Tell Me Something

Hey people! Not too much to say today. The next chapter for this story is actually already planned out and half written so it should only be a few weeks before it's out! Enjoy!

Raging Archon: Nope they're not a Night elf. And who knows, maybe Glynda wasn't thinking of spring just because of flowers and nature. Maybe she was thinking about the tem-... But I'm sure you'll all figure it out soon enough!

"I push away those who I want most in my life, telling myself that it's better I learn to live without attachments. But deep inside I know that all I want is for someone to resist my efforts at pushing them away and to tell me that I'm worth holding onto, even in my darkest moments." - Unknown

"So remind me again how this is safe?" Blake asked as she, Summer, Wrath, and Donyc all gazed down at the scene before them.

On the lower section of Acherus, just below the group, several Kirin Tor mages were channeling arcane energies into the air next to where Acherus floated, above the Broken Isles, it's intimidating presence and reputation as the specter of death that it was, even with the Tomb of Sargeras just miles away.

"Never said it was, but it's the quickest way we'll be getting to Atlas." Donyc muttered in reply, the usual edge in his voice whenever he addressed Blake present. "We'll just have to hope they don't think we're the enemy and attempt to shoot us down on sight."

"Won't they recognize Acherus?" Summer asked.

"Image means everything White Reaper," Donyc said, his eyes transfixed on the forming wormhole in the sky, "When you look scary people tend to strike first and ask questions later, regardless of your intentions. Believe me, I'd know."

"Alright, that limits our options... We'll have to improvise." The white cloaked huntress murmured as her hand found her chin, which she pinched in thought for a few moments before turning to the Deathlord, "Wrath?"

"Hmm?"

"Death Knights are able to create a magical shield that surrounds a small area around them, correct?"

"We have two different types, a personal one and one we can use to surround-..." Wrath seemed to catch on to whatever Summer seemed to be planing and gave the Reaper a nod, crossing his arms, "You suggesting what I think you are?"

"That depends, do you have a conduit around here that you can project large amounts of power from?" Summer asked, "Preferably something that wouldn't add any extra weight or extend travel time?"

Wrath and Donyc glanced at each other, their expressions blank as they both spoke only two words to each other.

"The eye?"

"The eye."

Wrath and Donyc turned from the portal without another word and began sprinting inside, nearly knocking several mingling knights onto the ground towards their destination.

Summer glanced over at Blake when the two Death Knights had disappeared from sight into a throng of their peers and undead minions. "The eye? What eye?"

The Faunus turned her finger to the sky, watching as Summer followed its trail with her eyes to their intended destination. On the side of the Necropolis, like a massive magical tumor, a large glowing blue orb floated, it's catlike pupil gazing down upon the isles with what seemed to be vague interest.

"I can't believe I didn't notice that coming in... Guess that's what I get for being inattentive..." Summer muttered, staring up in morbid fascination at the magical construct. "So this eye?..."

"Eye of Acherus." Blake clarified, crossing her arms as she recounted what little she knew thanks to Wrath's little tour of Acherus he had given her when they had first arrived, Apparently it was a device used to spy on Azerothians back during the war with the Scourge. It's been gathering dust for the last few years according to Wrath."

"Are they sure it'll work?"

"Probably not, but they sure won't admit it to our faces."

Summer shook her her head, accompanied by a soft giggle. These Death Knights were certainly-...

"Deathlord!" The echoing voice of an approaching Ebon Ravager broke Summer from her thoughts, it's black armor gleaming in the dim light as it approached both her and Blake. "Deathlord? Where's the Deathlord?"

"Dealing with something, what's going on?" Summer asked, to which she received an audible scoff.

"Wouldn't you like to know..."

Blake opened her mouth to protest the verbal jab from the Ravager, only to hesitate as Summer's own voice snapped out like a viper emerging from it's hiding spot, pouncing on it's kill. "Remind me, what rank are you?"

"I'm a-..."

Summer intervened before the Ravager could say his piece, "Let me rephrase my question. I assume you're under the direct command of the Deathlord, correct?"

The Ravager was silent.

"And since Blake here is Wrath's significant other, wouldn't that mean she's got a bit more pull with him than the average soldier around here?" Summer asked, though it was obvious her tone was questioning less for question's sake and more for the sarcasm that towed alongside it.

"She's a guest, nothing more than that."

"A guest with far more favor in Wrath than any of you could ever hope to achieve."

