The snarls of the approaching Grimm monsters and the thunderous stomping of the hunters' boots are abruptly silenced by a radiant burst of light that floods the surroundings, engulfing your trembling form. Shortly thereafter, an impenetrable darkness descends.
As you cautiously open your eyes once more, where does your bewildered gaze land?
You opened your eyes to an unfamiliar wooden ceiling.
A gasp instinctively escaped your throat, and you attempted to jolt upright, only to realize that your movements were hindered. Your limbs encountered resistance, confining you in some manner. Glancing downwards, you momentarily puzzled over the fact that you were covered by a warm, fuzzy blanket instead of chains as expected.
That was an… unusual way to keep a prisoner trapped.
Shaking off your unusual bindings, you caught a flicker of movement in your peripheral vision. A surge of fear froze you in place as you observed a hulking man, adorned with intricate tattoos, blond hair, and ocean blue eyes, gradually rising from a chair positioned in the corner of the room. He appeared groggy and stiff, indicating that he had been sleeping there all along.
And you had just woken him up. Wonderful.
The man blinked in surprise at seeing you sitting up, but his demeanor remained calm and nonchalant, showing neither alarm nor anger at your awakening. Understandably so, considering he seemed capable of effortlessly snapping you in half with a mere flick of his pinky finger.
He rose up from the chair, swinging his shoulders with a groan as they popped loudly. "Phew, I really gotta stop doing that in my old age," the man said after a moment. He glanced at you with an easy smile. "Finally awake, huh? That's good, you gave me quite the scare earlier when I found you out in the woods. Thought I'd have to drive you all the way to the hospital, but thankfully it was just a regular case of Aura exhaustion."
You blinked and remained in a stupefied silence.
Hidden beneath the thick blanket, your hands instinctively reached for the compressed scythes fastened to your hips, only to find empty air. Your breath hitched as the realization set in that he had cleverly relieved you of your weapons. Now, all you had for self-defense was nothing more but your semblance and bare fists.
A pregnant silence filled the room as you continued to dumbfoundedly gaze at him, prompting an awkward cough from the man. "So, um... do you have a name, kid?"
Right, you had been trained for these types of situations. It was essential to buy yourself some time, to keep this man engaged in conversation while you devised a plan for escape
.
You struggled for a moment to find your voice again. It had been days since you had spoken anything other than grunts or screams, and your voice came out weak and scratchy from disuse as a result. "Sil... Silver," you croaked out, purposely omitting your surname as per your mother's strict instructions. "My name is Silver, sir."
The man's smile twitched slightly in amusement at the title. "Silver? That's a nice name."
Privately, you couldn't help but disagree. Being named after your eye colour was far from the most imaginative choice for a name. Nevertheless, you kept your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to reveal too much.
The man paused, his eyes lingering a bit too long on the scarred side of your face to be a coincidence. He snapped out of it as you averted your gaze in clear discomfort. "Oh! Look at me being all rude. My name is Taiyang, I'm a teacher at Signal Academy. Like I said, I found you unconscious in the woods and brought you back here. You've been in bed for a few hours now."
Confusion filled your mind as you tilted your head, hiding your bewilderment behind a blank expression. A teacher, not a bounty hunter? Considering his sturdy frame and the collection of scars adorning his broad, tattooed arms, it was hard to believe he taught subjects like mathematics. He had to be involved in combat training. The huntsman academies had fallen long ago, but you hadn't realized that something similar had been reintroduced by Salem.
Taiyang's concerned voice broke through your thoughts. "I hate to pry, but is there a reason why someone as young as you was alone in the middle of those Grimm-infested woods? If I hadn't found you when I did, who knows what might have happened."
You fought to suppress a grimace as he leaned forward, his curiosity evident. He studied your face intently, searching for any signs of deception. Experimentally, you flexed your foot beneath the covers. As expected, you were barefoot. Perhaps…
But first, you needed to respond and keep him distracted.
You slowly trailed a hand underneath the covers, the subtle movement failing to catch Taiyang's attention as he remained unusually fixated on your expression as you softly replied. "I was hunting for food. I got lost chasing a deer and ended up catching some Grimm's attention."
You cheered inwardly as your hand brushed over your ankle and over an attached holster hidden beneath your trousers. Yes! That blonde moron hadn't frisked you properly. All you had to do was wait for the right moment to grab your knife and attack.
Taiyang, oblivious to the danger he was in, looked unconvinced by your sloppy answer. "Lost, huh? Right, I suppose the woods are pretty big," he replied, his words clearly expressing skepticism. "So um... should I call your parents or guardian? I looked you up on Patch's registry and Signal's student records, but couldn't find anything. So, I'm guessing that you're either new or just visiting with your family."
"..."
"..."
Taiyang's smile became increasingly forced as you continued to stare at him blankly in total silence. You hadn't mean to clamp up, but the mention of… of your family had caught you off guard. You generally, and futilely, tried to keep them out of your thoughts whenever you could. Memories invited melancholy, melancholy invited misery, and misery invited Grimm.
Taiyang's next words came out gentle and unsure. "If you don't have a place to stay, you're free to stay here until you get sorted out."
You breathed and exhaled through your nose once, twice, thrice and then shook your head firmly. "Thank you for the offer, but that's fine, sir," you replied, your voice came out far more even and steady than you were feeling. Slipping out of the sheets, you gently lowered your feet to the ground, unable to prevent the small flinch as a wave exhaustion creeped in from just the small movement alone. "I've recovered enough of my strength. Thank you for saving me, but you don't need to burden yourself anymore."
