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qrowin-week · 10 months

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Red String of Fate

Submitted by AppVostok

Red String of Fate

She met him by chance.

It was an honest accident, anyone could see that. Wrong place at the wrong time, plain and simple bad luck.

They had collided into each other. Hard. He had ruined her favorite dress, and subsequently her entire evening.

At first, she hated him. She didn't know why.

He wasn't repulsive by any means. If anything, she had thought he looked quite charming.

But she had a creeping sense of dread and shame when she laid eyes on him. The feeling was unfamiliar and unwelcome.

Perhaps it's the uncaring, gruff demeanor he possessed. Something about him annoyed her.

He had half-heartedly offered a flower he was holding as a way of apology.

She could have accepted it and walked away. She could have done a thousand different things. Instead their first interaction was that of bitter verbal lashings and insults. When she parted ways, she thought she would never see the man again.

She was wrong.

----------------

The dreams were back.

Nonsensical, disjointed, and always signaled turbulent days ahead.

Winter sighed, and closed her eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped the tears from her eyes.

She was in bed. The silence was deafening.

A dream, that was all it was.

She tried to steady her breathing and still her pounding heartbeat.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried, her shaking breaths still hitched occasionally and her heart ached.

Her mind was floundered, searching for answers. Something, anything, to soothe its confusion and annoyance, yet it was like reaching into a void and grasping tendrils of smoke.

Winter had lost count how many times this had happened. Waking up in the middle of the night, tears streaming down her face with a profound emptiness in her heart.

Her scroll shrilled.

Grumbling, Winter reached for her scroll and activated the screen.

She squinted into the glaring light, and frowned.

General Ironwood had summoned her.

A rogue airship had breached the airspace.

“I cannot believe that you allowed this to happen, Qrow,” Winter snarled, pointing an accusing finger at the veteran Huntsman.

Qrow shrugged, “You try stopping these kids when they have their minds set on something.”

They had no idea how close they were to being shot down. They had no idea their lives was almost determined at the end of a single button press. They had no idea Winter almost made the call to blow her own sister out of the sky.

All Qrow had to say was that sorry excuse. She wouldn't have cared if he got his backside blown to pie-

No. Even she didn't want to see that.

The familiar fire of frustration and anger ignited within her stomach.

Every time they met, it would be the same. Every time they would fight either physically or verbally.

She felt her hand instinctively tighten in a fist.

By the Brothers, she hated that man.

Yet, she was glad to see him again.

----------------

“My fiance?” She scoffed, “Are you serious?”

The look of disgust on her face must have been palpable. The man in front of her had dropped all pretenses of a smile.

They didn't have a choice, of course. Such is the nature of political marriages.

She was sure he hated her. They constantly fought and bickered over every small thing.

They never saw eye to eye on any situation.

But, she had to admit. He was a good man.

He was never great with words. What he couldn't express verbally, through action.

He genuinely tries to make her happy. He's protected her from the wrath of her parents. He's held and reassured her through times of uncertainty.

She admired him, even. They were similar in many aspects, but the manner of two sides of the same coin.

But somehow, she could never bring herself to admit it. Or rather, she didn't know how to admit it.

She never could say that somewhere down the line, she realized she loved him.

----------------

It had been a good training session. Weiss had improved significantly since Beacon. Winter couldn't quite find the right words to praise Weiss, so she decided against saying anything at all.

Instead, she opted for a nod and smile of approval.

“Winter,” Weiss said, “did something happen?”

Winter raised an eyebrow, then sighed. Weiss was her sister after all. She could tell when something was bothering her.

“Didn't sleep well, that's all.”

Weiss put her the disassembled parts of Myternaster down, and folded her arms, “It's more than that. Is it the dreams again?”

The Atlesian Specialist felt her face grow warm and looked away, “It is. It's dumb, and I don't know why it keeps happening.”

Weiss frowned, “I remember you talking about them ever since we were kids.”

“You are still a kid, dolt,”

“Winter,” Weiss gave her a flat look.

Winter grinned at her younger sister, to which Weiss eventually cracked a smile too.

“Dream's have meaning, don't they?” Weiss continued.

“It's a popular belief, yes.”

