Well, I made you wait a week, I'll not keep you any longer.

Chapter 48

There was a brief moment where Cinder thought that maybe, just maybe, she might be able to salvage the situation. That somehow, despite the body that hadn't even begun to cool at her feet, despite the way that she'd been outed as the mastermind of the plan that was now burning Vale to the ground, she might still be able to convince Glynda that…

That…

She swallowed on nothing.

What was there she could say? That this wasn't what it looked like? That even if she'd killed Ozpin, even if James Ironwood had outed her as the mastermind behind this entire plot, that really, she actually cared about Glynda so much, so they should try and look past it? That she'd been this close to turning away from everything for her? That all she – she – wanted was to be with her?

That wasn't an option.

Cinder had no options.

She was breathing hard and heavy, a step or so away from hyperventilating outright. A part of her wondered – perhaps hysterically – just what it was that Glynda would do if she started to break down here and now. Would she take advantage of that moment of weakness to disarm and apprehend her? Or would she, as she had done some nights ago, whisper sweet nothings into her ear as she coaxed her back to calm, holding her so gently as everything else melted away.

Her hands shook terribly. The spear she still held in her right wobbled, the tip not really pointing at anything. She partitioned one part of her mind to try and analyze her options. She needed to get out of the vault, that much was for certain. It was a decent location to fight someone, but Cinder didn't want to fight Glynda at all. She just… wasn't sure she was going to have a choice.

Because Glynda had her riding crop pointed right at her. Her hands, too, shook, and the tip of the crop vibrated with both that and the energy of her semblance coursing through it. How long would it be, Cinder found herself thinking, before she used it, pushed her semblance into it and fought against her?

She tried to speak, to do something. She had to. She couldn't allow this to descend into violence, not so easily. "…Glynda–"

"I trusted you."

It was a gut punch. It struck hard and fast and with such force that it was a wonder Cinder was able to stay on her feet, barely balancing along with her weapon still aloft. She couldn't look away from Glynda's gaze, from the way that tears were building in her eyes, the way that her jaw had tightened to a ludicrous degree.

"I… I had a feeling… back when I tackled you to the floor in the CCT, and then danced beside you at the ball a few minutes later… the feelings were too similar, too alike. Again when you hesitated that day in my office, when I asked you if you were hiding anything, I knew, even then, and yet…" Glynda was desolate. "…I trusted you!"

Cinder couldn't respond. She had nothing, nothing at all. If there was something magical to say, something that could get her out of this, that could keep the two of them together, that could keep them from being rent asunder, then quite frankly she would've killed to receive it. Her heart was beating along inside her chest at a million miles a minute, and it felt like it might explode, or like it might run out of energy entirely.

All of Cinder felt that way, despite the now seemingly endless flame coursing through her veins.

"I will say this… only once." Glynda's voice was quiet; so terribly, terribly quiet, and it quivered and shook with more feeling than could be known. "…Surrender. Put down your weapon. I will…" She breathed shakily, the tears in her eyes only growing fuller, threatening more and more to spill down her face. "I will make sure that you receive a full trial. That you are processed in accordance with the laws of Vale. I swear it."

And Cinder, she…

She knew she couldn't.

Because as much as Glynda liked to pretend, no one would be standing trial for what had happened today. For the murder of hundreds – thousands – there would be no trial. There would only be an execution. Perhaps the more minor soldiers, those of the White Fang, or if they were captured, Emerald and Mercury, might get away with lesser, but her? The one behind it all, the servant of Salem? The Fall Maiden? A power that only transferred to another upon death?

…

"…I can't do that." Cinder said, her grip on her weapon becoming firmer. "…Please, stand aside. I don't want to fight you."

Glynda's entire body shook, like a shiver had run down her form. She did not say anything, simply leant her head back as if to stare up at the sky, at the heavens above. Perhaps she was asking the accursed brother gods why they would do such a thing to her. Why, after everything, all the good they had had together, this had to be the ending.

