Ruby dug her heels into the dirt. "Weiss, stop! Please!"
"We can't stop!" Weiss argued. "He's holding Pyrrha off so we can escape, so either have some faith, or respect his wishes!"
"No!" Ruby shouted, breaking her hand out of Weiss' icy fingers. She shook off the chill, affixing Weiss with a furious glare. "All this is because I ran away, I started all this mess!"
Weiss reached out to her, but the girl scrambled back on a limp.
"No, Weiss! No! You can run— you should run, but I'm going back!" She turned back, drawing her falchion. "My family needs me."
"Ruby, stop, please! You don't know what—"
"I fought her before," Ruby interrupted, limping on her wounded thigh. "I could've won. I know it."
Weiss dashed forward and gripped her shoulder, but Ruby spun around and slapped her hand away. "R-Ruby, please," Weiss begged. "Whatever you think you can try against her, you can't. She's not something you can beat— nobody can."
"I don't care!" Ruby shouted, though her anger quickly sagged into melancholy. "I… I don't know what's right and wrong anymore, but I know that I can't just abandon my family!"
Weiss reached for her again, but Ruby shied away. "You don't—"
"Weiss, you've lived off slavery your whole life!" Ruby shouted, guilt and righteous anger filling her lungs simultaneously. "I… I can't… How am I supposed to look past that?"
"I made a vow!" Weiss argued. "I made a vow to be better, and it's you who inspired that!"
"That's not a good thing!" Ruby cried, making Weiss freeze.
"W-what?"
"It's not! You shouldn't need anyone else to tell you slavery is wrong, Weiss! Owning people is wrong! How can you go so long without knowing that?" The memory of Weiss' lips burned mockingly over Ruby's, reminding her of how desperate she was not to spout these questions, but they came out all the same. "I-I mean, where is your humanity? If I'm going to be with you, what else will you have to learn? What basic, instinctualmorals do you have?"
Weiss' mouth flapped, but nothing came out. Her chest was tight with fear and betrayal, even as she battled with her mind to come up with some kind of answer to Ruby's question. "I— I-I don't—"
"Come on," Ruby begged. "Anything, Weiss. Please."
Weiss was blindsided and overwhelmed, but she blinked back the tears in her eyes and pulled a deep breath through her teeth. She'd been pushed around enough today. "What do you want me to say? That I don't know anything? Because I don't! Every day, my world is being turned upside down by you lunatics,so forgive me if my moral guidance isn't perfectly calibrated!"
Weiss stomped up to Ruby and poked a finger into her chest, making the smith retreat a step.
"I've been aimless my whole life, played by the whims of other people," Weiss hissed, jamming that finger repeatedly into Ruby's sternum. "My life has never been in my hands, so what right do you, a runaway girl looking for such vanity as fame, have to judge what I could or could not do?"
"I ran—" Ruby had raised her voice, but Weiss stepped closer and cut her off.
"And who came to find you, Ruby? Was it the city guards? Were you dragged away against your will, like I was?"
Ruby didn't respond, she couldn't.
"I thought not," Weiss slowly hissed. "As much as you all criticize me for what I have or haven't done, you never consider that I haven't actually had a choice."
Weiss' finger left Ruby's chest, but she wasn't done.
"I'm not perfect, I know that! I'm awful! But right now, you're doing exactly what Blake did to me." Weiss choked a little on the last words, her nose suddenly stinging as tears welled in her eyes. "I thought you of all people would understand."
Ruby felt every part of her being turn sour with guilt. How little faith did she have for Weiss? Should she seriously be so shaken by something that, if she had taken a few seconds to think about it, would've been obvious? And why take that out on the girl she had just kissed? What happened to giving her a chance? Just what kind of hypocrite was she? Her eyes fell to her feet. "W-Weiss, I'm—"
A hand jerked the back of her cloak, dragging her backwards. "Not right now, you dolt, we've wasted enough time. Your uncle needs our help."
Ruby struggled to keep up with her limp, but she managed to keep herself mostly in step with Weiss, so her cloak was released. "You're…"
"Like you said, Ruby," Weiss leveled an accusatory glare at her, making the smith shrink into herself. "I don't have the 'instinctual morals' that you do, so I'm just going to take your word for it. I wouldn't save my family; no amount of blood shared could make up for what they've done." Weiss made a mental exception for Winter; they needed to talk. "But if you want to save yours, I won't just abandon you— I like you, after all."