The irritated Knight let out a soft curse in its native tongue. Blake could practically see the realization cross the Ravager's face that they'd been led into a verbal dead end.

"...I was sent to inform the Deathlord that the necropolis is ready for teleportation."

"There." Summer gave the Ravager a calm smile, tiling her head ever so slightly as she did so. A normally endearing gesture that took on a whole new meaning with her next statement. "Was that so hard?"

The Ebon Ravager let out another curse before turning on his heel and making his way back towards the interior, mumbling incoherently as he rejoined the crowd of Death Knights all in the midst of their preparations.

"Sorry about him." A voice echoed throughout the platform, it's guttural tone catching the two huntresses by surprise, "He's just sore cause he's not one of the lucky few headed down to the ground when we get to Atlas."

Blake and Summer turned to face the source of the noise, the latter's eyes widening with surprise as they beheld the view of a female forsaken clad in the armor of the Ebon Blade, leaning causally against the pommel of her axe. She was more well preserved than Donyc was, Summer noted, but she certainly still would have a hell of a time posing as anything more than a zombie, as there were still significant chunks of flesh absent from her limbs, especially around the joints.

"Minerva." The Faunus half whispered as the Forsaken Death Knight gave a smirk, or what would have been one if several sections of her face's flesh hadn't rotted away, with the entirety of her lower jaw bone replaced by one of rusting metal.

"How'ya doin' Blake?" The Forsaken, Minerva, asked as she pushed herself off the end of her axe and sauntered over, throwing an arm around Blake and giving her a soft poke on the shoulder with her bony finger, "Still keepin' yourself sane around all us ghouls and ghosts?"

Blake gave a small smile which was accompanied by a shrug, "Usual. Donyc still hates me."

"That good, huh? Well look at the bright side."

"Bright side?" Summer asked.

"Yeah. You're both still breathin' and no extra limbs have been sewn onto your backs!..." Minerva chuckled as she released the Faunus to spread her arms out, gesturing to the rest of the Necropolis, "Hell of an accomplishment in a place like this!..."

Summer gave an uneasy smile while Blake rolled her eyes. Minerva was certainly one of the friendlier Death Knights of the bunch, but with a friendly nature usually also came the need to joke, and with Death Knights came the macabre viewpoint they seemed to hold in every possible topic, humor amongst them.

"Oh, just so you know, I passed the Deathlord." Minerva said as she jammed a thumb back towards the interior of Acherus, "He said he wants you to try out your new armor in the upcoming battle today."

"It's ready?"

"Blacksmith finished this mornin'. You should go, I'll run ahead and tell the Deathlord I caught up to you."

Blake gave the woman a nod before Minerva turned and stalked away, the grin never leaving her face.

"It's good to see at least one of the Death Knights has a modicum of respect for you." Summer exclaimed as she watched the Knight in question disappear into the depths of the Necropolis, like all the others before her. How they could constantly live in such a foul smelling place Summer would never understand.

Blake hummed in agreement at the elder huntresses' statement.

"I-.." Before Summer could continue a loud crack echoed throughout the Necropolis, causing both huntresses to jump and turn their attention to the source of the noise. Just above them the large azure sphere that loomed against the side of Acherus suddenly began glowing a bright green hue.

Not but a few moments later another loud boom of energy shook the Necropolis as the eye suddenly began projecting a massive shield that seemed to tint the very sky and surrounding islands, enveloping all that the huntresses could see in a sickly green haze.

"I guess the eye actually functions. Lucky for us." Blake gave a soft laugh, only to hesitate when she realized there was little but silence from the other huntress. Turning to Summer the Faunus spoke up, "Summer?"

"Seems so..." Summer finally muttered as she stared up at the shield, her eyes devoid of any true excitement. It wasn't boredom though, Blake quickly noted. It was the gaze of someone who was calculating, planning. And she had a good idea as to what.

"...Are you nervous?" She asked, eliciting a near silent gasp from Summer, one that would have easily gone unnoticed by Blake if it hadn't been for her Faunus heritage.

"About what?" The elder huntress asked.

"About seeing Ruby and Yang again."

Summer said nothing, turning her gaze away from Blake and back towards the Islands scattered below the Necropolis, her expression hidden behind her cloak. Only the sounds of various Death Knights and their minions reached the ears of the huntresses, along with the occasional chanting of necromancers raising ghouls and abominations in preparation for the upcoming battle.

