There were many words in the language man had spoken to describe my point:
That although everything has an opposite, those can only be labeled as such in the sense that you could relate and contrast them by some means.
Left and Right are opposites, yet they both remain directions.
Good and Bad are opposites, yet either could be applied to a situation, that's all a matter of perspective.
Now, what makes a person the opposite of who they are?
Do they even remain as themselves when their lives have been altered?
Or are they just pale reflections of the originals, distorted by a wonderfully twisted glass mirror?
-???
Under the full moon on the southwest part of the continent of Danal, in the Kingdom city of Vila, a small shop had just so happened to be opened this late at night, and there were a few people taking advantage of its late hours to commit a robbery, and then one of the criminals tapped on the shoulder of a unaware young girl wearing a red hood who had been browsing magazines while listening to music.
Glynda Goodwitch, unofficial headmistress of Bastion Academy for Hunters, walked up to a holding cell. Within this holding cell, sat a bored girl. "Ruby Rose?" Glynda asked with a chipper smile.
"Yes ma'am?" The young rose replied calmly.
"You've done quite the job tonight, eight people sent to the hospital, three in critical condition, one confirmed death, a shop destroyed, and you didn't even catch Neo Mint. Those are some serious charges." Glynda cheerfully read off a from a small black book, which had contained some sort of record of the events.
"Self-defense." The rose claimed.
"Ah, yes, self-defense. It's a shame no one will buy that." She said gleefully.
"Ms. Goodwitch, my uncle has informed me on just how well the laws don't work around here, and who is really in charge, so with all due respect, get to the fucking point already; I rather not wake up sober in here."
"Do you want to attend Bastion Academy?"
"Fuck no."
"Too bad."
"And that's why I'm here." Ruby finished telling her story to her elder half-sister, Yang Branwen.
"I am so thrilled you are coming to Bastion with me!" Yang practically squealed.
"Yeah well, it's a big school, we might not even see each other." Ruby said as she stared out of a window of the stationary airship she had found herself in.
"What!? No! We have to stick together, that's a family rule. 'When going someplace new, stay near family, or someone expendable, Qrow qualifies for both.' Mom drilled that rule into me, mainly 'cuz I kept wandering off and ditching my guards at the camps or villages we visited most of the time."
"How is Raven nowadays?"
"Great! She's still searching for our bastard of a father, and our Tribe is doing swell, just last week I got to lead a raid on another group of Bandits. And, you probably noticed something different about me... Like a new something... Something pretty cool... And sharp..." Yang trailed off, hinting at something.
"Oh, did you do something to your hair? 'Cuz it looks like you did something to your ha-"
"I got the sword!" Yang shouted, drawing out a plain ōdachi from a sheath on her right hip, and holding it out to the light.
"I finally got It! I was this close to not getting it in time for Bastion, but I did! I had to work extra hard." Yang said, and continued in a more somber tone. "I know it's not cool like your Full Blossom, Crescent Rose or your Silver Thorns, or anything. To me though, it's a symbol of strength, a validation of my growth. In our Tribe, you take what you want, but only if you've earned it. It's confusing, I know, but to me it makes sense. Mom thought I earned this, that's what makes it special, I don't need some mechanical shifting weapon of mass destruction, because I'm strong, and I'm skilled. That's why I'll fight with this, no more just punching things till they fall." Yang finished and put her weapon away.
"Hmm? That's right, Raven doesn't let us use actual weapons during raids. I remember when she took Crescent Rose away from me when I visited. Wanna spar later?"
"Really!? Heck yeah! Better prepare to lose, Ruby! I'm gonna wipe the floor with you!"
"Yeah, sure you will Yang. Sure you will."
Jaune Arc wasn't happy.
Standing amongst the rest of the competi- no - peers. Amongst his peers, he was ignoring the whispers his presence always brought, he was -as his old handmaid had said he did from time to time- brooding. He never quite understood why she said that. Sometimes he was just lost in thought, in company he was only to speak if spoken to, it wasn't his fault that his resting face came off an unwelcoming.
Not that it was important anyways. No one would ever willingly talk to him.
He was trained by the best Vila had to offer for combat since before he could talk, he was trained to follow orders, he never complained, never disobeyed, he always excelled at every task given to him. He won every match that mattered, be it a exhibition or tournament match. And yet here he was, on a airship, armed with a relic of the past, and enrolled in Bastion Academy for Hunters. No, not enrolled, Sold.
His parents sold him to the Vila's Council, and then Bastion commandeered him for the War Against Grimm.
'Bullshit.'
He was sold by his family, told to uphold the Arc Name, and on paper he had volunteered to protect the kingdom.
Uphold The Arc Honor.
Respect The Name.
Preserve The Legacy.
That was the mantra he grew up with, everything he has he owes to his Name, so it was his duty to be worthy of it.
War Heroes, that's what the Name was built upon. Violence. Murder. Death. Destruction. And what has his Family done since the Name was made? They've fought. Warriors, that's what the Arcs were. They obeyed the Council. When told to fight, they fight. When told to kill, they kill. When told to love, they love. When told to die, they die.
Even him.
When he was fourteen, he got married, and his wife was killed, so he killed her assassin. All of it was orchestrated by the Council, except for the last part, he was also supposed to have die.
For being the child of an affair, his mother hated him. For being the only son, most of his sisters hated him.
In public and on papers everything was perfect, he was the Crowned Son of Arc, but in private and behind closed doors, he was the disgrace.
What better way was there to get rid of a mistake, than a tragedy?
