AN: Quick thanks to Untold Mage for allowing me to use his artwork.

The wind whistled in Ruby's ears as she ran up the side of the CCT tower. She could feel the gentle hum of Weiss glyphs underneath her feet, countering the rough surface of the tower's crumbling walls. Despite her height, she could still hear the distant screams and gunshots of the battle raging below. Weiss's last words rang in her ears.

"You can do this."

Up and up she went, praying for her friend's sake and her own that Weiss would not be interrupted until she finished her ascent. At this height, her aura would provide little protection from gravity, and she really, really didn't want to die of massive internal injuries and/or a broken neck. Still, her legs were beginning to ache, and it wouldn't be much longer until she ran out of options.

Thankfully, the top of the tower wasn't much farther, so she gathered her strength and pushed forward. A few more metres and she'd get there, and she'd save Pyrrha and stop all of this.

Somehow.

Ruby leapt over the side and landed in a small pile of rubble. Stones clinked off the sides, a few lucky pebbles striking her arms and legs. They hurt, surprisingly. The battles of the night had drained most of her aura. Looking upwards, Ruby drew her scythe, prepared to fight any opponent to save her friend.

Fate had other plans that night.

Cinder, Emerald's team mate, drew back her glass bow, and let loose an arrow. It whistled towards Pyrrha's chest. Ruby tried to move, to block the shot, but her limbs refused to move quick enough, they felt as if she was moving through water rather than air.

She was helpless as it struck through her friend's heart, burning her from the inside out. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't pull her gaze away from Pyrrha's disintegration, couldn't help but follow the ashes that flew into the night.

Cinder walked over to her, completely unbothered. Ruby found herself tilting her head upwards to look at Cinder's face, having fallen to her knees since arriving.

"Another young girl, fighting a war she cannot win?" Cinder drawled, her heels clicking along the ground. "Ruby, isn't it?"

"You killed her," She whispered, her grip on Crescent Rose tightening.

Not noticing her words, Cinder continued, "I am sorry about your friend." She glanced over at Pyrrha's circlet, "Such talent, wasted."

Ruby felt hot tears fall down her cheeks. Cinder continued to monologue for what felt like hours, but all she could focus on was the thin circle of metal sitting in front of her. She'd never seen it separate from Pyrrha before, not even the dance.

Now it was alone, its owner gone.

Ruby had failed.

Shoving herself to her feat, Ruby rushed Cinder, Crescent Rose swinging out in front of her. She screamed, "MURDERER!" And carved a horizontal slash, encompassing everything in front of her.

Cinder was sent flying, crashing into a haphazardly placed gear teetering off the edge. A sudden shriek drew Ruby's gaze from her towards the large Grimm from before. It was charging at her, killing claws poised to strike.

Before she had a chance to maneuver out of the monsters way, she was struck by a gout of fire from behind. The last shreds of her aura disappeared, leaving her prone on the ground, defenseless. Crescent rose bounced along the ground, falling off the tower and onto the ground far below.

"This is my time!" Cinder roared, flying, actually flying over her. She raised a hand wreathed in flames. "My power, my fate!" She spat.

Ruby coughed, and then spat out, "My friends will stop you!" She tried to push herself up, but couldn't get her arms to cooperate.

Cinder smirked. "Let them try." Her body shook, and two giant waves of fire arced towards her.

Time slowed to a crawl. Ruby saw the dragon dive bombing her, twisting itself so that its blows would not injure the women above her. She saw the flashes of gunfire from the city and courtyard, could even see Yang, Blake, and Weiss, all huddled around a ship, the conscious members of her team eagerly awaiting her return.

Most of all, she saw Cinder, floating above her in all her terrible glory. Flames flickered over her dress, arcing over her arms and calves—all channelled towards the killing strike she had launched.

The realisation struck her as surely a cannonball. Her friends would come, and they would die under this madwoman's power. And there was nothing she could do.

In that one moment, that horrible, haunting moment before her life was wicked away, she felt a pressure build throughout her skull. The pain felt similar to that of a concussion, but significantly worse.

Moments before the flame reached her, her eyes began to burn. For a few milliseconds she thought it was the flames, but the look of shock on Cinder's face soon made her realise that is what not.

"WHAT!?" Cinder screamed, scuttling backwards. The dragon roared, and the flames had disappeared.