"...Sorry, guess I just thought you would be more jittery." Blake shrugged.

"...I'm not leaving the necropolis."

This caused nearly the exact reaction Summer had been anticipating, "What? But we just-..."

"Blake!..." Summer interrupted, her voice loud enough to cause the words to die on Blake's tongue, "I appreciate your earlier words of encouragement, I truly do, but I can't-..."

"Why not?"

Summer grew silent once more, seemingly shrinking back into her cape as Blake stares the older huntress down. It was a behavior Ruby had displayed multiple times whenever she was under scrutiny, no doubt inherited from the woman who now stood before Blake.

The feline Faunus crossed her arms, boring a hole into the white cloak covering Summer with her golden eyes, "They could use their mother right now... Probably now more than ever..."

"...I know..."

Blake stared at the unmoving reaper, her nose scrunched in irritation. Eventually though the realization that there was little she could do to attempt to convince Summer any further she already had seemed to wash over her, perfectly mirroring the subtle droop in her posture as she sighed, "...I'm going to go find Wrath."

Blake was gone before Summer could count to three, into the same mess of chaotic preparation all those before her had waded into, leaving the white cloaked woman to look on in despair.

Leaving her standing alone with her thoughts once more.

Weiss gazed into the mirror, it's seemingly flawless surface reflecting back the image of a seemingly flawless young woman.

She hated how she looked.

She wasn't supposed to hate it. A year ago she wouldn't have.

She looked like the heiress she should.

Yet under the layers of makeup and fabric she knew lay a different personality. One that was beginning to win over the one that had dominated her soul for so long.

That of a huntress. If that was even what she could be called. If that was even what she wanted to be called.

Was she a huntress? A huntress was a protector of humanity against the unending tides of the Grimm. Yet the Grimm, they were little more than a footnote now, a small drop in the sea of destruction that threatened to overtake not only Atlas, or Remnant, but the entirety of existence.

So what was it then? A soldier like her sister perhaps? That would have been a laughable thought to the Weiss of the past. Her, a soldier? Not likely.

Yet now, now as she glanced down at her palms, the tips of her fingers ever so slightly calcified from the countless hours of training she and Ravarth had gone through with various other members of the Alliance military she couldn't seem to stop away that thought. The thought that perhaps, just maybe-...

"Miss Schnee?"

Weiss turned her attention from her hands, glancing back at the entrance of her room to find a female Stormwind guard standing there, her warm ginger hair and bright smile providing a sobering juxtaposition to the sterile motif caused by the rest of the room, including Weiss herself.

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Queen Wrynn has been asking for you, something about 'her usual balance in stupid lady stilts'." The guard chuckled, shaking her head. The entirety of her demote or betrayed her innocence. She was obviously new, no doubt one of the guards that had been pulled from the general city guard to serve as a temporary Royal Guard for the duration of Anduin and Ruby's visit to Atlas.

"...You're a woman, can't you help her?" Weiss asked, an unintentional edge in her tone which made the soldier hesitate for but a moment.

"...I'm afraid not Miss Schnee, I'm a soldier, not a politician. The closest I come to attire such as that is when they're on the feet of diplomats I'm assigned to protect."

Huh, so she wasn't as new as she seemed then, Weiss noted. She was still certainly more eager than most however. Perhaps she was just enthused by the idea of traveling to another world or the thought of guarding such high profile members of her faction. Whatever the case it was still a stark contrast to the rest of the atmosphere, almost unsettlingly so.

"Very well then," Weiss stood, brushing off her dress as she rose. Couldn't ever be too immaculate. Never too perfect. "Lead the way."

The soldier nodded, however just before she turned to leave Weiss called out once more.

"Wait!..."

"Yes?"

Weiss froze as she felt her face heat up due to her sudden outburst, but quickly hid it behind the poised facade she had worked to perfect over her adolescence. The facade that was quickly proving an increasing challenge to call upon. "Have you heard anything about Tho-... Commander Ravarth?"

"Oh, yes. He'll be attending the ball today, though as a King's Guard, not a guest. King Anduin and he seem to share a sort of friendship, so none of us are surprised to see him back so quickly." The soldier explained, holding the door open for the heiress as she backed out of the doorway.

"...I see," Weiss glanced back at her form in the mirror one last time for little more than a moment.

She hated it.

"Go on, lead the way."

"Of course, Miss Schnee."