“You don't believe so?”

Winter shrugged, “I don't know what to believe anymore. I've had wild, fantastical dreams. But these? They seem more...”

“Like memories?” Weiss suggested.

“I was going to say, grounded,” Winter paused for a moment, “but you're right, in a way.”

Memories...

A flash of melancholy swept through Winter's heart, like a suffocating wave. It was so sudden it made her jolt.

It felt like longing. It felt like regret.

“You sound like Qrow,” Weiss shrugged, oblivious to Winter's sudden inner turmoil.

Winter shot Weiss a questioning look, “That drunkard? Please tell me you are joking.”

Weiss shook her head, “I heard him talking about it to Clover. He thinks it's withdrawal.”

The specialist frowned, “Withdrawal? From what?”

“Drinking,” Weiss said matter-of-factly.

Winter scoffed. The world's gone insane.

First, the Gods exist. Then, there are immortal being walking on Remnant. Now, Qrow Branwen stops drinking.

“Damn,” Winter muttered, and took out a pack of cigarettes. They were almost empty, crushed within her pocket.

Weiss tilted her head, “I didn't know you smoked.”

Winter smiled as she lit up the cigarette, “Everyone in the military does. Wretched little things. Don't start.”

“Those things will kill you.”

Winter took a long drag, savoring the familiar taste of tobacco. The tightness in her head lessened, and exhaled. Winter smiled bitterly, “A lot of things will.”

A lot of things did, she almost said.

----------------

The day she fell ill, was the day it all came crashing down.

It was not the illness that tore them apart. It was the letter he received.

She looked down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze.

He was about to say something, but decided against it. He said something, but she couldn't hear him.

He stepped forwards, and she felt arms wrap around her, and his familiar warmth.

She didn't want him to go. But, he must. The Kingdom demanded so.

She pushed him away.

“Go!” She screamed, turning around to hide her tears, “Do whatever you want!”

Out of all the words she had spoken in her life, she regretted those the most.

----------------

“Do you believe in destiny?”

Winter froze. She looked up from her notes, “I beg your pardon?”

Fria, the aging Winter Maiden, smiled gently. Her eyes were focused and bright. She was lucid, a state that happened rarer by the day, “Destiny, my dear. Do you believe such a thing exists?”

The question sent a shiver down Winter's spine. Winter had no idea why, but it set her on edge. Winter looked into Fria's expectant face.

“I...can't say I do,” Winter said hesitantly, “The idea that our paths are predetermined abhors me.”

The old woman laughed, “My dear, you are referring to fate, not destiny.”

“There's a difference?”

Fria nodded, “A subtle difference. Destiny is what you make of it. Fate is when you fail to create your own destiny.”

Winter shrugged, “The answer is still no, Fria. What brought this on?”

Fria reached out a gnarled, shaking hand, and gently took Winter's own. Winter smiled and squeezed it in return.

There was a faint ache in her heart, when Winter realized just how much Fria had deteriorated within the past month. Fria did not have long left.

“A Maiden's power is not limited to throwing around elements, nor being a glorified key,” Fria said softly, “sometimes, I catch glimpses of things I did not fully understand until now.”

Fria's eyes hardened. Winter felt Fria's grip tighten.

“My poor girl. How many more cycles must you suffer through? I saw it all.”

“Fria?” Winter asked, mystified.

“I saw it, my dear. Your lives. Many of them,” The old Winter Maiden gave a thin, pitying smile, “I keep thinking about you, as Ironwood requested. It only just started to make sense.”

Winter glanced at the heartbeat monitor. Fria's heart rate had started to rise.

“He will always leave this life before you. Such is the curse of the Gods. But, will you let him pass onto the next life alone once again? As you have done in your last life?”

Winter hesitated, “Fria, what are you-”

A red alert light lit up on the heart monitor. It started to whine. Fria's heart rate was spiking.

Winter stood up and immediately started to operate the life support system. She flicked several switches, double checked Fria's vitals and calculated the correct dosage all within the span of three seconds before hitting the inject button.

There was a hiss, as the machine dispensed sedatives directly into Fria's bloodstream.

The heart rate monitor slowed down, and stabilized.

