A sacrifice for all,

As she takes the fall.

Time and distance,

Will test a Knight's persistence

Well it's been awhile since I've done any Fanfiction, but I'm here now.

Life is busy, so there's that.

Well here's another Lancaster one-shot, I did think of making an Arkos one, but I felt Lancaster would work a bit better here.

I would've put in a Romance tag on this, but it felt more Friendship than Romance, so there's that.

Recently having seen Koe No Katachi (A Silent Voice), Byōsoku Go Senchimētoru (5 Centimeters Per Second) and having played Katawa Shoujo. I was in many ways influenced by those works to write this piece.

"Hey, Promise me you'll make out of this out alright."

"You too."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

...

…

...

"So should we get a move on?"

"Yeah...we should…"

…

…

…

"Five more minutes?"

"Eh...Why not?"

Blood, sweat, and tears were shed as two forces clashed in the darkest region of Remnant. One light and one dark, in a final act of defiance against each other, they brought sword against shield, beast against hunter and villains against heroes. There hadn't been fights as intense as this since the last Great War.

The adrenaline rush kicked in, their veins filled with their strength and bravery, and their blood boiling from the heat of battle.

The bright flash of Crescent Rose's muzzle lit up the surrounding valley, the pink explosions of Magnhild were followed by a brave knight charging through the pink fire swinging his sword wildly against the creatures of Grimm, the green blades of their ninja followed cutting down any and all Grimm that they had missed.

This was the fight of their lives, their journey had taken them to almost all four corners of Remnant, it all accumulated to this.

One long year of fighting in this bitter war had led up to one last push.

In a place where no light entered, where the flora thrived on death and the fauna fed on the souls of man. The desolate landscape would never be seen as an ideal vacation hot spot. Not with pools of dark water that spawned the creatures of Grimm or the dark demonic fortress that loomed above their heads.

The rest of their allies and acquaintances fought beside them, however, they knew that they could not stay and join their battles.

Their mission was to cut off the head of this enormous serpent.

The ones that had started it all.

They had the power that she feared,

The ones that had brought this death and destruction to their once peaceful world, the ones who robbed them of their friends and homes, the ones who stole their innocence and youth.

They now knew the name of their enemy.

Salem.

From the fall of Beacon to their perilous journey to Haven, she had strewn and weaved chaos across the world, all

The dark witch, who ruled this land and plotted everything behind the scenes, pulling the strings of puppets everywhere to complete her agenda of destruction.

A loud explosion rocked their feet, but such things would not hinder their rush against the citadel that stood before them. As they leaped through the flames that dared to surround them.

Their charge was possibly foolhardy, but it was one built on hope.

They had a plan or at least some form of a plan.

It was a simple plan at the very least, take out the head and go home. Once she was dead, her hold on the Grimm would disappear,

Their cohesion and unity were going to help pave their way to this victory.

Bursting through the cold steel gates that stood in their way, a loud clang followed at they hit the ground.

Various species of Grimm attempted to stop them, Goliaths charged them head on, Beowulfs followed like the hulking black masses slashing anything that was remotely human, and razor-tipped Nevermore feathers flew in volley after volley like black rain.

"Halt." Boomed a voice, standing on a dark altar.

Fire and brimstone surrounded them, torches lit in an evil green flame and cold cobblestone lit their path to the villain at the center stage.

They looked up and laid their eyes on this grey-skinned hybrid for the first time. Despite their hardened resolve, the strange woman before them reeked a strange scent. The scent of death, fear, and rage.

They now stood face to face with the woman, who had ruined their lives.

The woman who had destroyed the lives of so many innocents with her pawns and wicked schemes.

"You children are the first ever to desecrate my palace with your presence, and you will most certainly be the last." She purred menacingly, with a hint of venom within her words as she glided towards them slowly, a representation of the Grimm Reaper if they didn't know any better.

They all gripped their weapons, expecting a fight to break out within any second. Looks could be deceiving, despite the color of her hair indicating old age, one does not get to where she was without personally bloodying her hands.

The soft tapping of a pair of stilettos and an eye catching Crimson dress caught his attention. To the uneducated, a scarred beauty that was descending, but to the rest of them, it was the arrival of the devil herself.

His steel grip did not soften as his hand wrapped on more tightly on its hilt, he kept his rage in check, but like a caged beast that longed to be free, he was eager to let loose on his enemy.

