Chapter Text
Summer was not in a good mood.
First, Ozpin had woken her up at an ungodly hour for a ‘very important’ mission despite her asking for this month off. He had to practically beg her to hear him out, and it was just Summer’s luck that the one time she wanted to pass a mission onto Qrow, the old bird was gallivanting around in the wastelands of Vacuo.
Secondly, she had been asked to bring Yang and Ruby along with her. Summer didn't know for certain if Ozpin had some children in one of his lives, but surely the old man knew that asking to keep two children entertained in a Bullhead for over twelve hours was like asking Summer to snap her fingers and kill Salem from Beacon itself.
Thirdly, there were the VIPs. Both of them. Weiss Schnee and Blake Belladonna, heirs to families that hated each other, were joining Summer and her children in flying towards a safe destination as their parents sat down at the meeting table to discuss faunus rights, surprisingly at the behest of the Schnee family.
However, neither family trusted the other, so a compromise was made.
Their children would be taken to a haven outside the kingdoms and protected by a neutral Huntsman. A great plan that could lead to massive strides in positive relations between humans and faunus with only one, slight, tinsy-tiny issue.
The location.
Both Atlas and Menagerie were off the table to host the children for obvious reasons, Mistral and Argus were deemed too in favor of the SDC, and with the recent uptick of White Fang rallies in Vacuo and Vale, they too were disallowed.
Instead, both Ghira Belladonna and Jacques Schnee had agreed upon an island just off the coast of Vale, one that some people called the Dragon Isle, thanks to its resemblance to the beasts of myth - or the Grimmlands for its concentration of the soulless beasts.
It was mostly uninhabited, which meant no danger of either side influencing the children's safety, whilst the south of the island was close to the sparse civilization on the Vytal islands in case of emergency.
Of course, the north of the island was Ozpin’s best guess on where Salem - Queen of the Grimm and bane of existence - lived in between her time of trying to kill all life.
But it wasn't like Summer could tell them that.
Or rather, Ozpin wouldn't let Summer tell them that. Nope, she had to nod and smile as Ghira Belladonna explained that the island would be the perfect place to hide from both rogue Atlas veterans and racist SDC members who still held a grudge after the faunus war.
Summer groaned in the cockpit as she remembered Ghira’s smile as he told her all about the pros of the island and how it would be basically a holiday for her and the children on the sandy beaches.
She had wanted to grab the man by the neck and tell him it would be safer to hand his child into a Schnee mine than going anywhere near that damned island.
Jacques wasn't much better. From James’s reports, he was seemingly hellbent on sending his child to the Grimmlands. He wouldn't even entertain the idea of having the children sent to Beacon despite Ironwood’s best efforts, to the point that James was worried that Jacques had something planned.
But, despite the frustration, Summer could admit she understood where both fathers were coming from.
In their minds, the information could leak any second, and with how much hate both families had gathered in recent years, only isolation could guarantee the children's safety. They just simply didn't know they weren't isolated. And, as Ozpin had explained multiple times, the Grimmlands were a large, vast island with Salem’s direct influence only surrounding the northwestern half of the archipelago. By the time Salem would find out about them, they would be long gone.
Hopefully.
It had been a few hours now since the Bullhead had picked up Weiss from Argus, and the island had been getting closer every second. Each increasingly closer detail added to Summer’s headache as she scrunched her eyes shut and silently repeated to herself that the mission was sure to go well.
A stab of static a few minutes later, accompanied by a clipped, “Half an hour out, ma’am,” by the faunus pilot beside her, led her to open her eyes with a deep sigh.
Summer hadnt also just been asked (begged) by Ozpin to go because she was one of his best agents who knew the actual risks this mission had, but also because Ruby and Yang were the same age as the two VIPs.
Ozpin was always one to plan for the future, and whilst he didn't outright say it, Summer knew he wanted to gain both the Belladonnas and the Schnee’s favour in the future.
Of course, acting as the mediator between the two was one way to gain it, but forging bonds between their families and Summer’s was another way of ensuring he would have powerful connections in the next generation.