“Don't make the same mistake again, my dear,” Fria called after her, her voice cracking and getting softer, “do not ignore your heart. We are all tied by the strings of fate.”

Winter paused, hesitating at the odd choice of words, “Fria?”

The old Winter Maiden said nothing. Instead, she looked at Winter, her eyes now hazy and unfocused, “Fuyu? Is that you?”

Winter sighed. Fuyu was Fria's granddaughter, dead at the age of 15.

“I...” Winter swallowed a lump in her thoat, “It's me, Fria,”

“I'm just a bit tired, Fuyu. Will you take grandma to the park later today?” Fria's eyelids fluttered. She yawned.

Winter stroked the old woman's hair gently. The poor woman was losing her mind, and she didn't even know it.

Just like Grandfather Nicholas.

“Okay, grandma. I will.”

----------------

Months of sleepless nights.

Every day, she kept an ear out for the news. Officials tout multiple sweeping victories and triumphs. Low voices speak of bitter defeat and unimaginable conditions.

She dreamed about him on some days. Him knocking on the front of the door with his confident smile, proclaiming that he had returned.

She promised herself, that one day, when he returns, she will apologize for everything.

She will drop her pride and ego, and be honest with him.

She begged the Gods to hear her prayer, to give her a second chance.

It wasn't until uniformed men came knocking on her door, did reality hit her.

A folded flag. A bloodied letter. A blackened ring.

He was never coming back.

----------------

Winter Schnee watched from the Mantle walls.

Dread and trepidation stirred in her stomach. She had faced Grimm hordes before, but never on this magnitude.

Dozens of fighters and battleships of the Atlas Air Fleet streaked over the advancing horde, lighting up the horizon with devastating bombardment. Gattling cannons chattered, energy lances roared.

Craters appeared within the enemy horde. Explosions of dirt, fire, and bodies erupted from the black tide.

Thousands died. Thousands more came.

First blood to Atlas.

But, Winter mused, it was like spitting into an ocean tide.

“Afraid, Ice Queen?”

Winter glared at Qrow.

The man grinned back at her. In contrast to every one else, Qrow seemed utterly at ease, as if it was a routine Grimm pack on the edges of a city. She wanted to snap back, to reprimand him, to turn his fear into something else, anything. But, she found that she couldn't.

Winter nodded, “Yes. Yes I am.”

Qrow's smile dropped. He nodded solemnly, and placed a hand on her shoulder, “Yeah. Me too.”

Winter didn't say anything. Instead, to Qrow's surprise, she took his outstretched hand into her own and squeezed, “Listen, Qrow...”

“Winter?” The man arched an eyebrow, puzzled, “What's the matter?”

“I-...Don't take any unnecessary risks, okay? Promise me that.”

Qrow scowled, “What's wrong, Ice Queen. You're not acting like yourself.”

“Please, Qrow.” Winter held his gaze. His deep crimson eyes shimmered. Winter saw a flurry of emotions flash through them.

The man hesitated, “I...”

General Ironwood's voice crackled of the radio, “Wall guns. Prepare to fire.”

Winter closed her eyes, and let go of Qrow's hand.

Duty calls.

Along the reinforced walls of Mantle, hundreds of multi barreled cannons began their alignment. The cracking and whirring of gears could be heard above the screaming Atlas winds. Each cannon had clusters of soldiers, ready and waiting.

Waiting for the order.

General Ironwood's voice crackled again, “Specialist Schnee. On your go.”

Winter slice the air with her sword, screaming a single word.

“Fire!”

The wall guns boomed.

----------------

Blood, bright red and hot, splattered onto the ground.

Red, just like his eyes.

Then the pain hit her.

White hot and agonizing, it ripped through her body, forcing her to her knees.

She looked up at her killer. An eyepatched woman with burning amber eyes. Her bayonet gleaming with fresh blood.

“What an odd feeling,” she thought to herself, “seems like it always ends like this.”

They bayonet descended.

----------------

Winter screamed.

The heated glass blade burned through her gloves and into her hand. But Winter pressed forward, trapping the blade as she swept her saber down into Cinder's head.

Winter was blasted back before she could finish the strike. She smashed into the concrete wall, cracking her head painfully against the hard surface.

