A/N: The term Cadmean victory is a reference to Cadmus, the legendary founder of Thebes in Boeotia and the mythic bringer of script to Greece. On seeking to establish the city, Cadmus required water from a spring guarded by a water-dragon similar to the Lernaean Hydra. He sent his companions to slay the dragon, but instead, they all perished. Although Cadmus eventually proved victorious, the victory cost the lives of those who would benefit from the new settlement. Is such a triumph worth the cost in the end? Judge for yourself as you read the tale I have to tell.

Summary: After the tragedy that was Mountain Glenn, a lone survivor abandoned by his kingdom sets his sights on Vale with a deep-seated hatred in his heart. That hatred not only encouraged by his benefactor but also carefully refined into the deadliest of weapons. Now pushed towards Beacon with an unknown purpose, what does fate have in store for such a broken and misguided soul?

Disclaimer: While the plotline and original characters are the intellectual property of myself, elements from RWBY are the property of Rooster Teeth and Monty Oum. May God rest his soul. I make no profit from this other than receiving the satisfaction of writing and creating the best story I possibly can.

Special thanks: A very special thanks to OS Worldmakers: a God whom descended from the heavens to Beta-read this story. It looks remarkably better than it would have had I posted it without his input. Apparently I like to condense my writing way too much, making it hard to read.

Edit: I edited this chapter a little bit, trying to make it easier to read. Chapter two will be out shortly.

Cadmean Victory

Written by - xLeonhardt

Beta-read by - OS Worldmakers

Prologue - Mountain Glenn

Ten years ago...

The underbelly of Mountain Glenn was dark with passageways that twisted and turned like elaborate mazes overlapping each other. Ebon Knight, a short dark-haired boy, blindly stumbled through the lightless labyrinth, further losing himself within.

He no longer tried to spot familiar landmarks or identify the many mangled corpses littering Mountain Glenn's destitute halls. Staying alive and keeping ahead of the terrifying howls at his rear was now the only priority as they grew in both number and volume.

Ebon spared a furtive glance over his shoulder and instantly regretted doing so. He knew they were there without having to look, but seeing those glowing red eyes and towering black forms urged him to run even faster, forcing himself to draw from a pool of strength he never knew he had.

Fear was a great motivator. Fear of becoming just another unrecognizable stain on the ground spurred Ebon onward, making him forget the heavy feel of his body or the painful burning of his lungs. A burning that made breathing quickly become a chore as he gasped and wheezed, quickly closing in on the threshold of his endurance.

He must have been running for what felt like hours, never getting any closer to an exit or any further from his pursuers. They always seemed to be just the perfect distance away; never letting him out of their sight, but also not closing in for the kill. It was almost like they were toying with him.

Ebon was young, no older than seven, but he understood what death was and how it worked after seeing so many people, including his mother and father, devoured by the Grimm before his very eyes. After the initial breach of Mountain Glenn's walls and the subsequent slaughter that followed, he fled underground with the rest of the survivors. The few remaining Huntsmen sealed the entrances to the surface and hoped it was enough to keep out the Grimm.

And it was... at least for a while.

The surviving citizens of Mountain Glenn felt the explosion before they heard it. An explosion that opened up the mouth of another cavern filled with subterranean Grimm. With their last line of defense so thoroughly shattered, the survivors fled toward the metro tunnels hoping to use them and escape back to Vale. With only one chance of survival left, they so desperately hoped for a light at the end of this tunnel.

Instead, all they found was darkness. The entrance to the metro platform was sealed from the other side. It wasn't from the previous explosion or even a random cave-in.

No, this showed signs of man-made tampering. There was only one conclusion they could draw.

This was done by those that were supposed to protect them. Those that placed them here in the first place. Vale had abandoned them, and in doing so, doomed them to a fate worse than death.

What happened next came in a blur for Ebon. A chorus of loud and fearsome roars were met by rings of gunfire; pained and frenzied shouts then filled the still air, followed by the sickening sounds of flesh being torn and rent from bone. The few Huntsmen that were left fell quickly to the oncoming black and white tide of Grimm. It was only by chance that Ebon managed to escape down a side passage, while everyone else was left to suffer whatever fate befell them.

And now after having fled that massacre, seemingly an eternity after, Ebon's body finally gave out. He collapsed to his hands and knees, dry-retching from overexertion. With barely any strength left to keep himself upright, Ebon fell to his back and angled his head at the corridor he just came from.

