It was the winter cold and lonely. Snow dotted the chilled air. Trees covered with a soft coat of frost. Spring was close, but for now he was used to the cold, he might have even preferred it. This winter was different from back home. It was engaging and surreal.

The glistening snow fell through the open roof, the hissing battlefield with black beasts circling. His heart steady, undead, cold. His breath cackled like static, it pulsed through the air. On a rested knee his stature was strong he had to put on a good show. The beowolves had surrounded him. Pairs of eyes anticipating his defeat. Her song eased his pain. Blood dripped from his helmet. A long clawed gash scraped through his lip.

His eyes skimmed the silent crowd. The stage above radiated with passionate lyrics. Her singing, her pain, she sounded lonely and lost. He could relate, after all, he had lost many things in his life. His lip quivered, crimson liquid splattered the earth below. A hand reached out to catch the bloodied beads. They weaved through the metal of his gauntlet. Blood like rain pattered the ground. In symmetry he wanted to sink into the ground.

Little did they know. A warrior would soon run wild!

"Prepare for your greatest moments. Prepare for your finest hour. The dream that you've always dreamed is suddenly about to flower. We are lightning, straying from the thunder, miracles of ancient wonder."

He walked into the White Castle. It was a long spiraling stone masterpiece, it carved neatly leading him to his destination. The day was going to be interesting, a fight to the death was new to him. It wasn't a foreign custom. His teacher had told him they would all end up doing the same thing. They would all have to fight or die. Such was the way they had all been taught. He had hoped to just be another face in the crowd. That wasn't the fact. He heard a shout. Obviously meant for him. Harassment wasn't a new thing. His eyes flashed from fluorescent purple to acid green.

"Hey freak!" He looked back to get a view. A small gang of punks. They were clearly interested in starting something.

"Hi." He did nothing as they grabbed him by the shoulders. They jerked Marcus around. Testing his ability to withstand torment.

"What's wrong? The Big Bad Wolf of Solitude to good for us normal folk." This is what he feared. Those misguided enough to try and test him. They had heard the stories. A Faunus who deserved everything he got. All the punishment. All the blame. All the remorse. So he was target. I said nothing which only agitated them more.

"So what you kill a family and you think you have the right to walk around here! You don't have any rights you Faunus Fuck!" His nose twitched. It showed weakness only long enough, they knew how to yank his tail now.

"You think you can just get away with what you've done! Someone has to pay animal!" They raised their fists ready to beat him to the ground.

"Guys I think the mangy mutt is begging for us to do this the emo bastard probably gets off from pain!" The snickered at their jokes. None had any truth to them. That didn't matter the reasons were justified. Family torn apart by an animal. Only their was human DNA mixed with it. Instantly people assumed the 'savage' Faunus race was to blame. Their fall guy Marcus Byron-Hale. Bastard son of one the richest man in the city.

"I think the correct term. Is Wolf." He lurched forward but a stern grip held him from advancing.

"That will do Marcus. Restrain yourself. You know better." A familiar smiling face. His father. Dirty blonde locks draped from his head all the way down to his neck. Marcus' hair was the same color. Yet it was different. In the right light you could swear it was dark brown. "Run along boys." The order was small, yet they acted it out with great respect. The great Tom Byron.

Marcus said nothing. He only took a step, followed by another. Soon he was walking away. He hadn't come here to be lectured. He came her to fight or die. Words were just another distraction right now. He would use them to make an excuse.

"Mirror tell me something. Tell me who's the loneliest of all. Fear of what's inside me; tell me can the heart be turned to stone?"

As the dawn faded, and night fell upon the battlefield. A shattered moon hung high above him. It was a beacon of hope in a grey world about to be engulfed in black. An untamed power whose cards have never been dealt.

A force of thunder and lightning that nobody has ever felt

He got back on his feet, lance aimed at the cracked moon. The moon was swallowed in darkness. For a brief moment everyone stared. a flash of light followed by a bang. The crowd jeered erupting in a sea of applause. His fathers face lit up with pride, he knew what was coming next. The wrath of gods called down by men. Lightning forked through the sky. Striking his lance with full unbridled power.

"Oh yeah, she's gonna love this!" He gritted his teeth the energy of lightning coursed through his veins, battle instinct kicked in taking over.

He aimed his lance and dashed over the cobble stone, the sound of metal cascading through the air, with a powerful thrust. The beowolf exploded in a sea of dancing light, taking the shape of girl, twirling as if she was dancing mouth open like she was singing. He didn't stop his fighting became rhythm with each kill the lances glow intensified. He flipped over raking claws, despite his armor weighing him down iron will pushed him forward. He slashed and stabbed his way through the horde of captive Grimm. He never wavered, he never stopped until he stood alone on the field. The hiss of electricity died down. As quite as a whisper a large snake coiled around him its tongue flicked over his armor taking in the magnetic taste. With grace he jumped landing on its back he began racking his lance across its hard scaly hide, not even scratch stained its skin.

He thought back to what his Professor had taught him.

If an enemy has an impenetrable defense.

Doing something stupid is the best offense.

The King Taijit flung itself head first towards him. His motion was fast and fluid.

He bashed the shaft of his lance against his left gauntlet activating his shield the Final Elysium. The head of the snake slammed into his shield. He smirked, he repeatedly smashed the face of the helmet into its jaws doing little damage but infuriating the Grimm. Fortitude was his strength. He bucked as it volley another barrage of attacks against his one defense. His lips curled into a cocky smile. The shield was glowing radiant blue. The light that surrounded the shield concentrated into the center becoming a tiny speck. Not a heart beat later a beam of pure electrical energy blew the snake away dissolving it in a sea of cobalt.

Lights, camera, fade out.

Blue is sad and always brooding, fate to walk with just his shadow

A/N

Disclaimer as I do not claim to own RWBY or any of its characters that amazing privilege belongs to Monty Oum and RoosterTeeth. I do however own The OC's I have created, the members of Team's SABR and WHTE however are all fan made.

This is a repost of an old story. It has been re-done and re-worked to be much better than the original. To any old readers reading this. Their will be lots of new content as I'm rewriting all the old chapters and some new ones will be shown that weren't in the original completely.