Ruby IX

We came upon a small contraption that dispensed medicine, fixed tight to the wall. Blake grabbed the lever, "you're out of your mind, do you know that? You and a dull goose probably have an equal measure of cunning!" She snatched the medicine and fed it to me. I forced it down, even swallowing hurt. She and Yang had found me crawling to the field where the duel was scheduled to happen. When they first found me they were scared. Then I told them how I came to be in such sorry shape. That made them mad. Though being clasped in Blake's embrace was so nice that I cared naught. I could wither the knife-like glean of her scowl so long as I had her arms around me. Even as it felt like my grasp would slip from consciousness' handle and become bruised against its pommel, I cared naught because she was with me. She and my sister, yes, even at my weakest I felt invincible when they were with me.

It was a strong medicine they gave me. Indeed, it felt like I had traded my dizzy pain for another kind of delirium. My vision was still not straight and the two of them noticed. "Ruby! Talk to me! For the love of god keep your grip on things. This is no time for dying!" Blake urged.

"I'm not dying. Don't say foolish things like that," I wanned, putting my hand in hers.

"Passed out in a pool of your own blood and pale as a ghost, that sounds like dying to me you damn fool!"

"Blake, easy. She's lost a lot of blood. We can't be yelling at her right now," Yang interjected. It certainly felt as though I had lost a considerable amount of blood. Frankly, I was impressed with myself for making it as far as I did. I mean, walking all the way to the steps of Beacon Academy while trailing a torrent of thick blood behind me. They would have to weave that into the songs about me for certain, Ruby Rose and the red river that ran for a mile. Brilliant!

"Akghhh!" I wheezed, coughing up dark globs of something vile; glad to have it out of my body, but scared of what it meant, I asked, "Please, speak plainly, will I live?" I was not sure who exactly I had posed the question to. It felt more like a plea that had been thrown haphazardly to the room than a pointed question. It all felt so blurry. The only things I could make out were those faces which were closest to me. Blake came close to me and said, "Yes, certainly, you will live. Don't entertain death and instead choose life,"

"Aye, you'll come through on the other side. You'll pull through, the wounds will heal, and when they do this will all be a funny memory. You hear me?" Yang said

"Uh-" I groaned, half stammering

"I need to hear you say it, Ruby. Tell me you hear me. That's all I want right now,"

"I-I hear you. This will all be fine,"

"Yes," She smiled, betraying her distress, "You're strong. If anyone can make it it's you." That's when the situation took a turn for the worse. My vision, already tired and foggy, grew more dim. Whatsmore, I could hardly focus on what was being said. I heard only faint snatches of their conversation. They shrieked my name and I only groaned in response. Their calls grew more frantic and my responses steadily distant. Focusing was a tremendous effort. A few of the snippets I made out: "should have never gave her that," "frostbite," "dead," they all hit my ears, muffled and of unknown origin. Mother, if I died would I dream of you? Would they be the sweet kind of dreams where I made you proud and looked after you into an honorable and advanced age; a dream wherein my legs would become your own and proceed to walk when you could no longer? Water and salt welled in my eyes at the thought. I wanted nothing more than to see you again.

A sinking feeling came about me, whatever had tethered me to the mortal coil came loose and my hands were no more free to grasp onto it again. First it burned, then it stung with cold, and finally it felt like nothing. Oh, that was the terrible part and I would not stand anyone who tried to tell me otherwise because they were surely virgins to the sensation. Pain was one thing, pleasure another, but the absence of not only those two feelings but also the range of experiences that made their roost betwixt them was a unique terror unto itself. It was the mark of death. Left without touch, taste, and smell; without sight and hearing I let the numbness overtake me. Oh, how I would have loved to say that I fought it, that I raged against the dark which threatened to swallow me whole. There were many hunters who would have called me a coward for succumbing so quickly and to them I had nothing to offer but a gesture towards oblivion. If it were so easy to fight then, by all means, they too should have endeavored to rage against death.

"Fall down on your swords, you cowards!" I commanded with all the force of a death rattle. Were my opponent to be as easily routed as the others then I would have bested this fearsome creature one thousand times over. Oh, how I wished that my enemy could be felled by a gunshot or a blade. Though in that moment I cared nought whether history would view me favorably because I knew that my last moments were spent perfectly.

"Come on, get up," The voice of a man urged me. Air filled my lungs again and I gasped. The sharpness of the air in my chest poked me back from the brink. Yang was there, so was Blake, and with my fresh vision I saw yet another face, one that made my heart sink. Tyrion was there along with my team and I surmised that he was somehow responsible for bringing me back. "Sweet, sanguine flower, rise again if you would. Now is not your time to be plucked from the bush," He said, lending me a hand.

"Get away from her!" Blake yanked me away from him, "What did you do just now?"