It should’ve bothered her more, but it felt weirdly comforting that Ozpin was already thinking about the next generation - even when STQ were still in their prime, which was the only reason Summer had accepted to bring her children along in the first place.
The main issue was that the two girls were… different from Ruby and Yang.
Blake was the better of the two; she had spent most of the flight so far curled up in a corner and mostly ignoring the other three, but Weiss… Weiss was a whole different story. She had taken one look at Ruby and Yang as she entered the ship and immediately turned her nose up at them.
Summer thought it was beneath her to immediately hate a child. She was wrong.
“Ma’am, you should go secure the VIPs,” the pilot murmured, his eyes flicking towards her for a second. He had barely uttered a word when she clambered into the cockpit a few hours ago, and other than a few glances, had barely looked at her for the last few hours.
Summer put it up to nerves. General Sol swore he was one of the best Atlas pilots, but flying into the Grimmlands without Aura would rattle even the most battle-hardened.
With a sigh, Summer pushed herself up with a tired stretch as she paused for a moment at the door. She could only hear the thrumming of the engines for a second before a distinct high-pitched squeal cut through.
With another long sigh and a silent curse towards Ozpin for forcing her to babysit, she pushed open the door.
“-ite Fang is dangerous!”
“Of course you would say that!”
“Father says it all the time! And he’s always right!”
“Well, my dad says yours is a bad man!”
Weiss Schnee, distinguished heiress to the richest company on Remnant, stomped her foot on the ground in a tantrum as her face grew a sickly red.
“You take that back!”
Blake Belladonna, a child taught to preach kindness and equality, stuck out her tongue as she put her hands on her hips in victory.
“No.”
“You, you, you ingrate!” Weiss stuttered out, mangling the last word.
“Girls!”
The two heiresses both quickly paled as Summer’s words bounced off the metal cabin. Ruby slowly hid behind her sister as Yang lowered her fists from where she had been egging the other two on.
Summer stared at the four girls with a look that only a mother with a headache on too little sleep could achieve, until one by one they sank into their seats.
“Now then,” Summer continued as they all finally sat down, “the pilot has just informed me that we are close to where we will be staying for the next week. I want you all to try and get along like your parents are doing, and I don't want to hear another argument between the two of you. Do I make myself clear?”
“Of course, Mrs Rose. I apologize for my behaviour,” Weiss said with an almost practiced ease, slightly bowing her head as she spoke.
“She started it,” Blake grumbled just quietly enough for only Summer to hear.
“Excuse me, Blake? I didn't quite hear that.”
“I'm sorry, Mrs Rose.” Blake quickly corrected herself as she looked up to meet Summer’s piercing eyes.
“Thank you, both of you,” Summer said after a second of silence before taking her own seat next to Ruby.
A moment later, her baby daughter tugged on her sleeve and began to whisper in her ear. “Mum, why were they arguing like that?” She asked with the innocence of a child.
“Are they flirting?” Yang asked as she quickly pushed her head past Ruby’s.
“Yang! Who taught you that word?” Summer already knew before she had finished asking.
“Uncle Qrow.”
Yep. Honestly, the man had grown up in a bandit camp and seen his sister fall in love with a man she bickered with for two years nonstop. It did make his warped sense of flirting make sense, as well as his failure to land his own girlfriend. But by the God’s was he going to get it when they were back in Patch.
Ruby tugged her sleeve and reminded her she hadn't answered her question. “They don't hate each other, Ruby. They just come from very different backgrounds, and it creates… friction. I’m sure that they could become friends if they wanted to.”
“I doubt that,” Yang muttered, looking at the two girls who had sat as far away as they could from each other, both of them stealing murderous glances at the other over the tops of their respective books they had pulled from their bags.
Summer let out another silent curse towards Ozpin. One month off. That's all she wanted.
“Look, why don't we practice our Aura handling until we land?” Summer proposed to her children. Yang rolled her eyes as she slowly leaned back towards her chair, whilst Ruby's eyes lit up with glee.
“Oh, can we? I’ve been practicing with Dad and Uncle Qrow now for the last few days! They said I’m already better than they were at my age.”
