opening theme: Hibana [Tales of arise opening 1]
Visuals: Starts out showing Odyn walking forward with Ruby following behind him as it pans up to the sky upon showing the title card: Flame and Crimson. The screen briefly goes to a shot of Odyn's hands before cutting to field surrounded in flames. Ruby looks up to the sky as the silhouettes of her family members are seen walking in the background of her mind. The camera then pans to Odyn reaching a hand towards Ruby, who accepts it as the they walk forward.
The camera then pans to others within the group of friends, ranging from Khanna and Mercury fighting off Grimm, to Syrrai and Jaune training as they clash swords. Roy and Yang are seen sparring before she falls to the ground frustrated with herself momentarily before Roy offers a hand to help her up to her feet. It then pans to several lights, representing the group of friends. Odyn reaches out towards Ruby and the two of them grab hands before standing back to back with their weapons drawn.
The dark elf then draws his blade as he rushes towards a giant Grimm. After slashing it, a few times and dodging it with Roy accompanying him. They're saved by a shot from Ruby's sniper scythe. The scene then pans to Baron and Flare fighting off a wyvern Grimm with Blake, Shallot, Yang, and Sun helping. As the beast closed in, Syrrai rushes in and knocks back the beast with an Arte from her shield.
This opened up things for Daikon to blast the beast away. Odyn is then seen to be clashing swords with someone in dark armor briefly before both gain distance and charge in again for a final clash. The clash causes the screen to go white, fading into a field where everyone meets and walks off towards mistral together.
Chapter 34: Ripples & Revelations Part II
Weiss's Reaction
Outmatched: An Unexpected Messenger (Weiss's Journey)
The mountain trail narrowed as Weiss and Daikon ascended higher into the foothills separating Atlas territory from the wilderness that would eventually lead them to Mistral. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across their path, the temperature dropping with each passing hour. Weiss pulled her modified combat skirt closer around her shoulders, the reinforced fabric providing minimal protection against the growing chill.
"We should make camp soon," Daikon observed, his deep voice cutting through the silence that had settled between them for the past hour. Unlike Weiss, the cold seemed to have little effect on him—whether due to his Saiyan physiology or simply his stubborn refusal to acknowledge discomfort, Weiss couldn't tell.
She nodded curtly, conserving energy. Three days had passed since their hasty departure from the Schnee estate—three days of awkward silences, reluctant cooperation, and the occasional heated exchange that somehow always ended with them working more effectively as a team. It was their dynamic at Beacon distilled to its essence: conflict transmuted into grudging competence.
"There's a plateau about half a kilometer ahead," Daikon continued, gesturing toward a ridge line. "Defensible position. Good sightlines."
"Always the tactical assessment," Weiss muttered, though without real annoyance. She had come to appreciate his constant vigilance, especially after their narrow escape from an Atlas military patrol the previous day.
The escape from the Schnee manor still played through her mind in fragments—the silent alarm she'd triggered inadvertently, the security forces converging on her position, and then Daikon's unexpected appearance, tearing through reinforced doors with casual strength that still unnerved her. She had prepared for a solitary flight from her father's increasingly suffocating control, not for a rescue by the most infuriating exchange student she'd encountered at Beacon.
"What?" Daikon asked, catching her staring.
"Nothing," she replied automatically. "Just... still wondering how exactly you bypassed twelve layers of security to reach my quarters."
A hint of that irritating smirk crossed his features. "I told you—"
"Yes, yes, 'your barriers mean nothing to Saiyan ingenuity,'" she mimicked, rolling her eyes. "Very impressive. But also technically impossible. Those systems were designed by Atlas's top engineers."
Daikon shrugged, the motion rippling across shoulders that seemed impossibly broad compared to when they'd first met at Beacon. "Engineers design systems to stop humans. I'm not human."
That much was undeniable. Weiss had witnessed enough of his capabilities during their shared time at Beacon to understand that whatever a "Saiyan" was, it operated by different rules than any Faunus or human she had encountered. His strength, speed, and the mysterious energy he channeled were unlike any Semblance she had studied—more raw, more primal somehow.
They reached the plateau as the last light faded from the sky. While Daikon secured the perimeter, Weiss established their camp with practiced efficiency, deploying the compact dust-powered heater that had become their most valuable possession during the mountain crossing.
"Communications device is picking up a signal," Daikon announced, returning to the camp and holding out the modified scroll he'd been monitoring for news broadcasts. "First time in two days."
Weiss took it eagerly, hoping for word from Winter or any indication of their friends' whereabouts. Instead, the leading headline froze her in place:
"SCHNEE DUST COMPANY ASSETS SEIZED BY ELVEN AUTHORITY — JACQUES SCHNEE STRIPPED OF ALL TITLES AND HOLDINGS"
"What?" she whispered, her fingers trembling slightly as she expanded the article.
The report detailed what she could scarcely believe—her father had been formally tried before the newly established High Court of Albanahr for "crimes against the natural order," environmental devastation, and systematic exploitation of Faunus workers. The punishment had been absolute: complete divestiture of all corporate holdings, transfer of all mining operations to a mixed council of Faunus, elven, and human oversight, and Jacques Schnee himself confined to what amounted to house arrest in a modest Vale residence under constant supervision.
The Schnee Dust Company—her family legacy, her grandfather's creation, the economic empire that had defined her identity since birth—had effectively ceased to exist in its previous form.
"Weiss?" Daikon's voice seemed distant as she continued reading, absorbing details about how the elven crown had meticulously documented decades of corrupted business practices, safety violations, and environmental impact reports that had been systematically buried.
"I warned him," she finally said, her voice hollow. "After the elven emergence, when reports first surfaced about their interest in dust mining practices... I warned him they weren't like the regulatory bodies he was accustomed to manipulating."
Daikon settled across from her, the campfire between them casting sharp shadows across his angular features. "You don't seem surprised by the charges."
"I'm not," Weiss admitted, letting the scroll drop to her lap. "I've known about many of the... irregularities in company practices since I was fourteen. It's why Winter left. It's why I chose Beacon instead of Atlas Academy." She looked up, meeting his dark eyes directly. "What surprises me is that anyone finally had the power and will to hold him accountable."
