Nestled among an ancient grove of Aspen trees on the southern slope of Mount Eisen is a castle whose grandeur knows no equal across the Four Kingdoms. The name of this ancient structure is carved into the marble archway of the castle's great hall: Wynterhabvn Schnee. Few not born beneath its vaulted halls know this name. To the world, the historic structure is known as Schnee Castle.

The Schnee Family's ancestral home has withstood the test of time. Half a millennium before the founding of the Schnee Dust Company, Lord-Marshall Wilhelm Schnee, 2nd Prince of Mantle chose to settle his clan along the slopes of Mount Eisen. With each new generation of Schnees the castle grew, reaching its current state a mere century before the birth of Weiss Schnee, heiress to the family's fortune, company, and land.

While the Kingdom of Mantle collapsed during the Great War, the Schnee Family rose from the ashes with more power than any King had ever known. Gunther Schnee, grandfather of Weiss Schnee, founded the Schnee Dust Company near the end of the Great War.

The Mantellian monarchy had long held dominion over the mining of Dust crystals from mines and quarries deep in the frozen mountains of inland Mantle. On the day of his execution by those who had once been his subjects, the King of Mantle carried out one last bitter revenge. With the help of loyalists among the newly formed Atlas military, he sabotaged over a hundred Dust quarries across Mantle. His reasoning was thus: The people may take my life from me, but I shall take their world from them.

Gunther Schnee learned of the King's final loathsome act while fighting on the frontlines at the Second Battle of Vytal. He rushed home, seeing an opportunity to save his Kingdom and empower his family. Investing the entire Schnee fortune in a matter of days, Gunther bought quarries, mining equipment-in some cases, entire towns-whatever it took to get the Dust flowing to the soldiers on the front lines. To his kin he was a madman; to the patriots of the fledgling Kingdom of Atlas he was a hero.

When the war finally ended, Gunther was in a position to prosper. Across Remnant, dust reserves had been depleted by a decade of combat. He secured exclusive distribution rights to all four newly formed Huntsman Academies, the Atlas military, and hundreds of smaller clients all across Remnant. Dust moved the world, and the Schnee Company moved the dust. Over the next 80 years, the Schnee Company rose in power until it became the largest employer on Remnant. But its rise was not without conflict. Few Faunus forget that the Schnee Company sided against them during the Faunus Rebellion, cutting all dust shipments to Menagerie long before Atlas officially intervened. As a result, the White Fang, self-styled Faunus freedom fighters, have been seeking revenge on the company for nearly thirty years.

Weiss Schnee's father was not content to sit idly by while terrorists assaulted his company; his empire; his birthright. With the permission of the Atlas military, he reformed the Schnee Home Guard, and placed them under the command of his childhood fencing instructor, a grizzled warrior whose dedication to the Schnee family was absolute-Alric Hellbrau. Given a tower on the castle grounds as a headquarters, a force of 200 handpicked warriors, and a blank check from the Schnee Company, Hellbrau was ordered to secure Schnee Castle by any means necessary. That Schnee Castle still stands is a testament to both his skill and his utter ruthlessness.

Most men approaching their 96th birthday would not choose to spend their first free Monday in a month on horseback, hunting Grimm for sport. Then again, most men hadn't survived twenty eight separate bullet wounds, thirty six major lacerations, three Hemlock poisonings, and the loss of their left lung before the age of thirty. That is to say, most men who live to the ripe age of 96 haven't lead the violent life of a warrior like Alric Hellbrau.

The Colonel's monthly hunt was more than a simple test of skill. He typically brought along promising young soldiers from the Schnee House Guard, covertly assessing their loyalties through a hunter's casual conversation. In the four decades since he'd assumed responsibility for defense of Castle Schnee, Hellbrau had recruited hundreds of promising young men into the Black Talon. Just one of his many talent pools, recruits from the Schnee House Guard extended Hellbrau and the Black Talon's influence across much of Atlas. For Hellbrau's long game, a mail clerk or engineer on the Black Talon payroll could do more damage than any fleet of ships.

Hellbrau's hunt had already killed a dozen boarbatusks and a pair of Beowolves when they spotted an Ursa on a ridgeline ahead. There was a raw energy in the air as the men of Hellbrau's party brandished their blades in anticipation of such dangerous prey. It is easy to imagine Hellbrau's frustration when a Black Talon cell in Vacuo chose that moment to make their report. His scroll began to ring with a distinct melody signifying which operative was making contact. With a gruff flick of the wrist he brought his small troop to a halt, ordering them to establish a secure perimeter while he took the call.

