The Awakening Power
The wind whispered across Mistral's skyline as Cinder Fall stood motionless at the railing, her amber eyes distant. Her mind was not here in the present but trapped in the past—in the memories of that fateful night atop Beacon Tower. The recollection came unbidden, vivid and searing as if it had happened only yesterday, not months ago.
She remembered the feeling of triumph as she stood over the fallen form of Pyrrha Nikos, the so-called "Invincible Girl" now defeated at her feet. The power of the Fall Maiden surged through her veins as she placed her palm against Pyrrha's forehead.
"Don't worry," Cinder had said, her voice dripping with satisfaction as flames ignited at her fingertips. "I'll use these powers better than you ever could."
The intense heat had erupted from her hand, engulfing Pyrrha's head in a brilliant flash of orange flame. Cinder had expected to feel the girl's aura shatter, to watch her body disintegrate into ash as so many others had before her. Instead, she felt something unexpected—fingers wrapping around her wrist with crushing force.
A low chuckle reached her ears. Cinder's eyes widened as she realized the body before her hadn't vanished. Something was terribly wrong.
"Nice speech there, witch. But don't assume you've won that easily!"
The voice that emerged from Pyrrha's lips wasn't hers—it was deeper, older, filled with ancient knowledge and power. Before Cinder could react, a boot connected with her stomach, sending her skidding backward across the tower's surface.
Cinder regained her footing, eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at the figure before her. Pyrrha's body was surrounded by a golden glow that pulsed and shimmered like a living thing. But it was the eyes that made Cinder's blood run cold—no longer emerald green but a fiery orange that blazed like the sun itself.
"H-How are you—" Cinder stammered, her usual confidence faltering. "Wait... no... Those eyes! Who... who are you?!"
The ornaments in Pyrrha's crimson hair clattered to the floor as her appearance began to transform. Her hair lengthened, growing wilder. Her skin darkened to a rich brown tone, and her ears elongated to delicate points. The metamorphosis was mesmerizing and terrifying all at once.
"I'm surprised you've forgotten me," the being said, using Pyrrha's mouth to speak words that were not her own. "The one you killed all those years ago. Of course... it has been four years since then, Cinder Fall."
A wave of recognition and horror washed over Cinder's face. "No... it can't be... how... HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?!"
Small, intricate patterns like tattoos began to materialize on the transformed Pyrrha's forehead. The golden light intensified, erupting skyward in a pillar that pierced the night. The very ground beneath them trembled with the display of raw power.
Throughout Vale, students and citizens alike raised their heads to witness columns of golden light shooting into the darkened sky from various locations. The earth shook beneath their feet as if the world itself was responding to the mysterious phenomenon.
Neptune steadied himself against a wall, eyes wide with confusion. "What the—?! H-Hailfire, what's going on?"
Beside him, Hailfire gazed upward, a knowing smile playing across his lips. "Ah... So it's begun then."
Across the city, more pillars of light appeared wherever Elves stood. Near the tower's base, Odyn too was surrounded by the golden radiance, much to Weiss Schnee's confusion.
"O-Odyn? Would you care to tell me what is happening?" she demanded, her rapier gripped tightly in her hand.
Odyn turned to her, his expression solemn yet somehow satisfied. "Simple. It seems the reincarnation spell has now activated. My sister has returned to us. The spell just strengthens us other elves and unseals our true abilities."
Weiss's eyes widened. "So... in other words, you're even stronger now?!"
Odyn nodded once, then looked toward the top of the tower where the brightest column of light originated. "Stay here, Weiss. I'll check on Ruby." Without waiting for a response, he launched himself upward, rocketing toward the tower's summit.
Weiss could only stare as pillars of light continued to stretch skyward from all across the city. "What... is happening now?" she whispered to herself.
Meanwhile, within the depths of Pyrrha's consciousness, the young huntress-in-training found herself floating in a void. A familiar voice called out to her.
"Pyrrha!"
She opened her eyes slowly, feeling weaker than she'd ever felt before. Before her stood the dark elf whose spirit had shared her body for so long. "S-Sarai...?" she answered, her voice little more than a whisper.
"Oh! Thank, Udiya!" Relief washed over Sarai's features.
"I... died, didn't I?" Pyrrha asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Sarai shook her head gently. "No. You're not dead, yet. I took over your body just before that woman could finish you off. But... you don't have much time left before I fully reincarnate."
"I see... so you did use it," Pyrrha replied, understanding dawning in her eyes.
"Yes... I did. Once our souls become one, we'll be the same person. It... was the only chance I had to save you," Sarai explained, her voice filled with both regret and determination.
Despite everything, Pyrrha managed a weak smile. "Thank you, my friend."
"You're welcome, my sister. Now... just rest until we fuse. Let me take care of the rest from here," Sarai urged gently.
"Al... right. I'll do that. I'm feeling... a bit... sleepy," Pyrrha murmured as her consciousness drifted into slumber, entrusting her body to the ancient being who had become her closest companion.
Back atop the tower, the blinding light finally began to fade. Where Pyrrha once stood was a transformed warrior—Sarai Albanar in her full glory. Silver and golden elven armor adorned her body, with elements of Pyrrha's outfit still visible. A brilliant blue cape fluttered behind her in the wind, and a silver breastplate covered her chest, emblazoned with the insignia of the Albanar Tribe: two flaming swords crossing over a shield within a single ember of fire. Her traditional elven blade hung at her side, and a shield was mounted on her arm.
