DISCLAIMER – I do not own RWBY

Raziel grimaced and set down his book.

In the first few chapters, he had first come across the mention of the Kingdoms and their history. He had raised his eyebrows; it was certainly a colorful story. When he came across the talks of technology that surpassed even the most advanced Dwarven machines, his eyebrows had risen into his hairline. Then, he read about Grimm, Dust, Huntsmen, Semblances, and how literally every single huntsman on the face of the continent had "Aura", soul magic that protected them from damage. At this point, Raziel's eyebrows had seceded his face and had begun their own nation-state.

A hand reached up to grasp his forehead, and he muttered curses under his breath.

When he had found himself dead and resurrected in the infirmary, he figured the situation to be non-optimal, but still manageable. He had been in similar situations; it would be a simple matter to heal and then escape. But this? This was more than sub-optimal; this was simply non-optimal.

Raziel's eyes shifted to the healer, or "nurse", sitting at the far corner of the room. No doubt she was one of these Huntsmen, and likely trained better than the students here, which presented another grave worry.

The Students.

The blonde girl, Yang Xiao Long, was a first-year student, and she had killed him. If she had that strength and speed as a first-year student, then he would stand almost no chance in direct combat against the teachers of upperclassmen. He would have to resort to trickery and cheating if he wanted to escape this place.

The first order of business was to establish a fake backstory, something vague and not easily verifiable. According to what he had read about the kingdoms, Vauco would be the optimal choice. He could claim that he was a denizen of the Vauco wastelands, an outlander, or some form of a recluse.

The truth would most probably doom him.

The abilities and strength of the native fighters here were impressive for even the more powerful spell-swords and sorcerers, but he would nonetheless have a difficult time playing off his many abilities as Semblances. And if they discovered that he was a demon? Well, it stood obvious that he would probably not be treated favorably.

Raziel gritted his teeth. He had already used one of his demonic powers, something that would no doubt be attributed as a Semblance, but regardless, forced him to play the role of a fire-based fighter.

While adept at such, his specialty was in deception and infiltration. He oftentimes couldn't face enemies head-on, and instead relied on distractions and manipulations to achieve victory. This would prove to be a major determent to his abilities.

The wooden doors sounded.

The nurse rose from her station and pulled open the large door.

A professional-looking woman stood with a riding crop behind her back, a teacher he'd assume, facing the nurse.

"Ms. Goodwitch. How may I help you?"

The woman spoke crisply, "I have been instructed to retrieve Mr. Marsalis, the headmaster wishes to speak to him. Is he fit to walk?"

The nurse nodded. "He should be fine as long as he avoids strenuous activity."

Raziel sighed internally.

He'd expected such but was disappointed with the time frame given to him. Assuming the walk to the headmaster's office would take only a few minutes, it didn't give him much time to complete his false story.

Sitting up, he swung his legs off the bed and moved slowly towards the doors. Goodwitch's eyes were a light green, sidled with thin ovular glasses that reflected sharply off the infirmary lights. Her pupils tracked his movement with unerring precision and gleamed with a stern intelligence and the promise of pain upon retaliation.

"Dangerous," Raziel thought to himself. "Very dangerous."

"Dangerous," Glynda thought to herself. "Very dangerous."

She glanced at the man who was walking beside her.

Raziel was a tall, thin, red-skinned man, with lithe, bony horns running alongside his hair from his forehead. He had a rough face, with harsh scars adorning his cheeks, and eyes that spoke of cunning mischief.

No matter how hard she tried, Glynda couldn't relate this cool, calm visage to the image of the dying man. He had been practically splattered across the hallway, and covered in blood. Yet here he stood beside her, looking no worse for wear.

No matter the circumstance, however, she made it a point to remember that he had essentially broken into the school and held a student at knifepoint.

"What is he? And what does he want?"

They continued down the halls in silence, her heels clicking on the smooth stone floor.

"This is an interesting weapon. It makes quite the image, no?"

Turning sharply, she saw the Faunus holding her riding crop, examining it closely.

"Can't say it seems particularly effective-"

Holding out her palm, she willed the crop to return to her. The crop flew forward and nestled itself into her hand.

As soon as her weapon was returned, she pointed at the intruder and flicked upwards. With the sound of creaking wood, the man slammed into the wall, restrained against it.

"Allow me to inform you of your situation, Mr. Marsalis," Glynda intoned calmly, as Raziel struggled against the invisible force. "You are allowed to walk free at the current moment because of your injuries. If you weren't, I would have you jailed for threatening my student."

Leveling her eyes into his, she spoke slowly. "Let me be frank, should you attempt such a thing again, I will personally launch you into the Emerald Forest."

Dropping him, she turned and began walking again.

Soon, she heard the sounds of his footsteps resume, as silence reigned once more.

The intruder's eyes glanced back at her, then back to Ozpin, and sat down across from the headmaster.

Stepping forward, Glynda took her place next to the headmaster and began speaking.

"Headmaster, this is Mr. Marsalis; he's been deemed healthy by the medical staff."