Cinder's face, eyes bugged out, mouth open, was the last thing Ruby saw before everything went white.

Two men sit at a chess set in a drawing room. One is tall, with elegantly combed black hair turning to grey. He wears a fitted suit and tie, no wrinkles or creases anywhere. Despite his serious appearance, there is a twinkle in his eye as he maneuvers his pieces around the board, and his face is lined with the remnants of many nights filled with laughter.

The other is shorter, younger. His black hair is unmarred by age, yet it's far messier than the elder's is. His outfit is far cheaper, consisting of an off the rack jacket and shirt, combined with a huntsman's leggings. The thick leather clashes horrible with his manner, but the man is untroubled by this. Once, he told the older man that he "Never found another pair that fit me."

The youngest moves a chess piece, causing the older to move his queen.

"Check," He tells the younger man, lifting his eyes. The youngest doesn't respond, seemingly distracted by two birds flitting by the window. The older man coughs.

"Check," He repeats, and this time the other man listens. His gaze slid from the window to him, and comprehension dawned on him. He grinned wryly and began to survey the board. Not only was his king vulnerable to his queen, but also most of his pieces had already been defeated, lying forgotten at the side. Few options were left to him, and all required great risk.

Finally, he picked up a knight and placed it in front of the king, blocking his queen's advance. It was an intelligent move, one of the few he still had available, but still he hesitated. Not out of fear, as one would expect, but as if he had forgotten where he was.

"Does something trouble you, my son?" The elder asked, pulling his queen back to a safe distance.

"No, my liege." He responded, before shifting in his seat and biting his lip. "Well, perhaps there is." With a small movement he pushed his knight forward, ridding the board of one of the elder's pawns.

"Then pray tell." The elder told him, "And perhaps I may be of assistance."

The younger man shook his head. "No, it is a trivial flight of fancy, no need for you to become involved." As he spoke, the elder moved a pawn near his end of the board to the end, and turned it into a queen.

"Very well sir." They younger man said, ignorant of the new piece on the table. "What do you know about, well, time travel?"

The elder laughed, a deep, booming sound that echoed through the room. "That was the question that vexed you so?" With a chuckle he moved his new queen behind his opponent's king. "Check."

With nary a word the youngling moved, taking out his queen with his king. A risky maneuver, and quite possibly a grievous mistake. "It was not the question that vexed me, but your answer. I've been… reading some scholarly articles about the maidens, and I've…"

"Don't tell me you believe in that hogwash?" The elder interrupted. "It's madness, the idea of magic. Aura is one thing, but that is, well, it's something else entirely!" He scanned the board, and smiled. With two fingers he pushed his original queen close to the king. "Check."

"You call it fraudulent, yet I myself have seen proof." The younger man moved his knight, setting it up to take out the queen. "I've seen the maidens battle. It was truly an awe-inspiring sight."

"Humph." The elder grunted, shifting his attention from the chessboard to his opponent. His mouth carried a smirk, along with an air of satisfaction. Despite the offense it provided, the elder didn't comment on it. Truly it was a rare day for one to surprise him. "Time travel, you say?"

The young man nodded.

"The issue, my boy, is physics." He told him, leaning forward. "Even if this magic is real—"

"It is!" 'The boy' insisted. The older man scowled at the interruption. Such insubordination could not be tolerated, later he would find a suitable punishment.

"—Even so," He continued, pausing briefly. "Time is not a river, flowing from right to left. There is no speed at which it moves, as it cannot be measured."

"Isn't that the purpose of clocks?" The younger man asked, tilting his head to the side. "To measure time?"

The elder chuckled. "Only in a form that can be understood by a human mind. Yes, clocks measure time, but what use is this without a comparison?"

"I—I don't understand."

The elder leaned back. "To put it simply, how fast does time move?"

The young one opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Exactly. Time does not act like some river, it is something wholly different from our normal laws. So how, exactly, would one travel through it?"

The young man didn't answer. For several minutes, the only sound was the clock, its pendulum swinging back and forth in its case. The eldest leaned forward, and shifted his last remaining knight to counter its mirror. The game was won now, his opponent had lost any reasonable methods of attack or defense.

"But what if it was possible?" His opposite asked, ignoring the game. "What if it did transpire? What would happen to the person?"