It wasn't the first time they tried, and it wasn't the last. Each time he got stronger, each time they trained him to not disappoint them, but he did, by living, by learning. The smell of poisons, the faces and backgrounds of all the servants. When an 'accident' could occur.
It was no secret that Vila is the worst place for Faunus' to be, The Families have always held antipathy for them since they took Occup, the sandy kingdom rich in resources on the northeastern end of Danal. An official ceasefire has been called since the Revolution, only because Vila was outnumbered and surrounded, with Menas in the South, Hazol in the West and Occup at the Northeast, they never stood a chance.
Therefore Vila was a prime target for the Red Fang, the terrorist remains of the peaceful White Fang, who were a group of Faunus who got equality everywhere else. The Red Fang didn't want peace, they want vengeance.
So of course on his sixteenth birthday when he was told to celebrate in Occup, the headquarters of the Red Fang, he wasn't surprised that his ride got shot down by them. He didn't bother putting up a fight when he was kidnapped and taken to a base. He didn't even feel guilty when he slaughtered them all on his way out.
'I'm only thinking about politics, family, war, terrorism, death, and how every moment of my life I've been looking over my shoulder, searching for the next person who'll try and put the knife in my back, before I kill them. That's not brooding, just... contemplating my life.' He thought, his eyes never leaving the window, his guard open, yet never dropping. Throughout all his thoughts, he watched a cat Faunus glare at him in the reflection of the glass.
Blake Belladonna was gonna be sick, she had wanted to get on the flight quick enough to find a spot away from the filthy humans, but they were fucking everywhere. And that fucking Arc was standing over there like he fucking owned this piece of shit airship.
'If my parents didn't insist I go with the human garbage, I would've demanded my personal aircraft to take me, but no, I'm the fucking Princess of Occup, and here I am, mingling with the peasants and scumbags. I bet the fuckbag Arc isn't that strong, one bullet, I bet that's all it would take to kill him, one bullet to the back of his head, or to the stern face, or to his broad back. Maybe he might try and fight back, he might wrap his rough hands around my slender neck and squeeze. He'll probably do what his human ancestors did and have his way with me, no matter how much I beg. Maybe I'll flip the tables on him, I'll pin him down, make him beg for his Sword to Sheath itself in me. Gah! That fucking scumbag pile of human garbage! Perverting my mind!'
Blake left her spot and rushed into the girls restroom to purge these thoughts from her mind and body.
Weiss Schnee was scared. No, not scared, just nervous, really, really nervous. She had applied for Bastion on a whim, her mother would never allow her to go to the Academy within their borders, so she took a chance with a different kingdom.
And she got accepted.
She paced in the restroom on the airship destined for Bastion.
She ran away. Okay, technically, she didn't, the legal age for being an adult was seventeen, so it shouldn't be a problem for her.
Weiss stopped pacing and went to the sinks and stared at her reflection in the mirror, her blood red eyes gazed deeply into each other. "It's not a problem. We just decided to leave home, to fulfill our dreams. Without any previous combat training. With a stabby-sword-speary-thingy, that we have no training for. We bribed a pilot to fly us across the ocean to go to a school that teaches you to fight monsters we could only see in nightmares. We didn't do anything wrong. Right, Weiss?"
Weiss' vision became fuzzy as her heartbeat sped up.
'Maybe, I should've taken up Winter's offer to train me?' She wondered, before remembering the last few times she had asked her sister for help.
"Winter, can you get the cereal on the top? I can't reach."
"Sure, Weiss." Winter said, then she grabbed the box and walked away with it.
"Winter, have you seen my hoodie?"
"Hallway closet."
Weiss opened the hallway closet, her hoodie was in there, right next to a flock of angry looking doves.
"Winter! Help! I tied my shoelaces together and fell down the stairs! I'm in a crippling amount of pain!"
"I know! I'm recording!"
"Winter! I think I'm allergic to this!"
"Shut up and keep drinking."
'Nah, I'm good.' Weiss thought.
Then she took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, she clenched her hands into fists and then relaxed them, she repeated these actions a nine more times.
She stood up, straightened her big white jacket, threw her dulled white hair back, flipped up the hood on her black hoodie, fixed her hair down the back of it and pulled up her loose fitting pants.
"Everything is going to be okay, Weiss. Nobody aboard knows anything about you, it's time to be someone new. No more mistakes, no more random accidents." Weiss pointed her finger at her reflection. "So, Weiss." She jabbed her thumb behind her, towards the door. "Go out there and make a friend."
With her new found resolve, she turned around to walk out the restroom, and saw something odd.
'What's up with those wall toilets? I've never seen those before.'
When she was three feet away from the door, it flew open... and four boys walked in talking to themselves. Weiss -like any other moment she's caught off guard, or wasn't and just couldn't handle it- froze.
And through the still ajar door she saw a girl in a black dress with cat ears rush into another restroom. And like a hundred piece puzzle with one piece left, it fell into place and the image of white cat lying in snow was clear, only this time she didn't get a cute kitty. No. She got the image that she went into the wrong restroom... Again!
She ran out, with a fierce blush, grateful for the fact that she was wearing her hood.
Pyrrha Nikos was called 'The Invincible Girl.' and 'The Goddess of Victory.' people thought she was leagues better than them, that they didn't deserve to be in her presence.
She would applaud them for being right, but it was so obvious how perfect she was, she didn't expect them to think anything else.
Lie Ren was having the newest best time of his life, doing somersaults on the roof of an airship headed for Bastion.
Nora Valkyrie was taking a nap on the center of the roof.
Thanks for reading. I want to rework this chapter someday, I think only about third of this will remain unchanged.