The voice on the other end of the line was digitally distorted, as was Hellbrau's to the caller. So long as he or she knew the proper challenges, the identity of Hellbrau's operative was irrelevant.

"Terrible storm approaching, don't you think?" Have you kidnapped his child yet? Even if someone cracked Hellbrau's encrypted scroll, they would get nothing of substance from this conversation.

"It passed us by quietly. The basement, unfortunately, flooded." We weren't spotted, and he hasn't been reported missing. The boy is being treated well for now, but we had to kill his mother. The caller's soft lilt was familiar, and Hellbrau wondered for a second if he'd ever met the woman doing his dirty work in Vacuo.

"At least it was only the basement. Just make sure the house is ready for a showing. A buyer is coming by this afternoon. We wouldn't want to keep him waiting." Get the cameras set up by noon.

"Fair enough. I hope he doesn't mind the color." Will do. I'll await new orders. The caller coughed twice, an indication that her message was complete. Hellbrau promptly hung up, and mirthless smile creased the weathered soldier's lips as he mounted his stallion and rode back towards Castle Schnee. He loved it when his duty to the Schnees and the aims of his brotherhood reached a cross-purpose.

To both her team's surprise and he own, Yang managed to pull together an appetizing meal from a mix of the six food rations left in Weiss's backpack. Dried sausages from a dinner, two biscuit packs and powdered eggs from the breakfast rations, and an assortment of vegetables came together as a dish that vaguely resembled a pizza. With no small pride at her accomplishment, Yang got the attention of her teammates. "Breakfast's ready!"

Having only a solitary fork from Weiss's mess kit and no plates at all, the girls gathered around the frying pan to eat. Biscuits were arranged to fill the bottom of the pan, over which a mix of other ingredients were spread like a topping. "Everybody gets two biscuits. There's some rich brown bread left, and a block of hard cheese, but I figure we can save that for trail food. Dig in!"

Yang didn't need to tell them twice. For five minutes only the sounds of eating could be heard as the girls greedily devoured their meal. If Weiss or the others minded eating with their hands, they didn't show it. Then again, Weiss and Ruby's auras had both burned through thousands of calories healing swelling and minor fractures from landing that previous afternoon.

A huntresses' Aura could heal injuries practically as they happened, so they were unharmed despite landing at near-terminal velocities. But Aura's regenerative properties came at a price-the body's metabolism raced as a body healed. Yang had once tested her semblance with the help of Professor Goodwitch, and she'd burned nearly 9000 calories during her power-up. Yang knew the hunger that came from an Aura drop all too well- Ruby would probably have eaten a raw chicken if it had been thrown into the pot.

"So what'd you think?"

"It...tasted surprisingly good. But I have no idea what I just ate. What exactly were those red cubes?"

"The chewy ones? No idea. They came with the powdered eggs."

"Eh, it's probably better I don't know. Anyway, thank you Yang."

"Huh?"

"I don't think any of us could have turned what we had into an appetizing meal. I mean, it wouldn't win the Beacon cook off or anything, but it was a lot better than what I would have done. So thank you."

"Yeah, sure, no problem." Yang wandered if her conversation with Weiss that morning had actually struck a nerve. Her mind lingered for just a moment, then she remembered her team still had a mission to carry out. "Hey Ruby, what's your plan for today?"

"Did you and Weiss figure out where we are yet? Once we know where we are, we're heading straight for the old town Weiss found." Ruby was eager to get moving, but she knew all too well how easy it was to get lost in dense woodland like Forever Fall. Simply walking west towards the looming figure of Autumn's Bluff would be foolish. The old map on Weiss's scroll showed one very narrow path through the cliffs that would lead to Carnelian, and without proper directions RWBY could wander around for days and not find it.

Weiss frowned. "We're west of Autumn's Bluff, but besides that we're basically lost." Weiss gestured to the vast valley slowly resolving into a sea of red treetops as the sun crested the horizon. "That valley's a hundred miles long according to the map. Assuming we're somewhere in the middle, we're at least fifty miles away. There's just no way to tell. I'm sorry, Ruby, but there's not enough landmarks to orient ourselves." Weiss's voice was betrayed her embarrassment, even as it carried a tinge of anger. She was still furious that her first real, unsupervised mission, her chance to prove she had what I took as a huntress, was nearly a failure before it had even truly begun. And she was embarrassed to admit that all her cartographic skills were essentially useless when surrounded by hundreds of miles of red foliage, with not a single lake or distinct landmark by which to orient herself.