Something shifted in Daikon's expression—not pity, which she would have resented, but a kind of recognition. "Your father built his position on strength, but never understood there's always someone stronger."
The statement was so quintessentially Daikon—blunt, slightly arrogant, yet undeniably true—that Weiss found herself smiling despite the turmoil of emotions churning beneath her carefully maintained composure.
"My grandfather built the company," she corrected automatically. "My father merely... acquired it through strategic marriage."
Daikon nodded, accepting the distinction. "And now?"
"Now..." Weiss trailed off, considering implications that branched in too many directions to process at once. Her status, her inheritance, her very identity as the Schnee heiress—all transformed overnight by decisions made continents away. "I don't know. The article mentions Whitley remains at the family estate but under some form of 'cultural education program.' Winter's position in the military remains unaffected. But the Schnee name... our legacy..."
"Your legacy isn't a company," Daikon stated with characteristic directness. "It's what you choose to build yourself."
Weiss looked up sharply, prepared to deliver a cutting response about his lack of understanding regarding familial obligations—but something in his expression stopped her. Behind the usual confidence, she glimpsed something rarely revealed: understanding born of personal experience.
"You sound like you're speaking from experience," she observed instead.
Daikon was silent for a long moment, stoking the fire with unnecessary attention. "Saiyans understand legacy," he finally said. "My people's history is... complicated. Expectations of strength, of conquest. A legacy I chose to reject."
This was more personal information than he had shared in their entire acquaintance at Beacon. Weiss found herself caught between habitual defensiveness and genuine curiosity.
"Is that why you were at Beacon? Rejecting your people's... expectations?"
"Partially," he acknowledged. "Also to grow stronger in my own way. To find worthy challenges." A hint of his familiar smirk returned. "Your Remnant has many interesting fighters."
The comfortable territory of their usual competitive banter beckoned, but Weiss found herself unwilling to retreat from this rare moment of genuine conversation.
"When I warned my father about the elven authorities," she said quietly, "he laughed. Said they were just another political faction to be managed through the usual channels—bribes, leverage, strategic alliances." She shook her head. "I tried to explain that everything I'd researched about them suggested they operated from fundamentally different principles... that they wouldn't be corrupted by the same incentives."
"He underestimated them," Daikon observed. "Fatal mistake in combat or politics."
"Yes," Weiss agreed, surprised by how accurately the Saiyan had assessed the situation. "But I didn't expect... this level of intervention. Complete restructuring of the company, environmental remediation requirements, Faunus leadership positions mandated..." She skimmed further through the article. "And this mention of 'dust extraction principles compatible with dimensional integrity'—what does that even mean?"
Daikon's expression shifted subtly. "You don't know much about the elves' actual return, do you?"
"Only what was in the public announcements," Weiss admitted. "Their emergence from hidden territories, reestablishment of diplomatic relations, claims of ancient authority over certain regions. I was... somewhat preoccupied with my own escape plans when it happened."
Daikon hesitated, then reached for his pack, extracting a worn journal that Weiss had occasionally seen him writing in during their journey.
"I've been tracking unusual energy patterns across Remnant for months," he explained, opening to pages filled with annotated maps and what appeared to be energy readings. "The elven emergence wasn't just political—it coincided with significant destabilization in what your scientists might call dimensional boundaries."
Weiss frowned, her scholarly instincts engaging despite her emotional turmoil. "You're suggesting their return is connected to some kind of... physical phenomenon? Not just a decision to end their isolation?"
"Both," Daikon confirmed. "The barriers between realms are thinning. It's why dust deposits react differently now—they're nodes where dimensional energies converge."
This was not at all what Weiss had expected when reading about her father's downfall. "How could you possibly know that?"
A flash of that infuriating confidence crossed his features. "Saiyans are sensitive to energy fluctuations. And I've... encountered dimensional boundary issues before."
Before Weiss could press for details, her scroll chimed with an incoming transmission. She glanced down at the secure channel notification—Winter's private line.
"I need to take this," she said, rising quickly.
Daikon nodded, moving away to give her privacy while remaining within protective distance—a considerate gesture that contrasted with his usual brashness.
Winter's holographic projection appeared above the scroll, her expression tightly controlled but with subtle indicators of stress that only Weiss would recognize—the slight tension around her eyes, the marginally more rigid posture.
"Weiss. You're safe." Not a question but a confirmation, Winter's relief evident despite her professional demeanor.
"Yes. I'm... traveling with an ally." Weiss deliberately avoided specifics, aware that even secure channels could be compromised.
Winter nodded curtly. "You've seen the news about Father."
"Just now. Is it... is everything in the reports accurate?"
"Broadly, yes. The situation is even more extensive than public announcements indicate." Winter's voice lowered. "The elven authorities presented evidence that Father had knowingly authorized mining operations in restricted zones—areas designated as critical to what they term 'dimensional integrity.'"
Weiss frowned, glancing toward where Daikon sat at a respectful distance. "That aligns with... information I've recently received."
"The implications extend beyond corporate malfeasance, Weiss." Winter's composure slipped momentarily, revealing genuine concern. "The elven high court claims that certain dust extraction methods have been deliberately weakening barriers that protect Remnant from... other realms. Realms connected to Grimm origins."
Weiss felt a chill that had nothing to do with the mountain air. "Are they suggesting Father knowingly endangered Remnant? That seems beyond even his moral flexibility."
"Not knowingly," Winter clarified. "They believe he was influenced—possibly through intermediate agents connected to Salem."
The name hung between them, heavy with implications. Salem—the mysterious figure that Weiss had only heard mentioned in hushed conversations between Qrow and Ozpin, a threat beyond the ordinary scope of Huntress operations.
"I find that difficult to believe," Weiss said carefully.
"As did I," Winter agreed. "But the evidence they presented..." She hesitated. "Weiss, they had documentation of meetings Father attended with individuals who have now been confirmed as Salem's agents. Financial transfers, specialized equipment allocations to mining sites precisely where dimensional vulnerabilities were greatest."
Weiss felt her worldview shifting uncomfortably. Her father was callous, manipulative, and ruthlessly profit-driven—but deliberately aligned with forces that threatened all of Remnant? It seemed inconceivable.