Summer ruffled her daughter's hair as Ruby preened at her mother's compliments. It was going to suck when Ruby learnt that neither Tai nor Qrow had Aura unlocked at five, and neither did the vast majority of Huntsmen. But when both parents knew about an ancient evil and were part of a secret cabal to try and kill said evil, you end up doing some pretty protective stuff.
“I don't even think I need to practice," Yang said with a cocky smile. “Dad said I’m already better than most of his students at Signal. And they're so old, like thirteen even.”
Summer felt her bones turn to dust with age.
“Come on, Yang. Practice with me,” Ruby turned on her sister with large, pleading eyes. “Please?”
Ruby’s pleading worked immediately, as the doting older sister scruffed Ruby on the head while she promised to teach her personally about being a Huntress.
“Mrs Rose. If it wouldn't be too much, may I also join in with your training?” Weiss asked just as Summer was about to begin.
“Of course, though I'm surprised you have your Aura unlocked.”
A proud smile flashed across Weiss’ face for a second, “Well, as one of the heiresses to the SDC, it was pivotal for me to learn how to protect myself. Therefore, I was permitted by the Headmaster of Atlas to unlock my Aura.”
Ironwood was hard at work then.
“I also have it unlocked.” Blake quickly added, not wanting to be one-upped by the Schnee. “Mum said it would be more dangerous if I didn't.”
“Would you also like to join in then?”
“No thank yo-” Blake began before Weiss let out a sly laugh in victory at being taught by a real Huntress. “Actually, yes please, Mrs Rose.”
Weiss let out a slight huff as she looked away from the faunus princess. Summer quickly slapped her hands together before it could turn it another argument, “Right, I want you all to take a deep breath and close your eyes. Allow yourself to relax and focus inward.”
Summer continued for a few more minutes, trying her best to remember what Mrs Peach taught them a few years ago when she wasn't messing around with Raven during class. Within a few minutes, a small yellow glow began to emanate from Yang.
“So cool,” Ruby whispered under her breath, before quickly snapping her eyes shut when Summer lightly prodded her shoulder. A few more seconds passed before both Weiss and Blake began to shed Aura as well, the glow matching the colour of the clothes they wore as grins spread across both of their faces.
“Feel the fire inside of you and allow it to grow. Your Aura is your soul, your essence, your being. Allow it to fill your bod-”
The cockpit door slid open with a metallic hiss. Summer turned to face the door, her honed instincts screaming at her as time slowed down to a crawl.
The faunus pilot wearing his SDC uniform stood at the door with a manic smile stretched eerily across his face, a feverish look in his eye as he stared straight at both Blake and Weiss.
In his left hand, he held a device that flashed rapidly, and his right fist was tightly clenched around what looked like a thick gearstick with a red tip that peered just over his white knuckles.
It was a detonator.
Summer became a flash as years of Huntress experience kicked in. She made it within an inch of the man before his thumb pushed down with a sickening click. One of the girls screamed. The man spoke with an ecstatic glee just as he pushed it. “For the -”
Heat rushed over Summer as she pushed every drop of Aura into her Semblance.
~ ~ ~
Salem was, for once, in a good mood.
Tyrian had just reported back a few hours ago with news that the new Haven Headmaster was not as courageous as he portrayed himself, allowing himself to be turned into a double agent after only a few threats against his life, his family's life, and his eternal soul. A true coward indeed.
Cinder, one of Salem’s newest agents, had quickly risen to meet Salem’s expectations. She was already showing promise of holding the four Maidens' powers, her childhood giving the girl an unquenchable need for power that only Salem could promise her.
Of course, Salem wasn't foolish enough to even begin to believe the girl would be truly loyal, only fanatics like Tyrian would be, but she would be a very useful piece for the next steps in her plans to gather four Relics from Ozma.
Watts had recently updated the castle to house a small, private CCT, allowing for much quicker updates both within the Grimmlands and to even the more remote parts of Remnant.