Cinder would've too, had she any belief they'd be listening.

And when Glynda looked back down at her, that tiny bit of momentum was enough to loose the tears that had been building behind her eyes. It was enough to send them both traveling down her face, until they, too, fell, hitting against the floor beneath them.

Glynda took one final breath.

"Very well." Was the last thing she said.

And then, with a small flourish, Glynda rocketed towards her.

Cinder parried her initial blow with no real difficulty. Neither of them would be revealing the true depths of their strength for quite a while. That was how battles were at the highest echelons. Both combatants would pry at one another's fortifications, attempt to find a small hole in their opponent's defense they might exploit before they brought out their most deadly techniques. Cinder flipped away from Glynda, even as she heard the aura transfer machine give a horrid creaking noise from behind her.

Cinder's muscles tightened as the machine was flung towards her, Glynda's semblance ripping it from the floor and sending the heavy metal object careening in her direction. She utilized the complete might of the Maiden's Fire to blast herself out of the way, allowing the object to go soaring over her head, missing her by perhaps a foot, if not less. When it hit the opposite wall, it did so with a great crash that seemed to echo on forever inside of the vault, and it was more than loud enough that Cinder could not hear anything else that Glynda may've been doing.

Her opponent was not so amateur as to not take advantage of that. In the interim moments between when she'd flung the aura transfer machine and when it had hit the opposite wall, Glynda had been moving. Cinder turned to see that she'd taken up Ozpin's cane, slotting it onto her back, and though she didn't entirely know what that was capable of, she had a feeling that Ozma would not wield an ineffective weapon. She would have to keep that at the back of her mind during their exchange.

Her current priority was leaving the vault. More than anything else, she needed to separate herself from Glynda. To do that, she would need to either incapacitate her for a period of time sufficient enough to escape, or trick her into buying that same time. The first seemed a lot more likely, but she did not want to harm Glynda, even now, even knowing she may have to.

Glynda's form was upon her in nary another moment; not entirely flying, but her semblance seemed to allow her some level of control in the air, much the same as the Maiden's fire allowed Cinder to propel herself into the skies. It was a rather common affair among huntsman at the highest caliber, the ability to take to the skies, to fight amongst the clouds. How ironic that the two of them flew deep beneath the earth, in a battle neither of them wished to have.

Cinder flared that very power within her, now stronger and fuller than ever, in order to blast Glynda backwards. Her opponent did not even seem to notice the blow, somehow, bracing herself against a glyph that appeared behind her. Cinder had never seen Glynda exert full mastery of her semblance like this before, but now that she was faced with it, she seemed to be capable of some of the same feats that the Schnee family was, able to conjure into being glyphs that could be manipulated to act as physical walls.

Glynda's crop flicked out, and Cinder had a moment to wonder what it was she was doing before the broken and battered metal that had once been capable of transferring souls flew right past where she'd been merely a second prior. Glynda blitzed in within that moment, striking out not with her semblance, but with Ozpin's weapon. The cane connected with the Midnight that she brought into being, and in the contest of strength that followed, Cinder was for the second time in her life reminded that Glynda was far stronger than she looked.

It had been the same, that night in the CCT, when Glynda had held her down and forced her to reveal the Maiden's fire. The memory of that evening, of the following dance together with her, the moment that Glynda had – to her, at least – fully bought into the idea that the two of them could perhaps have something, dulled her senses. No, not just her senses. It dulled her instincts, her training, her ferocity. It dulled Fall itself.

Cinder cried out as Ozpin's cane struck her across the face in that next moment, sending her rocketing back into the wall behind her. She snarled as anger briefly overcame her, and she exerted the seemingly limitless power within her breast enough to kick up a miniature firestorm in the depths of Beacon.

And yet, somehow, Glynda pierced through even that, on a war path as she charged directly at Cinder. She was attempting to end this as quickly as possible; Cinder could tell. There was no desire to drag this out from either of them. It was why they were both going so hard this early, when normally, they'd be conserving energy.