When she opened her eyes, they blazed with the color of a sunset—fiery orange that glared back at Cinder with ancient fury.
"You're..." Cinder began, taking an involuntary step backward.
Sarai nodded once, her posture regal and imposing. "The princess of the dark elven tribe of Albanar... Sarai Albanar."
Cinder felt the air around them crackle with energy. The power emanating from this being dwarfed what she had felt from Pyrrha before. It was ancient, primal, and overwhelming. She took another step back.
Sarai chuckled, the sound both melodious and threatening. "Come now, Fall Maiden, surely you didn't think humans were the only ones capable of using magic, did you?"
From the side of the tower where she lay, Ruby Rose watched the transformation with wide silver eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she recognized that something fundamental had changed in her friend.
"PYRRHA!!" Ruby cried out, her voice breaking with emotion.
Something snapped inside Ruby. She clenched her fists, curled her arms to her body, and then suddenly flung them outward. Her small form lifted slightly off the ground as brilliant white light began to pour from her eyes. The power of the silver-eyed warriors—awakened by the intense emotion of witnessing her friend's transformation.
The white light expanded outward, enveloping everything—the Wyvern circling the tower, Cinder, even Sarai herself. When it faded, Odyn stood at Ruby's side, his expression unreadable as he moved forward to stand beside his sister.
He looked at Sarai with a smile that held centuries of shared history. "Glad to have you back, little sis."
Then his face hardened as he turned toward Cinder, drawing his sword with practiced precision. The blade caught the moonlight, gleaming dangerously.
"We... can talk later, dear brother," Sarai said, her voice carrying the weight of their shared purpose. "Right now, she needs to be dealt with."
The siblings exchanged a glance, centuries of battlefield coordination passing between them in an instant. Then they charged as one toward the Fall Maiden.
Sarai brought forth her shield and unsheathed her elven blade in a single fluid motion. Cinder, still struggling to recover from Ruby's silver-eyed blast, summoned her obsidian bow. She quickly retracted it when she saw what appeared to be the spectral head of a lion materializing before Sarai.
"BEAST ASSAULT!" Sarai shouted as the ethereal lion crashed into Cinder, sending her reeling backward across the tower's surface.
Cinder scrambled to her feet, attempting to cast an arc of fireballs toward Sarai, only to be blindsided by Odyn's attack from her flank.
"Pay attention, witch!" Odyn snapped, his fist connecting with her jaw in a devastating punch.
As Cinder hopped away to rebalance herself, Sarai was already upon her, shield raised.
"TAKE THIS! GUARDIAN BATTERING RAM!" Sarai's shield slammed into Cinder's head with terrible force, sending the maiden flying across the tower once more.
Frustration and disbelief warred on Cinder's face. How was she—with the power of the Fall Maiden coursing through her veins—losing to these two? She slammed her palm against the floor, creating a sheet of ice to slow her attackers' advance.
Odyn tossed his sword high into the air before bringing his fist down on the rooftop with earth-shattering force. The ice shattered instantly, the shockwave blowing Cinder backward once again. He caught his falling sword with practiced ease.
Brother and sister rushed forward in perfect synchronization, their attacks a blur of motion that Cinder struggled to defend against. Each blow was precisely timed to exploit the opening left by the previous attack, leaving Cinder no chance to counter.
"AZURE DEMON STORM!" Odyn cried, swinging his blade in a complex pattern.
Two waves of blue energy surged forward, breaking through Cinder's hastily erected defenses. The third wave struck her directly in the stomach, leaving her vulnerable to Sarai's follow-up.
Sarai's sword transformed before their eyes, reshaping itself into a fearsome battle axe as her shield contracted back onto her gauntlet.
"INCINERATION BLADE!" she shouted, swinging the axe in a wide arc.
A torrent of flames erupted from the weapon's edge, washing over Cinder after shattering what remained of her aura. Before she could recover, another blade seemingly appeared from nowhere, stabbing into her leg. Sarai sheathed her primary weapon and launched herself forward, her boot connecting with Cinder's face in a powerful kick.
The siblings moved in perfect harmony, their attacks flowing into one another like a deadly dance. Cinder found herself being slashed from every angle, unable to track her attackers' movements as they struck again and again.
"Curse your own fate for angering those who weren't meant to be disturbed..." Odyn's voice echoed across the tower.
"Pray to whatever false gods you worship to spare you of the torment you are now to suffer..." Sarai continued, her blade flashing in the moonlight.
"For we carve wounds into your flesh that are never to heal..." Odyn declared as he struck again.
"And we crush our enemies to nothing...!" Sarai finished.
"DIVINE TWIN BEAST FURY!" the siblings cried in unison as they delivered their final devastating combination attack.
As they sheathed their blades with ceremonial precision, Cinder collapsed to the floor, her body covered in wounds, her aura completely depleted. Despite her injuries, pride and rage drove her to attempt to stand once more, to launch one final attack.
She never got the chance. A Blade of Light materialized in her stomach, courtesy of Odyn. The ethereal weapon faded as Odyn strode forward and seized her by the head, his grip threatening to crush her skull.
"Give your master this message for me," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You had better be prepared, because we haven't forgotten what you've done to us. The rage of an entire race is now headed towards you, Salem! We're coming for your head."