Salem still didn't quite understand the more sophisticated parts of the upgrade; technology was never her forte, but after Watts gave her a quick crash course on what he called a ‘scroll’, she was now able to use one to message her underlings.
And Hazel had been… well, he had been his usual quiet self. Salem would admit that she did feel a sort of kinship with the man, with their shared utter hatred of Ozma (or Ozpin as he went by these days).
She found his calm attitude a nice addition within her group of agents, as while Tyrian's devotion, Watts’ intelligence, and Cinders' thirst for power were all nice qualities for a team hellbent on the world's destruction to have, it was all rather loud and annoying.
It was all this good news that had taken Salem to go for a little stroll on the island she called home for the last eternity. It was rare for her to leave the palace; the solitude of Evernight Castle was often more than enough for her, as she had long ago mastered the art of passing time whilst twiddling her thumbs, waiting for the perfect time to strike against Ozma and Remnant as a whole.
Going outside of the Castle could lead to many issues, many of which would end up delaying her plans by a few years and sometimes centuries, leading to more time just sitting around.
Immortality was often rather boring, she had found.
However, whilst she wasn't one to tempt fate after being cursed, the last few years had gone well enough that Salem found herself yearning to leave the inner Grimmlands to see some trees and fields, perhaps even to glimpse the ocean.
And so Salem found herself in an unfamiliar position: outside, in a small southern forest. Her fingertips brushed over long blades of grass as a flock of Nevermore screeched overhead, scouting ahead of the slow, lumbering army of Ursa and Beowulfs she had created
She closed her eyes. The cool sea breeze whispered through the trees as the setting sun cast the glade in gold and crimson. The flowers and vines seemed to glow with a vibrance that reminded her of a time when life had an end.
A Nevermore screech destroyed her fantasy.
Fantastic. Just as she was really starting to enjoy herself, some foolish explorer had decided that now was the perfect time to enter the Grimmlands. Salem looked upwards past a dense canopy to just about spot a Bullhead a little way off in the distance. Just as she feared, the ship seemed to be lowering itself to land as it slowly began its descent.
She was under no impression that she couldn't kill the occupants inside to extend her time away from Evernight, but often these explorer types had connections to someone in Ozma's inner circle. Potentially ruining what looked to be a perfect start for her next big plot for a few extra hours wasn't worth it; she would instead just have to wait for the idiots to get killed by wild Grimm.
Just as Salem turned away to return to Evernight, an explosion brought her attention back to the ship. Well, the exploding wreckage of the ship.
It had split apart in a gigantic fireball, with both halves falling out of the sky like a stone through water. The cockpit had been blown away from the island and would likely end up in the sea, whilst the backend had been rocketed towards the island instead. Salem held up a thumb and finger to gauge where it was most likely to crash and figured it would most likely land only a mile or so away from where she was standing.
Caution warred with curiosity. Then boredom won
With a waved hand, the flock of Nevermore flew towards the falling cargo hold with the army of Ursa and Beowulf’s following. Only an Alpha Ursa stayed, slowly walking up to its Queen before lowering its body, allowing Salem to mount its bony back.
The Ursa was fast, as to be expected by a Grimm moulded by Salem herself, and she soon found herself leading the pack across the forest as she raced towards her destination. As they drew closer, Salem heard the echoing bang of the ship crashing, kicking dirt and dust up in a small mushroom cloud only a few minutes away, accompanied by a much smaller fireball a moment later.
As Salem exited the forest, she was greeted by the sight of a burning wreckage and several bodies strewn around the epicenter, all of them injured in one way or another.
The flock of Nevermore quickly squawked an all clear to their Queen as she climbed off her mount and began walking towards the closest body.
Not an explorer. Not a soldier. A child.
She knelt beside the girl. Pale skin. White clothes. Blood everywhere. Yet her face looked calm, as though she merely slept.
As Salem began to move away, something gripped her from inside and refused to let go. Her hand moved unconsciously towards the girl's head, at first in a balled palm, before opening and placing itself gently on the girl's cheek.
Memories began to swarm her. Uncomfortable, happy, loving memories of a life she once had with a man she adored. A man she had spited the God’s for.