Taiyang shot up from his seat, closing in on you quickly and easing you back down to the bed with a gentle push on your shoulders. "Hey! Whoa, whoa, kid! You're still not fully recovered, at least wait for your Aura levels to go back to normal first." Standing over your sitting form, you did your best not to flinch. Unintentionally or not, he was was practically towering over you at the moment. "Aura exhaustion is risky business, don't want to injure yourself now."
You hadn't thought this through, you had been far too hasty. With the sheets no longer covering you, you couldn't draw your knife without your intent being spotted instantly.
You gently pushed his hand off your shoulder. "I'll be fine, I'm used to fighting while tired." That seemed to be the wrong thing to say as Taiyang's face almost looked pained at the statement. You tacked on, almost desperately, "Please, you've done enough as is."
He crossed his arms and looked down at you disapprovingly in a manner that was painfully reminiscent of a certain blonde-haired aunt. "Even so, I'd be a poor huntsman if I just let you wander off in your state. At least stay for a few more hours and get some food in you to fill your aura back up."
You stiffened at the title. Huntsman, just like your family. He could have been lying for the sake of intimidation or clout, but you had trouble disbelieving his claim. The man was just the right age to have graduated from a huntsman academy before they were destroyed, if he had been strong enough to graduate then there wasn't the slightest chance that you could take him in a proper fight. Your mother was the strongest person you knew, and even she would try to avoid a fight with another huntsman if possible.
Swallowing your fear, you forced yourself to nod in agreement. "I suppose that's fair." He was right about one thing, aura exhaustion was an ugly thing. In your current state, you doubted that you could even conjure a simple platform glyph without keeling over from how tired you felt. "Okay, I can stay for a bit longer."
Taiyang was pleased by the answer, flashing his pearlescent teeth at you in a genuine smile. "Great! Don't worry, I'll stop hassling you when you're all better. I'll grab you some extra pillows real quick, you can get some more sleep if you'd like."
Not even waiting for your response, he turned and made his way to a closet at the other side of the room, exposing his back to you and seemingly not even putting his aura up. Unbelievable, leaving his back exposed to a complete stranger. How had this man survived for so long?
You pitied him only for a moment. But that didn't stop you from wasting a moment like this. But if you got a knife to his throat, then what? You could simply kill him, retrieve your belongings, and camp out here for as long as you could while you decided on what to do next.
Taiyang sneezed when was suddenly hit with a cloud of dust from the closet. "Ah! Look at the state of this thing. I swear, those girls have no respect…"
Steadily and methodically withdrawing your knife, you rose to your feet and quietly crept forward, your bare feet not making a sound as you crossed the carpeted floor.
Maybe you didn't have to kill him? He seemed genuine enough, it wasn't impossible to believe that good people still existed. Your eyes fell to his legs, noting the tan cargo shorts offering little in the ways of protection. He had aura and some degree of medical knowledge judging by the first aid kit by your bedside table, he'd be fine if you disabled his leg with a well-placed stab. You couldn't waste time afterwards, you'd need to find your equipment and scram, a huntsman couldn't be underestimated even with an injured leg. Maybe grab some food on your way out if you had enough time.
Taiyang perked up, as if reading your mind. "By the way, you picked a good time to wake up. I was just about to make dinner," he chuckled, warm and pleasant. "I may not look like it, but I'm a pretty handy chef. My daughters never complained and those two are as picky as you can get."
You froze.
Daughters. He was a father.
Your hand tightened on the knife, only for a moment, before relaxing and you found yourself warily holstering it before you could give it any further thought. You hastily crept back into your sheets before you could be noticed.
Taiyang choose that exact moment to pull out a bundle of pillows with a triumphant cry. "Ah hah! Found it. Really had to dig around for a second." Casually bounding up, he deposited it beside your other pillows. "There you go, shouldn't have a problem getting all snug and cozy now."
You smiled weakly. "Thank you."
"Don't sweat it. I'll go prepare dinner now, you just sit tight and rest, I'll call you over when it's ready." Taiyang - no, no, your father and auntie Weiss had raised you better than that. Mr. Taiyang shot you another smile and headed to the door. He paused momentarily at the doorway, glancing at your cloak with a look that was strangely melancholic. "That's a nice cloak by the way." he said with a low tone before quietly closing the door, his footsteps gradually growing quieter as he got further and further until there was nothing but you and the silence.
Your eyes stayed fixated on the oak door for a long moment, as if you'd find an answer to the multitude of questions running through your head. You buried your head into your hands and groaned loudly.
You were alone, unarmed, and completely clueless of where you were alongside a strangely benevolent stranger that could potentially be working with Salem for all you knew. Gods, you were a goddamned idiot alright. You had the perfect chance to eliminate or flee from a potential threat and completely blew it. You just couldn't bring yourself to do it, knowing that the man had daughters, knowing that you would be orphaning someone just as Cinder had orphaned you, the very thought disgusted you.
Well, what's done is done. You'd just have to see where this situation would take you now. What should you even do now?
Mr. Taiyang clearly wanted you to stay put while prepared dinner, but staying in bed unarmed while in the presence of stranger flew in the face off everything you'd been taught. Your knife was hardly what you would call ample protection in this day and age.
You looked out the window that was adjacent to the wall beside your bed. A large cluster of trees and autumn leaves were the first thing you saw. Odd, trees were usually bare in the winter. Where even were you? Mr. Taiyang had mentioned a place called Signal Academy, but you didn't recognise the name. Maybe it was some new military school that Salem had recently opened up?
