This takes place right after everyone has been launched off the cliff. Up until this point, nothing has changed. They've just been launched into the air while Ozpin uses his coffee cup to hide his boner (not really, but… maybe).

CHAPTER ONE

A Story Will Be Told

Ruby hit the ground, snapped her head up, and took off.

Oh, this was bad, this was really bad. She had to find Yang, she had to find Yang, she had to find – "Yang?" she called, knowing she sounded like a calf lowing for its mother. "Yaaaaaang?"

Something shattered, far away, and Ruby swerved. It was usually a good bet that to find Yang, you simply had to follow the sound of massive objects shattering into a million pieces, regardless of age, weight or previous structural integrity. What explosives were to everything, Yang was to... everything else. And then sometimes those same things. That the explosives...What had she been thinking?

What if she didn't find her? What if someone else found her first? There was always Jaune. He was nice. And funny! But that little voice at the back of her head – the one that sounded like Qrow if Qrow ever lost that final spark of darkling humour – kept whispering to her: weak…weak…weak…

What about Blake? So mysterious, so calm. Tough, too, if the way she dealt with that horrible pale girl was any indication. On the other hand… the part of Ruby that was a fifteen-year-old girl was trying to imagine holding a conversation with her and, well, failing. And this time it wasn't even her own social anxiety! This time it was Blake's social – not-social-ness.

Who else was there? There was Jaune… Blake…Yang…and…

"Oh noooo…."

Through the bushes Ruby could see a flash of white, like untouched snow, like unmarked paper, like the wind-bleached bones of a corpse. There was only one thing it could mean: nobody else had worn pure white to go tramping through the forest.

In a moment the future unfolded before Ruby's eyes. She would run into Weiss. Her silver eyes would meet Weiss' cold blue ones. Weiss would be her usual dismissive self, and that usual dismissive self would become Ruby's partner. They would finish this trial and then Weiss would use her name and her bossiness to be made the leader of whatever team they were on. For four years Weiss would reign supreme, an unchallenged, unchallengable tyrant… and then they would graduate and the only escape for Ruby would be found in the bottom of a Beowolf's stomach.

Forever. An eternity of endless coldness, her voice like a howling winter's gale ringing in Ruby's ears, always telling her Not good enoooooouuuuugggghhhh….

Ruby reached for her Semblance and she fled. She bolted right past Weiss, head down so that she didn't make eye contact. She thought she heard a startled 'Hey!' but she didn't stop to find out. She ran from the future, zigzagging like a scared hare, leaping around trees and vaulting fallen logs, until finally, finally, she ran out of breath.

Satisfied that the awful bossy girl had been left behind, Ruby paused to listen, and at the edge of her hearing, she heard an explosion.

Ruby started running again. She liked to think she learned from her mistakes, and she didn't intend to be caught out by anyone else. Yang was going to be her partner if Ruby had to kill every other student in her path to reach her.

Without making eye contact, of course.

Blake Belladonna walked through the forest. Everything was quiet and motionless, but her nerves were still prickling.

Something was watching her.

Only her eyes gave away her tension: they were skating from side to side, trying to pick up anything that did not belong in the lush greenery.

Something rustled to the right, and Blake didn't bother to take a moment to think. It could be a student, but if it wasn't…She leaped into the air, straight from a standing position, and landed among the branches of the tree above her. Hidden by the leaves, close to the trunk, she settled in to wait.

A boy walked under her tree. He moved smoothly and quickly, and his green coat blended well with the dappled light of the forest. A streak of pink in his hair shone brightly as he passed through a patch of sunlight, then faded into a lighter streak of darkness as he stepped back into shadows.

Blake Belladonna watched him go and began to consider her options. She had been willing to leave it to chance, but apparently chance was off drinking in a bar somewhere. Partner selection was now her choice, which made it her problem. A few months ago she would have thought of it as her responsibility, but look where that dutiful attitude had gotten her... No. This was a problem: She could show herself to this boy, but something inside her was rebelling. She had ignored her instincts for too long. Insanity was doing the same thing and expecting different results, wasn't it?

She wanted a different result. She wanted it so terribly, terribly much.

The sound of gunfire rang out, loud and clear, and Blake almost fell out of her tree. While she had pondered the boy, he had disappeared from her eyeshot. She leaped to the next tree over, then scampered around to the other side of the trunk, so that she could see between the leaves. It looked out onto a clearing, where the pink-haired boy had engaged a King Taijitu in one-on-one combat.

