For as long as Ruby could ever remember, Shirou had always been there for her. He never aged a day, always retaining a youthful vigour and image that he explained was a body in the prime of his life. A majority of the explanation had flown over her head at the time, but she believed that she got the gist of it. In a sense…he'd achieved what all women dreamed of: a forever twenty-one body. Yang would be jealous, surely, but more importantly, it gave Ruby time to 'catch up.'
Boys were always the talk of gossip in Signal Academy, and it wasn't as if she or Yang were uninvolved in the matter. It was just that compared to the other boys in her grade, Shirou far outranked them. He was attentive, kind, and always seemed to know when she was feeling down and bake her a batch of her mother's cookies.
Shirou was the best. He was the 'keeper' Yang would always joke about her finding. Jokes on Yang because she'd already found him!
Ruby would have blushed at her childish thoughts and aspirations if not for the fact that it felt as if her heart was being wrenched out from her chest from grief. She could hear her blood rushing past her ears while her rather feeble frame continued to buck and kick at Ector's hold, her arms flailing.
"Calm down!" Ector grunted while using his weight to pin her in place, before she suddenly flipped and reversed their positions.
Calm down? Shirou was shot. H-He had a hole through his chest then disappeared.
"Let go!" She tugged at the arms held in Ector's grip. She was on top of him right now, but she wouldn't be going anywhere unless she pried off the firm hold Ector had her arms in with his hands.
"Stop being so unreasonable," Ector winced from her abruptly planting her foot onto his face to pry his grip off of her with leverage. Aura mitigated any damage, but no one would like the feeling of getting stepped on, but Ector's patience in tense situations had long since been fostered in his time in Mt. Glenn.
Rather than let go, Ector hardly seemed affected, causing Ruby to reflect on her prior thoughts about physical strengthening being unnecessary with Crescent Rose on hand. She felt like she was a chicken pecking at a dog who brushed everything off. It didn't help that she was panicking.
[Shirou!] She tried calling in their mental link as Master and Servant. Shirou had explained the details, but she hadn't been paying attention at the time. All that she knew and cared about was that if she thought of him and called out to him, he could respond to her. However, once again, only silence was heard in her mind.
She pursed her lips and started thrashing against Ector harder. She needed to help him! It was always him helping her, and now when he was injured and alone, she was doing nothing!
[Please!] she kept calling.
Unknown to her, but her eyes were beginning to glow in dull silver light.
Her mother had left her life early on, and it was because of Shirou that she never felt empty or disheartened with thoughts that she may have been abandoned. Shirou had let her see her mother one last time in their childhood where she understood that her mother must have been on a mission that even now, she'd yet to return from.
Others told her that it was likely that her mother had already died including Yang who tried to console her, but her father, Uncle Qrow, and Shirou remained adamant that she was still alive.
Regardless, it didn't change the fact that Shirou was all she'd had as support in her parents absence. Her mother was missing, and her father would constantly travel searching for her, leaving Yang and her alone with Uncle Qrow who wasn't always around.
She already considered Shirou dear to her…so what was she still doing her and not there with him!
The only consolation she had in this moment were the two red sigils on the back of her right hand that her father nearly had a heart attack over after discovering his little Rose got a tattoo.
This was the symbol of her bond with Shirou, meaning that he must still be alive and critically injured somewhere. She'd seen him dematerialize several times before, but she was clear of one thing: injuries don't disappear. She could infer as much from just observation after a Grimm had managed to scratch him. The damage was still there even after he rematerialized in patch.
This meant to say that Shirou was somewhere with a massive hole through his chest, in pain, and vulnerable.
"P-Please, let go," Ruby stared right into Ector's eyes, her lips quivering from beneath her mask. "I have to help my partner. H-He needs me right now!" Her voice broke, a hiccup causing a change in octave that startled Ector enough for him to let go. What she didn't know was that Ector was just as stunned by the fiery glow and intensity of her silver eyes.
Instantly, Ruby sprung onto a running position, but Ector recovered fast and managed to grab onto the hood of her cloak knowing that she was just about to jump towards an area surrounded by Grimm.