Whatever, no point in speculating right now. You could just ask Mr. Taiyang later.
You glanced around the room you were in momentarily. It was fairly plain but undeniably cozy with all the commodities one would expect. A lamp, some drawers, and a sturdy looking table with a few work tools laying on top. The only thing that caught you by surprise were the Grimm figurines on the shelves. You could scarcely imagine how damaged in the head this room's previous occupant would have to be to collect toys inspired by humanity's greatest enemy.
A book on the desk in the corner of the room caught your interest for a moment and took your attention off the macabre practise. Kicking off the bed sheets, you took a moment to fold them properly - you weren't a savage, after all - before heading over to examine it.
Huh, a weapons magazine. It was incredibly old, dated almost twenty-five years ago, but it was in strangely good condition. A quick skim through showed a pleasingly complex set of engineering mathematics and weapon designs. You resisted the urge to pocket it in your cloak out of politeness. Maybe Mr. Taiyang would let you read it later if you asked?
Speaking of weapons, yours were still missing. Your host had likely decided to hide them in case you had ill intentions, smart of him. Seeing that your weapons clearly weren't in this room, you grabbed your cloak and swiftly exited through the door. Aside from the bathroom, there were two more rooms around you. A quick glance at the nearest door showed what looked like the master bedroom - which you quietly entered, thankful at the lack of squeaky hinges.
You spotted Crescent Rose's and Harbinger's compressed forms immediately, they were propped up next to what you assumed was Mr. Taiyang's closet, your rucksack also lying conveniently next to it as well. Smart of him not leave them with you, although it would have been smarter to hide them better.
You quickly marched over and grabbed them, relived to feel the familiar weight and the sensation of the textures of their worn hilts in your hands. You decompressed them both momentarily to look for any signs of damage or tampering. What an amateur, he hadn't even removed the loaded rounds. Satisfied that everything was in perfect order, you recompressed them with a click of a button and returned them to their rightful place on your belt, relaxing slightly at the familiar, comforting weight of them on your person.
Your rucksack was next. Everything was where you left it, either Mr. Taiyang was a kind fool or was just certain that he could take you on in a fight if you had unseemly intentions.
Maybe you'd stick around a bit after dinner after all.
You blinked harshly for a moment. Now that you weren't panicking on the inside and trying to escape, you noted how uncomfortable your eyes were. Reaching upward, you tentatively fingered your eye and were pleased to see that your contacts were still in place. That was a good sign at least, it was possible that he had removed your contacts only to put them back on later, but even your paranoid mind found that hard to believe.
You retrieved your eye drops from the pouches and removed your right eye's contact before applying a drip. Ugh, damn burns. Keeping your right eye moisturised at all times due to your damaged tear duct was a simple task, but one you tended to forget at times with how hectic things could get in your life.
You slipped your contact back on and exited the room, crushing the urge to snoop around. It would be rude after Mr. Taiyang had saved your life and could potentially be seen as a sign of aggression as well. You wisely decided not to piss off the man with arms as thick as your torso.
As you made your way down the stairs and to your promised dinner, something in the hallway caught your interest as you passed. It was a large framed photograph, you had only seen a few in your life in the ruins of old homes but you had never seen one in such high quality before.
Mr. Taiyang was in the center, looking the exact same. Weirdly enough he was even wearing the same outfit.
A little blonde girl with eyes the same shade of lilac as whom you assumed was her father was clinging to his shoulders and smiling at the camera in an adorable manner.
There was an infant as well, although you couldn't make out its gender as the majority of their body was swaddled in a red blanket. A rosy cheek and a short mop of familiar dark red hair was the only thing you could make out. But whatever curiosity you felt at that fact was quickly replaced by the overwhelming shock you felt when you saw the cloaked woman that was holding her.
Your breathing cut off and your entire body went slack in shock as you glanced the painfully familiar looking woman in white with silver eyes smiling genially down at the infant she was holding.
"… Mom?" you whispered in disbelief.
Mr. Taiyang's voice broke you from your reverie. "Kid! Food's ready!"
You took a moment to steady your breathing, still shocked at the haunting look-alike of your deceased mother. The tension in your body loosened slightly when you noticed the differences between your mother and the woman in white. Now that you took a better look the woman in white looked incredibly similar to your mother but there were some clear differences; the red cloak, the hair, small differences in their facial features.
A relative, yes. That had to be it. Maybe your mother had a few distant relatives she didn't know about.
But distant relatives couldn't look that similar could they...
Crap, what the hell were you going to do now? Did your new host know who you were? Your heart lurched at the thought and you immediately reached for your eyes to check that your red eye contact were still in place. Thankfully they were, Mr. Taiyang couldn't possibly have removed them to check without waking you up.
Damn it, he seemed like a good man, had saved your life, was planning to give you a warm meal, and didn't even make a fuss about your facial scar. But most good men couldn't resist the bounty Salem offered for turning in those with silver eyes. This place was dangerous, you had to subtly get some answers about the woman in white and leave before you could risk exposing yourself.
Steeling your nerves, your mask of stoicism settled smoothly back in place as you headed down the stairs. The living room was much like the top floor's rustic vibe; warm, cozy, and modest. You ignored the TV in the middle, nothing but a bunch of propaganda there anyway.
Mr. Taiyang was waiting for you in the kitchen with two plates in his hand. He smiled and motioned for you to take a seat at the kitchen table which you promptly did.
