Author's Note: Oh boy I've been wanting to get to this story for a while now. It all started with a single idea that immediately exploded into this beast of a project. Just so we're all on the same page, this alternate universe started off exactly the same as the canon universe, except there was a point in each of the protagonists' lives (not necessarily the same point) where things diverged. Make sense?

This is the Teen and Up rated version of the story. The Mature rated version has been posted over on Archive of Our Own.

This story was written during the interim between Volumes 5 and 6.

Chapter 1: Tarnished Gold

The scent of moss hung heavy in the air over the sleeping forest. The night was crisp and cold as it always was during the springtime in Mistral. Yang was perched up on a tree branch, overlooking a twisting road that cut through the woods around her. Even during the day the road saw little traffic. Now that night had come, there wasn't another soul to be seen. Yang was alone.

Almost an hour had passed since Yang had taken up her vigil on the tree branch, and boredom was starting to get the better of her. She hated waiting, even when she knew her patience would be rewarded. If something didn't happen soon she felt like she'd go crazy.

The minutes continued to drag on agonizingly slowly, but just when Yang couldn't take it anymore, a sound rose up in the distance. Yang perked up immediately. She strained her ears to listen. The sound was still far away, but it steadily grew louder until Yang could clearly hear the unmistakable roar of an engine.

A wicked smile flashed across Yang's lips. Her prey was almost there. He certainly hadn't wasted any time making his escape. He'd gotten such a big head start that he probably thought he was safe by now. Ordinarily, he would've been right, but unfortunately for him, Yang was anything but ordinary. While he'd been stuck winding his way through the hilly terrain of northern Mistral, Yang had been able to take a more direct route.

Yang took a moment to adjust the bracers she was wearing. There weren't many things that she could truly call her own, but the unassuming bits of dull-gray metal strapped to her forearms were hers and hers alone. She lovingly called them Ember and Blaze. It hadn't been easy for her to scrape together all the parts she'd needed to build them, but the effort had been more than worth it. After all, she wasn't just some common bandit. She deserved better weapons than the mass-produced pieces of junk any wannabe thug could buy in a general store.

Yang reached back for her thick braid of long, blonde hair and wound it loosely around her neck. Then she pulled the hood on her sleeveless vest up over her head. Her clothing's earthy colors were well suited for blending in with the foliage, but her golden hair was decidedly not. She didn't want to give herself away prematurely.

The sound of the engine was getting close now, and a moment later, a jet-black motorcycle appeared from around a bend in the road. Its rider was dressed all in black as well. From his helmet to his long jacket, he was a shadow in the night.

Yang gave the approaching motorcycle an appreciative look as it neared. She'd always wanted one herself, and it looked like tonight was going to be her lucky night. There was no sense in letting a perfectly good bike go to waste, and the rider speeding toward her wouldn't need his for much longer.

The motorcycle was only a few feet away from Yang now. A look of concentration filled her face. At the last possible moment, she let herself drop. She grabbed the tree branch she'd been perched on as she fell and used it to swing herself feet first toward the speeding motorcycle.

There was a flash of panic in the rider's eyes a split second before Yang's hefty boots slammed into his chest. Yang grunted in discomfort at the bone-jarring force of the collision, but her aura sprung to life, protecting her. There had probably been a safer way for her to dismount the rider, but none that she would've found so immensely satisfying.

The rider was flung from his bike. He tumbled through the air and slammed into a tree with tremendous force. There was a sharp crack as his helmet took the brunt of the impact. His motorcycle, absent anyone to guide it, swerved off course before tipping over and crashing into the ground. The sound of flapping wings and scampering paws briefly filled the night as the creatures of the forest fled from the sudden ruckus.

Yang let go of the tree branch and landed on her feet. She stalked toward the rider. Amazingly, he was still conscious. His aura, weak as it was, had managed to keep him safe from the worst effects of his impromptu flight. That suited Yang just fine. She wanted him to see this next part coming.