"What happens now?" she asked instead of voicing her doubts.
"The company is being restructured under joint oversight. Mother retains certain legacy holdings, and technically you and Whitley still have inheritance rights to specific family properties and historical assets." Winter's expression softened marginally. "You won't be destitute, Weiss, though your expectations may need... adjustment."
Weiss found herself laughing quietly, the sound brittle even to her own ears. "My expectations have been undergoing 'adjustment' since the fall of Beacon, Winter."
A rare smile crossed her sister's features. "Indeed. You've shown remarkable adaptability." The smile faded. "But there's more you should know. The elven authorities are... interested in our family for reasons beyond Father's business practices."
"What do you mean?"
"They've expressed particular interest in our Semblance—specifically, the summoning aspect. According to their researchers, it bears striking similarities to ancient techniques recorded in their archives, techniques associated with something called 'draconic resonance.'"
Weiss blinked, momentarily speechless. "Draconic... are they suggesting some connection between our family and dragons? Mythological creatures?"
"Not mythological, apparently," Winter replied with uncharacteristic uncertainty. "Their historical records are quite specific about draconic entities and their role in early Remnant development. Including..." she hesitated, "including something they call 'bloodline resonance' that allows certain descendants to manifest aspects of elemental manipulation similar to our glyphs."
The implications were too enormous to process in that moment. Weiss found herself glancing again toward Daikon, wondering if his mysterious knowledge of dimensional energies extended to these draconic connections as well.
"Winter, this is—"
"Overwhelming, I know." Winter's image flickered slightly as she moved within whatever secure location she was transmitting from. "But potentially valuable knowledge, especially given current circumstances. The elven representatives have offered to provide training in techniques that might... enhance our existing abilities."
"You're considering accepting their offer?" Weiss couldn't keep the surprise from her voice. Winter had always been the epitome of Atlas military discipline and skepticism.
"I'm considering all strategic advantages in a rapidly changing landscape," Winter corrected professionally, though her eyes conveyed deeper considerations. "And I recommend you do the same. Your journey to Mistral may need reconsideration."
"What do you mean?"
"Reports indicate unusual Grimm activity along your likely route—patterns consistent with what the elven authorities describe as 'breach phenomena.' If you encounter any Grimm that seem... atypical, exercise extreme caution."
The warning sent a chill through Weiss that had nothing to do with the mountain air. "Understood. Winter, are you... are you safe?"
A fleeting softness crossed her sister's features. "As safe as my position allows. Focus on your own journey, Weiss. And..." she hesitated, "consider carefully who you trust. Recent revelations suggest influences more subtle and far-reaching than we previously understood."
The transmission ended, leaving Weiss staring at the empty space where her sister's image had been. The fire crackled in the growing silence, casting long shadows across their small camp.
"Bad news?" Daikon asked, returning to his position across the fire.
Weiss considered deflecting with her usual practiced poise, maintaining the careful distance she'd established between them despite their forced proximity. Instead, she found herself responding with unexpected honesty.
"Complicated news," she admitted. "About my family history, elven interest in our Semblance, and something called 'draconic resonance.'"
Daikon's expression shifted to one of intense focus. "Draconic resonance? They specifically used that term?"
"Yes," Weiss confirmed, studying his reaction with growing curiosity. "You recognize it."
It wasn't a question, but Daikon nodded anyway. "Similar concepts exist across multiple dimensions. Powers derived from ancient bloodlines, elemental affinities passed through generations..." He studied her with renewed interest. "Your summoning ability. It draws on connections to beings you've defeated, yes?"
"In a sense," Weiss acknowledged. "I can manifest spectral versions of opponents I've overcome, channel their abilities through my glyphs."
"Not just memory," Daikon stated with unexpected certainty. "You're accessing dimensional echoes—imprints these beings left on the fabric of reality. Very few humans possess that capacity naturally."
Weiss bristled slightly at his presumptuous analysis, then caught herself. This defensive reaction was precisely the pattern they had established at Beacon—his directness triggering her pride, leading to verbal sparring that ultimately avoided deeper conversation.
"You speak as if you've encountered this before," she observed instead.
Daikon hesitated, then nodded once. "My travels haven't been limited to this world. The multiverse is... extensive."
Under normal circumstances, Weiss would have dismissed such a claim as absurd bravado. But after everything that had transpired—the fall of Beacon, the elven emergence, her father's downfall, and Winter's revelations—she found her definition of "possible" expanding rapidly.
"These dimensional boundaries that are weakening," she said slowly, "they're connected to the increasing Grimm activity, aren't they? And to whatever this 'draconic resonance' is."
"Yes." Daikon's typical brevity conveyed absolute certainty.
Something clicked in Weiss's analytical mind. "That's why you helped me escape. Not out of... whatever I assumed your motivations were." A flush threatened to rise in her cheeks as she recalled her private speculations about his reasons for tracking her down. "You need someone with my abilities."
For the first time since she'd known him, Daikon appeared momentarily uncomfortable. "Not... entirely inaccurate."
"Then why—"
"Both things can be true," he interrupted, meeting her gaze directly across the fire. "Your abilities are potentially significant for what's coming. And I also..." he hesitated, clearly struggling with uncharacteristic uncertainty, "respected your determination at Beacon. Your refusal to accept limitations placed on you. Your growth."
The compliment, delivered with such awkward sincerity, caught Weiss entirely off guard. Heat rose to her cheeks despite her best efforts at composure.
"Oh," she managed, despising how inarticulate she suddenly felt.
A familiar smirk threatened at the corner of Daikon's mouth. "Did I finally silence the great Weiss Schnee? Should I alert the Vale news networks?"
And just like that, they were back on familiar ground—his teasing breaking the tension of vulnerability, her irritation providing comfortable distance from emotions she wasn't prepared to examine.
"Hardly," she retorted, though without real heat. "I was simply processing the strategic implications of this 'draconic resonance' concept. If Winter is being approached about training, and my summoning ability is connected to these dimensional boundaries..."
"Then your path forward might not be as straightforward as reaching Mistral and reuniting with your team," Daikon completed her thought.
"Exactly." Weiss frowned, considering alternatives. "Winter mentioned unusual Grimm activity along our planned route—something called 'breach phenomena.'"
