? I'm still useful in that department you know.

I'm doubting it right now. But fret not, you'll soon get the chance to prove yourself.

Sigh... Have you no heart, really? That girl Winter, she was so in love with Jansen too. For her life to end like this-

Nobody needs to die today. Not if she hands it over peacefully.

I'm calling it, you're heartless. Is the irony not lost on you? Considering how not too long ago you were... Frozen.

Come to think of it... How did that old crone say she got me out of that ice?

She didn't.

Neo waved her hands to catch Cinder's attention. The sun hung high above their heads, it was noon. Neo's soldiers started to get into their positions, rifles clacking as they chambered their rounds.

"Tell them to switch to non-lethals," demanded Cinder, but Neo shot her a blank look. "Don't think, obey."

Neo pouted her cheeks and blew raspberries at Cinder's face in defiance.

"Oh come on, grow up," sighed Cinder. "If Winter dies, some random girl will become the new Winter Maiden. We need her alive."

Neo scribbled and then held up her drawing block - [Listen to the cripple. Non-lethals, boys.]

"Ma'am!" yelled a trooper looking through his binoculars. "The convoy isn't headed here, they're taking a longer route around!"

Neo pushed the trooper aside to look through his binoculars for herself. She slammed her hands on the rocks and started to scribble furiously - [They're only a mile ahead of us, we can still get them if we give chase now.]

The soldiers scrambled to their vehicles, Neo beckoned Cinder furiously but the she stood her ground armed with a longbow, the fallen Maiden had a look of resolution on her face. With a brilliant burst of vermilion flames, she fused a box full of Dust shards together to form a black arrow. Grasping the longbow in her Grimm arm, she stretched the arrow as far back as the bowstrings would allow her. The drawing motion was second nature to her, after all archery was how she disposed of Amber and what dealt the killing blow to Pyrrha.

Hohoho sniping them from a mile out, this I must see.

Half a mile out I'd say. It's displacement. Are you sure you stole the power of Knowledge?

Pffft. Are you any good with the bow?

Pretty fucking good. A hundred for a hundred shots. How do you think I became the Fall Maiden?

Like her swordsmanship, archery was a skill that had not been hindered by the loss of her eye. If anything it made it easier for her to grasp her targets without the need to shut an eye as she took her aim. At half a mile out, Cinder knew she needed to compensate for the wind and even the rotation of the Earth, for that she needed to know which direction her target was headed. If only she had a compass... A compass?

Let go, Cinder Fall. Let go of your hate, let go of your vengeance. Let go... A thousand voices rang inside her. Not just from her head, but the voices also emanated from her heart and somewhere deep inside her, deeper than just her flesh and bones.

Armiel get the hell out of my head!

What? What are you talking about?

"Trooper!" Cinder shook her head and yelled. "Which direction are they headed?"

"N-Northwest, Ma'am!"

Cinder drew her bow and made the necessary adjustments. But instead of tracking her target through the mountainous Mistral scenery, a thousand visions flashed before Cinder's eye in an instant. A black dragon soaring through the sky. Dazzling rainbow stalactites. A city ablaze. A girl with short black hair running through a lush green field with a sunset that stretched forever beyond the horizon of falling amber leaves. Salem arching her head back laughing. The two gemstones in her hands cast their radiant beams of light at the four golden objects at the hem of her robes - a lamp, a compass, a sword and a staff.

"Ma'am! Are you alright Ma'am?"

Cinder grit her teeth and shoved the soldier aside. With one fluid, decisive motion she drew and released the arrow. Dust infused within the arrow ignited and it tore through the sky like an iridescent black comet headed straight toward the first vehicle of the convoy. Upon impact the arrow detonated itself and a deafening explosion ensued, the convoy of vehicles became obscured by a colossal ball of fire. Shock waves uprooted nearby trees and shattered the boulders, even at half a mile away, tremors from the sheer force of the arrow's impact could be felt by Cinder. When the dust cleared, Winter Schnee's convoy was forced to come to a halt - their passageway forward was nothing but a massive black crater that impeded their advance.

A hundred out of a hundred and one shots. Still an impressive record, Scarface. Just not perfect.

A hundred and one out of a hundred and one shots, Armiel. I hit where I wanted it to.

No way. Not shifting the goalposts, are we?

"Neo," commanded Cinder as she leapt into her black armored vehicle. "Establish communication with Winter Schnee. Tell her that her stay at Mantle-3 has been extended and she is to surrender command over her troops to us. That was a warning shot, should they not comply, kindly remind them that the next arrow will wipe them off the face of Remnant. We're turning back. Now."

Neo scribbled on her drawing block - [But the mission was to kill the Winter Maiden.]