Sure as death itself, there they were, gathering and waiting at the entrance of the long, narrow passage that opened up into the room Ebon was sure to be his final resting place. The tall, bulky, black-skinned, and white-armored beasts eyed him as if he were just another piece of meat. Which, in this case, might very well be true.

From the very beginning, Ebon knew his chances of survival were slim. He was no Huntsman. He was no hero that held the strength and courage to beat back the darkness and all evils that dwell within it. He was just a scared little boy that has seen too much death in such a short span of time.

"Well, what are you waiting for!? An invitation!? Come ooooooon!" Ebon's voice was hoarse as he screamed his defiance in the face of certain death.

A scared little boy isn't what he wanted to be. It was every child's dream to one day become a Huntsman or Huntress, a protector of the weak and defender of the light. Ebon was no different. If the story of his life was to end here today, then he wanted to show courage in his final moments. It was the least he could do repay the Huntsmen and Huntresses that fought so fiercely to protect Mountain Glenn, paying the ultimate price in the process.

With his piece said, all there was to do now is wait.

And Ebon didn't have to wait very long. The Grimm responded to his challenge the only way they knew how: with a chorus of loud and fearsome roars followed by a mad dash to their prey. There was an almost palpable bloodlust permeating the stale air. The Grimm's intent to rip Ebon limb from limb was clear.

Only... they didn't get very far. Ebon felt something fly over his head and impact the rocky ceiling above the rampaging Grimm. The resulting explosion was large and momentarily blinded and deafened the shocked boy. Clenching his eyes shut, Ebon waited out the duration of the blast before deciding it was safe to open his eyes once more.

Not much had changed aside from the corridor that was now blocked by a venerable wall of debris. And the Grimm were... gone?

No, they had been crushed by the rubble. But why, how?

"Hah hah hah hah! Those are some big brass ones you got there, kid! Hell, when I was your age, I probably would have pissed and shit myself if I was staring down a horde of flesh-eating monsters!"

"I... wh-wha-"

"It's a good thing, too! I've been slipping in and out of consciousness for a good while now. If you hadn't started screaming your head off, I might not have woke up to save your ass! And mine too, apparently. They would have ripped into me right after they were done with you no doubt. Not that there's much left of me to chew on! Hah hah hah hah!"

Ebon craned his neck towards the direction of the strange and eccentric voice. Tucked far away into the corner of the room was a figure sitting and leaning against the wall. A figure Ebon apparently failed to notice when he first arrived here.

It was a Huntsman! Or at least what was left of one. He hadn't been joking about there not being much left to chew on. His long hair was red; whether that was because it was his natural hair color or because of all the blood, Ebon was unsure.

He also only had one emerald-colored eye; the three large claws marks starting from the top of his scalp that ran all the way down the left side of his face took the other from him. It looked grisly to be sure, but that wasn't even the worst of it. His left arm up to the elbow was missing along with his right leg that was cut off at mid-thigh. Other than the obvious dismemberment there were numerous wounds all over his body, each bleeding profusely and staining his golden armor with tints of red.

All in all, it was beyond Ebon how this man maintained such a jovial tone despite the immense pain he must be in.

Ebon forced himself to crawl over to the Huntsman, still lacking the strength to regain his footing. It was a slow and arduous process, but he got there all the same. "Th-thank you for saving me. Is... is there anyway I can help you?" Ebon grimaced now that he had a closer look at the mauled Huntsman. It was a gruesome sight to behold. "If you lose too much more blood you might-"

"Ha!" The injured Huntsman laughed, causing him to erupt into a brief coughing fit. "Don't worry about me, kid. I'm amazed I lived this long as it is! There aren't many Huntsmen that die of old age. You're doing it wrong if you do!" Ebon supposed that was true, given the manner of monsters Huntsmen are required to face.

"What's your name, kid?"

"E-Ebon, sir..."

"None of that sir crap! The name's Rubrum!"

"R-Rubrum."

The newly dubbed Rubrum smiled and nodded as he patted Ebon's head with his good arm. "I'm surprised someone as young as you is still running around this place. You did good to make it this far, Ebon."

Ebon was unsure why now of all times he felt the need to cry. Perhaps it was Rubrum, whom just gave him his first bit of positive reinforcement since the beginning of this hellish nightmare. All throughout his life and death struggle in Mountain Glenn, Ebon had felt numb to everything but the desire to stay alive. He held in his tears when his father was run down in the streets above, and even when his mother was torn apart while shielding him with her own body. The whole situation had put him into a state of shock.