Daikon's expression turned serious. "She's right to warn you. These aren't ordinary Grimm. They're... corrupted by energies leaking through weakened boundaries. More intelligent. More purpose-driven."
"You've encountered them?"
"Twice since tracking you to Atlas." His matter-of-fact tone couldn't quite disguise what Weiss recognized as concern. "They can sense dimensional energy manipulation—which means they can potentially track both your Semblance usage and my ki techniques."
Weiss absorbed this with growing unease. "So we're potentially walking targets if we use our abilities."
"Yes. But also uniquely equipped to combat them if necessary."
The contradiction wasn't lost on Weiss. She stared into the fire, contemplating the multiple paths now branching before her—continuing to Mistral as planned, seeking out this elven training Winter had mentioned, or perhaps something else entirely.
"You know," she said after a long moment, "when I left Atlas, my goal was simple: escape my father's control and reunite with whatever remained of my team. Now..." she gestured vaguely at the scroll still displaying headlines about the Schnee company's dissolution. "My father has lost everything I was running from, I've discovered my family might have connections to literal dragons, and interdimensional boundaries are apparently failing across Remnant."
"An interesting situation," Daikon observed with characteristic understatement.
Weiss surprised herself by laughing—a genuine sound rather than her practiced social chuckle. "Yes, you could call it that."
Their eyes met across the fire, and something shifted in the space between them—not just the usual competitive tension but something more complex. Recognition, perhaps, of shared purpose despite their different origins. Or something... else that Weiss wasn't quite ready to name.
"We should reach the valley crossing by midday tomorrow," Daikon said, breaking the moment with practical considerations. "From there, we have options—continue toward Mistral as planned, or divert toward the nearest elven outpost for more information about these draconic connections."
"And which would you recommend, given your vast interdimensional experience?" Weiss asked, unable to entirely suppress the sarcastic edge that habitually colored their interactions.
Daikon considered her question with surprising seriousness. "The fighter in me wants to press forward, confront whatever these breach phenomena are directly." His expression shifted to something more measured. "But strategic thinking suggests gathering information first."
"How uncharacteristically cautious of you," Weiss observed, though without real mockery.
"Even Saiyans can learn," he replied with a hint of that infuriating half-smile.
As night deepened around their camp, Weiss found herself in the unfamiliar position of appreciating Daikon's presence beyond his obvious utility as a powerful ally. Despite their frequent clashes at Beacon, he had never treated her as merely the Schnee heiress—had always engaged with her as a fighter in her own right, challenging and respecting her abilities without regard for her name or status.
Now, as that name and status underwent radical transformation, there was something steadying about his unchanged assessment of her. Whatever complicated feelings might be developing between them—and Weiss reluctantly admitted to herself that something definitely was developing—they were based on who they were as individuals, not on legacy or obligation.
"We'll decide in the morning," she finally said, reaching for her sleeping pack. "After I've had time to process everything."
Daikon nodded, rising to take first watch with the casual confidence of someone for whom danger was a familiar companion rather than a threat. "Rest. I'll wake you in four hours."
As Weiss settled into her sleeping roll, her thoughts drifted between the shocking news of her father's downfall, Winter's revelations about draconic connections, and the unexpected path that had brought her into partnership with the most aggravating and yet increasingly intriguing Saiyan in Remnant.
Whatever tomorrow's decision might be, one thing was becoming clear—the journey ahead would require her to become something beyond the Schnee heiress she had been raised to be. Perhaps something closer to the person she had glimpsed possibilities of becoming during her time at Beacon, before everything had fallen apart.
And perhaps—though she would never admit this aloud—having Daikon's irritating, challenging, steadfast presence beside her in that journey was not entirely unwelcome.
With Baron & Flare, not far from Mistral...
Outmatched: An Unexpected Messenger (The Transition)
The moment of relative calm was short-lived. As Baron and Flare rejoined the group inside, they immediately sensed a shift in the room's atmosphere. Odyn stood at the center, the ancient scroll laid carefully across the main table, but his attention wasn't on the parchment—his gaze was fixed on Ruby, a complex mixture of concern and something else flickering across his features.
Baron's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the scene. Something was different about Ruby—something he couldn't immediately place but that his centuries of observation had detected nonetheless. The young huntress moved with a subtle fluidity that hadn't been present during their previous meeting, her posture altered almost imperceptibly.
"Before we proceed with the scroll analysis," Jaune began awkwardly, glancing between Baron, Flare, and Ruby, "there's, uh, something else you should probably know about."
Nora bounced on her heels, clearly struggling to contain herself. "Oh, this is even better than the wedding news! Can I tell them? Please?"
"Nora," Ren cautioned gently, but Ruby waved a dismissive hand.
"It's fine," she said. "They're going to notice anyway." She stepped forward into the better light near the window, and now the changes were unmistakable.
Baron and Flare exchanged startled glances. Ruby stood noticeably taller than they remembered—at least three inches more than when they'd last seen her. But more striking were the subtle alterations to her features: her formerly jet-black hair now showed distinct streaks of a pale, iridescent blue that complemented the darker strands, and when she tucked a lock behind her ear—
Her ear.
Flare inhaled sharply. The human roundness was giving way to a distinct point, not yet as pronounced as a full-blooded elf's but unmistakably changing.
"As you can see," Ruby said with a nervous laugh, "I've had some... developments since you left."
"You're undergoing elven transition," Baron stated flatly, his tone carefully neutral but his eyes darting momentarily to Odyn, who met his gaze with equal intensity.
"That's impossible," Flare whispered, stepping closer to examine Ruby with undisguised curiosity. "Humans don't simply... become elves."
"Most humans don't," Sarai corrected, her voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of something like wonder. "But Ruby's bloodline has always been... unique."
"The silver eyes," Baron realized, understanding dawning. "They're not just a warrior trait—they're an indicator of ancient lineage."
Ruby nodded, unconsciously touching her ear again—a gesture that suggested she was still adjusting to its new shape. "According to what Odyn and Sarai have discovered in the High Court archives, the silver-eyed warriors descended from a specific union between high elves and humans thousands of years ago."