The eldest sighed, it seemed the world did not wish for him to finish this battle in any reasonable time. With great reluctance, he said, "Assuming that this hypothetical scenario takes into account at least some of reality." The younger man coughed. "Then such a reaction would require incredible energy. The kind that a full grown huntsman could scarcely hope to witness, let alone have access to."

"What about the maidens?" He urged, "Could they have the power?"

"Perhaps, as could the wizard." The elder taunted, "Regardless, even assuming that power could exist, what could be transported, people? Aura? Memories?"

The young man shrugged, a gesture that irked the elder to no end. "I'd imagine aura, or perhaps memories."

"Really?" The elder queried, "Please, explain."

"Well," He shifted in his seat. "They are less, well, physical than a body. I simply suppose that they would travel better."

The eldest pondered this assumption, and declared it valid. "If this is true, then let us assume Aura is the package. If, let's say you, sent the package backwards, where would it go?"

"What kind of question is that?" The young man answered, letting out a harsh laugh. "Where I sent it, of course!"

"And how would you control that?" The elder's voice quickened, a maniac gleam in his eyes. It was a look that the younger man both enjoyed and feared, for it meant that the man had discovered some mystery that interested him. "Aura is no box, it does not simply sit where one wants it to. If an Aura, belonging to a person, is separated from that person, it will not rest until it can reunite with its other parts."

"Of course."

"Indeed, of course." He repeated. "But you do not understand what that means. Aura still follows the same laws as the rest of the natural world. It cannot take the same place as other Aura without either drawing it out or destroying it! Laws of physics, my boy, make time travel impossible!"

He glanced at the clock. "Well, look at that! You've got me rambling!" With a good natured sigh he returned to the game. Surveying the board, and remembering what he was doing, he remarked, "No matter, as the game is over, for you at least."

The younger man checked the board, searching for anything he could do to win. There wasn't. It was no longer a matter of tactics, as he had simply lost too many pieces to effectively counter attack. It was, really, a checkmate, but he felt it cruel to simply announce it without giving his enemy a chance to fight back. Useless as it would be.

"So it seems." He admitted, before a dangerous smirk grew upon his head. His cheekbone's lifted, his eyes glinted, and the elder gained the uncomfortable feeling of being hunted.

"So it seems, but as a wise man once told me," He lifted his last remained piece, his king. "If you find yourself in a game you cannot win," He said, and then moved the piece up and over the queen, knocking it off the board and onto the floor. The elder gaped at him, stuttering. The young man's smirk grew wider.

"Change the rules."

The gentle, chirping sounds of birds drew the sleeping form of Ruby out from underneath the covers of her bed. Blinking away groggy eyes, she starred out her window, glaring at the early morning sun. Outside, she could see trees, leaves green, waving in the wind. Thousands of birds flitted from branch to branch, singing their offending notes.

Turning her senses inwards, she smelt fresh cookies, wafting from the kitchen. Pots and plates clinked, again and again, and Ruby could just make out the sound of her dad—Taiyang Xiao Long—humming as he cooked. Some old song played in the background, the lyrics muffled by her door.

Slowly, Ruby got to her feet. The floor creaked as she landed, and she heard Dad cease his singing. Staying stiller than an ice statue, she waited until he began moving again before she walked over to her door. She glanced at the other bed, checking to see if Yang was in it. The bed was empty, perfectly made, and no sign of anyone sleeping there in months. Odd.

Somehow, she got home. She didn't remember how, or when, really, but whatever had happened at the school hadn't killed her. How, exactly, she was alive was a question she couldn't answer.

It wasn't as if she had amnesia. No, her memories of the past few hours were flawless, every detail assuredly carved into her mind. She just remembered Cinder's final attack, and then, nothing.

Nothing until now, at least.

Doing her best not to make too much noise, Ruby gently threw open her door. Taking a quick step outside, she suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of wrongness. Hastily she pulled her foot back in. Standing at the edge of her door—feeling incredibly stupid—she tried to figure her feeling.

It didn't feel wrong in the moral way. She wasn't doing something wrong, wasn't going against any kind of rule she had about the world. It just felt like…like she was forgetting something, something she had to do. Ruby put her hands on her hips, putting them a little closer to her front than her back to avoid—

Crescent Rose. Her weapon, which was probably in storage right now. And not on her. That's what felt wrong. So many terrible events could have been avoided if she had been armed, and now the lack of her scythe made the world feel off kilter.