She fell onto the floor, bruised, battered, and bloody.

Winter scrambled up to her knees. She still held her sword.

Around her, an entire platoon of Atlas soldiers lay unmoving. Men and women she has served with for half her life, friends she knew since basic training, all torn to pieces or burned alive.

Cinder floated through the air, her singular hateful eye burning with the fires of the Fall Maiden.

“You Atlas elites are all the same,” Cinder sneered, “you think hoarding power means you'll have it forever.”

The room got hotter and hotter. Unnatural pulsing light emitted from the Fall Maiden as she drew closer.

“But it just makes the rest of us hungrier,” Cinder growled as she advanced. The ground below Cinder was catching on fire. Winter felt her sweat evaporate at the sudden heat.

Winter spat a wad of blood and watched it sizzle on the ground. The soldiers that lay dead around her feet were anything but elite. They were simple men and women, mostly from Mantle, that served for a better life. The irony of the woman in front of her hunting and hoarding Maiden powers suddenly struck Winter.

Despite herself, Winter laughed.

It didn't matter if Winter died here. Penny was going to inherit the Winter Maiden's power. All it mattered was Winter kept Cinder busy for long enough,

She straightened up, and held her sword point forward. A classic dueling stance.

“You will starve, then.” Winter grinned.

She charged.

----------------

The woman with an eyepatch, now fully blind, screamed in futile rage as she was dragged to safety by her own men.

The boy, one armed and faltering, staggers forward. Blood was streaking down his head as he fires his pistol at the enemy with wild abandon.

A bullet struck him in the arm, spinning him back to face her.

“Captain...” the boy whispered before falling to his knees, his eyes were wide and dilated with shock and adrenaline, “Sister....”

She didn't see who killed him. Fire engulfed the boy immediately after, turning the boy into a screaming human torch.

She screamed and surged forwards, clutching her wounded stomach, saber hacking left and right to avenge her brother.

That fool. Her idiot of a brother. He did not save her. He only delayed her death.

She wished she was kinder to him while he was alive.

There was no victory or defeat to be won here on this damned hill. Just blood, and slaughter.

Damn the Kingdom for sending her here. Damn the Gods for taking her loved ones away....and damn herself for chasing her regrets.

There was a flash.

The world shook.

Then there was only darkness.

----------------

Amity communications tower launched on the same day the Mantle Walls were breached.

A warning and a call to arms by Ruby Rose was sent out, just in time for the world to see beginning of the end.

Titanic detonations had rocked Mantle, blasting thick powered dust into the air. Panicked radio chatter had indicated it was the handiwork of one of the new, undocumented subspecies of Grimm popping up on the battlefield.

The Grimm were adapting and evolving. Or rather, Salem was.

Penny, the Protector of Mantle and now, the Winter Maiden, held the breach alone with her newfound powers. Her body was damaged, revealing snarling fiber cable muscles below. Her machine eyes were full of anger and sorrow, but they were also weary, tired.

On every street, every building, every window, the soldiers of Atlas stood ready. Paladins cycled their cannons and the soldier's clutched their rifles.

Behind them, the skies were filled with tracer fire.

Roof mounted guns blazed into the skies, streaming explosive shells that detonated into hundreds of pieces of hot shrapnel. Manta gunships circled and danced in the skies, harassing the Grimm horde below and dueling the flying Grimm above.

A stream of airbuses and Bullheads ferried fleeing Mantle civilians to and fro the floating Kingdom. Occasionally, a fireball will light up in the dark skies, signaling the death of dozens.

Winter Schnee saw none of this.

At the center of an over crowded military hospital, Winter Schnee breathed into an oxygen mask.

Team JNPR had found her in the nick of time. Had they been a second late, Winter would have been lying on the ground, her throat slit by a wrathful Maiden.

Qrow reached out a hand to stroke her cheeks. He recoiled once he realized what he was doing.

Qrow did not know what possessed him to do that. Winter would have taken his finger off if she knew.

The Winter Schnee he knew was a strong and capable fighter. Already a huntress with a name, she had a bright future ahead.

The girl lying in front of him hooked up on life support was nothing like that.