"Your partner?" Ector echoed before glancing around.
In her anxious state, Ruby hadn't bothered to scan her surroundings other than where Shirou had disappeared. The fact that she was on an artillery tower perfect for sniping meant that like Ector, she had a clear view of Mt. Glenn and the Grimm.
"Isn't he right there?" Ector pointed out with a grunt.
"W-What?" The words stopped Ruby in her tracks, her tunnel vision widening to stare in the direction Ector specified.
The translucent barrier of light surrounding Jaune Arc's surroundings was impossible to miss. He was a beacon in the dark reality of Mt. Glenn. Despite having snuck out, the moment he raised the banner of the Saint up in the air while standing atop a segment of the defensive walls, his presence couldn't be ignored. All those within the range of the translucent barrier that sprung around him were naturally healed and defended. There, nearest to Jaune with blood coating his clothing was 'Archer.'
To Ruby, the sight of Archer's chest heaving up and down was enough. H-He was alive and safe. The silver light in her eyes gradually receded in her relief, replaced instead by a simmering fury.
"W-Where is the shooter?" She licked her lips before biting down on them, her hands balling into tight fists.
Ector had no reply. This was the question that everyone wanted to know, but as all battlefields were, the situation was hectic. Everyone wasn't dumb enough to believe that the Huntsman of Red was hit by a stray shot, yet at the same time, there was too many people firing at the Grimm and facing the famed Huntsman's direction to properly locate the shooter. This was the disadvantage of crowds.
From up high on the tower though, it was different. While Ruby's focus had frayed, Ector took note of a suspicious cloaked individual making their way opposite of the crowd when the shot had been fired. Of course, Ruby trying to leap off the tower took most of his attention away though. However, the Altesian artillery was equipped with monitors and recording features. Perhaps later the film could be reviewed, but that wasn't important right now.
"And what would you do if you find the shooter?" Ector asked while patting the dust off of him. This was no time to idle, so he got straight to the point. "Will you kill him or her?"
Ruby stiffened at the question, the anger inside her doused with a bucket of cold water as she flinched. "I-I think I'd turn him or her into jail? Killing is a bit much, right?"
"Killing? You could say that, but would you say the same if it was your partner shot or someone you held dear?"
For a moment, a flicker of doubt crossed Ruby's features, a glint of silver trailing her eyes. She couldn't answer and looked away. Ector dropped the issue.
"Let the others worry about the shooter. Our propriety is still Mt. Glenn's protection," Ector cast aside his general laid back attitude and hardened his resolve. "I won't let this city fall and make the sacrifice of my family members meaningless." Ector remounted the Altesian artillery and readjusted the targeted sight. "The Huntsman of Red asked us to place our faith in his sword, Durendal. A chance of victory still exists. Look."
Ruby finally took the time to assess the situation after reassuring herself that Shirou would be fine. Unlike the previous shock and despair that clouded everyone's thoughts when the Huntsman of Red was shot, the Huntsman of Red's very words before his disappearance reignited the spark known as hope.
Nicolas Arc, flanked by hundreds of trained Huntsman and Huntresses were forming ranks in the shape of a spearhead to breach through the Grimm and reach Durendal. The rest of Mt. Glenn's defenders and citizens of Mt. Glenn congregated around Jaune. The tactic was clear: one side to defend, the other to attack and retrieve.
The Grimm in comparison had actually organized themselves to impeded Mt. Glenn's forces from retrieving Durendal as if instructed by orders. The thought was jarring, but it didn't matter.
As it stood, Mt. Glenn's forces needed to pass through a blockade of Grimm.
"They're charging. We need to give them cover fire." Ector decided, reangling the artillery to focus on ground cover rather than the Nevermores up above.
There was no answer.
Ector glanced behind him only to see a flurry of rose petals where Ruby had once been. Following the trail of red roses through the wind, he saw her speeding towards a storm of white petals near the back of the formation made by Nicolas Arc.
More than exasperation and concern, he felt a smile creep up at Ruby's boldness.
