The air was thick with tension, the metallic scent of battle hanging heavy in the Schnee family mansion's training room. A young man leaned against the cold marble wall, his arms folded, his expression unreadable as he observed the scene before him. His sister, Weiss, was locked in combat with a towering robot, the Arma Gigas, each of her movements as precise as they were desperate.
Its every move is a symphony of mechanical precision. Each thunderous step it took resonated through the marble flooring, a stark reminder of the weight of Weiss's challenge. The young man's eyes narrowed, following the movements of his sister as the fight went on. Her white dress, a symbol of the Schnee heritage, fluttered like a battle standard as she wove between the automaton's relentless attacks, a stark contrast to his own simple, dark attire.
Relentless, the Arma Gigas continued swinging as Weiss tried to parry and dodge each one. Each step and parry brought her dangerously close to the robot's whirring joints and the deadly swipe until it finally swung her across the floor as she had to block its swing.
"Isn't this enough Weiss?" A voice suddenly called out, the tone was cold and indifferent. "Let's hurry up and end this farce."
The young man narrowed his eyes once again, and looked up at their father and younger brother standing at one of the observation decks with a look of bored disapproval etched across his face. The elder Schnee's voice echoed with the familiar ring of authority and disdain, yet his reaction was nothing more than a slight tilt of his head, a gesture betraying none of his thoughts.
"A farce huh?" The young man uttered, loud enough for their father to hear. "Weiss can handle more than you give her credit for," The young man continued, his voice low, almost blending with the echoes of clashing steel.
Their father's gaze flickered toward him, sharp and assessing, but the young man met it head-on, with a dispassionate stare. There was a time when that look would have instilled fear or at least some respect, but those days were long gone.
"Just wait and see. She'll get back up." The young man said once more before training his eyes back to the fight.
As the conversation between the two came to an end, Weiss regained her stance, a cut now visible above her left eye as blood began to slowly drop out of it. She steadied her breathing, determination flaring in her eyes, a silent testament to her willpower.
The young man's gaze didn't waver from his sister's figure, a silent vigil of acknowledgment for her resilience. He knew all too well the sting of their father's scorn, the relentless pressure and controlling nature their father had.
Weiss soon infused her weapon, Myrtenaster, with ice dust and then she stabbed the rapier into the ground, with a graceful, yet forceful motion. A trail of ice made its way toward the Arma Gigas, a frosty shell formed around its legs, freezing it momentarily.
Caught in the ice, it reared up and attempted to shatter the ice around it. With a mighty heave, it swung its gargantuan sword, aiming to cleave the ice, and Weiss, into pieces. But she was ready. She leaped above the blade, her boots met the flat, and she ran up the sword until she reached its hilt before jumping off it, positioning herself behind the Arma Gigas.
As she turned to face the Arma Gigas, it had now broken free from its restraints. But before the robot could do anything, Weiss deployed a few glyphs around her and shot out icicles as she extended her arm. They had impaled and pinned the Arma Gigas, suspending it in the air.
She deployed yet another glyph beneath her feet. The force of it boosted her into the air, high above the frozen titan. Mid-flight, she conjured one last glyph, this one propelling her toward her target, directly toward its abdomen. The impact resonated, a testament to her resolve and power, shattering it whole, leaving nothing but its shattered remains.
As the fight between his sister and the Arma Gigas concluded, the young man turned over and flashed a twisted smirk toward their father. "Impressive, isn't it?" The young man's voice cut through the silence, his tone laced with a mocking edge as he addressed their father, not even bothering to hide his disdain. "She permitted to enter Beacon now isn't she, or is the great Jacques Schnee going to go back on his word?"
Up in the observation deck, their father's expression remained unflinching, his eyes cold and calculating. Their younger brother seemed to shuffle uncomfortably, perhaps sensing the shift in their father's demeanor. "She may attend Beacon. But do not mistake this for pride, Weiss." Their father turned away, his voice a low growl.
The words were meant to wound, to belittle her achievement. But Weiss stood tall, the fire in her eyes unquenched, her resolve unwavering.
As the father and the younger brother exited the training room, the young man pushed himself off the wall, his footsteps echoing in the now silent training room as he made his way out, giving his sister some time to bask in her win.