While Odyn delivered his warning, Sarai retrieved Pyrrha's fallen circlet from the ground. She then made her way to Ruby, who had collapsed after using her silver-eyed powers. Gently lifting the young girl in her arms, she rose into the air, knowing what her brother intended to do next.
Odyn released his grip on Cinder's head only to bring his fist down upon her stomach with terrifying force. The impact created a massive crater in the tower's roof, the structure already weakened by their battle. Cracks spread outward like a spiderweb from the point of impact as the entire tower began to collapse under the power of the dark elf's blow.
An enormous explosion of light engulfed everything as the tower gave way, the bright flash turning the entire scene white, obscuring the fate of those caught in its destruction.
And there, in the present, Cinder's hand unconsciously rose to touch the scars that now marred her face—permanent reminders of that night and the enemies she had made. Enemies who were coming for her master... and for her.
Echoes of Defeat
Cinder's fingers tightened around the railing as her eyes fixed on the news headlines scrolling across the massive display screen on the building opposite her. Each announcement landed like a physical blow, shattering what little composure she had managed to maintain.
BREAKING: VALE RECLAIMED by DARK ELVES.
The first headline burned into her vision, a stark reminder of her failure. Images flashed through her mind—the golden pillars of light, the overwhelming power of the siblings, the humiliation of defeat. Salem had been... displeased, to put it mildly, when Cinder had delivered Odyn's message. The punishment that followed still haunted her nightmares.
BREAKING: VALE NAMED AS CAPITAL OF NEWLY ESTABLISHED ALBANAR REPUBLIC.
Cinder's jaw clenched so tightly that pain shot through her temple. They hadn't just reclaimed territory—they'd established an entirely new nation from the ashes of Vale. Salem's carefully orchestrated chaos, the fear they had sown with the Grimm invasion, all of it undone in a matter of months. Reports had filtered in about the elves' remarkable ability to repel Grimm, their ancient magic proving more effective than any human defense system.
BREAKING: JACQUES SCHNEE IMPRISONED, SDC ASSETS SEIZED AND REDIRECTED TO REFORMATION OF FORMER VALE KINGDOM AND TREATMENT OF MINORITY RACES.
This final headline drew a bitter, humorless laugh from Cinder's throat. The Schnee Dust Company—one of the most powerful corporations on Remnant—dismantled in weeks by the newly empowered elves. Jacques Schnee, a man who had built his empire on exploitation and cruelty, now rotting in a cell somewhere. She should have felt satisfaction at his downfall, but all she could think about was how quickly the elves were dismantling Salem's carefully laid plans.
The wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of approaching rain. Cinder didn't move. The physical discomfort was nothing compared to the storm raging within her. The Fall Maiden's power—the power she had sacrificed everything to obtain—had proven insufficient against Sarai Albanar and her brother. The realization ate at her like acid.
"What will you do now, witch?"
She could still hear Sarai's mocking voice, spoken as the elf princess had stood victorious over her broken body. The memory burned hotter than any flame Cinder could conjure.
In her pocket, her scroll vibrated—another summons from Salem, no doubt. Another strategy meeting, another desperate attempt to counter the unexpected rise of the Albanar Republic. Cinder's fingers closed around the device but didn't remove it. Not yet. She needed a few more moments to collect herself, to ensure that when she faced her mistress, no trace of doubt would show on her face.
The headlines continued to cycle, each one a testament to how thoroughly their plans had unraveled. And somewhere in Vale—no, in the capital of the Albanar Republic—Sarai and Odyn were preparing their next move.
Cinder's remaining eye flared with orange flame as her semblance activated in response to her rage. She would find a way to defeat them. She had to. There was no alternative.
She turned away from the railing, from the news headlines that mocked her failure, and walked back into the shadows. Salem was waiting, and they had much to discuss.
The Unraveling
Just as Cinder was about to fade into the shadows, another headline flashed across the massive screen, stopping her cold. Her remaining eye widened in disbelief as she read the words scrolling in bold letters:
BREAKING: ATLAS TO ACKNOWLEDGE REPUBLIC OF ALBANAR AS SOVEREIGN NATION FOLLOWING CATASTROPHIC MILITARY DEFEAT IN WAR WITH DARK ELVES. FORMER ATLAS COUNCIL RECONSTRUCTED & NOBLES CONNECTED TO SDC ARRESTED TO BE PUT ON TRIAL IN COMING MONTHS.
A tremor ran through her body, not from cold but from something far worse—fear.
Atlas. The military superpower of Remnant. The kingdom with the most advanced technology, the strongest army, the most heavily fortified defenses in the world... defeated by the dark elves. Not just defeated—catastrophically so, according to the headline.
Cinder's mind raced through the implications. Atlas had always been Salem's most challenging obstacle, the kingdom most resistant to infiltration and manipulation. They had spent years placing pawns in positions of power there, cultivating relationships with corrupt officials, and exploiting the prejudices of the elite. And now, in what seemed like mere months, all that careful work had been undone.
The restructuring of the Atlas Council would mean all their agents had been exposed and removed. The arrests of nobles connected to the SDC suggested that the elves had evidence of their collaboration with Salem's faction—evidence that could potentially lead back to Cinder herself.
Her scroll vibrated again in her pocket, more insistently this time. Salem would already know about this development. She would be expecting explanations, contingency plans, solutions that Cinder didn't have.