Her pale skin was marred with ugly bruises and fresh cuts. Her body was held together by powered exoskeleton. Ironwood himself had ordered repeated lifesaving surgeries to be done on her.

She looked frail. Vulnerable.

He did not know for what reason his heart ached, and why he felt such a poisonous urge for revenge. This woman had given him no reason to like her throughout their entire history, and yet...

Cinder...

Qrow felt his lips curl into an ugly snarl.

He will kill that bitch. Even if it's the last thing he does in this war.

Qrow Branwen turned to leave.

----------------

It was cold.

She was bleeding out.

“Please,” She blinked. Her blurred vision didn't clear. Darkness was creeping in. Her head felt light.

“Please,” she croaked again, to no one in particular, “I...”

She trailed off, unable to even utter a whisper.

She wished she didn't drag her brother and sister into this mess.

Fitting, she supposed. He died on this hill too. Maybe they could all be buried together once this war was over.

Snow drifted from the skies. She wondered if his soul was crying for her.

She closed her eyes.

Please, gods. If you are out there and listening. If I am ever reborn. Give me another chance. Let me be honest to him. Let me say that I'm sorry before he goes. Let me say that I...love....

----------------

“You...”

Qrow Branwen stopped in his tracks.

He looked back.

Piercing blue eyes met his.

She was awake.

“Qrow?” she whispered. A trembling hand reached out.

“Winter!” Qrow rushed back. He knelt down by her side, and instinctively took her hand, “I'm here!”

“Don't leave, Qrow,” she whispered. She tried to get up, “Please, do not go. I need to tell you, I...ah-

Whatever she was going to say was cut off as she gritted her teeth in agony.

“Hey hey, take it easy,” Qrow said, gently pushing her back down.

“I-” Winter gasped. She swallowed, and looked at Qrow in his eyes. Tears began rolling down her cheeks. She choked, and swallowed, “I'm sorry, Qrow. I didn't mean-”

The machines beeped and whirred. There was a loud hiss and painkillers automatically dispensed straight into Winter's bloodstream.

Winter's eyes became unfocused, a familiar frown of annoyance creased her forehead, “Don't leave me, please.” she managed, before falling back to sleep.

Qrow still held her hand as she sank back into her bed.

Bewildered, Qrow sighed and dragged a chair next to the bed.

He was still holding Winter's hand when Whitley walked into the room.

----------------

She met him by chance.

It was an honest accident, anyone could see that. Wrong place at the wrong time, plain and simple bad luck.

They had collided into each other. Hard. She had just left her first mission briefing.

On first sight, she hated him. She didn't know why.

He wasn't repulsive by any means. If anything, she had thought he looked quite charming.

But she had a creeping sense of dread and shame when she laid eyes on him. The feeling was unfamiliar and unwelcome.

Perhaps it's the uncaring, gruff demeanor he possessed. Something about him annoyed her.

“Oh! I'm sorry. Are you alright?” He had held out a hand to help her up.

Her first instinct was to slap it away. To hurl insults at the man, and to walk away. But something stopped her.

She hesitated, and took the hand.

He was holding a bouquet of flowers, sunflowers and roses. He plucked a white rose from the bouquet and offered it to her, “A token of apology, Ice Queen.”

She gingerly took the rose, a smile forming on her lips.

“Ice Queen?” she arched an eyebrow.

“Sorry. The white motif and everything, you know?”

“I have a name, thank you very much.”

The man laughed, “Sorry. My name is Qrow. What's yours?”

Qrow. How familiar it sounds to her.

His face, his scent. The way he talks. That confident smile.

She smiled, surprised that she didn't have to force it, “My name is Winter.”

----------------

Mantle has fallen.

The city lay in ruins. The dead littered the street. For every human and faunus life, the Grimm paid tenfold. There were no pockets or resistance. No calls for help. Nothing but the quiet dead, and the snarling of Grimm.

It was a somber sight. An entire city, dead.

Atlas was overcrowded with refugees. Rioters and dissidents were handled with impunity, and usually sent to the front. Their fear and anger only caused the Grimm to redouble their efforts.

They were running out of food, they were running out of Dust, and they were running out of men.