"We don't know that she is the Winter Maiden," said Cinder. "The only evidence of that are the words of your precious Lord Jansen. I don't want to repeat myself. We're going back. If we don't, there will be no Mantle-3 for us to return to."

You're on to something aren't you Scarface?

I've doomed the city, Armiel. I shouldn't have left.

If you turn back now, you're giving up the chance to become a Maiden, dear. To become the Winter Maiden-

I'm giving it up so that I can reclaim the power of the Fall Maiden.

In doing so you'll break faith with Jansen. And with it the revenge he's promised you. Think about it, Ruby and Raven-

It was in front of us the whole time, Armiel. I was... So blinded by vengeance-

Slow down, Scarface. What are you talking about?

The dragon is coming for it. The Relic... The Relic of Choice is back in Mantle-3.

Jansen and his two soldiers stepped out from the twisted portal and into the Dust mines. The petrified Grimm dragon towered to the ceiling, staring down at the tiny people below with its blank eyes. The reports were right, the dragon's heartbeat had ceased, the dragon stopped stirring, but something felt amiss. Jansen stepped cautiously towards the monolithic statue and placed his hand on the cold gray stone, except it was no longer cold, it was so hot that he retracted his hand involuntarily.

"M-My Lord!" cried one of the soldiers.

Jansen turned around to see the cavern lit with a million pairs of glowing red eyes. Beowolves. Baying and salivating. This is where these bastards have burrowed from the dungeons. They were severely outnumbered. The cavern was going to be their cold, dark graves.

Before he could gather his thoughts to activate his silver eyes, a Beowolf sprang forward to maul one of his soldiers. The soldier panicked and let loose a single bullet. The projectile ricocheted, igniting the rainbow columns of Dust. Blinding explosions spread throughout the cavern, Jansen struggled to keep his eyes open as he hacked and slashed aimlessly at the horde of Beowolves that started their assault. A thunderous roar shook the cavern, a roar far louder than even the Dust explosions. Slabs of smoking rock started to rain down from the ceiling above as the Grimm dragon started to shed its craggy exterior like an insect molting its shell.

Light brimmed from Jansen's eyes, he turned to bathe the dragon in silver, but the Grimm's spikey tail slammed into his chest, throwing the Silver Eyed Warrior across the cavern, killing the lights in his eyes. The dragon turned its ugly bone white head to face Jansen, the man who had kept the beast repressed for so long, denying the beast its freedom so that his kind could bask in the bountiful treasures that grew around it. Amber lights lit the insides of the dragon's belly, and when it opened its monstrous jaws a powerful torrent of flames shot forth, decimating every thing in its path. Soldiers screamed as they were roasted alive in their gray armor, gemstones charred and became obsidian black, even boulders of Dust melted and boiled under the merciless waves of dragon fire.

A flash of iridescent silver and Jansen leapt through the portal he conjured, narrowly avoiding the stream of dragon fire that would have surely reduced him to a pile of smoking ashes. Jansen got to his feet. The portal brought him atop the highest tower of the White Castle, armed with its big ugly ballista pointed at the Dust mines. Jansen kicked open the suitcase to reveal the three shimmering iridescent white arrows. He picked one up and felt the weight of the world in his hands. Everything in his life led to this moment, the one event that gave his life meaning - to stand atop the tower and shoot down the dragon just like his ancestor did all those years ago. He was the Chosen One, the Protector of the Realm, the Silver Eyed Warrior, the Lord of Mantle-3. This was his destiny.

Author's Notes:

Yes yes, I took a LOT of liberty with the Relics: Knowledge - Lamp, Choice - Compass, Destruction - Sword, Creation - Staff. As with alot of my stylistic decisions, these were conscious choices, though they are highly unlikely to be the Relics in canon, but I think they are fair predictions. For this story, all four items are connected by one trait, they are all items a medieval adventurer would possess and it would be a great tie-in if the Relics were the old man's personal items in The Story of the Seasons.

As for whether or not Winter Schnee is the Winter Maiden. I left this deliberately ambiguous so that the story could have connectivity back to canon. The way I chose for this to happen is that Cinder simply never finds out, though as the writer of this story, my answer is no she is not. Why? Because we had multiple POVs of Winter throughout this story, it was never foreshadowed that she was a Maiden, also it would take away the importance of Cinder being the Fall Maiden in this story. As for whether or not in canon she will be the Winter Maiden... I think that she already is or she will be at some point. I think that RT has written themselves into a corner with regards to this because it would be narratively unfulfilling if they suddenly conjured a new Winter Maiden character 5 volumes into the series. But on the flip side if Winter IS the Winter Maiden that would be like the most predictable thing ever and clever subversion of expectation is key to making a story interesting so...

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, feel free to drop a follow/favorite whatever suits your fancy if you did. Look forward to the next chapter. Cheers!