The rider managed to pick himself up. He wobbled on his feet for a moment before he pulled his helmet off and let it drop to the ground. When he'd gathered his wits about himself again, he looked up and saw Yang. "You…" he said. The color drained from his face.

Yang stopped a short distance away from the rider. "That's right, Kuro," she said, pushing her hood back. "Me."

"What do you want!?" Kuro demanded.

"You know what," Yang said. "Mion Village, remember? You betrayed us."

"I did nothing of the sort!" Kuro said. "Tell Raven that—!"

The words had barely left Kuro's mouth before Yang's expression twisted into a scowl. She lunged forward and let loose with a wild haymaker. Her fist easily plowed through what was left of Kuro's aura and sent him sprawling back down to the ground.

"You're not dealing with my mom!" Yang said, her eyes turning red. "You're dealing with me!"

Kuro pushed himself back to his feet, dripping blood from a fresh gash on his forehead. Yang caught the glint of something metallic in his hand an instant before he leveled a small pistol at her.

Kuro fired. Yang felt the heat of the bullet as it glanced off her aura. Fortunately for her, Kuro's tiny pistol didn't pack much of a punch. It was easily concealed, which was probably why he carried it, but it was far too weak to do any significant damage to someone with a real aura like Yang.

Kuro desperately squeezed his pistol's trigger a few more times. Yang lifted her arm to block, and the shots ricocheted off of her bracer. She bounded forward, furious that Kuro would dare attack her, and kicked him savagely in his chest.

Yang heard the sound of Kuro's ribs snapping as her kick knocked him off his feet again. He collapsed into a heap on the forest floor. His gun slipped loose from his hand. He didn't make a move to retrieve it.

Yang glared at the man lying at her feet with an ugly expression. Her hair began to glow, more from the raw emotions burning inside of her rather than any damage Kuro had done. Yang clenched her fists. Blades made from solidified yellow Dust shot out of her bracers.

"Three of my tribe are rotting in jail because of you," Yang said to Kuro. "You know what happens next."

"Wait…please…" Kuro wheezed. "I swear it wasn't me…."

Yang pulled her fist back, ready to plunge her blade into Kuro's chest.

"Please…" Kuro begged.

At the last moment, Yang hesitated. She knew what Kuro had done. She knew what he deserved. But he looked so pathetic lying there, broken and bloodied on the ground. Yang couldn't imagine finding any satisfaction in finishing him off.

Yang's eyes turned lilac again, and her hair's glow subsided. For a long moment the only sounds that filled the forest were Kuro's labored breaths and the low rumbling of his overturned motorcycle as its engine idled.

Eventually, Yang lowered her fist. She asked, "If it wasn't you, then how did the cops find us?"

"I…I was followed," Kuro said.

"Go on," Yang said.

"The police heard about the Dust I was selling," Kuro said. "I don't know how. Maybe they flipped one of my suppliers. The point is, they followed me, and when they saw I was selling to the Branwen Tribe…you know the rest."

"That's it?" Yang asked. "We got busted because you were too stupid to notice that you were being followed?"

"Yes…" Kuro said.

"How did you get away?" Yang asked.

"The cops didn't really care about me once they realized your tribe was there," Kuro said. "I escaped in the commotion."

Yang frowned. Kuro hadn't made much of a case for his life in her eyes. "That's all you have to say for yourself?" she asked.

"I can make it up to you!" Kuro said. "Please. Don't kill me."

Yang sighed heavily. She knew exactly what her mom would want her to do in this situation. Kuro's incompetence had cost the Tribe, and Raven wasn't one to suffer fools. However, Yang was long past believing that her mom was always right. She had never seen a man as thoroughly beaten as Kuro was now. He looked so pathetic that killing him seemed pointless.

Yang took a step back. "Get out of here," she said.

Kuro looked shocked beyond words. He didn't move.

"Go!" Yang shouted. "Before I change my mind!"