Atlas could only hope the time bought with the blood and tears of her people was enough for the rest of Remnant.

The decision was made.

They had fought valiantly, but ultimately in vain. Mantle was lost, and there was no need for Atlas to be lost too.

Atlas was to be launched into the atmosphere.

That was the plan, until Salem arrived.

----------------

“My partner?” she scoffed, “But, sir!”

The look of disgust on her face must have been palpable. The man in front of her had dropped all pretenses of a smile.

Colonel Ironwood cleared his throat, and gave her a flat look. She did not have a choice. Orders were orders.

She was sure he hated her. They constantly fought and bickered over every small thing.

They never saw eye to eye on any situation.

But, she had to admit. He was skilled.

He did not have great verbal finesse. He didn't need to, with his skill on the field.

On more than one occasion, he has saved her from injury or death. He's watched her back, and she watched his.

Sometimes, she would feel like an inexperienced recruit in front of him, but he always patient in his teachings.

She wanted to admit it. She eventually gathered up the courage to tell him that somewhere down the line, she realized she loved him.

----------------

The Grimm Whale almost half the size of Atlas.

How such a monstrosity maintained flight was a mystery.

The battered and wounded Atlas Air Fleet turned to meet it's latest and final challenge.

Aerial dreadnoughts, tiny compared to the flying monster, flared it's engines into overdrive.

Main rail-cannons cycled up with a whine that could be heard over the screaming of the flying Grimm horde.

They fired.

Night turned to day in a brief instant as the volley streaked towards the Grimm Whale. Large craters detonated into the nose of the creature, sending thunderclaps that could be heard from Argus Port.

To the horror and dread of the crew, they watched the deep wounds slowly close up, as if nothing happened.

Knowing this will be likely their last battle, the captains of each ship ordered another volley to be fired.

----------------

The day she wanted to confess, was the day it all came crashing down.

Her heart was pounding. She clutched the bag of chocolates she prepared for him.

Was this appropriate? Perhaps not. She didn't mind his age, but what would the others think? What would Colonel Ironwood think?

Then she saw it. Him sharing a deep kiss with another woman.

She looked down at the floor, unable to meet bring herself to watch.

Of course he wouldn't see her that way. Maybe she was too young. Maybe it just wasn't meant to me.

She turned around and walked away, dropping her little gift on the floor.

“It's fine,” she whispered tearfully, “do whatever you want.”

Out of all the words she has said to herself, those words hurt the most.

----------------

Winter put her forehead against Qrow's shoulder.

It all seemed so hopeless. What were they even fighting for?

“What happens now, Qrow?”

Slowly, Qrow put an arm around her shoulder. He sighed, “In truth, I don't know. We think of something. If we don't we die.”

“You are terrible at giving speeches.” Winter huffed.

Qrow snickered despite himself.

Winter snuggled into his arm and pulled him closer.

Qrow held her gently, basking in the warmth of anothers body.

“It doesn't matter now, but...” Winter sighed. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. Her soul laid bare for him to see, “ I've...I've always had feeling for you, you know that?”

The veteran Huntsman broke eye contact, and looked away. His cheeks burned with shame, “I thought you hated me...after...after that incident”

“I thought I did too, but I guess right here and now? Perhaps once it mattered. It doesn't now.” Winter pushed forwards. Her mouth found his.

Qrow pulled back, “I don't think-” he began.

“An older man and a young Schnee?” Winter smiled, “Have you seen my parents?”

They kissed again, this time neither resisting. For a moment, nothing else mattered to either of them.

Two simple souls, shutting out the war outside.

----------------

Months of sleepless nights.

Every day, she distracted herself with work and training. The people around her congratulated her for her dedication. The voices inside her whispered bitter poison into her heart.

She dreamed about him on some days. The times when they sat alone and chatting in the field, under the stars and away from civilization.

She promised herself, that one day, when he returns, she will defeat and surpass him.

She will crush his pride and ego, and show him what she was made of.

She begged the Gods to hear her prayer, to give her the chance to grow.

Then one day when she donned her uniform and walked side by side with Weiss on the grounds of Beacon Academy, did she hear his voice again.

He was back.