"I saved her,"

"Don't play games with me, Bug. I know that. I want to know how you did it,"

"A magician never reveals his secrets," He shushed. Blake began to draw her sword. "Careful now, you might hurt someone. Wouldn't want the headmaster to find out that you put a man in the ground now would we?"

"Tyrion, at this point I don't care,"

"Oh," Tyrion jumped a bit at Blake's declaration. Though I appreciated her willingness to come to my defense, now was not the time for Tyrion to die. Though the possibility of him not being responsible for my mother's death grew slimmer by the day, there was, in fact, still a possibility that he was innocent. Regrettably, I did not know Blake very well at the time. Of the little I did know about her I could say for certain that her threats were not to be taken lightly. It was paramount that Tyrian be kept alive until I got answers out of him. He likely had co-conspirators. Mind you, Summer was the greatest hunter in recorded history. Her skills rivaled the legendary feats of the pre-diluvian period. In fact, such feats had been largely discredited, believed to be mostly fictitious, until my mother demonstrated them to be possible. Her control over aura was uniquely deadly among hunters. She was able to use it to directly attack the souls of other people, often destroying their sense of self and leaving them a drooling mess. She often used this to dispense with particularly deadly foes. So, the idea that Tyrian could defeat her on his own was ludicrous, at least based on what I knew. In order to bring him justice, to avenge my mother, I had to kill all of them.

"Hear him out," I groaned softly, "Listen to what he has to say,"

"You can't be serious, Ruby!" Blake shouted.

"Let him talk," Yang said, "He saved her life. It could be useful to know how he did it,"

"Thank you, thank you, finally someone starts using their head. It's all rather complicated so I'll just give you a truncated version of it. I assume you all know about the properties of aura?" He asked

"It strengthens the body," Yang said, "Makes it more resilient,"

"Yes, what else?"

"It acts as the fuel for semblances, a fuel for the supernatural."

"Correct, what else?"

"I know where this is going, just cut to the chase. A person's body can use aura to do all manner of fantastic things, but when you give your aura to another it only serves one purpose: healing," Blake stressed, tired. She took the reins of the conversation away from Yang, perhaps fearing that her friendship with Tyrion would prevent her from questioning him to the fullest extent.

"Right on all fronts. I suppose you don't need me anymore seeing as you've already figured it out," Tyrion began to walk away.

"Don't!" Blake ordered, raising her sword and pointed it his way, "You still have a lot to answer for. Ruby was on death's door, She had stopped breathing, but you somehow brought her back to life! Regular aura can't do that!"

"Blake, stop! Threatening him won't get us anywhere," said Yang

"As if you're doing any better. After you're done anointing his feet in oils, perhaps you'll give each toe a kiss? Maybe then he'll give you a hint as to what's really going on," She responded.

Yang looked stunned, "Where is all this venom coming from?"

"Ask the scorpion," Blake growled, tightening her grip on Gambol Shroud.

"What did I do?" Tyrion asked with a smirk, "I was only trying to help,"

"Not another word,"

"First you want answers, now you want me to shut up. Make up your mind," Tyrion groaned and Blake fired a shot at his head. He cocked his head slightly and dodged it. A great silence came about the room. All I could hear was the sound of Blake's heart racing with my head against her chest. Tyrion started to walk away and neither Blake or Yang had anything to say, I suppose there was nothing left to be said. He spoke once more though, after making it halfway down the hall, "I could beat the two of you ten times over and not even be tired. I won't be intimidated by empty threats. If that's all you have to say I'll be going now!" Tyrion kept walking and my team hesitated. Blakes sword trembled in her grasp. Was he bluffing? His aura said that he was not. I could see it. I don't know how, but I was able to observe his aura in its base state with my bare eyes and it looked calm as still water. It was then that I began to put it all together,

"This has something to do with the silver eyes doesn't it, Tyrion?" His eyes glimmered at my question.

"Looks like someone didn't skip Glynda's math lecture. I'm glad you can put two and two together," He postured

"With the power of your silver eyes, you healed me. How?"

"Let's just say that you and I are different. When your friends gave you their aura it bought you hardly a minute of consciousness, correct? That's because when people without the sight use that technique it's far less effective. Suffice it to say that you and I are natural born healers, what luck!"

"Wait! There's so much you haven't told us!"

"If you want to know more then come and find me," He trapsed off down some hallway and out of our sight. Yang lowered her gun but Blake still held her sword up and at arm's length. It was much more still now, only moving up and down slightly with her breaths.

Putting my hand on her wrist I said, "Be still, Blake. We're alright." My legs felt right again and I stood up on my own. "Where are we exactly?" I asked.

