Focused and determined, Cecelia created more than just one fire. A single blue fire gave life to four more flames.

A red flame, that seemed to burn with a will of its own, began to dance as it enticed her. Her Nova Fire, a deep majestic blue, burned and whipped with life anew at her command. A golden flame, Phoenix Fire as her father called it, became duller by the moment. Finally, came a singular white flame that seemed to burn without heat, give off light without life intended to receive it.

She controlled them all until they all vanished at once, and in their place came one singular fire. A dark ember, that she had unintentionally brought forth by her own. Black as midnight with a sinister and malicious aura around it. She let it dance throughout the air. It seemed to suffocate the air around her, but she welcomed this foreign and intoxicating flame.

Pyromancy ran in her blood, it was as much a part of her as the thrill of fighting. Her father wielded flames without equal and her mother could become a raging inferno if she was pushed far enough, but neither of them had ever told her of a black flame. A curious idea came to her mind and she couldn't resist but try it later. For now, she made herself comfortable once again, tucking herself back into her bed, unaware of the black crow that sat outside her window.

She hated studying, every living second made her regret wanting to become a Huntress, but it was the price she chose to pay. She had stopped listening to her professor drone on about the vulnerabilities of newfound Grimm, instead choosing to doodle in her book of notes, making childish drawings of her friends and teachers.

A few rows away, she spied her brother who sat and attentively made notes of everything. She loved her brother more than anything, but he was a bookworm like no other. Him and Nakagami were a pair of studious partners and often were called nerds by Yale. Finally the bell rang, freeing Cecelia from her imprisonment as she bolted out of the classroom. Her mind began to drift out of sheer boredom, wondering what her father and mother were doing at this very moment. As she walked, she noticed the glances and hushed whispers of people that she passed. She pretended not to be aware, but she heard them.

Crazy, insane, pyschopath and monster were some of the nicer things they said under their breaths. But every now and then she heard the phrase that made her blood boil.

The murderer's daughter

When she first heard that name when she was younger she nearly lost herself in her rage and attacked the person who had dared to say it to her face. If it hadn't been for her brother and mother, she might have crippled him or worse. She knew bits and pieces of what her father had done a long time ago, but she didn't care. They didn't know anything other than what they were told by their own parents, unlike Cecelia who knew both sides.

Drowning out the hushed insults, she found herself back in her team's dorm and sat on the edge of her bed. She grabbed her massive sword from the side of her bed, placed it on her lap and began to sharpen it with the whet stone she kept under her pillow.

Even as the rest of her team entered the room and spoke their greetings, she allowed her mind to drift as she worked.

" Forged from a fallen star," Nakagami said as she sat across from Cecelia. " Your blade is a wonderful creation. I truly envy you for it."

Cecelia ceased sharpening her sword and looked up, Nakagami's golden hair and silver eyes were always a calming sight, no matter the anger or disdain either of them would have been feeling.

" Thats what my father said about this thing," Cecelia said as she raised her sword. A two-handed greatsword with a blade that constantly seemed to gleam without aid, like a shining star. " Really is kind of hurtful on the eyes but you get used to it."

" Keep talking Sis," Asher said from his side of the room, sharpening his knives with a whet stone. Each was tempered with ease, Asher leaving nothing to chance were as Cecelia was more lax with the maintaining of her weapons." We all know how much you love that sword."

" Always so hostile, Asher" Nakagami said lowly as her eyes drifted from Cecelia to her greatsword. " Family shouldn't fight and bicker."

" It's in our blood. I live to fight, so does our father and mother. Asher, not so much."

Asher shot his sister a glance, Cecelia only smirking in response. Nakagami only smiled lightly before Yale entered the room, rifle slung over his shoulder.

" There's the sharpshooter. Where have you been?" Cecelia questioned curiously. Yale didn't answer, only walking directly to his bed and reached under it. He grabbed a small black box, stuffed it into his pocket and walked out without a word.

" Wonder what he's got planned."

Sitting alone on the roof of the dorms, Yale opened the box he had kept with him for so long. One last reminder of a life he had a long time ago. He was so lost in memory that he didn't hear who appeared behind him.

" Jaune and I promised you vindication for what happened," the voice said as Yale shot to attention, box still in hand. " And I aim to keep that promise, but you need to know ally from enemy. Not every Angel wants to subjugate us."

" I understand. But... I can't forget. I have to remember what they took and I what I took from them. May I speak freely?"

" By all means, I wouldn't have it any other way."

" When I was tasked with joining Beacon, and becoming a part of Team CYAN, I was.. uncertain. I felt and still feel safer working by myself. I don't operate well in groups, but by the grace of Nakagami, that's slowly changing. I suppose that is a good thing. Still, when the Angel stole my family from me and I took his left eye from him."

A chuckle came from Yale, even as he gripped the box in his left hand. " I want... I need to take life, like he robbed my family, my village of theirs. Please, when the time comes, don't send me away. I know assist the people comes first, but when war comes, I want to be the one to take his heart."

A brief silence came over them before a hand was placed on his shoulder, comforting and calming. " I remember that day like I remember all of them. I swore to you on that day that you'd have justice served. And I swear to you, we'll storm Heaven if need be."

A small wave of relief washed over Yale as he nodded in understanding. " Thank you, Sir. Can I keep to myself for the rest of the day or am I needed?"

" You can have the rest of week to yourself if you want. Nothing new to report."

Yale nodded in understanding, waited until he was alone again and opened the small black box. To anyone else, it was a clear round diamond, catching the light in over a thousand different ways. But he knew otherwise.

It was the last reminder, and the first taste of vengeance. The eye of hatred, of disdain, of disgust and rage.

The eye of the Black Angel.