He deposited a plate of hot food and some utensils in front of you. Your nose was immediately hit by the absolutely delicious smell and you just realised how hungry you were. "Nothing fancy, just some eggs, bacon, and potatoes," Mr. Taiyang modestly said. "Dig in."
You shot him a skeptical look. Nothing fancy? This was practically a banquet for you, this was almost more food than you would usually eat in two days combined.
Your early wariness returned, but logic and hunger won out in the end. If he wanted to hurt you, he hardly needed poison to do it. You eagerly reached for your utensils, cutting a strip of bacon in half before dipping it in the egg yolk and taking a bite.
Oh, this was actually really good! So much better than MREs or mushrooms.
The meal was heavenly, it was almost as good as Uncle Ren's cooking whenever your family lucked out on an area with natural ingredients. Your tense mood gradually died down the more you ate. You dug into your meal with a speed that you would be embarrassed of later, your rationing instincts completely overtaken by hunger.
Mr. Taiyang smiled at the sight of you stuffing your face. "So I guess it's good than?"
You stuffed a baked potato in your mouth. "Mhmm." You blushed as you realised how rude you were at the moment, Auntie Weiss would have your head if she could see you now. "It's, Mhh, very good."
Mr. Taiyang laughed softly at your answer before focusing on his own meal at a much slower pace.
You enjoyed your meal in a companionable silence with Mr. Taiyang, the warm environment of a shared meal was something you had dearly missed, but you ended it after a minute to get to the uncomfortable answers you needed to receive. "So, I saw that portrait in your hallway, it that your family?" you asked after swallowing down the final strip of bacon.
Play it casually, you couldn't let him know about your own relations.
Mr. Taiyang's face grew into a proud grin. "My daughters, Yang and Ruby. The pride of my life those two! They're studying at Beacon Academy right now for their first year. Good thing old Ozpin's already got grey hair because those two attract trouble like I've never seen!" he laughed jovially, completely oblivious to the the whirlwind of emotions that he had just casually caused beneath your stoic mask.
Yang and Ruby.
Beacon Academy.
First year.
Oh.
The fork fell from your limp hands and clattered noisily against the ceramic plate, drawing a startled look from your host. "I'm sorry, did you say Ruby Rose?" you quietly asked with a blank tone.
"Uh, yeah," Taiyang's face scrunched up in confusion. "...How do you know her surname?" he asked, posture tightening in alarm.
No way, no way at all did he just say what you thought he said.
You didn't say anything for a moment, your gaze boring uncomfortably into Mr. Tai- no, just Taiyang's expectant eyes. At some point your trembling hands had reached for the scythes concealed under your cloak, a fact that an experienced fighter like him clearly noticed judging by the sudden tensing of shoulders.
"Silver?" he called out warily.
You let out a long exhale through your nose, your poker face only moments away from completely shattering into an angry snarl. "Ruby Rose... is my mother." you managed to spit out.
Taiyang blinked, the tension spilling from his body only to be quickly replaced with utter befuddlement. "What-"
You cut him off sharply. "And she died three months ago."
Another blink. He opened his mouth, closed it, and reopened it again. "What?" he repeated with an absolutely flabbergasted expression.
Oh, so he'd be playing dumb? That was the thing that finally set you off and broke your composure.
You stood up quickly, knocking your chair to the ground. Harbinger's ranged form was in your hand not even a second later, its barrel pointed menacingly at Taiyang's face. "What the hell do you mean 'what', you jerk!? Who are you and where am I really?" Picking a fight with a clearly experienced fighter like this went against every sensibility you had, but you were far too intoxicated with outrage to care at the moment.
Taiyang quickly rose from his own chair and backed up a short distance, waving his arms in a surrendering motion. "Woah, kid! Let's back up a minute!"
You viciously shook your head. "No! Answer my questions right now! How do you know my mother and my aunt!?"
"They're my daughters!"
"Don't you dare lie to me! I saw them die right in front of me three months ago!" you shouted.
Your breathing intensified with every pant. This was crazy, this was crazy.
Time travel? The thought was absolutely insane and sounded like something from Auntie Blake's novels.
And yet... looking at the man standing wearily across you, you could clearly see the haunting familiarity to your mother's deceased sister. The same blonde hair, the same lilac eyes.
Gritting your teeth you finally came to a conclusion, if this was really the man you thought he was than you had to risk it. Going against every single lesson your mother had instilled to you sheathed your scythes and in a quick motion reached for your eyes and removed the coloured contacts, unveiling the silver eyes that had endangered you since your birth.
Taiyang gasped softly. "You... you have silver eyes," he whispered in disbelief. He took a step back, looking like he had just seen a ghost and stood silent for nearly an entire minute. "… You said Ruby was your mother? Then that means your my..."
You swallowed nervously and confirmed his suspicion. "... Yeah, I think I'm your grandson."
He looked at you, really looked at you. From top to bottom, eyeing your scar, your cloak, and especially your eyes with an intense expression. He didn't believe you, of course he wouldn't. You weren't sure whether to believe it yourself.
He needed more than that to believe it.
You knew only one other way to prove it.
You hesitated, not at all liking the thought of leaving yourself defenceless like this. But as you continued to look at Taiyang's confused expression, at his clear resemblance to your dearly departed Auntie Yang, you slowly lowered Harbinger. Taiyang relaxed slightly as the scythe-shotgun hybrid was no longer aimed at his head, but his stance was still one of defence.