For a moment, a treacherous thought crossed Cinder's mind: run. Disappear into the wilds of Anima and never look back. But she knew better than most that there was nowhere on Remnant where Salem couldn't find her.
With one last glance at the devastating headline, Cinder took a deep breath and withdrew her scroll. Her finger hovered over the accept button as she composed her face into a mask of cool confidence she didn't feel.
The elves had changed everything. The balance of power that had existed for centuries had been upended in a matter of months. And for the first time since she had pledged herself to Salem's service, Cinder Fall found herself wondering if they had chosen the wrong side in this ancient war.
But such doubts would have to remain buried deep. She pressed the button, and Salem's pale face appeared on the screen, red eyes gleaming with barely contained fury.
"Cinder," Salem's voice was deceptively calm. "I trust you've seen the news?"
"Yes, my lady," Cinder replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I have."
"Then you understand the gravity of our situation. Return to the fortress immediately. We have much to discuss."
The call ended abruptly, leaving Cinder staring at her reflection in the darkened screen. Rain began to fall around her, but she hardly noticed. The world was changing faster than anyone could have predicted, and she was caught in the storm.
With a final look at the Mistral skyline, Cinder turned and disappeared into the shadows, her mind filled with visions of golden light and fiery orange eyes that promised vengeance.
The Queen's Wrath
Deep within the twisted labyrinth of her fortress, where crimson skies cast an eternal twilight through crystalline windows, Salem stood motionless before a floating screen of dark magic. Her pale fingers traced the edge of the spectral display as she read the headline that now dominated the news across Remnant:
BREAKING: ATLAS TO ACKNOWLEDGE ALBANAR REPUBLIC AS NEW SUZERAIN STATE AS PER TERMS IN TREATY AFTER DEFEAT IN RECENT WAR.
A suzerain state. The term echoed in her ancient mind, carrying implications that sent cracks of fury through her usually impassive demeanor. Not merely sovereignty, not merely recognition—suzerainty meant the Albanar Republic now held political control over Atlas. The most powerful military force on Remnant had become a vassal to the dark elves.
Salem's crimson eyes narrowed to slits as the veins across her face darkened, pulsing with the depth of her rage. The room around her responded to her mood, pools of black ichor bubbling more violently from the floor as nearby Grimm cowered in the shadows.
This was not a random power play by an emerging faction. This was calculated. Targeted. Personal.
"They know," she whispered to the empty chamber, her voice carrying the weight of millennia.
The dark elves had not merely stumbled into conflict with her plans—they were deliberately dismantling them. The message was unmistakable: they remembered the ancient crimes she had committed against their kind, and they were methodically removing every piece of her carefully positioned chess board.
First Vale. Then the dismantling of the SDC. Now the subjugation of Atlas itself. Each move struck at a critical support structure of her grand design.
Salem waved her hand, banishing the screen with a gesture of disgust. She glided to the massive window overlooking the blighted landscape, her reflection ghostly against the crimson sky beyond.
"So, the children of Albanar have finally remembered their grudge," she mused, her tone deceptively calm despite the storm of fury within. "After all these centuries."
The elves had always been problematic—too long-lived to be easily manipulated, too attuned to the old magics to be fooled by her subterfuge. She had thought their power broken, their numbers too few to pose a threat. That miscalculation was now proving costly.
Behind her, the door to her chamber opened with a whisper. She did not turn as Watts entered, his footsteps measured and cautious.
"Your Grace," he began, his voice carefully controlled, "I've analyzed the reports from our remaining operatives in Atlas. The situation is... concerning."
"Concerning," Salem repeated, the word dripping with venom. "Is that the term you would use, Arthur? When the elves have systematically destroyed years of our work in a matter of months?"
Watts stiffened. "The speed of their advance was... unexpected. Their military capabilities far exceed our intelligence reports. And they appear to have intimate knowledge of our networks—"
"They remember," Salem cut him off, finally turning to face him. "They remember what I did to their ancestors during the first war. This is not merely politics or conquest. This is revenge, precisely executed."
Watts remained silent, knowing better than to speak when Salem was in such a mood.
"They wish to send me a message," she continued, her voice growing softer, more dangerous. "They want me to know they are coming for me personally. For justice. For blood."
Her pale hand clenched into a fist, dark energy crackling around her fingertips. "They shall have neither."
She moved to the center of the chamber, her dress flowing around her like living shadow. "Summon the others. All of them. Even our agents in the field are to return immediately."
Watts raised an eyebrow. "Even Tyrian? He's currently tracking the—"
"All of them," Salem repeated, her voice brooking no argument. "The time for subtlety has passed. If the Elves of Albanar wish to declare open war, then they shall have it. But they will find I am not so easily defeated as Atlas."
As Watts departed to carry out her orders, Salem returned her gaze to the crimson sky. The dark elves had made their intentions clear—they were coming for her. But they had forgotten something crucial in their millennia of exile and hiding: she was immortal. She had outlasted kingdoms, civilizations, and entire species.
She would outlast them too.
A cruel smile twisted her lips as she began to formulate her response. The elves had revealed themselves at last, stepping onto the board as players rather than pawns. It changed the game—but the game was far from over.
And Salem had been playing it longer than anyone else alive.