Masks, dark clothing, and a penchant to stand out. They may not have come together, but there was no way that they weren't connected.
Ector as well as many others would take note to recall the name of the mercenaries that came to Mt. Glenn's defence on this day as each left quite an impression.
-Amidst the battlefield, the roses dance.
The Rose Mercenaries.
"Qrow, Rose series maneuver four!"
A voice Qrow thought he'd never hear again pierced through the chaos of battle amidst a flurry of claws, teeth, and muscle. He smiled wryly while lowering his center of gravity, sheathing his weapon, and then clasping both hands together in front of him.
"You want me to toss you forward?" He called, stopping as a foot planted on the platform of his palms and pushed off aided by his strength.
"Rose Series maneuverer four!"
The voice echoed as a blur of white rose petals accelerated forward through a pack of Grimm, the steel of blades flashing and reducing them to fading chunks.
"Right, right whatever; you're the leader," he didn't argue. Instead Qrow heightened his senses and reequipped his sword while the spinning of gears shifted it into a scythe he held over his shoulder. "How about I use Unlucky Thorn?"
"Rose Thorn!" A voice yelled in correction, causing Qrow to grumble despite the direness of the situation. Some things just never change.
Grunting, he placed both hands along his scythe's shaft and began spinning rapidly on his heels as a flurry of gooseberry scented rose petals surrounded him. He felt a pair of feet land on his shoulders, and when he glanced up, he saw Summer firing with her guns at distant Grimm as he spun with his scythe.
From a distance, it appeared as if a white lily had bloomed on the battlefield, and underneath all the white petals was a sharpened thorn striking at those unlucky enough to draw near.
With the Huntsman of Red gone, it was now every man for himself, but with the added goal of reaching that sword pierced deep into the side of a cliff face, hope hadn't died.
"Charge!" Nicolas Arc led the vanguard at the front. In his hands was a classic sword and shield, Crocea Mors, but the wall of white Aura around him was what truly made him qualified to lead. It alone was pushing back Grimm and allowing all to charge united. However, this ended the moment the Ursas stepped forward. Tall and heavy, Nicolas Arc alone couldn't force them back until the Arc siblings rammed their own mecha-shift shields and swords to their father's aid.
"Push!"
From the skies, a hail of artillery fire pelted the way forward, avoiding large crowds of Huntsman and Huntresses where possible.
"Good, continue forward!" Nicolas Arc's optimistic yells increased in volume as a small path was cleared.
Watching this all happening, Qrow whistled while standing still. The dark coloured vapour that constantly floated around him in the presence of magic in the air was intangible, and more of a representation much like Summer's white petals. It didn't take long to understand what this vapour around him was to begin with.
Just standing in place, the Grimm around him experienced untold amounts of misfortune. The ground cracked beneath a Beringel's feet and caused it to fall on a jagged piece of rock. Meanwhile, fading bodies of Nevermores crashed into unsuspecting allies.
The only spot free from disaster was where Qrow stood. It wasn't wrong to say that misfortune affected him at all times because it was always around him. Different from before though, if he focused, he felt as if he could direct where the dark vapour goes.
"Well, this is new," Summer's incredulous voice echoed from beside him.
"Yeah," he had to agree. He'd always thought that his Semblance was something uncontrollable, but perhaps it was more out of a lack of control or understanding. There was no such thing as a Semblance designed to harm its user.
"Uhm, stay away from the others for now, yeah?" Summer suggested tentatively.
"I'll do what I can, but no promises. How about Raven?" Qrow found the time to joke. It wasn't everyday that Grimm would fall and die around him without him having to exert any effort.
He shook his head even as Summer's silence seemed to indicate tacit approval. What was important right now was the sword…the sword that was stuck too high up for anyone to reach before a Grimm could intercept.
Nicolas had led his group of Huntsman and Huntresses efficiently.
"We're at the base of the cliff. Is there anyone that can climb or reach the sword?!" Nicolas called out.
"There's too many Grimm in the way sir! Beringels are tossing rocks and some Nevermores have perched nearby."