Numbly, you withdrew and unfurled Crescent Rose. Slowly and with exaggerated movements to show you weren't a threat, you held it out in presentation. "This was my mother's scythe, there's no other weapon like it in all of Remnant."
Taiyang cautiously took the offered weapon for inspection, turning it from top to bottom with a keen eye. Crescent Rose was a far cry from its original state, you couldn't hold such a goliath of a weapon in one hand after all. It had been resized to a much smaller scale, refitted with a different caliber to account for the recoil being too much to handle for your frame, and the crimson red and black paintjob had been changed to a steely grey and white. But there was no denying its similarities to anyone who knew of its precursor, the design, shape, and mechanism were far too similar to be a coincidence.
"Her name is-"
Taiyang interrupted you. "Crescent Rose," he finished, a humourless laugh escaping him. "Yeah, I know. Trust me, Ruby would take any chance she could to brag about it."
Distant, almost forgotten memories of your mother jokingly referring to her beloved weapon as her 'first child' resurfaced. "She did," you didn't smile, but the corner of your lips twitched by a fraction at the bittersweet reminder. "Called her my 'older sister' sometimes."
Taiyang snorted. "That sounds like my Ruby." He gazed at you mournfully. "You didn't recognise me when you woke up. By the time you were born was I..." he cut himself off, struggling to accept the possibility.
You shook your head. "This is the first time we've met to my knowledge. If you were separated from the others or worse, I can't say."
His face fell but than hardened to something resembling a resolved expression. He approached you, uncaring of the way your hands immediately reached for Harbinger in surprise. Soon he was standing over you, towering over your miniscule height.
You glumly realise that you barely reached his elbows. Of all the things you could have inherited from him, height clearly wasn't one of them.
Taiyang hesitated for a moment before raising his arms, eyes softening when he caught the way you flinched back in response. His hands slowly closed in to gently cup your cheeks, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. His hold and gaze is tender and soft, for a moment you're reminded of a woman with a single silver eye gazing lovingly down at you.
Taiyang's mouth trembled as cerulean eyes met silver. "I love you," he whispered, his eyes reddening. "I wish I could've told you that the moment you were born."
Your mouth parted open in surprise as you looked up at him. "What?" You were so shocked at the moment that you couldn't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed at the way your voice just cracked.
Of all the ways you were expecting him to respond this open acceptance hadn't even crossed your mind.
You stayed completely still. It had to be a trick, a cruel illusion from Salem or one of her minions to get your guard down.
But the solemn, melancholic look in the older man's eyes, it wasn't something that could be faked.
Your lips trembled and your left eye stung, the right eye's tear ducts having long since burnt out from the fire. You tried to school your expression as you had learned from Uncle Ren, but completely failed when the first tear slid down your unscarred cheek like a mark of shame.
Taiyang—your grandfather—immediately looped his arms around you and pulled you into a fierce hug.
You gave up on keeping your composure and pride intact. You wrapped your arms around his torso and sobbed into his chest, every single repressed feeling you've bottled up over the months since your mother's death immediately opening up as you clung tightly to the man who you had fantasised of meeting since you were a child.
Grandpa held you tight the entire time, rubbing soothing circles on your back in a practised motion. It had been scarcely a week since Auntie Weiss had died, but even then it had felt like an eternity since someone had just held you. You hadn't realised how you had taken such a simple comfort for granted before it had been cruelly snatched away from you.
When your tears finally ran dry and your breathing returned to normal you both reluctantly parted, gazing at each other with red-tinted eyes.
Grandpa smiled genially down at you, gently wiping your tears away with a calloused finger before doing the same with his own tears. "So, I imagine you've got quite the story to tell about how you got here, huh?"
You tilted your head at his easy acceptance of the bizarre situation, only to quickly drop it when you realised everything you had to cover. "It's... a very, long story," you mumbled, unsure of where to even start. "It'll take a while to explain."
Grandpa chuckled warmly. "Good thing it's a Friday, I've got plenty of time right now. But first, why don't I grab us some hot chocolate before you start?"
To think you were planning on stabbing this man a few minutes ago.
You've never had hot chocolate before, on your first sip you immediately became hooked and burned your tongue when you tried to hastily gulp the rest of the mug down much to your grandfather's—still weird to think about— poorly concealed amusement.
Sweets were a rarity in your time, chocolate was practically worth as much as gold. Or well, silver.
The light mood of the room immediately vanished when you started your story. Maybe starting off with Vale's fall was a bit too much...
You told him of how the Kingdoms fell one by one, the hysteria and paranoia that the rest of the world felt only rising with each fallen Kingdom, which in turn only served to attract more and more Grimm with each passing day.
You told him of Salem, the ruthless queen of the Grimm who had masterminded the entire thing and had ruled over the remaining survivors with an iron fist.
And finally you had told him of your family; your mother, brave to the end and who had taught you everything you had ever known, and also told him of your aunts and uncles who you had equally cherished and had been cherished by in return during those uncertain times. You were purposely vague about their deaths, you'd rather spare your grandfather the graphic details of how his daughters had died in the battlefield. You weren't exactly eager to recall those moments either.
By the time you were finished grandpa had gone pale and was staring into his now cold cup of hot chocolate with an empty expression.
"I...wow," Grandpa said breathlessly, palming his forehead in shock. For a moment you even think he might even faint but were proven wrong when he simply looked back at you with a crestfallen expression. "Silver, this is all really godsdamned crazy. I want to say you're lying but... well, that look in your eyes is proof enough."