----------------

It was a suicide mission, General Ironwood made it clear. He needed Huntsmen willing to sacrifice their lives for Atlas.

Should the whale be allowed to land, it would mean certain annihilation for everyone in the Kingdom. Ozpin, or Oscar, said he felt Salem's presence within the whale.

It was too big of a threat, and too valuable of a target.

They only had one choice. It had to die from within.

Atlas had held out against insurmountable odds for longer than anyone could have hoped for. But, even the Atlas war machine could be clogged and ruined by seemingly infinite bodies of Grimm.

Only volunteers were accepted. Almost everyone raised their hands. Winter raised hers too, and not even the pleading look for Weiss could shake her resolve.

General Ironwood nodded, his eyes glazed with steely resolve. He began listing out names. Soldiers and Huntsmen of all ranks and age stepped forwards.

He called one final name, before turning to leave.

“Huntsman Lie Ren. Step forwards.”

----------------

Blood, bright red and hot, splattered onto the ground.

Red, just like his eyes.

Then the pain hit her.

White hot and agonizing, it ripped through her body, forcing her to her knees.

She looked up at her killer. An eyepatched woman with burning amber eyes. Her black Grimm claws gleaming with fresh blood.

“What an odd feeling,” she thought to herself, “seems like it always ends like this.”

The claw descended.

----------------

Winter watched from a distance as Lie Ren bade his tearful friends goodbye. Team RWBY was barely walking. Ruby Rose herself, the silver-eyed warrior, was bound to a crutch until further notice. She had to be pried from the man by the rest of her team.

Jaune Arc was solemn. His medical abilities made him too valuable to expend. With tears running freely down his face, he hugged teammate for the last time.

Finally, Winter stepped forwards. Her medical exoskeleton whirred with each step.

She nodded in approval.

Winter had trained Lie Ren and his teammates for a short while. The man standing in front of her was a completely different person. The man had aged within the past month.

The boy's eyes looked hard. Determined. But they were as colder than the Solitas tundras. Nora Valkyrie seemed to have taken his soul with her when she died.

“Are you sure about this, Huntsman?”

“Yes, ma'am. Nora's waiting for me on the other side.”

Winter nodded, “I'm sorry for your loss. Truly. Even I could see that you two were...close.”

Ren nodded, “I will see her soon, ma'am. I know I will see her in the next life. The red string of fate ties us together, I am certain of it.”

An old Mistrali belief. She hoped, for this boy's sake, it was true. Winter nodded, “Farewell, Huntsmen Lie Ren.” She snapped sharp salute.

“Farewell, Captain. If the Gods permit it, we shall meet again in the next life.”

It was odd, she thought as she blinked back tears. It was like saying farewell to a brother she never had.

----------------

The woman with an eyepatch, now fully blind, screamed in futile rage as she was dragged to safety by a scorpion faunus and a short pink haired woman.

The boy, one armed and faltering, staggers forward. Blood was streaking down his head as he fires his pistol at the enemy with wild abandon.

A bullet struck him in the arm, spinning him back to face her. His partner, a young girl, caught him.

“Captain...” the boy whispered before falling to his knees, his eyes were wide and dilated with shock and adrenaline. His eyes darted to the side, “Nora!”

She saw the scorpion faunus kill Nora. The girl turned to shield the boy from the incoming barrage. She fell, gasping and clawing at the holes in her chest.

The boy screamed and surged forwards, emptying his pistol at the retreating enemy to avenge his partner.

Those fools. Those idiot naive students. They only traded one life for another.

She hoped that Nora's life had been kind to her.

There was no victory or defeat to be won here in this damned Kingdom. Just blood, and slaughter.

Damn Salem for this war. Damn Cinder for this destruction...and damn herself for caring too much.

The lights flashed.

The world shook.

Then there was only darkness.

----------------

General Ironwood did not tell Winter Schnee that he was going to be part of the mission, at least not until it was too late.

Ironwood had left a message on her scroll. He would have lost his resolve at the sight of her tears, even with Mettle. She was the daughter he never had, and he'll be damned if he let's Salem take her from this world.

He did his best to prepare her for the role she is going to be promoted to, and he was confident that Winter Schnee would make a fine general.