"Blasted things! Weren't Grimm supposed to be mindless?!" A Huntress yelled out in frustration.
The dilemma of Nicolas's group only grew when the Grimm started circling around them. Exhausted as several were, their guards were soon broken through.
Qrow could only grit his teeth while watching a Huntsman get snagged by the legs and thrown into a pack of Beowolf.
"Qrow," Summer called out solemnly to him while dashing forward. "It's up you," she whispered before jumping head first to save as many people as she could. The dancing white petals scattered across the ground before he watched Summer choke up when a certain voice echoed through the air.
"Moooom!"
Red roses joined with white, and Qrow knew that this was no longer the time to remain idle even as Ruby made a beeline towards Summer; actually, this was precisely the reason. He couldn't hesitate any longer, not when two of the few most important people he cherished were fighting on this battlefield.
He knew exactly what Summer was indicating to him, but he was hesitant since Ozpin had warned him to keep magic secret. Yet, was magic truly a secret at this point?
Qrow stiffly glanced in the direction of the blackened valley carved upon the earth near him. There was no way that people would be dumb enough to believe that was Dust or a Semblance.
If it truly didn't matter at all, then for once, he was going to gamble on his luck and hope he wasn't seen to avoid any complications.
Feeling the swell of magical energy within him, he acceded to the sensation and allowed his body to soar. Light engulfed for an instant, his form disappearing before a crow's caw echoed through the horizon.
He'd turned into a bird. In Remnant, only one other person he knew could replicate such a feat, but she was nowhere near idealistic enough to risk her own hide.
Unfurling his wings, he glided amidst the turbulent air currents. Unlike the others, reaching the sword lodged into the cliff face would pose no problems. Grimm didn't ordinarily attack animals, and whoever was commanding them wouldn't think to defend against a bird.
So along came a crow.
Stuck almost hilt deep within hard rock, everyone noticed it when a crow suddenly perched upon the pommel of the sword yet none gave it a second glance. In the flurry of the battlefield, the Grimm were once more forcing everyone into a corner.
Grunting, Qrow released his hold on his magic, and much to the shock of all, magically appeared gripping onto it.
For a second, silence filled the battlefield.
Qrow didn't even seem to notice the subdued hush. Instead, as his hands wrapped around the plain hilt of Durendal, he felt the weight of the energy stored within responding to his Aura. The vapour around him hissed and bubbled, but soon enough, it quieted down in reluctance.
The sword sought to create a connection, and the thing was, out of all the people in Remnant, Qrow was one of the few that carried the essence of magic within him.
The divinity siphoned into the sword from Shirou was still present and transmitted his intentions. To begin with, he wouldn't have given the sword away if it couldn't be used.
A reaction was created as the energies reacted.
'Durendal: The holder of Miracles.'
The sword's name and title appeared within Qrow's mind as he pulled Durendal free from the cliff face and began his descent.
'A blade of the just.'
He fell rapidly like a meteor, stored light furiously emitting from Durendal's steel leaving a tail of energy behind him. It was nowhere near the output seen in the Huntsman of Red's hands, but the energy was warm all the same. It washed over Nicolas Arc and the rest, bidding them to remain steadfast.
'Three miracles this blade holds.'
Qrow shifted Harbinger over his back when he neared the ground, both hands gripping tightly over Durendal instead as he braced for impact.
'Through righteous desire, this blade will answer.'
Summer and Ruby were the same, able to feel his intentions to shield and protect them while magic and mystery acted as the catalyst. Before him, the Grimm besieging his allies rapidly approached while wind whipped around him.
"Name your miracle.'
"Banish the wicked," he reiterated the words he'd heard prior, the energy around Durendal swelled, shifting to a form he was most familiar with.
'And call out its name.'
"Durendal!"
A sword of light shifted to the image of a reaping scythe almost two stories high. The weight and presence it gave off shocked many, but unlike Shirou who had struck from atop a leyline, Qrow was only able to draw out a fraction of its power. Even still, it was enough.