Simply put, the sooner this ended, the better for the both of them.

So Cinder would follow suit herself.

Instead of holding herself in the air as she had been until then, she allowed herself to fall. It surprised Glynda, who sailed directly over her head, and Cinder flared her semblance across her outfit, across the martial arts uniform she'd grown so accustomed to, and transformed it into her own dress, the brilliant vermillion of it seeming to shine with the fire. Then, before Glynda could even look down at her, she shifted its color from red to black.

She kicked up fire all around her, desperately burning every little piece of the vault to smithereens. She would not allow it to burn hotly enough to hurt Glynda, for that was not her intent. No, all of this was merely a smokescreen. She simply wanted to obscure her form from Glynda, and, in the chaos, escape out of the vault via the only exit.

She blazed her way towards the elevator at the front of the room, and managed to make it before Glynda had caught up to her. She internally debated the logistics of pressing the button and trying to ride up, but realized how foolish that would be. Instead, she melted a hole through the roof of the elevator above her, and rocketed upwards far faster than the device could've taken her.

She rose like smoke from the fire, blazing a path up the dark and empty elevator shaft. It was farther than she'd expected it to be, easily a hundred meters into the earth, if not deeper. And yet, a second before she was about to sigh out in relief at her smokescreen working–

A hand gripped her around the ankle, and before she could even blink, she'd been pulled back far enough that another hand reached up and pushed her head into the side of the chamber, her face grating against the material as she hissed in pain. She looked over to see that Glynda, with an enraged scowl, had caught up to her, evidently realizing what she'd been trying to do.

Cinder swore under her breath as, instead of exiting out at ground level as she'd been intending to, the two of them instead flew up straight past the elevator doors that would have let them out inside the main building of Beacon. They continued to snake their way up the vertical tunnel, missing any chance of an early escape.

Cinder snarled, having had enough, and breathed flame from out of her mouth, using it as a means of gaining enough momentum to both break Glynda's hold on the back of her head, and headbutt her with the back of her skull in the same motion. It hurt her quite a bit, certainly, but she imagined that her opponent couldn't have enjoyed that, either.

They continued to gain altitude, and some part of Cinder realized that sooner or later, they were going to end up in Ozpin's office, the location she'd originally thought to, during the attack she'd been planning, check for the Relic of Choice. The universe must've thought itself terribly amusing to push her there now, to make all of this to happen, even despite her wishes.

The two of them exploded out of the elevator shaft some ten seconds later; the both of them sprawled out on the floor of the headmaster's office for a moment. Cinder panted for breath, having exerted herself quite a bit with the full might of the Maiden's fire, especially given that she'd only just received it. On the other hand, Cinder imagined that Glynda couldn't have much more fight left in her. To even push her this far was impressive, for she'd not thought even Ozpin himself could manage such a thing.

And yet, Glynda rose, panting like her, yes, but somehow still going. She looked up at Cinder, met her gaze, and then, with a shuddering breath, she shouted at her.

"Was all of this just… just to get the Maiden's power!?" She screamed, even as some of the residual fires of their explosion into the room began to eat away at the room they were in. "Amber, Ozpin, so many other people, all for what!?"

Cinder couldn't think of anything to say to that. It was all she could do to keep her mouth shut, to draw Midnight up and into her hands, and to stand herself, matching Glynda's posture.

And she watched as the woman across from her shook.

"…You work for her, don't you?" Glynda shook her head, as if still not wanting to believe such a thing. "For Salem."

Cinder felt her lips purse, but stay tightly closed.

"Say something!" Glynda screamed at her, her eyes red and veiny. She looked almost deranged, entirely unlike Cinder had ever seen her as she took a step forward. "Damnit, Cinder, say something! Tell me I'm wrong! Tell me this isn't what it looks like, just fucking talk to me!"

…What was she supposed to say? What could she say!?