Ozpin hummed. "Quite miraculous. How do you do, Mr. Marsalis? I've been informed that you were in quite the state when you arrived here."

The man was silent, eyes darting between Ozpin's cane and smiling face. After a few moments of deliberation, he spoke, words careful and measured.

"What did you do?"

Ozpin's eyebrows furrowed, and he spoke curiously. "Do? I'm afraid I don't follow."

Raziel studied Ozpin's form further, and Ozpin raised an eyebrow questioningly. Glynda watched as the man trailed the headmaster's forum, halting as he made contact with his eyes.

"You smell like damnation." said Raziel, leaning forward, placing clasped hands on the table. "Reek of it, in fact."

He smiled, and leaned back again, hands drumming against the polished wood.

"So, I'll ask again. What did you do?"

Glynda's eyes widened, and she looked to Ozpin.

The headmaster had gone still, his hand gripping the handle of his cane tightly, looking more somber than Glynda had ever seen him before.

Ozpin stood, and towered over the Faunus man, who seemed none the iller at ease.

"Who are you?" demanded the headmaster, eyes narrowed. "What do you know?"

"Know? I don't know anything about you Mr. Headmaster. All I can tell is that something haunts you. Any other of my kind would be able to tell."

Ozpin's eyes glinted in some unknown emotion that Glynda couldn't decipher, and his expression changed from surprise to recognition.

His face dawned in understanding, and he lowered himself into his seat.
"I see now." Ozpin stated. "You are one of them?"

Raziel seemed pleased. "I was under the impression that the tales of my kind were not commonplace here."

"Oh, they aren't. I tend to investigate many a strange thing." Ozpin replied, sipping from his thermos. "I'll have to ask, do you come from afar?"

Glynda's eyes darted between the two of them in abject confusion.

"Just a hop, a skip, and a leap away in the astral plane." drawled Raziel.

"Astral plane...?" mumbled Glynda. "What in tarnation?"

"If you are truly what you say you are, would mind me asking what you're doing here?" asked Ozpin. "I'm afraid you did threaten my student, so we'll have to ascertain your reliability."

Raziel scowled. "I'm not here by choice. Got deposited here after interacting with some artifact. No doubt whatever magic that brought me here is spent; at the very least dulled."

"Hold on," Glynda began, "Magic? What do you mean?"

"And unless I could somehow get to contacts in the pits, then I can achieve very little in the manner of returning to my home." said Raziel, ignoring her.
"One moment..." Glynda intoned, before being cut off by Ozpin.

"If we cannot return you, then I'll be sorry to inform you that we will have to restrain you from leaving. It's far too risky to have one of your kind running amok in a place where they shouldn't exist."

Raziel's face soured.

"I suppose I don't have a choice, really."

"Not particularly, no."

Crack!

Glynda's crop slammed into the table, which rattled precariously as Beacon's disciplinarian started down the two startled men.

"Will someone please explain what exactly is going on here!?"

The two males glanced at each other, and Ozpin rose.

"Well, I believe that settles it. Glynda." Ozpin said pleasantly, "You have a new assistant professor. Congratulations Mr. Marsalis, welcome to Beacon."

The reaction was immediate.

"W-What?" sputtered Raziel.

"WHAT?" screeched Glynda.

"Ouch," winced Ozpin, "Do be a tad softer, Ms. Goodwitch."

"And these will be your quarters." ended Glynda.

The new professor stepped inside, examining the room before him.

The room was small, with odd furniture centered by the windows, and a paltry kitchen area.

"How quaint." he drolled, before turning back to Glynda.
"Well, I suppose you'd have questions."

Glynda had more questions than she knew what to do with, but she went for the most obvious.

"Ozpin mentioned "Your kind". What exactly is it that you are?"

"Demon." he replied simply, rooting around in the cupboards.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Demon, woman. I am a demon; have you heard of hell?"

"You mean to tell me," Glynda responded incredulously, "That you, a man who got punched to death by a seventeen-year-old girl, is a demon from the depths hell?"

Raziel paused in his ministrations. "Well when you say it like that..."

"This is ridiculous! Do you actually expect me to believe you? To be expected to work with you?" Glynda burst, "What was Ozpin thinking hiring you!?"

She went silent as Raziel turned to face her, and she saw where once was a pair of red eyes was replaced by black pits of flames that roared and stretched unnaturally, as if trying to consume the socket it was held in.

"Demon." he stated simply. "A fire demon from the ninth plane of hell, Tartarus. They call our kind Tieflings."

The flames receded, as his red eyes reformed into his eye sockets, and turned back to the cupboard.

He searched for a few beats before making a sound of disappointment.

"No tea."

Well, it's been a while.

I apologize for taking so long to update, but I've been inordinately busy. Regardless, I'd like to identify the backgrounds of this real quick.

There are multiple terms and phrases here that I borrow from various sources, such as The Forgotten Realms, The Witcher Series, and Unearthed Arcana books.

The background isn't actually the setting of these books, but will contain elements of them; I plan to flesh Raziel's home realm in further chapters.

Expected Update Time – 03/23/2020

Until the next chapter.