Divine Retribution
The shadows within Salem's fortress seemed to deepen as she awaited her inner circle. Her mind was calculating counterstrategies, weighing options for this new threat that had so suddenly materialized. The Albanar elves were powerful, yes, but she had faced powerful enemies before and—
Without warning, every screen and reflective surface in the chamber flickered and darkened. The temperature dropped precipitously, frost creeping across the crystalline windows. Salem's eyes narrowed as she sensed the intrusion—ancient magic, far older than any modern technology, reaching across continents to pierce her sanctuary.
The largest screen in the chamber illuminated with a brilliant golden light that forced even Salem to shield her eyes momentarily. When the radiance dimmed to tolerable levels, two figures appeared, their regal bearing unmistakable even through the magical projection.
On the left stood High King Berethon Albanar, his obsidian skin contrasting with elaborate golden armor adorned with ancient runes. A crown of twisted metal and glowing crystals rested upon his brow, pulsing with barely contained power. His eyes—the same fiery orange as Sarai's—burned with fury that transcended the limitations of the magical connection.
At his side was High Queen Hyuuan, her silver armor engraved with the history of their people. Her dark hair was adorned with crystals that seemed to contain galaxies within them, and the staff she gripped in one hand hummed with energy that distorted the very air around it.
"Salem," High King Berethon spoke, her name in his mouth sounding like both accusation and judgment. "Daughter of darkness. Betrayer of humanity. Scourge upon Remnant."
Salem's expression remained impassive, though the room around her responded to her inner turmoil—pools of darkness bubbling more vigorously, Grimm skittering nervously in the shadows.
"After all these centuries, the royal house of Albanar remembers me," Salem replied, forcing a coolness into her voice she did not entirely feel. "I am... flattered by your attention."
"Save your false pleasantries," High Queen Hyuuan interjected, her voice carrying the echo of thunder. "We see through you as we always have. Your schemes, your manipulations, your puppets dancing across Remnant—all transparent to those who know where to look."
Salem's composure cracked slightly, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her features. How much did they truly know?
As if reading her thoughts, Berethon continued, "We know of your inner circle—Watts, Hazel, Tyrian, Cinder. We know of your infiltration of the academies. We know of your search for the relics. We know of your war against Ozma."
"Then you know I cannot be defeated," Salem replied, a dangerous edge entering her voice. "Many have tried. All have failed. What makes you believe you will fare any better?"
The elven monarchs exchanged a glance charged with meaning before Hyuuan leaned forward, her eyes flashing with ancient power.
"Because we remember what you did to our people during the first war, Salem. The massacres at the Eldergrove. The corruption of our sacred places. The enslavement of our kin."
"The blood of our ancestors cries out for justice," Berethon added, his voice resonating with the collective memory of an entire race. "And we have not been idle in our exile. While you played your games with humans, we prepared."
The camera angle widened slightly, revealing behind them what appeared to be a council chamber filled with elven nobles and warriors, all watching with the same burning intensity.
"The dragons gifted us their fire," Hyuuan continued, raising her staff. The crystal at its peak flared with heat that seemed to reach through the connection, causing the temperature in Salem's chamber to spike momentarily. "The old gods, their wisdom."
"And both," Berethon finished, "gifted us the means to make you suffer for your crimes."
Salem's face remained stone, but inwardly, an unaccustomed sensation crept through her immortal being—uncertainty. The elves had always been dangerous, their connection to the old magics a threat to her plans. But she had believed them broken, scattered, their knowledge lost.
She had been wrong.
"Consider the fall of Atlas merely the opening move," Hyuuan stated, her voice cold as winter. "Your strongholds will fall. Your servants will abandon you or perish. Your Grimm will be purged. And then, when you stand alone as you did at the beginning, we will come for you personally."
"This is not a negotiation," Berethon added, his tone final. "This is not a warning. This is simply the truth of what is to come. The wrath of the entire elven race, Salem. Remember it in the dark days ahead."
Before Salem could respond, the connection began to fade. As their images dimmed, Hyuuan spoke one final message:
"You made a grave error, daughter of darkness. You made the dark elves angry. And unlike humans, we do not forget. Unlike humans, we do not forgive. And unlike you—" her eyes flashed with terrifying certainty, "—we finish what we start."
The screen went dark, leaving Salem alone in her chamber. For the first time in centuries, a chill of genuine concern ran through her immortal form. She had faced wizards, warriors, and Maidens without fear. She had battled Ozma across lifetimes. She had endured the judgment of gods.
But the united wrath of the elves—with dragon fire in their blood and divine wisdom guiding their hands—that was an enemy she had not prepared for.
The doors to her chamber opened as her inner circle began to arrive for the meeting. They found their queen staring at the darkened screen, her pale features set in an expression none of them had seen before.
Salem had made many enemies in her immortal existence. But perhaps none as dangerous as the dark elves of Albanar, whose memories were as long as her own, and whose thirst for justice had only grown stronger with the passage of time.
Journey to Mistral: Woven Destinies
As the planning session continued into the night, the safehouse gradually quieted, with pairs and small groups breaking off for more focused discussions. Ruby found herself observing the intricate web of relationships that had formed among their allies—connections that transcended the boundaries between worlds in ways that seemed to directly challenge the very purpose of the Severance Stone.
In one corner, Mercury Black leaned against the wall, his usual sardonic expression softened as he watched Seraphina discussing the counter-ritual components with her mother. Ruby still found his presence among them surprising, though Yang had briefed her on his unexpected role during the Fall of Beacon.
Seeing her interest, Qrow moved to stand beside his niece. "Still don't trust him?" he asked quietly.