Memories of an unending life filled with hope and desire to see her kingdom grow into a powerful nation to shepherd humans and faunus alike into a new age, but not for Salem's nor the man she loved's sake, but instead for her children.
A sickening realization hit her. This child looked nearly identical to her eldest.
Salem let go of the child with a gasp, recoiling in equal measures of disgust and despair. That life was buried deep inside of her mind for a reason; she would not be undone by a lookalike. Not when she was so close to her ultimate goal of death.
Shaking, the Queen stood up and began looking towards the other bodies. Two more children lay less than a hundred feet away, barely a foot apart. One had jet black hair stained with crimson as a torrent of blood flowed from an open wound, covering her silky hair in fresh blood.
She was a faunus, presumably a cat, judging by the ears on top of her head. Or rather the single ear, as the left one had been torn off, leaving only a fleshy stump that pumped a slow stream of blood down her face.
The second child had long, golden hair and appeared nearly unharmed, until Salem saw how her right arm was bent. The bone from her shoulder down had been twisted and folded like origami, bending and folding until her hand somehow rested underneath her shoulder as the arm was curled like a poised snake.
Again, the girls had an uncanny resemblance to her children, her second youngest and eldest respectively, with the first’s dark hair and tanned skin and the second's fairer tone and bright hair.
For a fleeting moment, old feelings of motherly care began to bubble up inside of her as her pace quickened towards the children, before she regained her senses with a deep, shaky breath as she pushed the once familiar feeling back down inside.
These weren't her children, Salem reminded herself. Her children were dead, killed by Ozma so many centuries and lives ago. Nothing could replace them, no matter how close they looked.
A silver light exploded from her left, disintegrating all Grimm within its path to a fine ash within a second, the force even pushing Salem herself back a step.
As the light dissipated, Salem searched the wreckage to find its source until her red eyes locked onto a pair of silver eyes mere feet from the dying inferno. They belonged to a human who cradled another child within her broken arm, her silver eyes filled not with fear but a fearsome look of protectiveness.
Salem slowly began moving towards her, neither one breaking eye contact until she stood just in front of the dying warrior
“Salem.” The silver-eyed warrior spoke first, her voice scratchy and raw, but the tone still defiant even in the face of death incarnate. Anger flashed onto Salem’s face for just a second, until she forced apathy to smother it.
At this distance, merely a few inches, Salem could see that this warrior was close to death. A gash on her knee sputtered blood like a lazy stream whilst her two ankles were impossibly bent. Still, she cradled the small body in her lap with a fierce protectiveness, like a doomed prey animal protecting its young from a predator.
“A pet of Ozma then, I take it,” Salem replied, knowing the immortal wouldn't dare tell anyone but his own agents about her existence. “A bold plan indeed to send a single warrior and four children to do what he couldn't after centuries.”
“I'm not a pet,” the pet spat back, her voice venomous.
“Of course. ‘Pet’ implies he cares about you. ‘Tool’ fits you better, I suppose.” Salem replied with a deliberate carelessness in her voice.
Anger flooded her silver eyes as she squinted for a second, obviously preparing to unleash another torrent of silver energy.
Salem simply held up a hand.
“That won't do anything except kill you faster.”
The tool eyed her warily for a second, until her eyes opened back up. “I'm already dead,” she whispered, more to herself than Salem.
“Yes. Yes, you are. But remarkably, these children are not.” Salem pointed at the child within the tool's arms. As she did, the tool pulled the child closer to her. “Or at least not for now.”
“Don't.” She warned with a last bout of defiance.
“Now, now. Show me the child, or I promise you that the children's miraculous survival will be short-lived.” Salem threatened in a calm voice as her pale finger began twitching, beads of magic beginning to form on the fingertip.
The tool stared at Salem for a second, until her shoulders slumped in defeat. Carefully, she bounced the child with her one working shoulder, showing Salem a toddler with black hair, fair skin, and chubby cheeks so heartbreakingly familiar that Salem’s heart lurched. It was the spitting image of her youngest.
Except for the eyes. Both were gouged out, blood trickling from empty sockets.