"She did well." A new voice suddenly sounded. This one standing on the opposite observation deck from their father's.
"Yeah, she did," the young man conceded, as he stopped and turned to face where the new voice came from, "Winter."
Standing there, she was a figure of elegance and austere strength. Her uniform was pristine, the symbol of her allegiance to the Atlas military, and her expression was one of reserved approval.
Winter's gaze softened ever so slightly as she looked down at Weiss, and then back to him. "She'll need to be strong for what's to come. Beacon is no small challenge," Winter commented, her voice clear and composed.
The young man's eyes flickered back to Weiss, who was now sheathing Myrtenaster with a flourish, her stance poised yet relaxed after the intense battle.
"Yeah, it's no small challenge, but neither was growing up in this place," The young man replied, his tone carrying the weight of unspoken stories. "Weiss will handle Beacon. And if she can't," he shrugged, "she'll just have to get stronger."
"And what about you?" Winter suddenly said after a brief silence. "Are you going to follow Weiss to Beacon?"
"I'm not following her," he corrected, his tone even, laced with the firmness of a decision made long before this moment. "I'm choosing the same destination for my own reasons."
Winter's lips curved into a semblance of a smile, a rare show of warmth that the Schnee siblings seldom shared. "Make sure you find what you're looking for."
"I always do," he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. This was true; even when what he found wasn't what he expected, he always unearthed something from his endeavors.
Winter turned to leave, her military boots clicking against the metal floor. "Remember, strength is more than just power. It's about knowing when and how to use it."
As she disappeared from view, he stood alone for a moment longer, contemplating the icy remnants of the shattered Arma Gigas. He knew his path would not be easy or warm, but it would be his own—a path of self-discovery, of battles fought not for pride or approval, but for understanding and a place to belong.
With a last look at Weiss, who stood proud and resilient amidst the cold, he turned and walked towards the future, towards Beacon, towards the unknown. He didn't smile, but there was a resolve in his step, a determination that had been forged in the solitude of his own mind. And perhaps, in the depths of his guarded heart, there was a spark of hope that beyond the battles and the cold, he might find a warmth that his home never provided.
...
The ship hummed as it cut through the skies, the city of Vale growing ever closer. A young man sat in the furthest corner, his gaze fixed on the clouds outside. He didn't need to look around to know that Weiss was there; her presence was as distinctive as the frosty air that followed her, if you excluded her being the only person here with white hair.
As the airship descended, the bustle of students filled the cabin. The young man remained in his seat until the last possible moment, stepping out only when the crowd had thinned. His footsteps were silent, a stark contrast to the excited chatter and laughter that echoed around him.
He kept to the shadows, weaving between groups of students as he subsequently followed the familiar white figure from a distance. Weiss was easy to track, even if she was oblivious to his presence. He watched, impassive, as a girl with dark red hair stumbled into her, spilling the contents of her suitcase.
Stopping, he leaned against a pillar as an exchange unfolded. Weiss's sharp words, the dark red-haired girl's embarrassed stammering, and the arrival of yet another girl, black hair this time. From the distance, it seemed like their conversation was somewhat heated, yet, he felt no urge to intervene.
'Let them figure it out,' he mused, the ghost of an amused smile playing on his lips as their conversation came to an end. 'We all have our battles to fight.'
As Weiss and the black-haired girl made their way, leaving the poor dark red-haired girl alone, He pushed himself off the pillar, to continue his walk to the academy. Making his way to the side entrance, away from prying eyes, he bumped into someone.
"Watch where you're going," the young man muttered, a reflexive edge to his voice as he looked up into the eyes of a tall girl with vibrant red hair and gleaming green eyes.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!" the girl, Pyrrha Nikos, apologized, her tone warm and genuine.
He paused, taken aback by the sincerity in her voice. It was a stark contrast to the coldness he was accustomed to. For a moment, he was at a loss, his usual retorts catching in his throat.
"Tsk." He clicked his tongue at his own loss until he finally said, "It's fine," brushing past her, the moment of vulnerability closed as quickly as it had opened.
As he walked away, he didn't look back, but Pyrrha's gaze lingered on him, a frown of concern etched on her face before she too turned to continue walking.