"W-well…" Ruby drawled, her voice still a little shaken by guilt. "Your family isterrible."
Weiss gave her a deadpan stare.
Ruby's lips managed to pull up into a tiny smile. "Mine's pretty great."
Weiss tried to deadpan harder.
Yang impacted Pyrrha with a ragged cry, her hands bursting with fire as she assailed the Knight Captain. Pyrrha leaned back, letting the first hook whiff past her head before she caught the ensuing follow-up, her hand wrapping just above the stretch of flames on the Huntress' forearm. Yang felt a mountain of strength in the woman's grip, and her eyes widened.
Pyrrha yanked her in and slammed her pauldron into the Huntress, raising her rod as her grip kept the girl from retreating, only for Yang's other hand to appear in Pyrrha's face. A tiny sphere of orange rapidly built inside her palm, only the briefest herald before the belch of flames that followed.
Her grip relented, and she immediately ducked below the short cone of flames before she weaved aside with an overdramatic spin.
Yang sprinted after her, leaping to deliver a flaming punch that the Knight Captain easily danced away from. The Huntress ducked low as she landed, one leg sweeping backwards to catch the woman's retreat, only to find that the Knight Captain was actually in front of her, almost materializing from thin air with speed that could almost match Ruby's. Her baton was raised high, but the bloodlust Yang had expected to see was buried under six feet of sheer disappointment.
Just as Pyrrha's bludgeon swung for the girl's head, however, an almost-silent rustle of feathers made her jump back. Qrow dove from mid-air, his messer stabbing through the spot she'd just left as his wings unfurled to catch his fall. His scarlet gaze never left her, and his feathered vestiges flapped hard to send him surging towards the Knight Captain, sword high for an overhead strike.
A loud clang filled the clearing as she batted the blade with her baton, but Qrow moved with much more youth than his bald-spot heralded. He led the momentum of his repulsed swing in a wide arc to his side, then pumped his wings to send his body into the air, his inertia empowering the low-to-high slash.
His blade sparked fruitlessly against her chestplate, leaving a long furrow across its face, but the look in Pyrrha's tracking gaze was completely indifferent. She knew the strength of her armor, and her unworried expression told him that she'd deliberately allowed herself to be struck.
If that were truly the case, he was glad that Yang had become such an excellent Huntress; she'd read the silent intentions of his move, and exploited the opening he gave her.
Yang blasted forward through the spot Qrow had just risen from, an enraged cry tearing her throat as she ducked low into an uppercut that Pyrrha could never have seen coming. Qrow watched it happen in slow motion, the knuckle-guard of the Huntress' reverse-gripped dagger now glowing from heat greater than he'd ever seen her muster. His hope built high, but he spread his arms wide just to be sure.
The iron in his hand rebelled against his magic, but he risked the extra Aura drain so the front of his doublet could suddenly burst with a flurry of bones, needle-sharp and born from his ribcage. The shards flew straight to the Knight Captain's face, forking her counters. Block the punch, take a faceful of needles. Block the needles, take a plate-crushing blow from Yang.
Pyrrha's expression exploded with glee. Qrow's burgeoning smirk died in its crib.
The Knight Captain shot a palm out to Yang, and all of her gathered momentum suddenly bunched against her hand. Her dagger froze mid-swing, forcing her to let it go lest she crash into it, but it sank to the silt the moment she did. Yang found herself stumbling towards Pyrrha, whose hand flew down to jerk the Huntress up by the back of her neck, forcing her to face the cloud of incoming bone-shards.
Qrow tried to dispel them, but his command wavered against the iron in his grip. He could only watch from the air, helpless as the multitude of needles sliced against his niece's Aura. He was confident that it wouldn't flare the cavernous well of the girl's soul, but he wouldn't be able to fly down in time to save her from whatever came next.
The Knight Captain's gauntlet remained tightly locked around her neck, and Yang was too slow to react as she felt the woman shift behind her. She braced herself.
Qrow watched her rod come flying from her side, aimed straight for Yang's throat. Now weakened by his attack, her Aura would surely collapse around the blow, and her neck would follow shortly thereafter. Of all the jobs, he just had to take the one that ended in watching his niece die.
Otherworldly light burst from behind Pyrrha. Chains whipped around her forearm.
Blake grunted, planting her heels in the dirt as the links pulled taut and slowed the Knight Captain's strike. It took every ounce of her strength just to marginally delay her, and as the gate fizzled behind Blake, she began to worry that it wouldn't be enough.