That shock was beginning to wear off now that Ebon had a moment of respite. An entire lifetime's worth of suffering, compressed into a single day, was now catching up to him.

But Ebon kept a tight reign on himself. He wanted to maintain his carefully constructed facade of bravery for a little while longer. If he gave in to despair now, Ebon was unsure if he could summon the will to go on.

His breakdown would have to come later.

"It's ok if you wanna have a cry, you know? You must have been through hell and back before you ended up here." Rubrum must have sensed his internal struggle and opened his arms wide, offering Ebon a comforting embrace and shoulder to cry on.

Ebon stared, briefly tempted to take him up on it. But his resolve was... maybe not firm, but it was solid enough. "I... N-No, I'm alright. I'll... I'll have time for that later."

Rubrum lowered his arms with a grin. "Hah! I like you kid! If only the bigwigs up in Vale had half the stones you do. Maybe then things would have been a little different."

Ebon had almost forgotten. The reminder felt like a splash of cold water to wake him up. "Vale." The word sounded like venom coming from Ebon's tongue. He remembered the hope he and so many others carried while fleeing toward the metro tunnels. Hope that was mercilessly crushed when they found the entrance blocked off.

"They... they left us. They trapped us in this place. Abandoned us to die..." Ebon felt his heart freeze over as burning anger and cold hatred burrowed their way deep inside. It must have shown on his face judging by the grimace on the aged Huntsmen's own.

"I know that look." Rubrum breathed out a weary sigh, his lively demeanor despite his injuries vanishing altogether. "Look, kid, I'm not gonna tell you to not feel what you're feeling right now. I just want you to remember that a lot more people would have died if Vale didn't seal the tunnels. Though that's not to say I think what they did was right. Choosing between the lives of innocent people... there is no right answer for something like that."

Somehow those words didn't alleviate Ebon's anger in the slightest. The wounded Huntsman could tell too, judging by the saddened look on his face.

"Revenge has a way of rebounding upon oneself. That wasn't a lesson I learned until I was much older. Older, but not exactly wiser. Hah hah!" Rubrum laughed at his own joke before continuing. "Retribution leads to another retribution. Then another and another and another. It's basic math, really: one minus one is zero. Vengeance never creates anything new. That's why it's important to forgive. Holding onto your hate and anger will only doom you to a never-ending cycle of death and destruction."

Rubrum sounded oddly profound, which felt like a stark contrast to Ebon's first impression of him. It must be all of his life experience talking, and Ebon couldn't help but feel his frenzied emotions dull slightly. It was still there, but it felt... muted, somehow. That might not have been what Rubrum was hoping for, but it was the best he was gonna get at this juncture.

In Ebon's eyes, all of his family and friends were dead or dying because of Vale. If only they had just waited before sealing the metro...

"But enough about that, acting all serious isn't in my nature." Rubrum let out a hearty chuckle. "I'm not your dad. You can make your own decisions when you get out of here. But I am proud of you. I said it before but... you did really good kid. The brave face you wear, the way you're forcing yourself to stop trembling, the will to push away your feelings and focus on the bigger picture... I know grown-ass men that can't do that."

Ebon's eyes widened. He knew!? He thought he had done so well in constructing and maintaining his facade!

"That's what makes you so special. Courage isn't about not having fear, but acting in spite of it. You faked a brave face and kept pushing forward, knowing that every step could have been your last. Unlike so many other children I saw freeze up and lose their lives because of it." Rubrum's voice took on a somber tone with a face full of regret. "I couldn't do anything for them... I couldn't save them, but now I have a chance to redeem myself in my own eyes. I can do something for you. I can save you."

Rubrum placed a hand on top of Ebon's head and said, "Grit your teeth, Ebon. This may or may not be painful."

Ebon wondered what Rubrum was doing before the Huntsman started to speak again. "For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."

"What... what did you do?" Ebon stood up, feeling oddly rejuvenated. He looked to his hands that were glowing a faint blue before it disappeared entirely. He could also feel the cuts on his body heal almost instantly.

Rubrum looked exhausted. "I forcibly unlocked your Aura. Aura is the manifestation of our souls, it's what gives us Huntsmen the ability to fight Grimm. It will... protect you in my place."

"In your... place? Aren't you coming with-"

Before Ebon could finish, Rubrum pushed something into his hands. "Lost my actual weapon in the fighting up above. This here was a gift from my niece. It's even got my name inscribed on the grip.

Ebon looked down to the piece of metal he had given him. It was a gold-colored pistol with a red trim.

"But won't you need this? You're coming with me, aren't you?"