Foolish, Blake thought dispassionately. Foolish and reckless and headstrong. Why did you have to disturb it? Why not simply go around it? Typical, arrogant, sword-wielding fool. She turned to disappear back into the forest, but an alarmed cry rang out behind her, and she swung around once more.

He'd been disarmed. Two green blades – no, two green guns with blades attached, almost an afterthought – flew through the air and hit the ground. He watched them go and a strange look of pain twisted his face. She waited for him to turn after him, but he turned back to the problem at hand, which was currently looming over him, a black-and-white spectre of destruction, hissing the death knell for the pool fool who had stumbled into its killing ground.

Blake started to leap out of the tree to defend him, but as she hit the ground and rolled to her feet, the boy suddenly straightened and flung his hand up. The black head lunged at him, then slammed to a halt, as did Blake, her eyes wide with astonishment.

Frozen in place, Blake watched, fascinated, as boy and Grimm stood wavering. The boy had the beast's fangs pressed against his hands, and he was holding his ground. Then she flinched as the boy suddenly exploded into action. He snapped the fang off and slammed it into the beast's eye in one fluid movement. The King Taijitu recoiled, hissing fiercely, and the boy stepped up with an open-palm strike that destroyed the head entirely.

The explosion brought her to her senses. Backing out of view, she watched him charge the white head. That settled her mind. With a final look, Blake turned and disappeared into the shadows, away from the boy, leaving him to the battle he clearly craved.

She had had enough of senseless bloodshed for one lifetime. Blake Belladonna kept walking, determined to find a new path. It would be one without hot-headed warriors. It would be one surrounded by people that she trusted. Blake Belladonna's path was going to be a righteous one, and this time, she was going to get it right.

"Helloooo?" Yang called impatiently, striding through the forest. "Is anyone out there? Hellooo! Getting bored here!" Something rustled behind her and she brightened. "Is someone there?"

"Ruby is that you?" She watched the darkness lengthen and bobbed her head. "Nope." She lunged to the side as an Ursa charged her, then rolled again as its partner emerged from the opposite side of the clearing. One charged her and she punched it away, then kicked the other one, using Ember Celica to send it flying.

"You guys wouldn't happen to have seen a girl in a red hood, would you?" Though they were still alive – or whatever – so probably not. Yang would have liked to think that Ruby would be sensible enough to steer clear of two Grimm this size, but she also would have liked a fluffy orange kitten, a motorbike that wasn't an imported piece of crap, and Spruce Willis as her poolboy. Oh, and a pool! "You could just say no," she added, shaken from her daydreams by the Ursa roaring at her.

The thing clawed wildly at her. She dodged out of the way and came to her feet, laughing. Dad had been right. If you knew what you were doing Grimm weren't hard. Dangerous? Naturally. Fun? Duh! But not hard.

She laughed out loud again at the sheer exhilaration of it all. Her blood was pumping through her heart like fire. The world was suddenly crystal clear, and beautiful with it. "Geez, you couldn't hit the broad side of a bar–"

A flash of gold, drifting past her eyes. A glimpse of sunlight, of suns not risen, of suns that had set long ago. Treasure, spun from her blood, more precious to her than life itself.

"You – you MONSTERS!"

She wasn't sure what happened next. All she knew is that it involved violence. Lots of violence. It always did, when her precious, precious hair was damaged. When she came to, the Ursae were dead.

Yang bent down, picked up the hair, and tenderly tucked it into her pocket. She'd be sure to give it a decent burial when she found somewhere nice. Somewhere with flowers. Somewhere with sunlight. Somewhere where it could rest in peace, away from this cruel and uncaring world.

Something else growled behind her, and she spun, brushing away a single diamond tear. That sounded like more Ursa. With blood thrumming in her veins, and vengeance in her heart, Yang Xiao Long went hunting through the forest.

Weiss stared after the crowd of red rose petals in considerable confusion.

Was that that spastic hooded girl? What was going on? How could she not have seen Weiss?

Wait…

Did she just… ditch Weiss?

Weiss bit her lip furiously, then hastily made herself stop. Biting your lip roughened it. Grinding your teeth wore them down. Clenching your fingers was alright: if anyone saw, you just segued into some finger strengthening exercises. They'd think you were coarse, but at least not ill-tempered. If you were very lucky they'd admire your keenness for your training.

Weiss squared her shoulders. She didn't want to be that Ruby girl's partner anyway. She clearly wasn't one of the types of people that Weiss Schnee of the Schnee Dust Company should be associating with. There was something fishy in a fifteen-year-old getting into Beacon, anyway. The horrid little lowlife had probably gotten in because she knew someone, or something similar. It was hard to imagine her with any sort of important connection, but if she came from a family of Hunters, then possibly one of her relatives had gotten lucky and strayed across the path of someone who actually meant something.