As for Qrow...well. Ironwood vowed to come back and haunt him if he ever breaks her heart.

The General sat on the command throne of the last dreadnought of the Atlas Air Fleet. Stripped shirtless, the cables snaking from his body had him directly interfacing with the ship. It was the only way he could operate the guns with full machine precision. The Dreadnought had become an extension of his body.

He smiled.

Lie Ren saluted, “General. The atomic charge is armed and the engine reactors are primed and ready to overload.”

Ironwood nodded and started his broadcast, “Soldiers. Heed my last command. Begin the countdown sequence.”

He took a deep breath, and pulsed a surge to the engines. The Dreadnought lurched forwards, all guns blazing. The flying Grimm horde was cut down with extreme and efficient bursts of fire, tearing a swath directly to the giant Whale.

The Grimm monstrosity opened its mouth and roared. Surging to devour this insignificant ship that dared to challenge him.

“It has been an honor serving with all of you.”

The monster snapped its jaws shut.

Then the world vanished in a blinding white light.

----------------

It was cold.

She felt like all the blood had drained from her.

“Please,” She blinked. Her blurred vision didn't clear. Her head felt light.

“Please,” she croaked again, to no one in particular, “I...”

She trailed off, unable to keep a sob from escaping her lips.

Fitting, she supposed. The General died a soldier's death, defending those he loved. But, like many on Remnant, there won't be anything left to bury.

She was crying, without having felt the tears coming. The dam had burst, and there was nothing she could do to rebuild it.

Why? Why did he do it? The man was more of father to her than Jacques ever was. Why was Jacques alive and well while there isn't a scrap of James Ironwood left to bury?

She knew the answer. The General would never ask his men to die in his stead. She had been worried that he would lose his humanity in this inhumane war, but...

Strong arms wrapped around her waist. Winter turned and buried her head into Qrow's chest.

Convulsed by wracking sobs, in the arms of the man she loved, Winter Schnee wept.

----------------

Winter Schnee watched the sun rise from the east.

It's golden rays lit up the skies with vibrant colors, and washed across her face with it's intense heat.

The view was breathtaking. From this height, she could see across the entire desert.

The city of Atlas floated towards it's destination: Shade Academy.

She breathed in the desert air, and nodded.

Her head felt clear. The dreams had stopped, and for now at least, the nightmare was over.

“Vacuo,” she muttered, “we're almost there...”

Her scroll chimed.

“Salutations, General.”

“Hello, Penny,” Winter said, “status report?”

“All systems nominal. I am at 100% physical integrity, and I cannot possibly begin to calculate the amount of power I can ou-”

Winter cleared her throat, “Thank you, Penny. Time to destination?”

“We are almost at our set destination. ETA, 5 hours.”

The new General of Atlas nodded in satisfaction, “Copy that. Please send the headmaster of Shade Academy a notification. Thank you.”

A crow fluttered onto her outstretched hand. She brought it in and gave it a kiss on the head, “Good morning, Qrow.”

The bird flapped his wings and took off. Qrow Branwen landed behind Winter and grinned, “Looks like you're in a good mood.”

“Do I have a reason not to be, today?”

Qrow shook his head, “No. Nothing major has happened on our little island. The people are looking forward to getting their feet on some real soil. Your sister especially.”

“Is Weiss still complaining?”

“As much as you do,” Qrow reminded.

“Yeah okay. I am quite ready to get off this rock.” Winter said gingerly.

She sighed as she looked wistfully out into the racing desert.

“Hey,” Qrow's hand found hers, “what's wrong?”

“Nothing, I-” Winter caught herself. Honesty. Honesty from now on, she reminded herself. “I was thinking about Mantle. When I look out there, I cannot help but think it's all going to get destroyed.”

Qrow lifted Winter's hand to his lips and kissed it. Winter blushed at the gesture.

“This war is not going to be easy, yes. But, I've placed my bets on General Schnee,” Qrow grinned.

Winter laughed, “I'm flattered. Me against an immortal, Grimm controlling, witch that has lived for over a millennia.”

“I never said they were good odds.”

“...and yet, somehow,” Winter smiled as she pulled Qrow in closer, “I think we'll make it.”

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