"Most such unions result in children who carry minor elven traits that diminish over generations," Odyn explained, his tone scholarly despite the personal nature of the discussion. "But the silver eyes mark a bloodline where the elven essence remained dormant rather than diluted—potentially for activation under specific circumstances."
Something in his phrasing made Flare's ears twitch forward attentively. "Specific circumstances?" she repeated, her gaze moving between Ruby and Odyn with growing suspicion.
Ruby's cheeks flushed a delicate pink. "Well, that's the other part of the explanation..." she began.
"They've been together," Nora blurted out, gesturing dramatically between Ruby and Odyn. "Romantically! Like, a lot! And apparently high elven... intimacy... can trigger dormant elven traits in someone with the right bloodline!"
"NORA!" Ruby's face now matched her crimson cloak, her silver eyes wide with mortification.
Baron blinked slowly, absorbing this information with remarkable composure despite his evident surprise. "I see," he said simply, turning to Odyn with a raised eyebrow.
The high elf met his gaze steadily. "It was not an anticipated outcome," he stated with characteristic dignity. "The archives mentioned potential 'awakening' of dormant traits through deep connection with high elven energy, but there have been no documented cases for over two millennia."
"In other words," Qrow drawled from his position against the wall, where he had been silently observing the exchange, "no one bothered to warn Ruby that getting involved with a high elf might literally change her species." Despite his sardonic tone, there was genuine concern in his eyes as he looked at his niece.
"Would it have mattered if they had?" Ruby countered, a flash of defiance breaking through her embarrassment. "Some things are worth the risk."
The simple conviction in her voice struck Flare powerfully. She recognized the same certainty she had felt when accepting the soul-binding with Baron—that bone-deep knowledge that some connections transcended conventional wisdom and caution.
"How far will the transformation progress?" Flare asked, directing her question to Sarai, who seemed the most knowledgeable about the condition.
"Uncertain," the high elven ranger admitted. "The process appears to be stabilizing, but the final outcome remains unpredictable. She will retain her human heritage alongside emerging elven traits—a true bridge between our peoples, in a sense."
"A living embodiment of union rather than division," Baron observed thoughtfully. "Particularly significant given current tensions between elven courts and human kingdoms."
"Which reminds me," Blake interjected, stepping forward from where she'd been monitoring communications. "We've just received an urgent message from Yang. She's en route from Patch... with Roy."
This announcement created another ripple of surprise through the room. Sarai's normally composed features registered clear shock.
"My brother is coming here?" she asked, looking to Odyn for confirmation. "Roy actually left the ancestral groves?"
"Apparently, Yang can be very persuasive," Blake replied with the ghost of a smile. "According to her message, they'll arrive by tomorrow morning. She says—and I'm quoting directly—'Roy has critical information about the artifact that can't be trusted to communication channels, and also he won't shut up about wanting to see his siblings' faces when they meet his new girlfriend.'"
"Girlfriend?" Sarai and Odyn exclaimed in perfect unison, their typical reserve completely abandoned.
"I may have forgotten to mention that part," Ruby admitted sheepishly. "Yang and Roy have been... corresponding since that diplomatic mission to Patch three months ago. When I told her about what was happening with me, she reached out to him as an expert on elven bloodlines, and apparently their communication evolved into something more."
"Roy," Odyn repeated, sounding utterly bewildered. "Our brother Roy—who once swore a century-long oath of solitude after a human settlement expanded into his favorite meditation glade—is now voluntarily traveling with a human woman he considers his 'girlfriend'?"
"The world truly is ending," Sarai murmured, though her shock seemed to be giving way to reluctant amusement.
Baron cleared his throat, drawing attention back to the more urgent matters at hand. "While these personal developments are certainly... unexpected," he said diplomatically, "perhaps we should refocus on the dimensional threat indicated by the scroll."
"Actually, the two matters might be related," Ruby pointed out. "According to Yang's message, Roy believes the artifact's appearance now is directly connected to the increasing instances of elven-human connection—that someone or something is deliberately trying to prevent further integration between our species."
Flare's eyes widened at the implication. "A forced separation of bloodlines?"
"Or worse," Baron added grimly. "If the artifact genuinely connects to the Abyssal Depths as we suspect, it could be designed to identify and target those with mixed heritage first—a magical purge disguised as an invaluable treasure."
Ruby unconsciously moved closer to Odyn, whose protective stance shifted subtly to accommodate her presence at his side. The gesture was small but spoke volumes about the depth of their connection.
"Then we have until tomorrow morning to prepare for Roy's arrival and the additional information he brings," Ruby summarized, her leadership qualities undiminished by her physical transformation. "In the meantime, we need to secure the perimeter against potential intrusion and analyze everything we currently know about the artifact."
As the group dispersed to their assigned tasks, Baron caught Flare's eye. "Interesting developments," he murmured privately.
"More than interesting," she replied softly. "Ruby's transformation represents something unprecedented in modern history—a true blending of bloodlines rather than simple coexistence. If others learn what's happening to her..."
"She becomes not just a tactical leader but a symbol," Baron finished her thought. "One that certain factions would find deeply threatening."
"And others might rally behind," Flare added. "This complicates our mission considerably."
Baron's expression softened slightly. "Though perhaps it helps explain why Odyn has been uncharacteristically invested in human affairs these past months. I had wondered what drew him away from the High Court's isolation."
Flare smiled faintly. "Just as certain ice fox clan elders might wonder what drew an ancient dark elf warrior to their remote village?"
"Some connections defy conventional explanation," Baron acknowledged, the pendant between them warming in response to their shared understanding.
Their moment of private reflection was interrupted by Jaune's call from the communications array, where a new message was incoming—another update from Yang, with coordinates for a secure rendezvous point different from their current location.
As they moved to join the others, Flare noticed Ruby standing momentarily alone by the window, her fingers tracing the newly pointed tip of her ear with an expression of wonder and uncertainty. Despite all her strength and leadership qualities, in that moment she looked vulnerable—a young woman caught between worlds, navigating changes to her very identity while simultaneously carrying the weight of their mission.
Without discussion, Flare detoured from their path and approached Ruby. "The first changes are the strangest," she offered quietly. "When I first left the ice fox clan territories and discovered how my traits manifested differently outside our ancestral lands, I spent weeks adjusting to new sensitivities and abilities."