Yang's eyes flew open, the extra second giving her just enough time to uncork the limits of her flames. She let them flow freely, her unrestrained magic channeling itself from every pore, forcing Pyrrha's grip to relent as her entire body burst into bright arcane fire.
Yang immediately scrambled back, panting hard as she jammed her magic back into herself— it was harder than usual, like trying to dam a river while wading inside it, but the flames eventually bowed to her command. The sheath of fire was snuffed into a plume of arcane blue smoke. Qrow landed at her side, and Blake gated back to them after another moment, chain dangling from one hand.
Pyrrha straightened herself, emerald and silver eyes bright as she hungrily licked her rows-upon-rows of dagger-like teeth. She loudly cracked her neck, but it sounded more like she was breaking it. "That was nice," she claimed, her voice rasping like a whetstone on a blade, "are we all warmed up, now?"
Qrow blinked the taunt away— that's all it was. He narrowed his glare on her, searching for any opening, any limp, any chink in her armor. She couldn't have withstood all that and come out completely fine; sure, she dodged or parried all of their attacks, but that can be just as tiring as attacking yourself. Plus, with all that armor, he was certain she'd be nearing exhaustion.
He watched her chest rise and fall, her breaths smooth and steady.
Well, that could be a fluke, or she could be putting up a front. He extended his enhanced senses, searching for her heartbeat. It took him much longer than it should have to find it.
Slow, so slow it was barely there, but each pulse hit a discordant, inhuman tempo. Soft. Far too soft for fighting— too slow for being alive, even. Qrow grimaced.
Pyrrha pouted. "Don't tell me you're done already."
Qrow grit his teeth. She wasn't bluffing. This was nothing to her— like fighting a gang of toddlers. If they didn't run soon, she would—
He felt heat building at his side. The scent of fire pushed against his senses. He slowly turned towards his niece, his eyes wide and begging. "Yang…"
The Huntress was livid. Sparks flew around her shoulders, wisps of flames alighted and died around her fingers, and her teeth were clenched so hard that they neared a breaking-point. Qrow watched her stance shift ever-so-slightly, one foot sliding back as she lowered herself.
Blake seemed to notice this, too, and reached out towards her. "Yang, don't—"
Their words were unheeded. Yang burst forward, carving trials of flame in her wake.
Qrow couldn't hesitate to follow her, not if he wanted her to live, so he surged in her wake with a flap of his wings, his feet leaving the ground as he soared to his niece's side. The two charged in unison, saber raised and fists blazing.
Yang sidestepped at the last moment, skidding against the silt as she slammed her wrists together, fingers tightly twitching as she focused her rage between her hands. Flames, so bright they were almost pure white, blasted towards the Knight Captain.
Qrow hadn't expected that, and it didn't seem like Pyrrha had either, judging by the way she scrambled back from the ray of incandescent fire. She threw her baton at Yang's wrists to force the girl to dispel the flames, then somehow recalled her rod right back to her hand, the plain weapon ringing as it flew back into her palm.
Thankfully, Yang didn't miss a beat, and flashed Qrow a side-eye before she burst towards the woman again. He followed immediately, charging up to the Knight Captain's side as Yang met her head-on.
Qrow folded his wings so he could fall into a downwards slash, forcing Pyrrha to shuffle aside and let his messer glance off her pauldron. Still, she barely even regarded his presence, focusing instead on the girl with the burning fists.
Yang threw blow after blow at the Knight Captain, but each punch only evoked a parrying rap against her knuckles from the woman's metal rod. She forced herself to be faster, focusing her Aura in her arms and back to hasten and empower her strikes, turning her punches into a blur of power and flame.
Qrow watched Pyrrha's eyes sharpen, her smirk faltering for half a moment as she slid a leg back to steady herself against Yang's unrelenting assault. He targeted that leg with a thrust, hoping to split her attention, only to be reminded that Pyrrha was still parrying every punch with just one hand. Her unoccupied arm whipped around at an angle that shouldn't be possible, and her empty palm shot out to intercept the tip of his messer.
Qrow felt his weapon grind to a halt before it even hit her hand, as if some invisible force was holding the blade. When he tried to swing, Pyrrha caught it again. When he kept trying, she threw him a dismissive side-glare before dancing aside a punch and positioning Yang between them.