Ruby shrugged. "It's not that. I'm just trying to understand how... all of this happened while I was gone." She gestured vaguely at Mercury. "How did he and Seraphina even meet?"
Qrow's crimson eyes followed her gaze, a grudging respect visible in them. "According to Khanna—Seraphina—they encountered each other when she crossed over to investigate the Maiden powers being transferred at Beacon. She sensed the shift in magical balance from the elven realm and came through as an observer."
"And Mercury?"
"Was having second thoughts about his allegiance to Cinder," Qrow explained. "Something about Seraphina's presence—her connection to both worlds—resonated with parts of himself he thought long buried. When the moment came to choose sides during Cinder's attack, he chose to protect rather than destroy."
As if sensing their attention, Mercury glanced over. The former assassin nodded almost imperceptibly to Qrow before returning his attention to Seraphina, who was now approaching him with a small leather-bound book.
"It's more than just an alliance of convenience," Ruby observed, noting the gentle way Mercury's fingers brushed Seraphina's as he accepted the book.
"It's... complicated," Qrow admitted. "But then, who among us can claim simplicity these days?"
His gaze shifted to Lailah, who was deep in conversation with Raven at the far side of the room. Though the elven woman's face remained composed, Ruby could see tension in her posture—the reunion with her husband's twin clearly stirring complex emotions.
"How are things between you and Lailah?" Ruby asked softly. "After all this time?"
Qrow's expression softened in a way Ruby had rarely witnessed. "Like finding a part of myself I'd forgotten was missing," he answered, uncharacteristically poetic. "Twenty years apart, and yet when she looks at me..." He shook his head, seemingly at a loss for words.
"You fit together," Ruby supplied, understanding.
Qrow nodded. "And now we have Khanna—Seraphina—back in our lives too. A family I never thought I'd have the chance to know." A shadow crossed his features. "If we survive what's coming."
"We will," Ruby assured him with a confidence that surprised even herself. "We have too much to lose not to."
Across the room, Yang and Roy sat together on a window seat, their conversation animated as Roy sketched something in a small notebook balanced on his knee. Lightning occasionally sparked between his fingers when he gestured, the control of his elemental affinity now second nature after years of training.
Ruby made her way toward them, catching snippets of their discussion as she approached.
"—could channel it through your prosthetic," Roy was saying, his amber eyes bright with excitement. "The dragon blood in your lineage makes you naturally resistant to elemental damage. With the right modifications—"
"We could create a focusing conduit for both your lightning and my fire," Yang finished, her mechanical fingers flexing thoughtfully. "But wouldn't the opposing elements cancel each other out?"
Roy shook his head. "Not with the right catalyst. In the elven realm, we use drachium alloy to balance opposing elemental forces."
"Dragon metal," Yang translated, a smile playing at her lips. "Seems fitting."
"I've heard pieces of this, but never the full story," Ruby interrupted, settling beside her sister. "When exactly did you discover you had dragon blood, Yang?"
Roy and Yang exchanged glances, a private communication passing between them.
"It was during her recovery," Roy explained. "The standard prosthetic wasn't integrating properly—her body kept rejecting the neural connections. I sensed something unusual in her biological responses and performed an elven diagnostic ritual."
Yang picked up the thread. "Turns out our mother—" she glanced toward Raven, who was still deep in conversation with Lailah, "—has more secrets than we realized. The Branwen tribe apparently has dragon ancestry from generations back. Most members show no signs of it, but trauma can sometimes trigger dormant heritage."
"Like my elven awakening," Ruby noted, understanding dawning.
"Exactly," Roy confirmed. "Yang's injury and the emotional trauma that accompanied it activated her latent dragon blood. That's why her eyes change color when she's angry—not just her semblance activating, but her heritage responding to threat."
Yang flexed her mechanical arm, which Ruby now noticed had been modified with subtle runes etched along its yellow surface. "Once we knew what we were working with, Roy was able to design a prosthetic that actually worked with my biology instead of against it. And he's been helping me understand the... other changes since then."
"Like your affinity for fire," Ruby guessed, remembering how Yang's semblance had grown more controlled yet more powerful in recent months.
"And her remarkably quick healing," Roy added with a hint of pride. "The dragon blood gives her advantages beyond just combat applications."
Yang bumped her shoulder against his affectionately. "Says the man who can literally call lightning with a thought."
Roy's expression turned more serious. "It's my greatest strength and my greatest burden. Among my siblings, I'm the only one who inherited our father's elemental affinity in full measure. Odyn and Sarai have traces of it, but not enough to manifest physically."
"Is that why you became a healer?" Ruby asked. "To balance the destructive potential?"
Roy nodded, something like gratitude in his eyes at her understanding. "Lightning can destroy, but it can also jumpstart a failing heart, stimulate healing pathways, energize depleted systems. I chose to focus on those aspects of my gift."
"Until you needed to fight," Yang added softly, her hand finding his. "Until Patch was threatened."
A protective fierceness flashed across Roy's features, so brief Ruby might have missed it if she hadn't been watching closely. "Some things are worth fighting for," he said simply, his eyes never leaving Yang's.
On the balcony outside, illuminated by the shattered moonlight, Sarai and Jaune moved through a series of practiced forms—training that had become ritual between them. Ruby paused by the glass doors, watching as Sarai corrected Jaune's stance with gentle but firm guidance.