Under the glow of Durendal's light, there was no resistance by Grimm. No matter the defence or efforts, light was a weapon that when directed was unavoidable. While swinging, the light elongated and cut through a majority of the Grimm nearby, the impact cushioning Qrow's fall before he stumbled and accidently carved out a section of the cliff face.
James Ironwood watching from a private network with Ozpin, clapped a hand over his face when he realized just who had gotten his hands on the sword.
To everyone else though, it was victory.
At this stage, Durendal was akin to a battery. As soon as Qrow landed on the ground, he realized that he could shift the length of Durendal's energy through thought. Still, the energy was limited. He could feel it clearly…as well as the fact that he'd only used a fraction just now.
J-Just how much energy could this sword contain?
Qrow was suddenly aware of how frightening this sword could be in the wrong hands.
Still, he couldn't help but pose, as he knew that the reporters in Mt. Glenn were certainly focusing on him at the moment. After all, he was the one who obtained the key to victory.
'You see this Raven?'
He spoke not with his mouth, but with his actions, knowing full well that his sister would be able to interpret them due to their time spent together. He smirked towards the direction of the camera while swinging horizontally and clearing nearby Grimm away as if he were wiping dirt.
'This is power.'
'O that's bullshit.'
He liked to think that would be her response. She never did like it even as kids when he had the upper hand over her, but regardless, it felt lacking after seeing what the Huntsman of Red had done.
Comparison begets envy.
Indeed, no matter how hard he tried, Qrow could only extend the light's reach to ten meters. This meant that unlike the Huntsman of Red, he would have to move around actively to defeat all the Grimm nearby. With all the people depending on him, he did so without hesitation, missing the way the side of the cliff face he'd lopped off began to form cracks and fissures.
Something was shaking within the mountain.
"O what now?!" Qrow cursed when he nearly lost his balance from an ear-piercing explosion.
He turned around in exasperation, only to see the tightened faces of his allies, Summer and Ruby moving to warn him of something. Up? They kept gesturing.
He shifted his attention towards the sky and saw a torrent of debris and dust blown up from a section of the mountain. This wasn't what was important though: It was the humongous figure in the air far larger than a ten-meter sword could reach.
Its eyes were slitted, and its body was covered in scale-like bone plate. It's image though was uncanny.
There was… There was a Dragon in the mountain.
Not for the first time, Qrow cursed at his own luck. Fucking semblance.
With faith, there will always be an answer.
Jaune could feel his resolve breaking at the face of the flying behemoth above Mt. Glenn. Everything had been going well. The Huntsman of Red's sword had been retrieved and although it couldn't be used to the extent that the famed Huntsman demonstrated, no Grimm could survive its light.
The Huntsman who picked it up also seemed capable of using it well enough to defeat all the Grimm surrounding the walls. It didn't matter how large the Grimm were or how numerous they were against the sword that tore through them with a mere touch.
Victory had been within sight until an explosion of rock and debris from the side of the Mountain revealed a Grimm Dragon slumbering from within. It had taken to the skies and hovered at an altitude that simply couldn't be reached by ordinary means. Even Bullheads didn't fly as high as it did.
The presence it gave off was overwhelming, each flap of its wings generating gales that batted against the entire settlement. Fine. It was big and flew high enough to avoid attack, but the real problem came from the Grimm it was spawning and dropping from its body directly into Mt. Glenn's settlement.
From where Jaune was standing, the Grimm descending from the sky appeared like black rain drops hammering at his heart. The Huntsman and Huntresses were all deployed outside the walls with only a few mercenaries left to defend the civilians in the case of an emergency. Should all those Grimm land in the city, it was over.
There were only a scant few minutes to act and no amount of artillery fire was going to solve the issue. The only thing Mt. Glenn had was a translucent barrier exuding from a billowing swallow-tail flag.
Jaune distinctly realized that many eyes had turned towards him. Some had hope, other despair, but the majority were simply resigned. An air of melancholy suffused Mt. Glenn's civilian population. Live or die, they would accept their lot in life.
Jaune swallowed nervously, both hands moving to hold the war standard he erected before him.