Fuming, she turned and stalked off, going in the opposite direction than the one the hooded girl had gone. She was not going to trail behind her like some limp little duckling. She was going to forge her own path. She was going to find someone worthy of her.

The familiar ache started in her gut, and she thrust it down fiercely. This was completely different, and that girl was not Winter. That girl would never be Winter. It was different. It was.

Weiss was ready for this. She knew she was. She just needed a strong team. She needed the best. She was the best, and like called to like. Weiss was ready, and nobody was going to stand in her way.

Ren wanted to catch his breath once the King Taijitu was dead, but he knew he had seen someone else in the clearing with him. Once he was certain that the last few spasms were just the Grimm's brain (or equivalent – Ren was up to date on the current Grimm literature btu it was hard to perform a clinical autopsy on a pile of ash) accepting it was dead, he turned and jogged to the edge of the clearing.

His breath thudding painfully in his throat, he knelt on the ground. There was no blood, but were those footprints? Maybe. He had learned to track so long ago, when he was so young, that sometimes it was hard to be sure whether he was seeing things.

That, though, that scuff; a boot heel, wasn't it? A small discolouration on the moss, from the sole, and then a deeper indent from a heeled shoe. Heels, so a girl. There had been a girl here.

Why hadn't she stayed? Why hadn't she helped?

Ren rose to his feet and shook his head in irritation. It was really poor form. A dick-move, as Nora might say. You didn't leave someone to fight all on their own. You didn't have to jump into the middle of a battle, but you didn't abandon anyone. The first rule, in Lie Ren's mind: no person left behind.

He took a deep breath to regain his serenity, and decided to take advantage of his Semblance. Nora could find him – Nora almost certainly would find him – but he wasn't really in the mood to wait for her and he certainly wasn't up to fighting another Grimm. He closed his eyes, and let his Aura ripple over his skin like cool water. It was all in his head, he knew; his Aura could be active and he'd still be sweating bullets if it got too hot.

Ren opened his eyes again. He preferred not to see, when he activated his Semblance. The world always seemed subtly different. It was difficult for him to put his finger on, but it was there, and if he had his eyes open, then the difference would drag at his attention, distracting him from what was important.

Ren scooped up his weapons and started out for these alleged ruins.

It really was a beautiful day.

And then something struck him in the side like a battering ram.

Pyrrha stepped cautiously around the tree and paused to scope out the clearing.

Reckless. Reckless, and foolish, and arrogant. Why on earth had she done that? It was so like her. She would just charge in head first and ruin everything. Jaune had been so nice to her, and now he'd think she was a – a – an idiot! He would have been fine. He was probably like that blonde girl, he had probably been having the time of his life and then Pyrrha had just waltzed in and like a bull in a china shop she had ruined everything.

No, she told herself firmly. He had called out to thank her. He had appreciated the gesture. It would be fine, he'd understand. He was so nice! He wouldn't mind. It wasn't a reflection on his skills, of course, she'd have to explain that, but it was just her mistake. He seemed like the sort of person who'd understand that people made mistakes, surely? Surely.

She decided it was safe to step out, and did so. A ray of sunlight illuminated her as she did so, a beautiful sleekness of skin, armour and hair that moved like a hunting beast. She was being cautious, without her spear, her round shield already on her arm in case anything surprised her.

The forest was terribly still. There had probably been birds in the trees before Pyrrha had destroyed them. In the far off distance she could hear explosions, shifting and dancing every time the wind changed.

Despite herself, Pyrrha smiled. She had been at Beacon for all of a day, and already she had met two people who seemed to like her for herself. Jaune was delightful, and Weiss seemed very pleasant. Admittedly, she had opened the conversation by complimenting Pyrrha on her performance in the last Mystral Tournament – and had seemed terribly offended when Jaune hadn't recognised her – but she had started the conversation.

Even if she had only wanted to be Pyrrha's partner, and not her friend...

Stop it, Pyrrha told herself firmly. You are Pyrrha Nikos. You can do this. This is your chance to make friends. This will be a new start for you. The world is full of promise, and you will make the most of it. Things will be different, now. They will be better.

This could be the best decision she had ever made, coming here.

Something growled from the edge of her hearing, and she sped up ever so slightly.

That was assuming that throwing her spear away didn't prove to be the worst decision she had ever made.