"Well, I see you've certainly taken to looking the part of the others here." Summer chuckled, hiding her smile behind a pale hand, gazing at the reticent Faunus that stood before her, tightening the straps of strange purple wrist guards, the motif of a skull on each bracer.

"It's just some of Wrath's old armor. He had it reworked to fit me." Blake explained as she finalized the fit of the bracers, checking them over one last time before turning her attention to the leg guards which traveled up just past her knees where they flared out, tightening them as well before finally bringing herself to her feet, giving a few experimental kicks to the air, silently nodding in to herself.

"Why not wear the whole set? From where I'm standing it looks quite good on you." Summer inquired, to which she received a shrug.

"Too heavy. I'm just sticking with the lighter pieces," Blake explained, "I can dodge most attacks that are thrown at me."

Summer nodded in understanding. She herself usually only relied on a minimalistic breastplate and gauntlets. Armor was well and good, but neither she, nor Blake, were head on fighters. They certainly weren't fragile by any means, but a large Orc or bear Faunus would have a much easier time recovering from a staggering blow from a warhammer or other blunt attacks than either of them.

"At least ones that don't come from raptor Grimm." Wrath's voice echoed from behind as the Death Knight in question strode up behind his Faunus counterpart, poking the scar barely visible on Blake's still partially exposed stomach.

"Nuar'ashus..." (Smartass...)

Summer shook her head at the behavior the two young warriors before her were displaying before coughing loudly into her hand, drawing the attention of both Faunus and elf. "Are we ready to go?"

"More or less." Wrath said as he walked past Blake and to the guard rail, staring down at the mages below, "I just need to give the order and we can be on our way to Atlas."

"We should be on our way then," Summer replied, "There's no telling how close the Legion is to their target, best we beat them there before we're too late."

Wrath nodded in agreement, giving a small hand signal to the mages on the lower platform to begin the ritual. "You two might want to hang onto something. It's going to be a bit of a bumpy ride."

Almost immediately a bright light began to surround the Necropolis, and mere moments later the entire structure seemed to shake and shudder before it disappeared, as if pulled into a minuscule singularity, leaving only smoke and steam where the grand Necropolis once floated proudly above the isles.

"...-And I hope that through this union of powers we will come to see a prosperous and lush future, devoid of the demon plague that looms against us!" Jacque Schnee's voice boomed throughout the ballroom, somehow rising above the constant chatter that accompanied it by the host of diplomats and wealthy citizens who were packed into the immaculately decorated ballroom.

It was a pallet of colorful dresses and ties unlike any Thomas had seen before. Women wearing dresses adorned with a host of jewels and smashes that were a veritable assault on the senses and men with gaudy neckties and elaborately designed coats that seemed to posses all manner of different insignias.

It was useless, all of it.

The time everyone spent here, with their thumbs up each other's asses could have been used to such a greater benefit planning strikes against the Legion, who no doubt were using the lull from the leadership of both Remnant and Azeroth to further plan out future attacks. They could be out there stopping those plans, eliminating the piece before it even reached the board.

But no, he had to be stuck here, watching as a flock of sheep idly munched on cakes and sipped on Chardonnay, all while driveling on about asinine topics that made his ears want to bleed until all that was left in his head was a damn-...

"Thomas?"

Thomas glanced over at the source of the noise, already knowing the identity of the owner before he'd even moved, however when she came into his view he felt himself hesitate.

There stood Weiss, two glasses in hand, one filled with what Thomas could only assume was white, and in the other a small shotglass. Her dress was far different from the 'combat skirt' she usually wore, replaced by a long flowing dress that reached down to her ankles, with a split that ran up just past her knee, exposing her leg to the world. The obviously intended regal tone was only further accentuated by the sapphire gemstone that was placed directly over the manubrium section of her sternum, which glittered brightly even in the dim light of the ballroom.

"...Hi."

"Hmm." He greeted, his mind willing his eyes to move, yet they seemed frozen on the heiress.

"I'm glad you came."

"Didn't want to." He replied with his usual snark as he finally found the will to turn his gaze from her, though the edge that both he and Weiss had been expecting from his words was absent, replaced by an almost resigned sadness.

Without a word of retort Weiss held out the small shot glass towards Thomas, which he accepted just as silently, staring down at the translucent orange liquid which filled the vessel for a moment, giving it an experimental sniff.

Sulfuron Slammer.

He gave a silent huff. Of course the Schnee family would be able to afford importing something from Azeroth.