Gritting her teeth and shaking her head, she ignored the sensation. She was home, there was nothing here that could threaten her.

She crept down the hallway, passing by cream colored doors. From the kitchen, she could hear dad pulling out plates and setting them down, presumably on the table. The bathroom door was open, but the guest room door was closed. The few times she could remember that happening was when Yang got sick and needed to be quarantined. Her mind went back to the courtyard, and her sisters severed arm.

She went to knock on the door, ask if Yang—for she was the most likely person to be in the room—if she was okay, but her hand stopped before it met the wood. Putting her ear to the door, she listened for any sign that her sister was awake. The room was quiet, except for the gentle snores of her sister, a few creaks from the bed, and the soft click of a clock striking the hour.

Sighing, Ruby set her open palm on the door. Clearly her sister was still asleep, and she was loathe to awaken her. If she thought she was tired, she couldn't imagine how exhausted Yang must be.

She continued into the kitchen. Dad was standing in front of the stove, two frying pans full of bacon and pancakes sizzling in away in front of him. His scroll was on the counter, leaning against the wall, playing the music she heard from her room. The fridge was open, cold air giving rise to goosebumps on her skin. He was humming along to the music, having not noticed his daughter come up behind him.

Ruby didn't, couldn't move. She was struck down by the sheer… normalness of the scene in front of her. She came back from a—a war, so he made pancakes? Sure, her father was a bit eccentric at times, but this felt almost callous. An affront to the lives lost in the battle. Was it some attempt to comfort her? Did he think she had forgotten what happened, and didn't her to panic until she figured it out?

All these thoughts and more flew through her head as Ruby stood there, staring at her father. So the last thing she expected was for him to reach over to his scroll, switch it off, and then turn to her. Grinning widely, he said, "Morning Rubes!" He smiled at her warmly, his eyes twinkling. "Dressed already, huh? Looking forward to today?"

Ruby didn't respond, but her mouth dropped open. For a moment she was frozen to the spot.

Suddenly, she ran to Dad and pulled him into a crushing hug. Surprised, Dad did nothing at first, but when his daughter began to sob, he pulled her closer.

"Shh…" He whispered, "It's okay, it's okay…"

"Dad… I'm so sorry…" Ruby cried, laying her head on dad shoulder.

"What's your fault? What happened?" He asked. Ruby sniffled, and then pulled back to face him.

"I couldn't… Pyrrha and Penny and…" She told him, her cries subsiding.

"Who's—what?" He asked, confusion clear on his face. "Ruby, what are you talking about?"

Now it was Ruby's turn to be confused. "Um, Beacon?"

"The school?"

"Well, yeah." Ruby retorted, "I mean, you know? The tournament and the battle?"

"Ruby, I have no idea what you're talking about." Dad told her, "Is this a dream you had?"

"No! Dad, the Vytal festival? The one that Yang broke a guy's leg on? Even though he didn't, actually, cause I just saw the guy that she hit and he was walking around so his leg clearly wasn't broken and—"

He shut her mouth with his hand. "Ruby. The Vytal festival isn't for another six months."

…What?

"What?" She said once he let go of her lips.

"Yeah, it's spring. Rubes, the festivals in the fall." He sighed, and pulled her back into the hug. "You just had a nightmare, alright?"

Safe in Dads arms, Ruby could almost believe his words. But her memories said otherwise: the hours spent studying, fighting the White Fang, battling Torchwick on top of an airship. It felt too real to be a dream. Far, far too real.

But…six months before the Vytal Festival? Before the tournament? Was she dreaming now? Was this all nothing more than the dying thoughts of a girl burning alive?

She pinched the back of her hand.

Nope, not dreaming.

Dad got up, leaving a hand on her shoulder. "How about you go get the others and grab some breakfast, alright?" He quickly flipped a now burnt pancake. "I've gotta finish up here." He smiled at her. She gave him one in return.

Whatever was going on, at least she was home.

Ruby's guess as to her sister's location was, surprisingly, accurate. As soon as she asked where Yang was, she got a knowing look and, "Guest room."

So a few minutes later, that's where she found herself, hand once again raised to knock on the door. Yet she couldn't do it. The wood leered over her, taunting her inability to knock on its surface. It should be simple, just… hit it, and her sister would eventually answer her knocks.