"Ahh, that's okay Weiss. We'll figure something out, right? We're Huntresses! Well, junior Huntresses...I mean, Huntresses in training...oh you get the point! Have you had any luck getting onto the CCT net?"

"I tried before we ate, but there was no signal. I'll try again now." Weiss drew her scroll and set to work.

As she stood up, Ruby noticed something different about Blake. What is it? Her hair's the same, her outfit's the same, her bow's the...That's it! She's not covering her kitty ears! I wonder if I should ask her why? Hmm... Nope! I won't say anything. She seems pretty happy today, and I don't want to put her in one of those moods again. Ruby contended herself with tending to Crescent Rose. Drawing a small whetstone and honing oil from her pouch, Ruby set to work bringing each of Crescent Rose's blades to a razor sharp edge. You're ready to carve up some Grimm today, aren't you sweetheart?

Yang, who'd walked off into the bushes around the camp's small clearing just a few moments before, returned with a look of worry on her face. "Ruby, I think I heard something. I'm taking Blake to go check it out. Be back in five, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Yang hauled a confused Blake to her feet.

Blake waited till they were out of earshot of Weiss and Ruby before whispering to her partner. "What's up? You made a face back there, but I didn't hear anything. Did you feel something with your Aura?" Blake knew better than to doubt Yang's warning. Huntresses often got a sixth sense, a tingling at the back of their mind that whispered "Look behind you!" when danger approached. If Yang had felt something, it was worth investigating.

Despite Blake's questions, Yang remained silent. She led Blake by the hand to a hollow a few dozen yards from camp, well out of sight and earshot from Weiss and Ruby. She plopped down on a patch of soft crimson moss, and with her free hand she beckoned Blake to do the same. Her grimace had become a deep pout, only fueling Blake's concern. "Yang, what's wrong?"

Without a word, Yang unclenched her right hand, and a small silver cross dropped from her fingers into Blake's lap. Tears filled Yang's eyes. Blake instantly recognized the ornament she'd seen every day for six months-one of Ruby's cape pins. But this only added to her confusion. Why did Yang have it? And why was she so distraught?

"I...I don't understand. Why do you have Ruby's cross?" Blake didn't have to know Yang's trouble to see she was suffering. She gently took Yang's hand in hers as she pocketed the pin.

Yang wiped her eyes, and when she began to speak her voice was but a hoarse whisper. "It's not Ruby's pin. It's Summer's." Blake's confusion only deepened. So Ruby wears her mother's pins? That's...poetic...and tragic. That poor girl.

"Okay Yang, why do you have Summer's pin? I just saw Ruby wearing it at camp. How did you even grab it from her?"

Blake scarcely thought it possible, but Yang's voice sank quitter still. Even with her feline ears, Blake struggled to decipher Yang's words. "It's not the pin Ruby wears, Blake. It is her mom's...and...and...I...I just found it. I came over here 'cause I thought I saw something, and it was just lying here, on this moss. You understand now, don't you? What that means?"

Blake's free hand shot to her mouth, her eyes wide with the horror of Yang's words. "Oh, God! You don't think..."

"Yeah. This...this is where she died." Suddenly Yang's eyes flared red and sparks crackled from her golden hair. "Dammit! There's an entire forest and we end up HERE! That's not fair!" Yang slammed her fist into a rock, cracking it in half. Blake wrapped Yang in a soothing embrace, rubbing her back gently till Yang's blazing eyes cooled to violet.

"Yang, it looks exactly like your sister's cross. Why?" Blake sensed that Yang was regaining her composure. Her voice was still low, but the previous despair was gone. Blake thought back to her conversation the other day, to words Yang had said in a place not unlike this: I look so tough, huh? Well here's my secret: I'm a good liar. The raven-haired Faunus knew she was seeing that lie, that mask Yang so often wore for others benefit.

"My Uncle Qrow went looking for Summer after she disappeared. The only thing he found was her bloodstained cape and one of the silver crosses that held it to her dress. The cape is buried under her gravestone out in Snowy Forest. Ruby always liked wearing hooded capes, even before we lost Summer. But after that, she began to totally dress like her too. I guess it was her way of coping with it all, you know?" To prove her point, Yang brought out her scroll, bringing up an old picture of a young woman with piercing silver eyes, her face shadowed by a white hood. It was Ruby's mother, Summer Rose.