She swallowed on nothing, trying to bring some faint moisture to her barren throat. It felt so foreign, to hear Glynda Goodwitch speak in such a way. She'd always been so controlled, so elegant, so conscientious, and now, it was as if all of those things had been stripped away from her.

And Cinder was to blame, wasn't she?

She had to say something. Like Glynda had said, something. Just… anything.

"…I do." Her voice rang, and she regretted it the moment she'd said it, even as she kept talking. "I work for Salem."

And Glynda's eyes seemed to die, then. As if the verdant shade of emerald they'd always been just faded away, and was replaced by that same sullen, grayish color that seemed to affect everything else that Cinder ever touched.

Just ash.

Just cinders.

And then the fight began again.

Some part of her still expected Glynda to show restraint, then. The elegance and control that had always seemed to hang about her so easy, so perfectly, that it was as if she had made those words. As if the two had taken one look at her, and found definition.

And yet, as Glynda charged at her, and Cinder dodged, she growled as she slammed a hand into the ground.

Ozpin's desk rose into the air. Papers, pens, pencils, a bottle of ink, a plaque with Ozpin's name on it, a sign that said "World's #1 Teacher" on it, an empty mug, and half of the shelves in it hit the floor as she swung the entire desk at Cinder.

Cinder hissed as she hit it with a jet of fire, and then, what felt like a moment too late, realized that setting a few-hundred-pound desk on fire as it rocketed towards her was not doing her any favors.

She narrowly managed to get beneath the thing as it sailed over her head by going prone on the ground, but a moment later, when the desk struck the wall just behind her, it did so with a tremendous force, easily enough to punch a hole straight through it, sending pieces of plaster and wood and whatever metals the window frames had been made up of scattering towards Remnant below.

Cinder pushed herself up into a run, going straight at Glynda once again. She couldn't… she couldn't let this drag on. Not now. Not… not when–

I trusted you!

It was a momentary lapse that resulted from hearing those words cross through her mind, and yet, it was enough for Glynda to step into her guard, and smash Ozpin's cane into her stomach. The air evacuated her lungs in time for her to see herself get pelted across the face with the weapon a second later, sailing back towards where the hole had been and teetering dangerously close to the edge.

And yet, as she wobbled at that edge, as she came dramatically close to falling, it was to see Glynda's eyes widen, to see her hand reach out as if to grasp her, as if to try and help her, even after everything.

And then Cinder shot fire from her hands, giving her the necessary lift to push herself up, and back into the 'office', if it could still be called that, burning, and broken as it was.

Once more, the two of them could only stare at one another. Glynda seemed to almost glare down at the hand that had reached out to her, as if it had committed some sin that the rest of her were not also guilty of. And then, she forced herself forward yet again.

Cinder's heart was numb.

She deflected the initial blow with Midnight, knocking it off course by the smallest amount, enough to divert the cane so it flew over her shoulder. She was left quite surprised when Glynda brought that same arm down, slamming it into the top of Cinder's shoulder and causing her to let out a gasp of pain. It was almost humorous, in a terrible sort of way, that she would fall for such an attack. It was one she herself employed; had employed even at this very school. It had been a maneuver that she had utilized in her very first spar against Pyrrha Nikos, when she'd been trying simply to analyze her semblance.

Oh, how much simpler things had been, all that time ago. When her biggest concerns had only been the burning of this school, of this world, of everything that could ever hope to threaten her in any way. And now…

She broke away from Glynda, trying to buy herself some space, and was almost caught off guard by the way that she closed that distance in a millisecond. She formed an obsidian disk, using it like a shield against Glynda's leg rocketing towards the side of her head. It served well enough, even if it shattered on the second hit that connected with it.

Glynda was, somehow, matching Cinder. Matching her even with the Maiden's power.

She'd known the woman was good. Had from the very moment they'd first fought. From the very moment that she'd dueled her inside of that bullhead, going to pick up Roman from some idiotic dust shop failure. She'd managed to counter so very many of Cinder's movements, turning them around to a degree that she'd needed to distract her to buy them a moment to escape.