He was the weakest of his siblings, and mediocre in combat, having started training to be a Huntsman later than most. What was someone like him supposed to do? Why had he been chosen to bear this flag?
Wind picked up around him, goosebumps travelling down his skin as he shivered.
As far as he knew and observed, the flag in his hands only had a passive healing effect. What good would that do against the attack of enemies falling from up high?
He cringed, just as a warm glow travelled up his body as if in response to his distress and the growing direness of the situation. A circle of light began twisting around his feet and blowing across the area with him at its center. A beckoning whisper called out to him; urging him to understand and place his devotion in accordance with his heart.
It knows the way. It knows what to do and what must be done. Just because one is weak, doesn't mean that they are useless. Spirit is the key. Words came to mind, a light pressure pressing on his shoulders as if someone were patting him reassuringly.
"The moment you lose faith is the moment the people of Mt. Glenn will die," Jaune mumbled the words that his idol had imparted to him. If heart was truly all that mattered, then he'd give it his all and yearn for that single happy outcome.
Gradually, he shut his eyes, and let his body follow the guide within him.
What do you stand for?
The faces of his family, friends, and the people relying on him came to mind. He pictured a glorious feast at the end of hardship, smiles all around. He didn't have to be the hero. He didn't have to be anything so long as the sanctity of peace could be shared by all,
What do you hope to do?
He needed to ensure everyone's safety. His mom would cry if he, his sisters, or his father never made it back home just as the families of others would do the same. To mourn the loss of a loved one was an agony no one wished to experience.
"I will bear it all," the words left his mouth without any conscious thought, resonating with the energy flowing into him.
The flag began to billow and unfurl, the translucency of the barrier it exuded hardening into a corporal form. Suddenly, he understood all at once.
This banner…it wasn't just a flag of healing.
His hands clenched tight over the shaft of the banner relaxed their hold just enough to begin the motion of waving the flag. The action done at a moment of life and death caught the eyes of the citizens of Mt. Glenn.
There stood not a Huntsman or Huntress, but a simple figure bearing the standard of a flag, bidding those to remain steadfast against any and all forms of danger.
A flag will shine from the depths of hopelessness.
'May your wounds be healed.'
Wounds begin to stitch; fatigue begins to fade.
'May your burdens be lifted.'
A golden aura expanded in a halo around the settlement, creating a barrier that encompassed even the entirety of the walls to create a last bastion of defence. All could only stop and stare. It was not the strongest who could save them, nor was it the smartest. Instead, it was the youngest of the Arc family who hardly possessed any combat training at all. What he had that was greater than most, was found right here in his beliefs.
'This flag will bear it all.'
"Luminosité Eternelle," the name was invoked, actualizing the true property of the flag as one of the best defensive-type Noble Phantasms in existence.
Golden mots of light showered down from within the barrier formed, touching all and repelling the Grimm descending from up high.
Panting for breath, Jaune planted the butt of the war standard on the ground to use as a crutch, utterly exhausted despite his vast Aura reserves.
Just like the Huntsman of Red had said, so long as his spirit remained standing, Mt. Glenn would never fall.
Nicolas Arc, Aurelia Arc, and the other Arc sisters present stared at the youngest baby of the family with varying expressions ranging from admiration to guilt for never taking his dreams seriously.
Right here and now, he alone was the final pillar holding up Mt. Glenn's settlement. However, if the Dragon wasn't dealt with, the situation would hardly change, but with this latest development, the conclusion of this battle's miracles would be at hand.
If the Huntsman of Red was the symbol of all Swords, then soon enough, all will know who would represent the symbol of all Bows; birthing new legends running a parallel to forgotten myths. One who was of the light, and the other of dark.
Under the healing glow of the Saint's War Banner, Shirou's fingers began to twitch.
'Archer' opened his eyes.
Thanks for reading and thanks to my newest patrons: Stefan M, Jeff I, and Sandi Z!
-It's been hard writing this chapter since I broke my glasses recently and had to write this without them.
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Fiction Press: Survivor's Log: Reflections (In editing phase)
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