Kuro nodded. He slowly got to his feet, wincing painfully all the way up, but he managed. Then he started limping in the direction of his motorcycle.

"And if you have any sense at all, never show your face in Mistral again!" Yang shouted after him.

Yang turned away. The blades protruding from her bracers hung limply with her arms by her sides. She was not happy. Tonight she'd been expecting to extract some well-deserved revenge, but instead she'd come away empty handed. She wasn't even going to get a motorcycle out of the deal. And to top it all off, she was going to have to lie to her mom about what had happened. Thinking about it made her guts churn, but lying was a better alternative than letting Raven learn the truth.

Suddenly, a single gunshot rang out, splitting the night in two. Yang spun around, reflexively raising her bladed fists. Her eyes locked onto Kuro, but he hadn't been the one who had fired.

Kuro was several feet away from Yang now with his back to her. He was standing perfectly still, like he'd been frozen in time, but then his legs buckled beneath him. He collapsed to the ground for the final time.

Yang's eyes frantically darted around, searching the forest for whoever had fired the fatal shot. Yang needn't have bothered. A woman stepped out from behind a tree, a woman that Yang recognized. She was dressed similarly to Yang and wielding twin guns with crescent-shaped blades attached to them.

"Vernal," Yang growled. Her lips peeled back in a sneer. Without a second thought, she charged toward her tribesmate, Ember and Blaze at the ready.

Yang closed the distance in a heartbeat and slashed at Vernal. However, Vernal caught Yang's blades with her own. Their weapons locked together. Vernal visibly struggled as Yang's strength pressed in against her, but she managed to hold her ground.

"What did you do!?" Yang demanded to know.

"What you should have done five minutes ago!" Vernal said.

"My mom's going to rip your head off when she finds out you followed me!" Yang shouted.

"Hardly," Vernal scoffed. "Raven was the one who sent me after you in the first place!"

Vernal's words hit Yang harder than any punch. She immediately stopped fighting with Vernal's blades and took a step back. "Mom sent you?" she asked.

"That's right," Vernal said, not bothering to disguise her smug satisfaction.

Yang's blades retracted back into her bracers. Her lips pressed together as a sense of dread filled her.

Suddenly, the idling motorcycle engine sputtered loudly, drawing Yang's attention. The engine made a few choking sounds, then died completely. Yang hadn't noticed before, but a rock had punctured the bike's gas tank when it had fallen. Even in the gloom of the night, Yang could see the wetted grass where the fuel had leaked out.

"Hmph," Vernal said. "I bet you were planning on taking that bike. Too bad for you."

Yang hardly even heard Vernal's taunt, and surprisingly, she couldn't bring herself to be disappointed that the motorcycle was effectively worthless now. Her eyes trailed down to where Kuro's lifeless body lay. She and her tribe survived by taking things that weren't there's. It was exactly what Yang had intended to do tonight, but in hindsight, stealing from a dead man seemed like a step too far.

"I think we're done here," Vernal said. "Raven told me to bring you back to camp as soon as Kuro was dealt with."

"Fine," Yang said weakly. "Let's go back."

Yang used to think that her mom was the most awesome person in the world. Some of Yang's most cherished memories were of when she'd been a little girl, sitting on the furs in Raven's tent and listening to her mom recount tales of her adventures in exotic lands far beyond the borders of Mistral. Yang was standing in that very same tent now. Little had changed about it over the years, but everything was different. Tonight more than ever, the days of Yang's childhood felt very far away.

Raven was sitting at a small table in the middle of her tent. A single lamp stood on the table, and the long shadows cast by its light were dancing across Raven's face. Raven was methodically dragging a whetstone across the cutting edge of her sword. The scraping sound it was making stood in place of conversation; Raven hadn't uttered so much as a word since she'd summoned Yang.

Several minutes passed before Raven finally laid down her whetstone. She carefully returned her sword to its weighty scabbard and set it on the table. Then she stood and scrutinized Yang.