“Please.” The mother whispered, her voice fully broken. “Save her.”
“What?” Salem answered back, her brain scrambling to find any other differences between the girl across from her and the girl in her memories.
“She doesn't have long. She’s going to die. Please.” The mother repeated, her voice cracking as she spoke. “Save her.”
The desperation of a mother. Salem knew it well. Knew that this woman would do anything to save her child, even give her to the forces of an ancient evil if it meant a slim chance that her daughter might survive.
“You believe I have the power to save them?” Salem asked with a hint of amusement, “What lies has Ozma filled your head with?”
“You have magic. More than Ozpin has from what he says. Surely you can do something.”
Salem tutted under her breath. It was true she had more magic than Ozma after he created the Maidens, but immortality was a curse only a God could bestow.
“Magic can only go so far, silver-eyed warrior. Even at the height of my power, I doubt I could save them.”
“Please!” The mother screamed, her voice jagged and edged as she fought for a breath. Her silver eyes brimmed with tears as she looked down at the still child in her shattered arms.
Those silver eyes that Ozma had recruited countless times often reminded Salem of the God of Light as he unfairly judged her for saving the man she loved, yet when Salem looked at this mother crying tears over her dying child, she only saw herself centuries ago.
An old, unwanted emotion started to creep into her undying heart for the first time in eons, its claws ripping into ancient memories as buried pain became unearthed.
She felt, for the first time in centuries, pity.
“I'm sorry.” Salem finally said as the woman's tears dried up.
A small, broken laugh escaped the mother as she looked lovingly at her scarred daughter's face. The two stayed like that for a moment, only the squawks of Nevermore and the crackling of fire daring to break the silence.
“Do you have children?” the Silver-eyed warrior finally asked.
“Four. A long time ago.”
“Would you have done anything for them?”
“I built a kingdom on the top of a mountain of bodies to keep them safe.”
The mother nodded as though she would have done the same. “The pools of Grimm. That could save them.”
Salem raised an eyebrow as the mother looked back up at her with a regained sense of defiance.
“It was a fairy tale my grandma told me when I was a child. A mother desperate to save her sickly child took him to a pool of Grimm and dipped him in by his ankle. He was cured of his illness and became one of the first to become a Huntsman.”
“A lovely tale perhaps, but just that. The pools of Grimm kill anything living the instant they touch them. I only lived due to my curse of immortality.”
The mother blinked at the mention of immortality, as if she truly didn't know, but she carried on, “but some fairy tales are true to an extent. The four Maidens, the two brothers. If the children had protection, it could save them.”
Salem hummed as she considered it. It was true that after her plunge into the dark vat of Grimm, she had lost all need for food, drink, and sleep whilst her powers grew tenfold.
But she was immortal. A constant. She had thrown herself in, hoping to die, not to grow stronger. These children would perish, despite the mother's desperate hope.
“If the children bore my curse, they would not be on the brink of death. What protection could you possibly give them to versus a God’s punishment?”
“My Semblance. I can protect others with Auras with my own at a reduced rate.”
“You believe a Semblance can match a God’s curse?”
The mother shook her head. “No, of course not. But a Semblance is just that. A semblance of real magic, isn't it? A remnant of magic to a world lost to time.”
“And you want me to boost your Semblance with my magic.” Salem finished. The woman nodded.
“The pain will be unbearable. Every nerve will be set alight. Your blood will boil in your veins. You will die.”
The mother looked across the field at the three bodies and at the young child in her lap with a soft smile.
“I’m already dead.”
Salem frowned as her mind raced to find an excuse as to why she pulled out the scroll Watts had given her. The more analytic part of her mind argued that it was good to have four more girls instead of trusting in only Cinder to wield the Maiden powers. She was also keen to have a descendant of a silver-eyed warrior serve her, if only to spite Ozma.
But a thought remained, no matter how hard she tried to shake it as she pressed the icon for Watts. A thought she knew was untrue, yet was so irresistible. A thought so alien it felt as if it were someone else’s.
The thought that this time, she could save her daughters.