You hesitated. "So, you believe me?"
Grandpa laughed humourlessly. "What, about the whole being my grandson from the future thing? It's quite frankly insane to think about, but I've known about magic being real for a while now, though I left that life when my girls were born," he shook his head glumly. "Damn it all, I didn't realise things were getting that bad. I knew there were bigger things going on behind the scenes, but something like this? You're only around ten and you've already gone through so much..."
The grief you felt from retelling the worst moments of your life was immediately replaced with offense to that statement. "I'm thirteen!" you squeaked indignantly, cursing at the way your voice chose the exact moment to crack. You had received way too many jokes about your miniscule height from Auntie Yang, the last thing you needed was Grandpa following her example.
Grandpa jerked back in shock at the force of your previously consistently reserved voice. "Oh, sorry! You uh, definitely got your mom's height then." He chuckled good-naturedly at your unamused look. "Sorry, sorry, I'll stop."
You grumbled under your breath indignantly at that. You considered telling him that the lack of food in your time had stunted your growth but decided against it, no point in worsening his mood anymore after everything you had just dropped on him.
Grandpa sighed, his weariness and age showing in the sound. "Okay, it's getting late so how about we both sleep on this? Feels like my brain's going to burst from shock any moment now. We can talk about what to do next tomorrow, if you'd like?"
You nodded.
"Uh, are you fine with taking your—ugh, and this is really weird to say—mom's room for tonight? It's the same one you woke up in but I understand if you'd want a different room."
You hesitated for a moment, the thought of sleeping where your mother had grown up filled you with a strange feeling in your chest. But in the end you agreed, you couldn't pass that up.
Your grandfather showed you around his house first, showing you the living room, the back garden, the bathroom, and even Auntie Yang's room. You tried not to balk too hard when you saw how much food was packed into kitchen, grandpa regarded your surprise with a sad smile.
You both called it a night soon after, grandpa retired to his room with a tired wave and promise to take you out to town tomorrow for new clothes so you reluctantly went back to your mother's room.
When you entered you were immediately taken aback by the smell, you hadn't realised it at first when you had woken up in a panic earlier today but the room had a familiar scent. The smell of oil and steel was weak but noticeable, you clung to the feeling of nostalgia it stirred like a warm blanket.
Memories of soft humming and the sharp of a whetstone striking against a blade echoed in your ears.
And with that thought, you were suddenly hit by a much bigger and important one that momentarily left you stunned.
Your parents were still alive in this world. Everyone was.
That thought was both exhilarating and frightening.
You knew they weren't your parents, not really. Your real mother and father had perished and you'd never see them again, the Ruby Rose and Whitley Schnee of this might not even have a Silver Rose of their own. From what you could tell by Auntie Yang's disparaging comments about your father's younger self—which was one of the only times you had ever seen him openly cringe—your parents would have never grown close if they hadn't been forced together by the Grimm's invasion.
They wouldn't even know you now. The thought of seeing someone with their face look at you and see nothing but a stranger? That upset you more than you'd like to admit.
You sighed and buried your face in your gloved hands.
This was all insane. Time travel? It sounded like something out of one of Auntie Blake's fictional novels. For all you knew, you were actually starving or bleeding to death in some mudhole and this was all nothing but a dying hallucination of a desperate, fading mind. Your mind being tampered with wasn't out of possibility either, your family's stories included opponents who could reach into and manipulate their very thoughts after all.
It wouldn't surprise you. You never received good things in life, only lost them one-by-one until there was nothing left.
No, there was no point giving this any further thought. You should just get some much needed sleep and hope you weren't a corpse by the morning.
You climbed into bed and hesitated for a moment before pulling Crescent Rose's compressed form out and laid it next to you, wrapping an arm around its frame and cradling it close to your chest. You had started sleeping like this months ago after you had inherited the scythe, only stopping when you had noticed Auntie Weiss's upset expression when she had caught you doing it, but you allowed yourself to have this small scrap of comfort for now. It was a poor imitation of your mother's embrace, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
Even if no one knew who you were here the thought of the members of your family living a long and happy life in this world would be worth whatever cost that was required of you.
You closed your eyes and for the first time in months fell asleep with the warm feeling of hope in your chest.
"Shopping? You don't have to do that," you said in response to your grandfather's offer to buy some new clothes and other necessities.
Grandpa crossed his arms and stared down at you with an amused expression. "Oh no, we are getting you new clothes. The only ones you have are those rags you're wearing? That just won't do."
You glanced down at your body and noted the numerous stains and holes on your clothing. You didn't really see the issue, they did their job of keeping you warm and covered. Sure they were a bit dirty and torn but that was nothing a soak in the river and some stitches wouldn't fix.
Grandpa had given you one of his shirts to wear last night, though it was more of a dress on you considering the severe height difference left it hanging all the way to your knees. You had changed back to your regular clothing in the morning, uncomfortable with being so sparsely dressed even if the house was warm. Hunters and Grimm wouldn't politely wait for you to change when you had to start running out of nowhere after all.
You shrugged. "Looks fine to me."
Grandpa gave you a look that was both annoyed and concerned. "Are you actually being-" he cut himself off with a sigh and rubbed his eyes. You noticed the dark circles under his eye, looks like he hadn't slept well after the giant bombshell you had dropped on him yesterday, not that you could blame him. "Right, you actually are serious."
"I just don't really see the point right now."