But to think she was… this good.

Or perhaps it was merely the moment itself. Perhaps it was the fact that Cinder was who she was. The betrayal, the rage and fury and agony coursing through her, that let her push herself beyond her limits.

Cinder would know. Similar things were fueling her now.

A flurry of blows that would've left even the most experienced of hunters dizzy flashed between the two of them next, cane and blade and spear and crop and shield meeting and breaking and meeting again in some sick, twisted waltz. Again, Cinder's mind was called back to the time they'd spent dancing together, how horrible she'd been at it, how Glynda had helped her through it, giving her little tips as she held her in her arms, so warm, so comforting, so–

Shut up! Some part of her demanded, but it did so with a shaky, desperate voice. Stop it!

On one particular volley, a fireball Cinder had conjured to try and end the fight sailed over Glynda's head instead, and annihilated another section of the wall. There was an ominous creaking, then, and without any further delay, a piece of the ceiling above them caved in.

Both Cinder and Glynda were fast enough to dodge outside of the room before a good half of it could collapse, jumping out of the twin holes that each of them had created. Cinder hovered in the air via the Maiden's flames, and Glynda stood atop one of her glyphs. They were the both of them panting, staring at each other.

And Glynda could only shake her head, watching as more and more pieces of the headmaster's office crumpled to Remnant below.

"I trusted you! I…" Glynda's bottom lip quivered. "Everything I was I gave to you!"

Cinder clenched her teeth hard enough that she swore they cracked as she deflected the massive stone the woman had chucked at her, feeling the weight of it tear at her muscles as she forced them to fight on. She watched Glynda hop from one glyph to another, somehow always finding the strength to summon another as she ripped up more and more pieces of Ozpin's office and sent them hurtling towards her.

"Everything! And you…"

The woman let out a noise then that was so guttural, so horribly unutterable, that Cinder felt in her heart that such a thing had not been meant for any to hear. It had been an instinct. A feeling. It was an emotion brought to life, given voice. It was what lurked in the woman's heart. It was her pain, and sorrow, and grief. It was, as she said…

Everything.

And all Cinder could do was fight through hearing it. Despite hearing it.

She parried, and bowed, but never broke. She used every single ability in her repertoire. She was a wildfire in a dense, dry forest; unstoppable, uncontrollable, untenable. And yet somehow, someway, Glynda still fought against her. She, too, parried. She too bowed, but did not break. At one point they both swung in the same moment, and their fists connected with one another in the space between them. Cinder's entire body rattled, and she clenched her jaw tightly, even as she jumped away from Glynda, giving herself some distance, and some time to study their surroundings, even as her arm throbbed.

They were back within Ozpin's office now, neither of them having the energy to keep up their bout of 'flying'. It had been utterly decimated. Most of the roof was missing. Air flowed in from the outside freely, and she felt it as it tousled her hair, as it brought further life to the fires blazing all around them. Cinder had always felt more at ease around flame, and yet now it somehow felt so cold; almost frigid.

Off in the distance, nevermore and griffins swarmed the skies like insects, blanketing the night sky with movement. Their calls resounded through the night, creating a horrible, murky backdrop to all of this that only left her feeling more unsettled. At the very least, there was no sign of the Wyvern. She hoped it would just… just not show. Surely, the universe could grant her that, at least?

She couldn't help thinking that the universe might bring it out now, only to spite her.

"Why!?" Glynda screamed at her, shaking her head as she took a solitary step forward. "Why would you serve Salem!? Why would you choose to serve someone so demented – so twisted and wrong!?"

It was a fair question, in all honesty. Why would anyone willingly serve the woman actively trying to wipe out all life on Remnant, and rebuild the world in her image afterwards. Some might be attracted to that latter ideal. The idea that they could have the next world all to themselves. To rule as an enforcer of its next god. But that had never meant much to Cinder. Not really.