Ruby turned to her with genuine gratitude for the understanding. "How did you manage it? The enhanced hearing alone is driving me crazy—I can hear conversations from two rooms away now."
"Selective focus," Flare advised. "Think of it like aiming a weapon—you don't register every potential target simultaneously, you choose where to direct your attention." She demonstrated with a subtle movement of her own ears. "With practice, it becomes instinctive."
"Thanks," Ruby said sincerely. "I... haven't had many people to ask about this. Odyn tries to help, but some of these things are so natural to him that he struggles to explain them."
"Perhaps that's where my experience might prove useful," Flare suggested. "Navigating between worlds has always been necessary for those of us from isolated elven communities. I could share some techniques that might ease your transition."
The relief in Ruby's expression was immediate and profound. "I'd appreciate that more than you know."
As they rejoined the group, Flare caught Baron watching their interaction with approval. Their unspoken communication conveyed his support for her offer of mentorship to Ruby—and his recognition that in this unexpected development lay possibilities for greater understanding between humans and elves, perhaps even a pathway toward healing ancient divisions.
The pending arrival of Roy and Yang would undoubtedly bring new complications and revelations. But for now, they had preparations to make, strategies to develop, and—it seemed—transitions of various kinds to navigate together.
The dimensional threat loomed large, but so did the potential for unexpected alliances and evolutions. As Baron had observed, some connections defied conventional explanation—and perhaps therein lay their greatest strength against the challenges to come.
Outmatched: An Unexpected Messenger (Hidden Connections)
The safehouse hummed with activity as afternoon stretched into evening. Maps were updated, communications monitored, and theories exchanged about the nature of the dimensional artifact. Baron had just finished explaining a particularly complex elven theory on planar boundaries when Odyn's scroll chimed with a distinctive tone—one that caused both him and Sarai to exchange meaningful glances.
"Secure frequency?" Baron inquired, recognizing the signal pattern used exclusively by high elven royal couriers.
Odyn nodded subtly. "If you'll excuse me a moment," he said to the group, his tone casual but his posture suddenly alert. "Sarai, perhaps you should join me."
The siblings withdrew to the adjacent room, closing the door behind them. Most of the group returned to their tasks, but Flare noticed Qrow's shoulders tense almost imperceptibly, his gaze following the elven siblings with unusual intensity.
Minutes later, Odyn and Sarai returned. Something in their expressions had shifted—a mixture of anticipation and concern that they were clearly attempting to mask.
"Additional information?" Ruby asked, picking up on the subtle change immediately—her developing elven senses apparently enhancing her already keen perception.
"Yes," Odyn confirmed, choosing his words with careful precision. "It seems we'll have more visitors than just Yang and Roy. Our cousin Khanna is also en route to Mistral."
"Khanna?" Blake repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I don't recall you mentioning a cousin before."
"She prefers to be called Seraphina now," Sarai explained, a hint of old exasperation coloring her melodic voice. "A name she adopted after leaving the High Court to explore human territories fifty years ago."
"Always had a flair for the dramatic," Odyn added, though his tone carried a certain fondness. "She's bringing potentially vital information about the artifact—apparently she encountered similar objects during her travels through the eastern territories."
"Is she traveling alone?" Baron asked, his expression suggesting he already suspected the answer.
Odyn and Sarai exchanged another of those significant glances before Sarai answered. "No. She's accompanied by Mercury."
This announcement dropped like a stone into still water, sending ripples of shock through the room.
"Mercury Black?" Ruby exclaimed, silver eyes widening. "Emerald's former partner? The one who worked with Cinder?"
"The same," Odyn confirmed gravely. "Though according to Seraphina, the situation is... complicated."
"Complicated how?" Jaune demanded, his hand instinctively moving toward his weapon. "Last time we encountered Mercury, he was actively trying to kill us."
"Apparently," Sarai continued carefully, "Mercury and Seraphina share a history that predates his association with Salem's faction. They were childhood acquaintances before Mercury's father began training him as an assassin."
"That's hard to believe," Nora said skeptically. "Mercury never mentioned knowing any elves."
"He wouldn't have remembered," Odyn explained. "High elven encounters are typically removed from human memory through enchantment—especially when they involve children. It's standard protocol for maintaining separation between our worlds."
"But now he remembers?" Ruby pressed, clearly struggling to reconcile this information with their previous experiences with Mercury.
"Seraphina claims his memories have returned," Sarai confirmed. "She encountered him three months ago in Vacuo and performed a memory restoration ritual when she recognized him."
"And now they're what—friends?" Yang asked through the communication link, her voice crackling slightly over the connection. She had called in during the discussion, listening remotely as she and Roy traveled toward Mistral.
Qrow, who had remained unusually silent throughout this exchange, suddenly gave a short, humorless laugh. "Bit more than friends from what I gathered," he muttered, just loudly enough to be heard.
Odyn shot him a warning glance before addressing the group. "According to Seraphina, they have developed a... significant personal connection since their reunion."
"You mean they're lovers," Flare stated bluntly, her fox clan heritage showing in her directness. "That's what you're trying to politely imply."
"Yes," Sarai acknowledged, her typically composed features showing a flicker of discomfort. "Seraphina has apparently formed a romantic attachment with Mercury following the restoration of his memories."
"So let me get this straight," Ruby said slowly. "Your cousin, who's an elven royal, is romantically involved with Mercury Black—former assassin, Salem's former agent, and someone who tried to sabotage the Vytal Tournament—and they're coming here, to our secure location, together?"
"That summarizes the situation, yes," Odyn confirmed with remarkable calm.
The room erupted into overlapping voices—concerns about security, questions about Mercury's trustworthiness, and expressions of disbelief. Through it all, Baron observed Qrow's reaction carefully. The veteran huntsman seemed unusually fixated on his drink, deliberately avoiding eye contact with anyone.
When the initial commotion subsided, Baron spoke carefully. "I notice you mentioned two people accompanying Seraphina, yet you've only identified Mercury."
The room fell suddenly silent as everyone realized the same omission. Odyn's expression remained neutral, but a subtle tension appeared around his eyes.