As she vaulted a fallen tree, passing into the pool of sunlight its demise had left, something rustled. Pyrrha hit the ground, rolled and came up with her shield held in front of her, eyes ranging from side to side in case it was a typical Beowulf flanking attack.

She saw what was facing her, and Pyrrha Nikos' heart dropped as if it had been launched off the cliff.

Jaune wriggled helplessly, trying to get his hands around to behind his head. This was not a good omen. This was embarrassing, and it was certainly not how Jaune had imagined his time at Beacon beginning.

Though arguably, his time at Beacon had begun by, well, upchucking into a rubbish bin. Maybe that had been the omen he should have paid attention to.

He braced his legs, got a good grip with both hands, and pushed, putting all the strength in his legs and back into it as well as his arms. His body weight was taken off the javelin, just for an instant, and he managed to tug it free of the bark.

On cue, he fell to the ground, landing hard enough to add a new layer of bruises to his increasing collection.

For a moment he lay still, rotating his feet to check he still could. Then, winded, he stumbled to his feet. After a second he picked up the javelin. It would be rude to leave Pyrrha's stuff lying around the forest. Besides, if he failed, as he almost certainly would, maybe he could sell it online, make some money to catch an airship home...

He snorted at himself. Was that how a life of crime began? Forge your records to get into a world-class combat school, then start robbing people left right and centre? It had been a joke, mostly.

He really didn't have any fare for a ride home, unless he called his parents and asked for some.

The idea made Jaune square his shoulders, take a deep breath, and stride off into the forest, the javelin of a peerless warrior clutched in his fist.

Nora couldn't brake like Ren could, but she, like most people over the age of twelve, was far tougher than her partner, and could simply land. She hit the ground, bounced like a stone across the surface of a pond, and began to skip through the forest at a breakneck pace.

She did need to find Ren. That was indisputable. She and Ren were together. That was how things were. That was how things had to be. Ren and Nora, Nora and Ren. Renora. Nen. Ren was her partner, now and forever.

"Nen, nen, nen," she hummed tunelessly, still skipping. Maybe the Grimm would come and find her. That would be fun, and then Ren could track her through the sound of the explosions because there was no way Ren was going to use the sloth call. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know what sloths sounded like. He probably didn't know what they looked like.

Nora sped up, humming louder. "Sloth, sloth, slothy sloth sloth," she added, watching the shadows shift from the corner of her eye. Beowolves. Typical. Just because they couldn't make noise and pay attention to things at the same time, they assumed that humans couldn't either.

She waited a few moments, judging her strikes, and then swung Magnhild, backhanded, catching the first Beowolf just as it lunged for her. She continued the swing, pivoting in a wide circle, sending three more crashing into each other like airborne dominoes. Then she planted Magnhild, triggered an explosion, and rode her hammer over their heads and out of the closing circle.

They turned to follow her, but she was ready for them. Her hammer shifted and a single grenade ended the entire pack before they even realised that she had stopped running.

Nora watched the ash float in the wind, and her habitual smile widened. Then it fell. Ren was meant to be able to track her through the explosions. She had tried too hard. This is what she got for being a responsible Huntress. Well, she wouldn't make that mistake again.

Nora, her grenade-launcher clutched in her hand, began to skip through the forest again, humming to herself, landing on every dead stick she could see. She needed more Grimm. She needed lots more Grimm.

The forest seemed distressingly empty though. Nora was all alone. Nora didn't like being all alone. She felt her smile slip, and reapplied it, her eyes bright with determination. It was an illusion. She hadn't been alone since – well, for a very long time. Loneliness wasn't real, it was just a, what had that guy said once? A 'moral weakness'? No, a 'failure of character'? Something like that. It was just her mind, playing tricks on her. She wasn't really alone, she just wasn't trying hard enough. Ren was here, and she would find him, if she had to burn the forest to the ground to do so.

Sometimes Nora worried that wanton destruction was all she was. At other times, she embraced it.

But it didn't matter what she was, because she could hide in Ren's shadow like a creature under a rock, and he would be the only one to ever see her. And he had never seemed to mind what he saw. She needed Ren. She needed him to see her. His eyes were all that reached her, these days, and she needed them to reach her now.

Nora's smile was still in place, but her eyes told a very different story. That was fine, of course; so few people looked past the smile.

A bush rustled, and Nora stopped and reformed Manghildr into a hammer. This area of the forest wasn't ideal for a fight: the trees were too close together but that, like loneliness, was an intangible problem, as trees had a tendency not to survive Nora's presence in their area for a very long time.

Nora braced herself, raised her hammer, and then dropped it once more as the smile fled from her face.

Things were not turning out well.