"Hah hah hah hah hah!" Rubrum laughed like Ebon had told the funniest joke in the world. "Kid, look at me. All I'm good for right now is being a Beowolf's chew toy. Besides, unlocking someone's Aura takes a lot out of the person doing it. I doubt I could walk right now even If I had both my legs."

"Th-then what are we supposed to do!?" Ebon panicked at the thought of losing Rubrum; of losing only friendly face he has encountered in this hellish city.

"We aren't gonna do anything. You, on the other hand, are going to leave me here and escape this hellhole."

Ebon looked like Rubrum had just told him to fight the Grimm naked and barehanded.

"Come on, kid, don't give me that look. You don't need me anymore. I couldn't be much help to you anyway. I'm also feeling... really tired right now. Must be my old age catching up to me! Hah hah hah hah!"

"This isn't funny!" Ebon screamed hysterically. "I... you... what am I supposed to do without you!?"

"You fight!" Rubrum's voice was harsh and hard as steel. "Death is easy. Life? Well, that's a bit more difficult. If you want to live then you're gonna have to work for it! Nothing will ever be handed to you on a silver platter! If you want something then you gotta reach out and take it! Even if that something is your own survival!"

Ebon was silent in the face of Rubrum's outburst. He felt like the small child he was, being scolded by his father for misbehaving.

"I've done all I can for you. If I could walk out of here with you I would do so in a heartbeat. We would leave this place and I'd take you in and raise you as my own. I don't have a wife or kids or anything like that, but living with me would mean having to introduce you to my niece. You two are a lot alike in some ways. I'm sure you would hit it off wonderfully. Maybe even too wonderfully if I'm being honest. I can picture you two getting married and having kids somewhere down the line. You and I would be as close as family, perhaps even more so. But that's just a dream. We live in harsh reality. It's regrettable, truly, but the reality is that my story ends here, whereas yours is just beginning. I don't have any more words of encouragement for you; no more profound old man advice. The only thing I have left to give is my well-wishes. I wish you well, Ebon. May the Brothers watch over you."

Rubrum nodded his head to his left. There was another corridor there. "There's a draft coming from that direction. If you follow it you should be able to reach the outside." He leaned back and closed his eyes. "Now, if you don't mind, this weary old dog... needs... his... rest."

Ebon stared blankly. He didn't know for how long, but there he was, just staring at what had once been Rubrum; his savior and momentary father-figure, now nothing more than a sack of flesh for the Grimm to feast on. He felt something well-up under his eyes.

It's not the time! Now was not the time for this!

Ebon struggled fruitlessly to keep in what was threatening to come out, but the dam broke and he couldn't contain it any longer. Falling to his knees, Ebon let out a wail of anguish with tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

"Damn it!" Ebon slammed his fists onto the ground. "Damn it!" He had latched on to Rubrum knowing that his wounds might be too grievous to survive. Now he was paying the price.

It was another death. Another life. Another person Vale had indirectly taken from him. Why did he have to go through this? What had he done to deserve this suffering? Rubrum's death was the final nail in the coffin.

Now Ebon could no longer reign himself in. His tenuous self-control broke, causing his previously repressed emotions to spiral out of control. That strange feeling returned as a result, much more prominent than before. That oddly cold sensation which also burned with an intensity he couldn't even begin describe.

Hate.

Anger.

These two things mixed to form something completely new. Something Ebon felt coursing through him while that strange blue light appeared around him again. Only this time it looked dimmer. Like a bit of black had been mixed into it.

It felt strange. Like the world had just become a bit darker.

Ebon was thrown from his internal struggle by the ferocious roars of the Grimm. He could hear them on the other side of the wall of debris, wildly smashing themselves against it with a fervor he had never seen nor heard before. The protective wall was crumbling bit by bit, and a deep sinking feeling penetrated him.

What had caused the Grimm to frenzy like this?

They were quiet until only moments ago. Whatever the reason, Ebon didn't have time to mull it over. He dried his eyes and took one last look at Rubrum, then at the name imprinted upon the grip of the pistol.

"Rubrum Nikos, I will never forget you. I wish... I wish I could have known you better."

With those final words, Ebon ran to the passage Rubrum had pointed out earlier. He could indeed feel a slight breeze. Freedom was close now, closer than it had ever been before. Ebon's grip on Rubrum's weapon tightened.

He wouldn't let anything stand in his way.

He owed it to Rubrum to survive when he could not.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Cadmean Victory. Suggestions and criticism, constructive or otherwise, is always welcome.