"Near the entrance," Yang said "The snowstorm has forced most of the students to stay in their rooms, so things are a bit empty." She was certainly right about that because the only people in the entire hallway were just the three of us. On any other day the halls would have been filled with students going about their business, especially the hallway nearest the entrance. In contrast, now you could hear the sound of a pen drop with the clarity and resonant presence of a gunshot. In fact, I dropped a pen from my pocket onto the ground just to prove that point.

"You know when they say 'you could hear a pen drop' that saying is referring to a sewing needle, not an ink pen, right?" Blake said, dryly

"I knew that. Why do you assume I drop pens for the sake of old idioms?"

"No reason," She chuckled. Clearly one member of team RWBY was happy to have me back, regardless of the circumstances. Yang was strangely quiet though.

"Something wrong, sister? Aren't you happy to have me back?"

"You were dead, Ruby. Seconds ago you were dead, your lifeless body laying only a few inches away from me, and now you're making jokes as though nothing happened!

"Aye, that's because nothing happened. Tyrion brought me back from the brink of death with his silver eyes and since I have the same power I'll eventually be able to do that to myself, whenever the need arises. I should be able to do the same thing to any of you for that matter,"

"You don't know that! How do you know that your abilities will develop in the same way as his?"

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," I walked over to the machine and pointed at it, "Is this what you gave me?"

"It is," Blake answered.

"You gave blood thinners to someone who was bleeding out?" I asked in disbelief. The two of them recoiled a bit at the realization and were quick to apologize. We still had a lot to learn not just as individuals but as a team as well. "it's not like it really matters now," I started making my way down the hall.

"Where are you going?"

"Cardin. Our duel is still on, is it not?" When I said that their jaws dropped. Yang grabbed my hand,

"Do you want to die again?"

"Will you be the one to kill me?"

"No, dear sister, but Cardin might!"

"He would never do such a thing, not on school grounds at least," I kept walking and the two of them followed. After Tyrion healed me I felt even stronger than I had before. The new vitality that flowed through me would surely be more than enough to beat Cardin. "We'll be there in five minutes. If you're as scared for my safety as you say you are, you have until then to convince me to bow out," I said. Oh, and believe me when I say they tried. The whole walk to the practice field was filled with nothing but doom and gloom. Yang went on and on about how dangerous it was. She told our father would be worried out of his mind if he knew I was doing something like this, and about how it wasn't necessary for me to even engage with a buffoon like Cardin.

"If he ever causes problems for you," she said "You can just leave him to me. I can handle him!" I could not abide by that though. I could not allow my older sister to fight my battles for me. We kept walking and arrived before long. I saw him there in all of his supposed glory. Cardin stood there, still as stone, in the snow with his arms crossed. Bits of snow had accumulated on his head and shoulders. One of his lackeys, this one short and stout, brushed the snow off of him with a bundle of herbs and straw. He had ostensibly been doing this for quite some time. I looked around and a good crowd had gathered to see our fight. They numbered around 40 people and I recognized several familiar faces: Jaune and Pyrrha of team JNPR, Velvet of team CFVY, a pretty girl with long dark hair who I had seen around the halls on a few occasions, and Professor Port in a motley disguise that most saw right through.

A murder of crows formed a dark ring above the courtyard, their discordant caws audible over the crowd's incessant chatter. I came forward and my approach brought a silence about the crowd. Cardin was the first one to speak,

"Hi there, little girl. Are you lost? Looking for your mother?" He taunted

"Steady talking, but somehow never saying anything. Do you ever shut up, Cardin? Let's be done with this and skip to what we came here for," I shouted from across the court. He looked upset, hurt somehow. Perhaps all of his previous opponents had indulged him in a bit of banter before their fights. Make no mistake, I enjoy a bit of pre-fight banter as much as anyone else. Bold proclamations, affirming oaths long since kept, and declarations of intent were the backbone of any meaningful confrontation. Metal must meet metal, steel must sharpen steel, and the conflicts that stir in the hearts of men must be made manifest! Words are integral to that process. Without first making clear the feelings inside one's chest there is very little reason to fight. What separates beasts from men are the reasons behind the conflicts between them. I had come to settle the matter of Cardin's misplaced arrogance. Barring that I don't think I would have even taken the time to remember his name. However, I didn't see much point in talking to him at the time. I had heard enough of those arrogant Spriggans talking about how inferior the rest of us were. He could not, realistically speaking, have anything new to say to me. I drew my weapon, "Are you ready?"

"I'll make you regret ever coming here," He snarled. He readied the golden pole that hung from his hip and a dozen broad, heavy blades sprouted from the end of it. The blades formed the head of an absolutely massive mace. He raised it high, the weapon crackled, and he struck the ground with it. Thunder and lightning flew from the weapon. All of the snow on the ground turned to mist. I couldn't see anything. All I could make out was the resounding rumble of his stomps as he charged at me.