The truth was…

"It was never a choice."

Glynda's expression was agonized, and yet some small confusion did play about it in that moment. She seemed to want to ask more of her, to say something else, but she couldn't quite manage it. Instead, Glynda just shook her head, and then activated her semblance once more. Cinder braced herself as the large cogs inside of Ozpin's back wall and floor were hurled towards her, breaking from their glass containment, and their fight continued onwards.

She had no real concept of how long it was that the two of them fought for. After a certain point the entire world seemed to only grow hazy, and dull, and numb. She could not truly comprehend anything beyond that she wished this had not happened. That she wished above all else that things could've been simple, and clean, and easy, as they had never once been for her. Perhaps some part of her, even, realized that maybe, just maybe, in another world, in another time, she would've gladly sacrificed who she was, this power in her breast, in order to stay here with her.

Glynda made her feel things that no one else ever had. That she was sure, beyond all else, that no one else ever would again. She had accepted that the night they'd slept together. That it was an experience she would have only the once, and that she should savor it, for she would not get the chance again.

And yet now…

Now she felt she could've carved the Grimm parasite from out of her body, could've ripped it out of her own chest, and left the wound bare, and bloody, and open, if she thought she might have but one more night with her. That she might find Salem and attempt to excise her herself – even knowing the truth, that she could not die – just to see Glynda's smile, and hear her whisper in her ear that it was all going to be okay.

But that was not this world. It had never been this world. Cinder Fall had never once existed within a world that would allow such retribution, that would allow such a redemptive act. It would not allow her to act as herself. It had, after all, made her destiny quite clear.

It had slain Cinder in the snow that day, and left her behind. It had killed that girl who wanted for nothing but the warmth she could not feel, and in her place had risen Fall, an agent to the queen of the Grimm. And she hadn't even looked back. Hadn't even waited for the body to cool that day as she followed behind her new master like a dog on a leash. No. She'd left herself behind.

And now, here they both were. Herself and Fall. Somehow together.

And what did they have now? The same as they'd always had.

Nothing.

It was with a deadened heart that Cinder utilized more of the Maiden's fire, the flames burning somehow cooler, going from a raging orange to a sunset red. And yet, they were enough for her. she pointed her hands at Glynda's form, and, with a roar, unleashed them.

There was no further elegance. There was no strategy. It was raw power against raw power. Glynda hurled entire sections of earth at her, and she seared away with the Maiden's flames. Glynda poured dust into her glyphs, utilizing ice and lightning and wind, and Cinder fought it all with hellfire. The entirety of their surroundings burned, and yet neither of them seemed to be willing to aim for the jugular. Neither of them was willing to truly kill the other.

Somehow that made everything worse.

Their mercies only dragged the fight out further, until it felt like it might go on forever, despite every bit of logic within her telling Cinder that there was no possibility for that. She had to win. There wasn't an option. A part of Fall seemed to scream at her to stop holding back, to stop going for shots without the intent to kill, but in some last-ditch effort, Cinder smothered that little bit of herself, and left it barely breathing in a solitary corner of her mind.

In the end, it came down to one, final, solitary clash. Glynda, panting as her aura sparked along her form, and Cinder, breathing literal flame out of her teeth as she wiped away at her bloodied lips, both drew their weapons. Cinder drew Midnight into both of her hands, wreathing them in an arcane flame, and Glynda drew up both Ozpin's cane and her own riding crop, taking a stance similar to Cinder's own.

And then they blitzed forward.

There was a small moment then, as the two of them careened towards one another at a speed that defied all logic. She could tell that it passed by the both of them. For as Cinder's posture shifted, so that her blow would strike lower, safer, so too did Glynda. Neither aimed for the heart. Neither aimed to end the battle.

And then, in a bid of rebellion, Fall corrected for that.