Chills ran down Blake's spine. Had Yang not named the young woman in the picture, Blake would have insisted it was Ruby. Summer appeared to be the same height, shared Ruby's unique natural red highlights, and even wore the same black gothic dress Blake had seen Ruby wear daily since she arrived at Beacon. Save for a red cape in place of Summer's white one, Ruby had indeed adopted her mother's style as her own.

Yang handed her scroll to Blake as she continued, "After the funeral, Qrow gave Ruby her mom's silver cape pin. Summer didn't leave much behind, and Qrow wanted Ruby to have something to remember her by. To his surprise, she actually started to wear it on a chain. When Ruby got accepted into combat school at Signal, Qrow had a silversmith cast a replacement for the second cross, the one he couldn't find. Before he gave it to her, Ruby held her cape on with a miniature version of her belt-buckle. She's worn the crosses instead ever since. That's how she honors Summer's memory now. Well, that and keeping Beowolves away from her grave. Dad said that she killed a whole pack by herself last time she went out there. He told me her intensity actually scared him a little."

Yang grew quiet, closing her eyes. With a sudden violence she turned and seized Blake's shoulders, her eyes red with passion. "Blake, if anything happens to me...if someday it's me who doesn't come back...I need you to swear to me that you'll look after Ruby. I promised myself the day her mom died that I'd always be there, always...that...I'd never...put who through that again. But look where we are! What we do is dangerous, and I the risks I like to take makes it even worse. I need to know that if something happens to me, Ruby won't be alone."

"I promise, if Ruby ever needs me, I'll be there. But Yang? You won't go out like her. I promise that too."

Yang was startled by Blake's tone. What does she mean? "Huh?"

"Summer died out here, alone. As long as I my heart still beats, I'll never leave you behind. I'll never let you stand alone like that. I don't know why she did it, but Ruby's mother chose to reject one of the few advantages we Huntresses have against this vicious world. She came out here, hundreds of miles from civilization, deep in the heart of a Grimm-ridden wilderness, with no partner, and she paid the ultimate price for it. Yang, I know you can be reckless, but you have to promise me that you won't make that same mistake. Ruby needs you. I need you. So promise me that you'll never try to take on the world alone."

"I promise." Yang sighed. "Well what should I do about the pin? It took Ruby years to come to terms with losing her mom. I can't open that wound again. She has closure. How could I take that from her?"

Blake thought for a moment. "There was a Faunus poet, Scorpio, who spent a year walking this forest. He wrote: For every crimson tree beneath the sky, a hundred ancient secrets do lie. You're right. Telling Ruby what we've found can only hurt her. And we're still on a mission-if she gets distracted, it could get her killed. We should surrender one more secret to this old forest."

Blake's last words flipped a switch in Yang's mind. For the first time Yang noticed the subtle beauty of the morning unfolding around her. The sun was up now, piercing the crimson forest's canopy with rays of gold. Songbirds were delighting in the sun's warmth, unleashing their symphony upon the landscape with abandon. Bands of mist still obscured the valley which stretched out east and west as far as the eye could see. I'm always talking about adventure, seeing the world, taking risks...well love's an adventure too right? Time to stop playing it safe. "Hey Blake? We probably won't get much time alone on this mission after this. And I know you're not ready to tell the others about us yet. So I was thinking...since we're alone here...maybe these trees can hold another secret? Our secret?"

"I don't think they'll object." Blake mustered all her self-control to keep her countenance stoic. She waited a moment before unleashing a devilish smile. "I know I won't."

The first wave of Grimm to emerge from the chest-high grass around the crash site broke across Kuro's gunners like a tidal wave. The lead monster shrugged off a dozen of their dust blasts, barely slowing as elemental ice and fire chipped away at his bony plate-armor. Loaded as they were with rounds meant to defeat Aura, Kuro's squad of gunners were only angering the beast before them. Seeing their deaths reflected in its black, soulless eyes, they turned their backs to the monster and ran to rejoin their comrades by the treeline.

The giant Beowolf was faster. A swipe of the monster's mighty paw knocked the closest man twenty feet into the air, the force of the blow draining half his Aura. Had his rifle not deflected the Grimm's paw, the blow would have depleted it all and snapped his spine. The beast stood and bellowed a demented snarl, as if taking pleasure in his work.

The Alpha Beowulf's victory was short lived, for the Black Talon rallied, using the reprieve bought by their wounded comrade to reload with anti-Grimm rounds. It was was shredded in an instant by their gunfire, crumbling and vanishing in a puff of acrid smoke.