Yang crossed her arms. She could see the look of disdain on Raven's face. It was subtle, but Yang recognized it for what it was. No doubt Raven was trying to use her silence to make Yang sweat. Unfortunately for her, that kind of tactic hadn't worked on Yang since she'd been a teenager.

Eventually, Raven said, "You were sent to kill Kuro. You didn't. Tell me what happened."

"It sounds like you already know," Yang said.

"That doesn't matter," Raven said. "I need to hear it from your own mouth."

"Kuro's dead," Yang said. "You got what you wanted. Who cares how."

"I care," Raven said. "I didn't raise you to be weak, Yang."

Yang uncrossed her arms. "I am not weak," she said.

"Are you sure about that?" Raven asked. "Then why did Vernal have to do your job for you?"

Yang knew Raven was trying to bait her. She did her best to not fall for it, but it wasn't easy. She could feel the anger welling up in her.

"Honestly," Raven said. "Some days I fear there's too much of your father in you."

"Don't you dare say that!" Yang shouted. "If he was here—!"

"He's not here!" Raven shot back. "He's never been here! He never will be here!"

Yang's hands balled into fists as her temper got the better of her. She stomped toward Raven with every intention of giving her what she had coming, but the twinkle in Raven's eye made Yang stop in her tracks.

Yang bit back her rage. As much as she wanted to punch Raven right in the face, she knew better. She'd only actually fought her mom once. It'd been the toughest fight of her life. Half the camp had been in ruins before it had ended, but when the dust had settled, it was clear to Yang that she'd never stood a chance of winning.

"The world is cruel, Yang," Raven said. "You have to be crueler if you want to survive."

"Is that why you sent me out to go murder someone?" Yang asked.

"That is precisely why," Raven said. "I want what's best for you. Someday you'll appreciate that."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Yang muttered. She turned around and started walking away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Raven asked.

"Somewhere that's not here!" Yang said over her shoulder.

"You stop right there!" Raven shouted.

Yang did stop. But she didn't look back.

"Are you really going to turn your back on me? After everything I've done for you?" Raven asked. "I raised you. I taught you how to fight. I even gave you a gift more incredible than most people could imagine."

"Don't pretend it was a gift," Yang said. Her eyes crept back toward Raven. "You only did it because you thought it'd made me useful to you."

Raven was actually taken aback. Had the circumstances been better, Yang might have been impressed with herself.

"That's all that really matters, right?" Yang asked. "That I'm useful to you?"

"What matters is that you're my daughter, Yang," Raven said.

Yang turned away again. "We both know who your real daughter is these days," she said. Then, without another word, she left.

Outside Raven's tent, Yang saw Vernal lurking around, much to her great displeasure. No doubt Vernal had been trying to eavesdrop on Yang and Raven's conversation. Yang knew that trying to escape Vernal would be pointless, so she started walking toward her.

When Yang got close, Vernal opened her mouth to speak, but Yang wasn't even remotely in the mood to hear whatever she had to say. Yang cocked back her fist and socked Vernal hard across the jaw, all without breaking her stride.

Yang didn't bother to wait and see what kind of damage her punch had done. She just walked away.

It didn't take Yang long to reach the camp's outer wall, a haphazard collection of tall, wooden posts fashioned from tree trunks. Yang scrambled up the nearest one and stood on top of it. She looked out at the forest around her. Here, out from under the canopy of trees, the broken moon was shining brightly. It bathed the forest in its ghostly light, giving the scene an eerie quality.

Yang sighed heavily and sat herself down on the wooden post. She had to admit that Raven had probably been right about how to deal with Kuro, but if that was true then why did it feel so wrong? Things had been so much simpler when Yang had been a kid. The older she got, the less she found herself agreeing with her mom's way of looking at things. Maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad thing, but Raven wasn't just Yang's mom, she was the bandit queen of her tribe. Going against her wishes was dangerous.