Cinder struck true with eyes as wide as saucers. Glynda's aura shattered, and she coughed violently as she struck the floor of what had once been Ozpin's office, the man's cane spinning out of her hand and out of one of the gaps that their fight had created, falling off of the tower and into the courtyards below. She still held her riding crop, but even that was a weak thing, like she held it more for comfort than for any fight.

And Cinder's aura cracked. It nearly gave…

But it held nonetheless.

And it was over. Cinder understood that as she stood in the middle of Ozpin's office, looking over at Glynda, who was down on her knees, supporting herself with her arms. Her form shook with every breath, seeming desperate to try and take ahold of as much oxygen as she could.

And Cinder couldn't move. She was rooted to the spot just… watching her. It was all she could do to allow the twin blades of Midnight to fall from both of her hands, to crack and shatter upon the floor beneath her. She would've sought to join them, were she in a better state, but she could not.

Weakness would not behoove her now. She had to be strong, didn't she?

So why couldn't she move!?

"Was it…" The voice cut into her internal ramblings, and somehow, someway, Glynda managed to force herself onto one knee, energy still residing within her. "Was it all just…"

Glynda took a harsh breath through her teeth, then, the sound of it like the hushing of a mother, trying to soothe a child to sleep. She stood, her form bowing, and shaking, and yet not falling as she looked over at her with tears in her eyes.

"Was it all just a lie!?" Her earlier composure, the way she had faced her with naught but steel in her gaze, was gone now, her screams filled with fury, yes, but…

But sorrow most of all.

True, raw heartbreak.

"Did you… was it all just a game to you!? Just a way to trick me, to earn my–" another word had almost slipped out of her, caught at the last possible moment, that Cinder tried so desperately not to hear. "My trust so you could spit on it like this!? You and Ozpin both, playing with my feelings, my emotions, like I'm some pawn on a chess board between you!?"

Ice filled her chest. It seemed to spread throughout her, as if she was back within the blizzards of Atlas once more. Freezing and clawing for any shred of warmth, the tiniest hint of it, that she might live just one more second. And just the same as it had, then, Fall came to her. and it offered to help her. It offered a solution, a way out of this for the both of them.

This is our chance. This is our moment. Fall told her. We can break the woman across from us with nary a word. All we have to do is confirm what she already thinks she knows.

And Cinder just… stood there.

"Why!?" Glynda shouted, and tears began to streak down her face as she shook with rage and sorrow both. She fell to her knees again, as if the last bit of fight had left her, and she was left with only grief now. "Why!? For fun!? Just to toy with me!?"

Say it. Fall demanded. Say that she's right. Say that you've always planned for this. That at every step, at every moment, this had been the finale. And she's only just realized that now.

Fall's voice sounded so simpering in her ear. So overwhelmingly pleased. As if this would confirm everything it had ever known about her. Perhaps she was losing it, somewhat, to hear its voice now, to hear that part of her that she'd become speak inside her mind, but in that moment, it was all she could do to hear it, and realize that she had no better option. Not really.

Because she was Cinder Fall. She'd always been, and would always be, Cinder Fall. Never once had she ever had a say in that.

She felt cold. She felt so, so cold.

Colder than she had that day, freezing to death. Colder than she had in the Madame's supply closet, pulling the unclean blankets up around her. Colder than she had been when she'd awoken that night, panicked, having remembered it all in a horrible dream, and then Glynda had held her, and whispered in her ear that–

NO! Fall raged. This is your defining moment! This is your victory! We will return to Salem victorious! We will return to her having successfully broken Beacon, Vale, the very world of Remnant itself! Think of how proud she will be! Think of how much we will have done for her!

…Fall was right. Salem would be quite pleased with her for all of this, wouldn't she? She'd likely help her to master the Fall Maiden's power, and she could truly become one with the power she'd always sought. That which was her destiny.

She would tell her that she was proud of her.

Yes. Of course. That… that was what she'd always wanted.