Black Talon gunners began to wildly fire their fully-automatic dust repeaters into the waist high grass from which the Beowolves had emerged. Their salvo cut through the lead line of Grimm and set the grass ablaze, but did little to improve their situation. More monsters simply filled the place of those that fell; they were staring down a pack of hundreds.

Along the tree line, Kuro's situation was not much better. If there was a silver lining to this, it was that he now knew where the distress beacon was. Not that it makes my task any easier...So much for stealth. Kuro had hoped to destroy the beacon and slip away from this battle as soon as possible. The beast before him threw a wrench in those plans.

Among the hundreds of Grimm flooding the clearing, the Ursa that stood growling at Kuro was unique. His body was easily twice as large as the Ursa Majors around him. Kuro estimated him to be hundreds of years old, judging by the bony armor covering most of his exposed body and back spines thicker at their base than an oak tree.

This massive Ursa, its back bristling with bony spikes, reared on its hind legs and roared. That's when Kuro saw it-a titanium panel, once part of the crashed Bullhead, was now impaled in the monster's back. Bolted to the panel was a small black box with a red indicator, steadily blinking an S.O.S. to any who could see it.

Kuro threw himself into the melee alongside his men. He swung his schiavona with strength and speed, loping off the Grimm's arms and heads with consummate skill earned from a lifetime of combat. But all his skill and strength couldn't overcome the brutal calculus of a Grimm horde. He and six others were surrounded, and with each moment being pushed closer together. Kuro glanced to his right, seeing his gunners in a similar predicament across the clearing. A glance at his wrist-mounted scroll showed half his men below 50% Aura, and two below 10%. He doubted his own Aura would hold up much longer.

I can't die here. Not like this. Not when I'm THIS DAMN CLOSE! In that moment Kuro decided to change the game. Lives are the ultimate currency. That's what Hellbrau always says. This is a purchase I'll just have to make!

Kuro seized a canister of Burn Dust from a leather pouch on his hip. As he did so, he thumbed the activation plate on his schiavona and the blade slid apart at its mid-line, revealing a glowing blue coil which hummed with stored energy. This was Kuro's own design, a railgun derived from research on the new series of Paladin combat walkers. He called it Shackled Radiance.

Kuro slid the canister into the open pommel of his sword, twisting the pommel closed as he did so. Two shots. Make them count. He shouted above the roar of battle to the five men still fighting around him. "I'm making a distraction. When I fire, retreat southwest along the treeline. Meet me at the top of that hill, got it?" They all nodded affirmative, so Kuro made his move.

He aimed Shackled Radiance at the Black Talon gunners, who crouched behind a wing panel a hundred yards away. Blue sparks danced around the blade as Kuro held the trigger, charging the railgun's coil. Three seconds later he released the charge, and in that moment his weapon lived up to its name.

A brilliant flare from the tip of Kuro's sword bathed the valley in electric blue, and the early morning mists lit up like a thunderhead. The subsequent CRACK as Kuro's payload broke the sound barrier made him appear like the thunder god Zifu reincarnate.

A second after he fired, his payload detonated. Half a pound of burn dust ignited in the midst of his gunners. The lucky ones, those whose aura was depleted, were vaporized. Those who survived the detonation could only scream in agony as a firestorm raged around them, their Auras drained, and their bodies began to ignite.

The tortured screams of these human torches were like a drug to the Grimm. Every Grimm in the clearing descended on the firestorm, determined to feed on the agony of the dying men. The six surviving Black Talon trembled at the inhuman screams of their burning comrades. None of them dared turn around, lest the image of hell be burned into their memories. Several of them began to offer prayers for the fallen.

Kuro, still in the clearing, offered no prayer, and felt no remorse. These men were his resources, nothing more. The man felt only disgust at the cowardly screams of the dying. His only regret was that he'd wasted his lone canister of Burn Dust on a distraction. With utter calm, Kuro tracked his blade towards the monstrous Grimm who carried the transmitter. His railgun thundered again, and the creature was consumed by another inferno. When the smoke cleared, a puddle of molten titanium was all that remained.

Author's Note: I hope you are all enjoying the story so far!

First, a note on ages. By my reckoning, Aura's healing powers extend the human lifespan. So Hellbrau at 96 looks like man in his early 60's on Earth.

Also, in case the early chapters weren't clear, this is set during Beacon's Summer Break, and the Vytal Tournament comes at the end of the Summer.

This is the first real battle so far. I'd love to know what you think of the scene.

Don't forget to favorite-review-follow!