Things hadn't truly gotten bad between Yang and her mom, at least not in Yang's estimation, until Raven had inducted Vernal into the tribe. Yang still cursed the day that Vernal had wandered into the Branwen camp. Back then Vernal had been cold, hungry, scared, and helpless. But Raven had taken it upon herself to personally train Vernal. Now Vernal was everything that Raven wanted in a daughter, and the whole tribe knew it. Yang had tried to compete, but she just couldn't. Vernal had a vicious edge that Yang simply lacked.

Yang had felt increasingly useless to her mom as the years had rolled on. Maybe that was why their relationship kept getting worse. Tonight had been especially bad if Raven mentioning Yang's dad was anything to go by. Raven only ever talked about him when she really wanted to hurt Yang.

Yang reached into her pocket and pulled out a red bandanna. She'd found it years ago in a chest that Raven kept old mementos in. It had a symbol on it, two stylized shapes that looked like the joined halves of a heart. Yang knew it had belonged to her dad. To this day it was her only connection to him. She'd never met him, and the only thing she really knew about him was his name: Taiyang Xiao Long.

Even though it was dangerous, Yang had kept her dad's old bandanna. She'd also kept the fact that she had it a secret. She couldn't make herself believe that he really was the weak, cowardly man that Raven seemed to think he was. He just couldn't have been. But Yang supposed she would never really know for certain.

Yang glanced back over her shoulder at the Branwen camp. It was always a little different each time the tribe moved it to a new location, but it had still been Yang's home for all twenty-three years of her life. However, despite the camp's familiarity, Yang wasn't convinced that it really was her home anymore. She felt increasingly like a stranger with each passing day. Raven was the only real family she had. Everyone else in the Tribe held her at arm's length. She was Raven's daughter, all evidence to the contrary, and that set her apart.

Now that Kuro was dealt with, the Tribe would break camp tomorrow. It wouldn't be a good idea to stick around now that the authorities had caught their scent. They would pack up and move somewhere else like they had many times before, and Yang would go with them.

Yang turned away from the camp. The forest before her didn't look like much, but beyond it lay the rest of Remnant. It occurred to her that endless possibilities were staring her in the face. All she had to do to seize them was to leave behind everything she'd ever known.

Yang stood. She looked down at the bandanna in her hand. She'd long since given up on ever finding her dad—Raven had broken her of that dream—but he was only one of literally millions of people. Was it really so hard to believe that there could be someone else who could fill the void that had been gnawing at her? There had to be another place in the world where she could belong.

Yang's resolve hardened. She bent down and tied her dad's bandanna on her left leg just below her knee. Then, without looking back, she stepped forward off the wall and slipped silently out of the camp. She fell, but her feet never touched the ground. She went into the night above the leafy treetops, ready to see what was out there waiting for her.

Author's Note: Yes, yes, I know gold doesn't tarnish, but how could I pass up such, ahem, colorful language. Although now that I think about it, gold can tarnish, but only if it's really impure. Hmm. I think I'll take credit for that subtle metaphor that I only just now thought of.

Yang's weapons in this universe are similar to katars, or maybe punch daggers, except they're mounted on bracers instead of handheld. Unlike Ember Celica, Ember and Blaze aren't also guns, but they may still have a surprise or two that they haven't revealed yet. Time will tell.

In case you missed it in the text of this chapter, Yang is twenty-three here. That isn't me aging her up per se. This story simply takes place about six years after when canon RWBY started. That isn't an arbitrary number either. There is a method to my madness. Perhaps.

If you really, really like the work that I do, I've set up a ko-fi page where you can make a small donation. You can find it by either clicking the button at the top of my tumblr or going to ko-fi dot com slash electronicyarn. Either way, I always welcome constructive criticism. Please feel free to leave a review or favorite and/or follow this story. You can also find me on tumblr (electronicyarn) if you want to send me a message or be notified of updates.