There was something both familiar and foreign in Sarai's movements—the precision and grace that had been Pyrrha's hallmarks, yet with a different quality that spoke of centuries of elven martial traditions. Knowing what she now did about Sarai's true nature—that she was Pyrrha reincarnated through elven intervention—Ruby found herself searching for glimpses of her friend in this new entity.
As if sensing her presence, Sarai paused mid-demonstration, her emerald eyes finding Ruby through the glass. With a few murmured words to Jaune, she crossed to the doors and stepped inside.
"You have questions," she stated simply, her voice carrying echoes of Pyrrha's warmth beneath the more formal elven cadence.
Ruby nodded, suddenly unsure how to address this person who both was and wasn't her friend. "I'm still trying to understand... how much of you is Sarai and how much is Pyrrha?"
Something like pain flickered across Sarai's features. "It's not a division so much as an integration," she explained carefully. "When Pyrrha was struck down by Cinder, her soul was caught between death and life—a moment of suspension where intervention became possible. I was sent across the veil, offering my essence as an anchor to prevent her from slipping away entirely."
"You sacrificed yourself for her?" Ruby asked, awed.
Sarai's smile held bittersweet knowledge. "It was no sacrifice, but fulfillment of purpose. I was created for this—an elven guardian specifically formed to be compatible with Pyrrha's essence, her destiny, her unfinished work."
"So the person you are now..."
"Is both of us, and something new entirely," Sarai explained. "I have Pyrrha's memories, her feelings, her core self—but filtered through elven understanding and enhanced with knowledge she never had access to in her human life." She glanced back toward Jaune, who was continuing his practice forms with diligent concentration. "Some connections remain unchanged, despite the transformation."
Understanding dawned in Ruby's eyes. "You still love him."
"As Pyrrha did, yes," Sarai acknowledged. "Though with an added dimension of responsibility. He carries tremendous potential, Ruby—far beyond what he or others recognize. My role now is not just as his partner but as his guide to that potential."
"Like a mentor," Ruby suggested.
Sarai shook her head slightly. "More intimate than that. In the elven tradition, we call it shaiel—soul-bearer. I carry knowledge he needs; he carries purpose I was created to serve. Together, we form something greater than either could be alone."
Ruby watched as Jaune executed a complex series of movements that would have been far beyond his abilities when she'd last trained with him. "He's improved dramatically."
"He had the foundation all along," Sarai noted with evident pride. "Pyrrha saw it from the beginning. Now, with elven training techniques—and the awakening of certain dormant abilities in his own lineage—he's finally accessing his true potential."
"Dormant abilities?" Ruby questioned. "You mean Jaune has mixed heritage too?"
"Not elven," Sarai clarified. "But ancient warrior bloodlines that have been diluted through generations of peace. The Arc family carries traces of power that few remember how to access in this age." She smiled faintly. "Fortunately, elven memory reaches back to those times."
Ruby processed this information, fitting it into the expanding picture of their group's interconnected destinies. "So many of us with hidden heritage, awakening just as these threats emerge... it can't be coincidence."
"The prophecy speaks of convergence," Sarai reminded her. "Not just of worlds, but of bloodlines and destinies long separated. We are all pieces of a pattern set in motion centuries ago, Ruby. Even those who appear to have entered our circle by chance."
The sound of good-natured argument drew Ruby's attention to another corner of the safehouse, where Baron—a tall, imposing figure with obsidian skin and silver-white hair—was engaged in animated conversation with a fox faunus woman whose russet hair was adorned with intricate braids and beads.
"That's Baron and Flare," Sarai explained, following Ruby's gaze. "They arrived yesterday after their wedding in Flare's home village."
"Wedding?" Ruby repeated, surprised. "In the middle of all this chaos?"
Sarai's lips curved in a knowing smile. "Sometimes, especially in the middle of chaos, we must claim what joy we can. Their union was planned for the summer solstice, but with the threat of the Severance Stone looming..."
"They moved it up," Ruby concluded, understanding.
"A wise decision," Sarai noted. "Particularly given Baron's unique position. As Hailfire's brother and a dark elf of considerable influence, his marriage to a faunus of Flare's lineage creates political alliances that strengthen our position against Cinder's faction."
Ruby watched as Flare laughed at something Baron said, her fox ears flicking expressively. Despite the serious nature of their gathering, there was an undeniable joy radiating from the newly wedded couple.
"And Hailfire?" Ruby asked, noticing the striking dark elf woman standing slightly apart from the others, her silver-white hair contrasting dramatically with her midnight skin. "Where does she fit in all this?"
"Hailfire is... complicated," Sarai admitted. "As Vanguard of the dark elven houses, her primary allegiance is to her people's security. She's here because the Severance Stone threatens that security, not necessarily because she shares our broader goals of reconciliation between worlds."
As if sensing their discussion, Hailfire turned, fixing Ruby with an appraising look from across the room. Unlike her brother Baron, whose expression generally carried warmth despite his imposing presence, Hailfire's features remained coolly composed, revealing nothing of her thoughts.
"Is she trustworthy?" Ruby asked quietly.
"Within the parameters of her own code, absolutely," Sarai affirmed. "Beyond that..." She shrugged elegantly. "Dark elves value pragmatism above sentiment. Hailfire will stand with us precisely as long as doing so serves her people's interests."
"Which, for now, aligns with stopping Cinder," Ruby concluded.