"Silver, it's unusual for people to have only one set of clothes, not to mention just plain gross. If you don't want to draw attention to yourselves then you need more clothes."
You decided not to mention the fact that he was still wearing the same clothes he had been wearing in hallway portrait that was taken over a decade ago. The temptation was still strong.
People seriously owned more than one or two set of clothing? Weird. But if that was the norm then you had better follow it.
Grandpa said that you were free to pick whatever you'd like. You'd obviously keep your cloak and armour to wear over your clothing but aside from that anything was free game.
What clothing should you buy?
You did a double take when grandpa drove you over to the nearest settlement. Everything was just so... clean. The building's brickwork was immaculate, there was enough pieces of trash on the streets to count on one hand, and there isn't a single starving beggar clad in tattered clothing.
You noticed the looks you were getting from the people you pass by, they were all pointedly looking at the burn mark on the right side of your face. You were used to stares from citizens of the settlements you visited with auntie Weiss on rare occasions in those few months between your mother's death and your arrival here, but those were more of idle curiosity or disgust, scars were hardly unusual in Salem's reign after all. The concern and genuine shock on the faces of the people you passed by was just baffling. One person even dropped their bag in shock.
You stuck close to grandpa for the rest of the trip.
When you arrived at the clothing store you didn't have the faintest clue on what to get when faced with the sheer variety of clothing options available, all the colours and different types left you overwhelmed. You had mostly just worn whatever you had access to, it wasn't exactly easy finding child-sized clothing when you were camped out in the wild or ruins of a destroyed city after all, sometimes you even wore layers of girls' clothing during the harsh winters.
Grandpa was perceptive enough to pick up on your confusion, seeming to alter between amusement and dread. He gave you some advice, mostly to pick darker colours to contrast with your white cloak.
You didn't see the point in it but whatever.
In the end you picked out several long-sleeved shirts, jeans, and a pair of sturdy boots that looked suitable for travelling long distances. Your favourite purchase was the black turtleneck sweater, you liked how warm it was and how it added some bulk to your thin frame. The way it did a good job of hiding the scars on your neck was also a bonus.
Fixated on the mirror hanging on the wall, you admired your new outfit in the privacy of the changing booth. With your scars, you were obviously still unpleasant to look at but the new clothing fit you well at the very least. Glancing backwards and ensuring it was safe, you shrugged to yourself and withdrew your scythes to strike a pose for the fun of it.
When grandpa recommended against buying so much warm clothing since Vale wasn't that cold you just pointed out that you'd rather be too warm than too cold ever again, he was oddly quiet for the rest of the shopping trip.
You also got some pajamas. Apparently people had separate clothes just for sleeping? How utterly bizarre. But they seemed cozy so you couldn't complain.
With bags in hand you both returned to the car. The stares were still present and you huddled closer to your grandfather. You didn't consider yourself the self-conscious type when it came to your looks—you knew you were ugly, it was just irrelevant in the face of everything else—but an hour of being stared at would make anyone uncomfortable.
"People keep staring." You hadn't meant to mumble it out loud, but it had spilled out the second you turned the last corner and found yourself alone with grandpa at last.
Grandpa made an inquisitive sound. "Oh? Ah, right. Figured that would have happened. Sorry for not telling you." He offered you an apologetic glance, sheepishly running a hand through his messy, blonde hair. "They don't mean anything by it. Patch is a peaceful place, scars are rare and kids with scars are even rarer."
A nice thought, but one did little to mitigate your discomfort. "Hm."
You had worn bandages over the right side side of your face after being injured, but aura and whatever medicine Auntie Weiss could scrounge up left it safe for you to remove them after a month of healing had passed. Your mother had worn an eyepatch over her damaged eye, maybe you could do the same? You didn't like the idea of losing half your vision like that, but you could take it off quickly enough when entering combat. But that did leave an increased chance to be ambushed.
But did you really want to deal with the staring every time you went outside?
You decide to leave it, auntie Weiss had told you that it wasn't something to be ashamed of and her advice had yet to let you down. You'd just learn to ignore the stares.
Grandpa bought you a Scroll next, you had no idea how to use it but it was definitely neat. Your family used Scrolls on occasion but they always tossed them quickly after use, mom had said it was to 'avoid being tracked', whatever that meant. Grandpa assured you that it wouldn't a problem since no one was looking for you.
Your final trip was to a Dust store, you admitted you feeling a bit shocked when you saw your father and auntie Weiss's family crest brazenly stamped on the building. They never wore the symbol in open for the sake of subtlety, but they had made sure that you knew about your heritage.
Grandpa didn't make the connection of your white hair and the Schnees, you weren't really sure if that was important enough to bring up so you'd just leave it for the moment.
You can buy two pieces of Dust. What do you get? Ice, Fire, or Lightning?
The first thing you pick up is some lightning Dust, Time Dilation was always risky but it had saved your life on numerous occasions by now. You picked up some ice Dust as well, that was always nice to have in case you needed a barrier or just wanted to freeze someone solid.
Your gaze quickly passed over the fire Dust. You weren't quite ready to be around fire at the moment you glumly think as you trace your scar with a gloved, equally burnt hand.
With your business concluded you returned home, to your hidden relief. Even with grandpa's pointers you utterly fail in making sense of your Scroll during the car ride. You quickly settled your new belongings in your room, grandpa practically demanded that you change into your new clothes at once so he could throw away your old clothes. You complied, pleased to finally wear clean and whole clothing.