And there was the problem. Her sister, one of the most important people in her life, would answer the door. The issue was that Ruby wasn't certain how much she'd remember. The past/future/something six months had somehow never happened. Pyrrha was still alive, Penny was still alive, and…someone else who had a name that started with a P and was dead.

But Dad didn't remember that. Sure, he wasn't there, but the whole thing had been massively televised. Reporters had swarmed the coliseum every battle, and she herself had read several of the articles they had written. Yet he was ignorant of it, and claimed that the festival wasn't for another few months!

She knew what it sounded like. But that was, well, it was impossible, wasn't it? Ruby knew quite a bit about physics, but most of her knowledge revolved around how to wield Crescent Rose and improve it, not quantum mechanics. The few things she did know about time travel came from movies and comic books, and already those had proved inaccurate.

She didn't need a car, for example.

Ruby closed her eyes and sighed. Come on! You're a huntress! You can't be scared of your sister! With totally not shaking hands she knocked three times. She heard a muffled thud, a few quiet swears and then…

Nothing.

For several long minutes, the room was quieter than a grave. Ruby started tapping her foot, nerves slowly replaced by annoyance. She knocked again, much more forceful than before, and crossed her arms.

The floors creaked, and footsteps gradually grew closer to the door. There was a pause before Ruby could hear the door knob being turned, and then Yang's face slowly showed itself as she pulled open the door.

Any annoyance fled, replaced by sympathy when Ruby looked at her sister. She looked like crap; pale skin and shaking hands.

"Ruby?" She whispered. The girl in question nodded.

Yang threw the door open, and pulled her into a painful hug. "Ruby!" She cried, "You're okay! You're… okay, I'm okay, we're all…" The older girl slumped on to her, nearly causing Ruby to fall over.

"I was so scared." She told her, "No one knew where you were, but I couldn't look for you because I needed to find Blake and—Blake!" Yang got to her feet and grabbed both her shoulders. "Ruby, where's Blake? Did she make it home with us? Is she…?" Dead? The word hung in the air like a swarm of mosquitoes.

"I don't know," Ruby admitted, "I don't even know if—okay, she probably does since you remember, unless it's because your my sister or something or—"

"Ruby, what do you mean, 'remember'?" Yang interrupted, shutting Ruby up before she went too far.

"Um…" Her pointer fingers touched, "Well, I'm, uh, not really sure what's going on… but I just talked to Dad, and he said that the Vytal tournament isn't for six months, and then I realised that meant we've somehow never been to Beacon." She said, never pausing for a breath.

Yang mouth hung open, and she responded in the most appropriate way possible.

"What. The. Fu—"

"Yang! Language!" Dad yelled, walking towards the two. "Hey Rubes, you got a message. Thought I'd grab your scroll for you." With that, he tossed her scroll over.

"Anyway, I know you guys probably have plans for today, so I made some breakfast for you, and then I'll stay out of your hair." He ruffled Ruby's hair. She didn't even twitch.

"T-thanks Dad, we'll be right out." Yang said, her voice shaking. She offered him a weak smile. He noticed, and bent down to her level.

"Hey, don't worry about Beacon, alright?" He told her, grabbing her shoulder. "I know you'll do fine. Better than, you'll blow the socks right off everyone else."

"Um, thanks Dad." Yang said, "I'm going to…go get ready for our, uh, thing today. Yep, our wonderful, amazing thing." She elbowed Ruby, "Right Rubes?"

Distracted by her scroll, all Ruby did in response was nod.

"…See?"

Taiyang glared at Yang, but eventually sighed. "I'll see you at the table then." He started to walk away, but turned around. "Yang?"

"Yeah?"

"If there's anything I can help with, just ask, alright?"

Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, Yang replied, "N-no problem."

He smiled, and then left to the kitchen. They both heard clangs as he pulled out plates and cups.

Turning around to face Ruby, Yang said, "Okay, what were you talking about?" Ruby didn't answer.

"Ruby?" Yang grabbed her little sister's shoulder, concern overtaking curiosity. "Ruby, what is it?"

Wordlessly, she showed Yang her scroll. There was a message on it, a message she began to read out loud.

"Ruby Rose, what in the world have you done? Signed, Weiss Schnee."