"Precisely."
As midnight approached, the group gathered once more around the central table, where Lailah had arranged the crystalline shards Raven had provided. The fragments glowed with subtle crimson light, casting eerie shadows across the assembled faces.
"The counter-ritual will require perfect synchronization between our three anchor pairs," Lailah explained, her melodic voice carrying easily through the quiet room. "Each representing a different aspect of the connection between worlds."
She gestured to Seraphina and Mercury. "The guardian and the converted—one born of both worlds, one who chose to cross the boundary between enemy and ally."
Next, she indicated Yang and Roy. "The awakened and the healer—blood heritage activated through trauma, guided and balanced by elven wisdom."
Finally, her gaze settled on Ruby and Odyn. "The bridge and the guide—human transformed by elven heritage, supported by one who walks the paths between worlds."
"And the rest of us?" Jaune asked, his tactical mind focused on everyone's role.
"Form the outer circle," Qrow answered, stepping forward to stand beside Lailah. "Providing protection and channeling additional power to the anchors."
"The ritual must begin at the exact moment Cinder attempts to activate the Stone," Lailah continued. "Which means we need precise intelligence on her movements."
"I can provide that," Mercury stated, drawing all eyes to him. His usual sardonic expression was replaced by grim determination. "I still have contacts within her network. They don't know I've switched sides—think I've been undercover on her orders all this time."
Seraphina placed a protective hand on his arm. "It's too dangerous. If she suspects—"
"She won't," Mercury assured her, though Ruby noted the tension in his jaw. "I know how to play the game. I did it for years before..." His eyes met Seraphina's. "Before I found something worth changing for."
The naked emotion in his voice silenced potential objections. Even Qrow, who Ruby knew harbored lingering suspicions about Mercury's loyalty, gave a grudging nod of acceptance.
"We'll need to divide our forces," Sarai observed, moving to the map of Haven Academy. "A team to intercept Cinder, a team to protect the ritual participants, and a team to deal with Lionheart and whatever reinforcements Salem may have sent."
"I'll take Lionheart," Qrow stated flatly, his expression hardening. "There are words that need to be said between us."
"Not alone," Lailah countered, her tone brooking no argument. "I go where you go, Qrow Branwen. We've spent enough years apart."
The fierce protectiveness in her voice brought a fleeting smile to Qrow's face despite the gravity of the situation. "Like old times, then."
"I'll lead the team against Cinder," Yang volunteered, her eyes briefly flashing crimson—a manifestation of her dragon blood rather than just her semblance, Ruby now realized.
"And I'll stand with you," Roy added immediately, lightning briefly crackling between his fingers.
"As will I," Baron declared, stepping forward with Flare at his side. "My wedding gift to the worlds will be ensuring Cinder doesn't succeed." He glanced at his new wife with obvious adoration. "Our first battle as a married couple."
Flare's fox ears twitched with determination, her hand moving to the elaborate dust-infused dagger at her hip. "The Kitsune clan stands with the alliance between worlds. My people have suffered enough from division and prejudice."
"The ritual team will need the strongest magical protection," Hailfire spoke up, her voice cool and measured. "As Vanguard, I am trained in elven warding techniques beyond what most of you possess. I will oversee the defensive perimeter."
Ruby noted the surprise on several faces at this voluntary contribution from the usually aloof dark elf. Even Baron seemed taken aback by his sister's ready participation.
"Then it's settled," Ruby concluded, looking around at the assembled group—human, faunus, elven, and those who existed at the intersections between. "Three teams, one purpose: stop the Severance Stone from activating and prevent Cinder from forcing a permanent division between our worlds."
Odyn stepped to her side, his steady presence grounding her. "Whatever happens," he said quietly, "remember that your transformation isn't just about what you've become, Ruby. It's about what you represent—the possibility of harmony between worlds that have been separate for too long."
As the group dispersed to prepare for the challenges ahead, Ruby found herself returning to the balcony, seeking a moment of quiet beneath the shattered moon. The city of Mistral spread below her in tiers of lantern light, its people unaware of the forces gathering in their midst—forces that would determine whether the boundaries between worlds would harden into permanent division or begin the long, delicate process of healing.
She touched her ear, tracing the elven point that now felt as natural as breathing. In the reflection of the window glass, she studied her silver eyes with their amber flecks—human and elven heritage in perfect balance. Whatever came next, she was ready to face it not as someone caught between worlds, but as someone who embodied their potential unity.
Behind her, the safehouse hummed with purposeful activity—preparations being made, weapons checked, strategies refined. But underlying it all was something more profound: the connections between them, bonds of love and loyalty that transcended the boundaries the Severance Stone was designed to enforce. In these relationships—romantic, familial, and those forged in battle—Ruby sensed the true power they would bring against Cinder's plans.
Not just strength of arms or magic, but strength of heart—the power of worlds and bloodlines reaching toward each other across ancient divisions, seeking reunion, seeking wholeness.
As the night deepened toward dawn, Ruby turned back to join her companions, feeling the weight of destiny balanced by the certainty of purpose. Three days until the celestial alignment. Three days to prepare for a confrontation that would determine the future relationship between worlds long separated.
Three days until they would stand together against the forces of division, offering instead the promise of convergence—of worlds, of bloodlines, of destinies intertwined across the boundaries of what had been and what might yet be.
To becontinued in Chapter 39: Mistral part III; Final Preparations