Blake felt distinctly outclassed as she watched Pyrrha easily manage both of the Hunters, each of her arms moving impossibly fast to catch or counter any attempt at her guard. Her movements were uncanny and difficult to follow. Inhuman, even, which she supposed made sense.
She watched Qrow try time and time again to open up her guard, only for each strike to be rebuffed with ease. Even as she focused more against Yang's assault, that only seemed to heighten her ability to dismissively repulse the man like it was child's play. She even seemed to get annoyed at this, like a parent endlessly pestered by a toddler, and now constantly shifted to keep Yang between herself and Qrow. She manipulated the flow of battle with ease, moving their combat in a half-circle so she could keep enjoying her battle without that annoying bird. Blake watched Pyrrha position them perpendicular to her, as if she was trying to give Blake a show by laying all three of them out like a puppet play.
She knew it was stupid, that the Knight Captain was a monster who would probably kill her tonight, but her pompous dance had moved the other two out of her way, giving the fay a perfect angle. To be honest, she doubted the tiny throwing knives would do much of anything to that creature, but it would be nice to at least try to contribute.
Regardless of her worries, Blake threw her knives— three of them, in rapid succession. Pyrrha offhandedly knocked one aside with her rod, the second glanced off her chestplate, but the third flew in a clear path to the Knight Captain's unprotected forehead. Aura or not, it should be enough of a distraction to give Yang an opening.
Pyrrha, without faltering in her defense against the other two, popped up and snatched the third blade between her teeth. Blake blinked. "Uh," she drawled aloud, her hands falling limp to her sides, "I don't think this is going to work."
Qrow, realizing how easily Pyrrha was manipulating him, fell back to strategize with Blake. Unfortunately, this new perspective gave him a worrying clarity. Yang was pouring every ounce of her magic into each punch, her speed ramping up until her fists were nigh imperceptible, but Pyrrha kept up with ease, still with just one hand. She was toying with Yang, getting what thrill she could out of the battle before the would Huntress inevitably tire herself out. He turned towards Blake, his voice laced with desperation. "We need to—"
Pyrrha's neck twisted towards him, beyond the point of reasonable survivability. "Run?" She supplied, still batting Yang's furious blows aside with her rod. Her voice cut uncannily over the Huntress' roaring inferno. "Do you really think you could get away, little birdie?"
Qrow gulped. Thinking logically, he probably could—
"You know I won't stop," she purred, "and you're not the only Hunter with enough skill to track this bumbling group."
Qrow gripped his scythe tight. Pyrrha smirked at his trembling hands.
"Ye of little faith," she tutted. "You've realized your hopelessness?"
Qrow clutched the sc— sword. He shook the disbelief from his head and prepared to attack her again, wings flexing out behind him.
"You should try killing yourself!" Pyrrha gleefully suggested, barely paying attention as she bashed Yang's incoming punch with her baton. "I've never seen anybody do that in the middle of a fight, it'd really throw me off!"
Qrow blinked; he could almost see it— jamming the scythe into his own chest, the surprised glance from Pyrrha, her lapse in judgment giving Yang the opportunity to get a shot in. Her fist would smash apocalyptically across Pyrrha's jaw, shattering her focus just long enough that Blake could—
Blake grabbed his arm and yanked it down, keeping him from burying any more than the tip of his blade in his chest. "Fuck, man!" She cried. "What are you doing?"
The scythe dropped from Qrow's twitching fingers. He reacted too slowly to catch it, and had to bend like an old man to pick the thing back up. When he raised his head again, Pyrrha was standing before him, dragging a limp Yang by her hair.
"Fu—" Blake's shout crumpled as Pyrrha swiftly cracked her baton against the girl's trachea. The fay collapsed, hands clutching her throat as she let out a long, broken whine.
"This is your, er… niece, right?" Pyrrha lifted her handful of hair, jerking Yang's head up with it. "Is that how families work?"
Qrow swung once at Pyrrha, but his blade was stopped short as the Knight Captain held Yang in its path.
"Wow, you really are heartless," she mused, peering down at him with Summer's eye. "Is there anyone you wouldn't hurt?"
"You don't know anything about me," Qrow hissed through grit teeth.
Pyrrha cackled, her laughter resonating with something ethereal. "Oh, but I do, little birdie," she leaned closer to the Huntsman. "After all, I've been watching you."
Qrow blinked, his fingers falling loose from his scythe once again. Pyrrha plucked it away with ease.
"That's what good hunters do, Branwen," she cooed. "And I've been thinking about your bird cage for a very long time."