So it was simple, then. If she was going to go back to being Cinder Fall, she had to do this. If she was going to be Cinder Fall, then she had to turn to Glynda Goodwitch, and she had to make the woman realize that she meant nothing to her. That she'd only ever been a pawn in Cinder's grand scheme, just a means to an end.

So she forced herself to plaster a smile across her lips. She forced herself to draw her eyelids down as if immensely pleased with herself. She forced herself to take a confident stance, as if she were fully in control.

She forced herself to forget that all she wanted was–

"Hah…"

Cinder made herself out to sound confident, to sound assured, as she stared Glynda in the eye. As the woman before her broke, as her heart shattered, as she realized what a fool she'd been to trust her. To trust Cinder Fall. To bring her close, and embrace her, and think her something that wasn't broken beyond all repair. To think she was a glass that could still be drank from.

"And you're only just realizing tha–"

And then she froze, as did Glynda from her place on the ground across from her. She was staring at her, her eyes as wide as saucers, her breath caught, and her face pale. And Cinder could say nothing, do nothing, even as the offending liquid traced a small path down her cheek, coming to a stop at the bottom of her chin. Even as it fell, striking the ground below a second later.

She was crying.

It was a surprise, and not because she was feeling nothing. No… no, her heart wanted to claw its way out of her chest, her whole being was as ice, and her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

But… she'd simply not thought herself capable of crying.

Her? A monster in all but name?

Crying over lost love?

She felt herself breaking, even as she tried to rage against the feeling within her, to burn it away like she had everything else. And yet no, it was stronger than Fall. It was stronger than that violent, egotistical being within her that had once been all of her. It somehow managed to eclipse that voice inside her head that screamed at her to take control back.

And all it did was make her let out a quiet sob.

"Cinder…" Glynda spoke under her breath, still laid there across from her with an inexplicable expression upon her face. "You…"

She couldn't. She simply couldn't. Not here. Not like this. She couldn't break. There would… she could…

She was breathing hard and heavy. Everything was splintering, fragmenting into a thousand different pieces, and she had to do something, she knew that, but what could she do, how could she counter this!? This was…

She was unable to even quantify it. She'd never once felt something like this. This horrid agony wrenching her entire being asunder.

She… she wanted–

Arms around her that make her feel so very strong. A voice in her ear that makes her feel unendingly loved. A body beside hers that seems to slot in perfectly, as if she's always been there, somehow, as if she's been missing this entire time, a puzzle missing a piece, and she's only just–

And then she heard the bells again. Chiming and ringing with a somber tone. And they reminded her of something simple. Something easy, and quick, and painless. Something that she'd been so very good at for her entire life.

She could run.

And it was like the clouds above her parted. It was as if a single sunbeam pierced through the gray endlessness, and she could finally breathe again. And she ignored the agonized screams of Cinder within her, the terrible rage of Fall clawing within her breast, and she even ignored the way that Glynda had reached out a hand to her.

She had to. If she did not… then she did not know what she would become.

She'd already won. She… she had everything she needed already. The Maiden's power was hers. She'd never cared about the Relic anyways.

So, she did the only thing she could, what she'd always done. What was always so very easy for her…

She ran.

And as she leapt from the top of Ozpin's tower, as she began to fall freely towards the grounds of Beacon below her, she did her best to ignore the sounds of shouting that called out from behind her, the final word that had been cast from heaven's gates.

"CINDER!"

She ran from that, too. Until she could not hear it. Back to hell she would run, like the demon that she was, until it could not hound her so.

Even if she knew, deep down, that she would hear it evermore.

End Chapter 48

I saw some people saying that this story might end soon, so I wanted to clarify that no, the stories not actually ending soon. We've got like a whole 'nother arc coming. Probably another fifteen-twenty chapters still.

Going to - in advance - say that I might take some time off this story after posting Chapter 50, and take some time to focus on my own writing. I've actually finished the first draft of my book - as of current times, its absolutely dreadful, but that's kind of how first draft's work lol - and am letting some people read that so I can get feedback before going in and continuing work.

Anyways, see you all next week!