"Yes," Sarai answered when her brother didn't immediately respond. "The third traveler is..." She hesitated, glancing briefly at Qrow, whose grip had tightened visibly around his flask.
"An old acquaintance," Odyn finished smoothly. "Someone with significant knowledge of the artifact and connections to both elven and human diplomatic channels."
Ruby's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're being evasive. Who is this person?"
Before either elven sibling could respond, Qrow set down his flask with deliberate care. "Her name is Lailah," he stated flatly, not looking up. "Dark elven caster. Specializes in interdimensional physics and boundary magic."
Something in his tone made Flare's ears prick forward attentively. There was history there—deep and complicated.
"You know her?" Ruby asked her uncle, clearly surprised.
"Yeah," Qrow replied with uncharacteristic brevity. "I know her."
The tension in the room shifted, becoming something more personal. Baron and Flare exchanged glances, years of partnership allowing them to silently communicate their shared suspicion about the nature of Qrow's connection to this mysterious dark elf.
"Lailah is a respected advisor to several elven courts," Odyn elaborated carefully. "Her expertise will be invaluable in understanding the artifact's true purpose."
"And she happens to be related to Odyn and Sarai," Baron observed quietly, the pieces falling into place based on Qrow's reaction and Odyn's careful phrasing. "Hence the private communication channel."
Sarai's surprised glance confirmed his deduction. "How did you—"
"The signal pattern used only by high elven royalty, combined with Qrow's reaction," Baron explained. "The connection seemed logical."
"Wait," Ruby interrupted, looking between her uncle and the elven siblings with growing confusion. "If this Lailah person is related to Odyn and Sarai, and Qrow knows her well enough to recognize her specialty in obscure elven magic..."
The implication hung in the air, unspoken but increasingly obvious.
"She's my aunt," Odyn finally acknowledged, watching Qrow carefully as he did so. "My mother's sister."
"Your mother being Hyuuan," Baron filled in, the name triggering immediate recognition. "The Dark Elven High Queen."
Another ripple of shock passed through the room as this connection registered. Even Blake, typically composed, looked startled by this revelation.
"Your aunt is coming here," Ruby repeated slowly, looking at Odyn, "and Qrow knows her..." Her silver eyes widened as understanding dawned. "Uncle Qrow, how exactly do you know the sister of the Dark Elven High Queen?"
All eyes turned to Qrow, who finally looked up with a resigned expression. For a long moment, he said nothing, then sighed deeply.
"She's my wife," he stated simply.
The silence that followed was absolute. Even the ambient sounds of the safehouse seemed to fade away as everyone processed this revelation.
"Your WHAT?" Ruby finally managed, her voice jumping nearly an octave.
"Wife," Qrow repeated, a hint of his usual sardonic humor returning. "You know, that thing where two people decide to formally complicate each other's lives for the foreseeable future." He nodded toward Baron and Flare. "They just did it, remember?"
"But—but—" Ruby sputtered, clearly struggling to align this information with everything she thought she knew about her uncle. "When? How? Why didn't you ever tell us?"
"It's complicated," Qrow replied, unconsciously echoing Odyn's earlier description of Mercury and Seraphina's relationship.
"Twenty-three years, if I'm not mistaken," Odyn supplied, his expression unreadable. "Shortly after the incident at the Obsidian Spire."
"Twenty-five," Qrow corrected quietly. "And yeah, after the Spire."
Yang's voice crackled through the communication link again, her shock evident even through the static. "Are you saying you've been married to a dark elf for twenty-five years and never bothered to mention it to any of us? To Dad? To ME?"
The hurt in her voice was palpable, even transmitted across distance.
"It wasn't my secret alone to keep," Qrow responded, a rare note of defensiveness entering his tone. "Lailah's position at court required discretion. Our marriage was... politically complicated."
"That's putting it mildly," Sarai murmured. "A human huntsman married to the High Queen's sister created quite the diplomatic situation."
"Wait," Blake interjected, her analytical mind catching up to another implication. "If Lailah is Qrow's wife, and she's the sister to Odyn and Sarai's mother... that makes Qrow their uncle by marriage."
All eyes shifted between Qrow and the elven siblings as this family connection registered.
"Yes," Odyn confirmed with remarkable composure. "Though we've maintained professional boundaries in public settings due to the sensitive nature of the relationship."
"So let me get this straight," Nora began, counting points on her fingers. "Ruby is turning into an elf because of her relationship with Odyn, who is actually Qrow's nephew by marriage, because Qrow secretly married a dark elven princess twenty-five years ago. Meanwhile, Yang is dating Roy, who is Odyn and Sarai's brother, which makes him Qrow's nephew too, and also makes Yang and Ruby's relationships weirdly parallel. AND on top of all that, their elven royal cousin is bringing her assassin boyfriend to our secret meeting, along with Qrow's secret wife who nobody knew about until literally just now."
Put so succinctly, the tangled web of relationships sounded even more improbable.
"That about covers it," Qrow acknowledged dryly. "Though you missed the part where Lailah is also an expert on exactly the kind of dimensional artifact we're currently investigating, which is probably more relevant to our mission than my marital status."
"Why keep it secret all these years?" Ruby asked quietly, hurt evident in her voice. "From me and Yang especially?"
Qrow's expression softened slightly. "It was never about not trusting you, kiddo. Lailah's position at court put her at risk if certain factions discovered her connection to humans. We agreed early on that separation was the safest approach—I'd handle human affairs, she'd manage elven politics, and we'd meet when circumstances allowed."
"Which wasn't often, I assume," Baron observed, recognizing the familiar challenges of cross-cultural relationships.
"Not nearly often enough," Qrow admitted, a flicker of old pain crossing his features. "But necessary, given what was at stake."
"And now she's coming here," Ruby stated, processing all these revelations. "Along with this Seraphina and Mercury."
"Yes," Odyn confirmed. "They should arrive approximately twelve hours after Yang and Roy—tomorrow evening, based on their last communication."
Through the link, Yang's voice came again—quieter now, the initial shock giving way to hurt confusion. "Were you ever going to tell us about her? If this situation hadn't forced it?"
Qrow was silent for a long moment before answering. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "Lailah and I discussed it many times over the years. The longer it remained secret, the harder it became to find the right moment."