"I... Figured you wouldn't be appreciative of wine." Weiss explained, bringing her own glass of wine to her lips, taking a light sip, though it appeared the action was more a habit than it was any desire to drink. No doubt one of the hundreds of points of social etiquette the Schnee family had drilled into her as a child.

"You'd be right." He said before throwing the shot back, holding his expression steady despite the harsh burning sensation which slighter end down his throat like poison over an open wound.

Weiss seemed to hesitate for a few moments, her white gloved hand tracing the rim of her wine glass as she stared down at Thomas' waist, where a silver small-sword with an elegantly decorated revolver like barrel nestled just above the grip rested in a small makeshift scabbard.

"I see you brought Myrtenaster..."

"You forgot it at the hotel last week. I needed a low profile weapon." Thomas explained, to which Weiss only nodded slowly, her eyes trailing from her weapon to the floor.

An awkward aura soon manifested between them, the echo of laughter from one of the dozens of guests filling the room as Thomas attempted to focus on Weiss' voice. If it hadn't been for his heightened senses he would have no doubt missed her voice in the myriad of noise.

"...I'm sorry..."

"You're sorry?" He asked.

"Last week; for what I said. I'm apologize."

"...You never said anything wrong." Thomas replied, "Not directly at least..."

Weiss said nothing, though judging my how quickly she moved to the wall next to Thomas, leaning against it semi-casually, it was obvious that for her at least some of the tension had evaporated.

When she made no attempt to continue the conversation though Thomas sighed, "Weiss, you can't expect me to be able to navigate your little world of politics nearly as well as you can. I'm a solider for a reason."

"You seem to get along with me just fine..." Weiss said before noting Thomas' disbelief painted throughout his expression, "...Most of the time at least."

"You're different."

"I'm different?!..."

"Not like that. I meant you're different because I don't have to hold my tongue around you. I don't always get the best reactions but at least I can expect an honest reaction, which is more than I can say for most." Thomas admitted, "...And whether or not I want to admit it, you're probably the closest thing I have to a close friend."

It was silent for what seemed like an age. The clinking of glasses and chatter of meaningless prattle filled the air like an audible fog.

"...So are you."

"What are you on about?"

"You're probably the closest friend I've had recently."

"You've got friends Weiss," Thomas glanced over to where Ruby and Anduin, both dressed in the colors of Stormwind were happily conversing with guests, "The Queen especially."

"Ruby and Anduin have been preoccupied with the war against the demons. Ruby and I speak and socialize when we can but it's been hard the last few months. She's still my friend, I doubt that will ever change, but I'd be delusional to deny it's been challenging to even schedule the things we used to be able to do spontaneously, back before the war started."

"What about the rest of your team?" Thomas pressed, "And the other one, JNPR I think?"

The heiress let out a huff of annoyance, "Yang's made her first appearance tonight in months after traveling God knows where with Varimas, and Blake is off with Wrath and his Death Knights, she didn't even bother showing up tonight... Even if she did she's no doubt linger in the corner like you're doing now. Glaring at anyone from the SDC."

"Good point. And the other team?"

"I was never especially close with them, at least not to the extent I am with the rest of Team RWBY. They're good friends, sure, but I can't say I've ever spent time with any of them outside of our old group get-togethers." Weiss explained, "They're not exactly the easiest group to penetrate and worm your way into."

"Seem plenty nice to me."

"They're nice. Some of the nicest people on the planet, even if they are weird. But that doesn't make them close. Being nice makes you nice. Not close."

"Besides, around them I still have to be Weiss Schnee, at least to a degree..." Weiss trailed off then, her voice dying as she finally whispered out, "Around you I can be just Weiss..."

Thomas murmured in agreement, "So I guess we have to admit to being friends, still doesn't mean I'm any more comfortable here. This is a ballroom, not a battlefield."

He was able to say little else before a hand appeared in his peripheral vision. Glancing up he saw Weiss reaching out to him, a faint smile on her lips. "Come on then, let's try changing that."

"What?"

"All the other guards are mingling with the guests," She said as she gestured towards the throngs of people. "You should too."

"We just got over talking about how I-..." Thomas never noticed his voice drift off as Weiss' smile seemed to soften.

"I won't leave your side, I promise."

He stared back down at her hand for a few moments. The hand that seemed to posses no flaw.

That shot she had given him had been planned, hadn't it?

"...Fine."