Grandpa made dinner and it was as amazing as the first time, you've never felt so full in your life. A little odd that it was noticeably larger than last time though, but you weren't dumb enough to complain.
By the time you two finished dinner grandpa had told you with a serious expression that it was time to have an important talk. "So I think it's time to talk about our next move." he started, wringing his hands nervously. "I got out of the whole 'world conspiracy' thing early on, wanted to focus on my family. But I know a guy who's still involved in it so if you want to meet Ozpin and tell him your story than I can arrange it."
Your fork hovered mid-air over your steak.
You... hadn't actually thought about what to do now. Your mind had been overwhelmed by the fact that you had gone back in time by a full twenty-four years and realisation that your entire previously dead family was now alive and and over twenty years younger to even consider it. There was also sharing a house with the grandfather that had passed away before you were even born, you were still having trouble wrapping your head around that.
You obviously couldn't just stay here and play house forever, as nice as that honestly sounded. That would just be both selfish and stupid with what you knew was coming.
What should you do now?
You got a thought, wasn't Qrow involved with Ozpin? Was that who grandpa was talking about?
"Is Old Uncle Qrow around?" You tilted your head in thought. "Though, I guess he would just be 'Uncle Qrow' now."
Grandpa's expression goes momentarily blank before he broke out into snickers. "'Old Uncle Qrow'? Oh, he's absolutely going to hate that." He recomposed himself after another round of laughter. "Of course he's still kicking around after twenty years, that man's way too stubborn to kick the bucket so soon."
You'd take that as a yes. "So he's your contact for Ozpin then? Will he even believe that I'm from the future?" Wow, that sounded even weirder when you said it out loud.
Grandpa grimaced. "He'll definitely be skeptical at first, but since you know about this... Salem wack job then he'll probably believe you if it's true and verify your story bringing you over to Beacon to meet Ozpin."
You nodded. It seemed like a good plan. "Alright, go ahead and make the call then."
The call lasted almost an entire hour, you were in your mother's room messing with your new Scroll while it was happening but you could easily make out your grandfather's nervous pacing and raised voice through the wall. It sounded like things weren't going all that well.
Grandpa knocked on your door and entered as soon as he finished his call. "He's on his way right now, he'll arrive here in about a few days to verify your story." He sighed in relief. "I... could have maybe played that a little better. Mentioning your story about Ruby and Yang really struck a nerve."
You nodded. It was pretty crazy, you couldn't exactly expect everyone's reaction to be as accepting as your grandpa's was. Uncle Qrow had always been a major hard ass, it made sense that he'd be so suspicious.
"So we just wait for him now?" you asked.
Grandpa shrugged. "Pretty much, a few days isn't too bad. We've still got a few months before Salem attacks after all, it'd be good to get you used to used to normal life until than."
You looked down. You didn't really like the thought of just sitting around relaxing while Salem was building up her Grimm army to take down Vale.
Grandpa flicked your nose. "Hey now, don't get all gloomy. We can get some training done in the meantime. How good are you at hand-to-hand combat?"
Your wince was answer enough. Auntie Yang had given you a few lessons but with your small frame you had never been an effective brawler. Auntie Blake and Uncle Ren's more acrobatic styles had served you better on that front.
Grandpa looked unsurprised. "Heh, take after your mom I see." He smiled patiently. "Well, we can try to remedy that at least, I am a teacher after all. But first let's try a normal spar in the morning, kind of curious to see what my girls taught you."
You nodded. It'd be nice to finally get a good fight in, you weren't used to having so much free time now that Auntie Weiss wasn't here to make you do your daily drills.
… Oh, and now you've made yourself sad.
It was time to sleep.
Grandpa woke you up early in the morning and dragged you to a clearing a short way from the house. You spot slash marks, bullet holes, and fist-sized indents among the tree trunks, seems this used to be your mother's and aunt's training grounds as well. You felt a soft flutter in chest at that.
Grandpa stood a few feet away with you with his arms crossed and body rigid like some kind of military trainer. It's honestly kind of dorky coming from him. "Alright, Silver, let's see what my daughter taught you. Come at me with all ya got!" he raised his fists in a boxers pose and awaited you, not even bothering to equip his weapon.
Well, you'd show him that was a mistake.
You bent your knees slightly, Crescent Rose and Harbinger unfurling as you held them behind you in a reverse grip.
You hesitate for a moment on what your first move will be. Rushing in seemed like a bad idea but what else could you do? Time Dilation? It would definitely even the odds and you were at a safe distance to cast is safely. But were you really going to waste your only piece of Lightning Dust just to impress your grandfather?
…
Yes, you totally were.
Grandpa raised his brow in curiosity when you pulled out a piece of lightning Dust, only to gape in surprise when a golden clockwork Glyph appears beneath your feet. You tensed up as the familiar energy seeped into you, accelerating your speed greatly as the crystal dissipated into energy in your hand and the hour and minute hands of the glyph beneath you spun at a rapid pace.
The world slowed down before your very eyes. Grandpa's fluid movements turned sluggish, then staggered. That same phenomena spread outward to the rest of the world around you—the falling leaves of the surrounding trees seemingly sunk into the air as if they were molasses; the same went for the birds, once startled by your flight and flushed into the air, now seemed paused in motion as if pinned in place by an invisible force.
The effects of a basic time dilation glyph were nowhere near as dramatic as time travel, but slowing the passage of time for yourself while everything else remained the same was invaluable. You were physically inferior to everyone you had ever fought, your agility was the only thing that could be relied on above all else.