"We should wait to discuss this further until you arrive," Sarai suggested diplomatically. "There are... additional considerations that would be better addressed in person."
"What additional considerations?" Yang demanded suspiciously.
Odyn and Sarai exchanged yet another of those meaningful glances that suggested layers of unspoken communication.
"It would be preferable to wait—" Odyn began, but Qrow cut him off.
"No more secrets," he stated firmly. "Yang deserves to know before she gets here." He took a deep breath. "Lailah and I have a son. Your cousin."
This revelation stunned even Baron, who had thought himself beyond surprise at this point.
"A SON?" Yang's voice cracked with emotion. "I have a COUSIN I've never met?"
"Half-elven," Qrow confirmed quietly. "He's been raised primarily in the elven realms for his protection. His name is Corvan."
"And he's currently serving as junior ambassador to the Ice Fox Clan territories," Sarai added, glancing at Flare. "Which is why Baron and Flare may have encountered references to him during their visit, though perhaps not by name."
Flare's eyes widened with sudden recognition. "The young half-elven diplomat who arrived shortly before we departed... That was your son?"
Qrow nodded. "Sounds about right. He's been moving between courts for the past few years, building diplomatic connections while keeping his human heritage relatively quiet."
"This is..." Ruby trailed off, clearly struggling to process so many revelations at once. "I don't even know what to say."
"You could start with 'hello cousin' when you meet him," Qrow suggested with forced lightness. "He's been curious about both of you for years. Especially since he heard about Ruby's silver eyes."
"He's coming too?" Blake asked, trying to keep track of all the incoming visitors.
"Eventually," Odyn confirmed. "After completing his diplomatic mission to the Ice Fox territories. Lailah will have more specific information on his timeline."
The revelation of so many interconnected relationships had clearly unsettled the group. Ruby looked particularly overwhelmed—not surprising given that she was simultaneously adjusting to her own physical transformation while discovering that her family was far more complex than she'd ever realized.
"I think," Baron interjected calmly, "that we should return our focus to immediate priorities. These personal connections, while significant, don't change our core mission regarding the artifact."
"Agreed," Ruby said with visible relief, clearly grateful for the redirection. "We need to prepare for all these arrivals while maintaining our investigation. Baron, Flare—since you've had recent contact with the Ice Fox territories where Corvan is stationed, could you review your findings for any information that might connect to his diplomatic work there?"
"Of course," Flare agreed, impressed with Ruby's ability to regain her focus despite the emotional revelations.
"Odyn, Sarai," Ruby continued, "please prepare a complete briefing on Lailah's expertise and what specific knowledge she might bring regarding the artifact. And Qrow..."
She paused, meeting her uncle's gaze with a complex mixture of hurt, confusion, and the deep affection that had always characterized their relationship.
"We'll talk more later," she finished simply.
Qrow nodded, understanding everything the simple statement implied—that they would work through this revelation, but that it would take time.
As the group dispersed to their assignments, Baron observed the subtle redistributions of relationships and power dynamics occurring in real time. Ruby stood slightly closer to Odyn now, as if the revelation of their family connection—however unexpected and indirect—had shifted something fundamental in their relationship. Qrow moved with a curious mixture of tension and relief, as if a long-carried burden had been partially lifted. And through the communication link, Yang's voice had taken on a determined quality as she discussed arrival coordinates with Blake—processing her emotions by focusing on practical matters, as was her way.
Later, when most of the others had retired to their assigned quarters for a few hours of rest before Yang and Roy's scheduled arrival, Baron found Flare standing alone on the balcony again, her gaze directed toward the distant mountain range where the Ice Fox territories lay beyond several weeks' journey.
"Thinking about Corvan?" he asked quietly, joining her at the railing.
"About all of it," she replied. "The connections that have existed beneath the surface all this time. Qrow's marriage to a dark elven royal. Ruby's transformation. Yang and Roy. Seraphina and Mercury." She shook her head slightly. "Even our own binding seems less unconventional in comparison."
Baron smiled faintly. "Perhaps that's the pattern we've been missing in our analysis of the dimensional disturbances. Not just random breaches, but responses to increasingly frequent connections between human and elven bloodlines."
"Connections that someone or something wishes to prevent," Flare added, following his reasoning. "If the artifact truly targets mixed heritage as we suspect—"
"Then every person arriving at this safehouse over the next two days represents exactly what this unknown enemy fears most," Baron finished. "Integration. Cooperation. Union."
They stood in contemplative silence for a moment, watching as the first stars appeared above Mistral's distant spires.
"Tomorrow will bring Yang and Roy," Flare noted. "And the day after, this Seraphina and Mercury, along with Qrow's wife—a woman whose existence reshapes everything we thought we understood about him."
"And eventually Corvan," Baron added. "A young man whose very existence represents the future possibility of our worlds."
The pendant warmed between them, responding to their shared understanding of what was truly at stake—not just dimensional stability, but the potential for a new kind of future where the ancient divisions between human and elf might finally begin to heal.
"We should rest," Baron suggested finally. "Tomorrow will bring challenges enough."
As they turned to go inside, Flare caught sight of Ruby standing alone at the end of the hallway, her fingers once again tracing the pointed tip of her ear with that same expression of wonder and uncertainty. But now there was something else in her silver eyes—a new determination, as if the evening's revelations had clarified something important for her.
The young huntress—now becoming something both more and different—met Flare's gaze and nodded slightly, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Whatever came next, they would face it together, this strange family being forged through unexpected bonds and ancient magic alike.
And as the safehouse settled into uneasy quiet, somewhere in the darkness beyond Mistral's borders, three travelers made their way steadily closer—a dark elven princess returning to her secret husband after too long apart, an elven aristocrat with her reformed assassin lover, and a dimensional expert carrying crucial knowledge about the artifact that threatened everything these newfound connections represented.
Morning would bring Yang and Roy, evening would bring the others, and somewhere beyond both, a young half-elven diplomat named Corvan was preparing to meet the human family he had heard about all his life but never been permitted to know.
The board was set. The players were converging. And the artifact pulsed somewhere in Mistral's depths, waiting.
To be continued in Chapter 35: Hidden connections & Family secrets