Perhaps the fear had suddenly gripped them tightly, perhaps they were blinded, paralyzed and dumbstruck by the unholy sight of this woman.

Their tongues tied at this moment, their courage faltering at this crucial moment.

The Witch continued on with her ramblings. "Pathetic, you shall die here. And once your deaths have been assured. Your world will burn." She taunted on with such grace.

The hate reached a boiling point, in the blink of an eye, Ruby transformed into a whirl of rose petals, spinning forward with all her might. Twirling in the dark like a bolt, she pushed the elderly woman past a noir glass mosaic, shattering it.

A red bolt of hope, lighting their darkest time.

Of course, he had grown to be able to see her movements even better in the time they had spent together, and he managed to catch a glimpse of her silver eyes, filled with determination and rage.

He had a feeling that it would always lead to this, she was always something more unique and special compared to them. Those silver eyes that he first saw when he had met her.

He wished he could escape this fight, stuck in between the pursuit of justice. He watched as the last twirl left her signature rose petal fluttering down on the marble ground, leaving a pang of fear for her safety.

Now he was left to fight his own nemesis.

For her.

He sat there with his head down, his tired hands holding the golden crown, it felt so heavy in his hands. It felt like the weights that his father made him lift when he was younger, he failed to bring them up almost every alternating time. It was meant to help build character, but all it did was only to help further disenchant his beliefs in his strength and abilities.

Now he was sinking to all new levels of depression.

Her uncle had simply placed the crown in his hands as he walked past him, carrying the immobile body of his niece.

The drunkard did not say a word as he placed the ornament in his hands, his eyes had an emotionless almost uncaring stare, the simple action seemed too insignificant to the old man as if he had done the same actions a thousand times.

Yet it only seemed to push the blade deeper into his soul.

The golden reflection showed his tears, each drop sliding down his warm cheeks.

He was afraid.

He wasn't afraid of the loss of the city.

He wasn't afraid of the loss of Beacon.

He wasn't afraid of losing more innocents.

He was afraid of losing the first friend that he still had.

He had already lost his partner, the ghost of the kiss that she planted on his lips moments earlier, still left a bitter taste. Her forceful shove into the rocket locker still left him hating this cruel twist of fate.

Staring at his friend's exhausted body, as it was placed down gently on the makeshift medical bed.

He prayed that he did not have to lose two friends in one night, his teeth gritted as he cursed all that was wrong and evil for tonight's events.

Both of them had so much to live for, they still had their lives ahead of them, so much more to do and so much more to see.

The salt that crept from his eyes to the corner of his lips, drowned out the bittersweet taste that was still fresh.

In one hand he held onto what little remained of his partner and in the other the wooden handle to the medical stretcher that held his friend. Letting his tears drown his sorrows and fears.

Maybe if he had been stronger.

He could've been so much more…

It all came tumbling down, tumbling down, tumbling down…

In the end, he sat there waiting for her to wake up. The medics came to check up on her...She remained as still as a doornail.

Her uncle eventually took her away, carrying her still docile body away, he wanted to ask if he could go along with them, he wanted to be by her side to make sure she was alright until she awakened.

However, he didn't...she already had her own family to look after her, any more and it felt like he would be intruding upon her.

So he would wait.

Every second felt like an eternity. As he watched others rush to and fro, it all seemed so surreal to him. Like a painting that he had seen once in a museum, where the artist had used colors in swirly patterns but still managed to maintain reality with each touch.

Then his fatigue kicked in, his eyes felt heavier not only due to his tears but the weight of his world crashing down on him knocked him unconscious.

His slumber went on uninterrupted, as his hands held onto hers.

And thus, the knot was tied, much to their chagrin.

…

...

The dust slowly faded away, their vision regaining with each breath, as he could feel his strength still supporting him, his feet secured their footing once more.

Petals of darkness scattered, the Grimm seemed to be dying off. Whatever had happened, resulted in this phenomenon, as one by one the creatures of Grimm evaporated into steam and scattered into the air.

The cheers of the victorious from outside the citadel's walls reached into the hollow chamber.

Joyous and so full of life.

The fires of war extinguished, as they had obtained victory. It wasn't without the taste of blood in their mouth but that was and will always be the bittersweet taste of victory.

It was the presence that he had long felt...Hope.

Cuts and bruises, first and second-degree burns were a possibility, his armor had been scorched, and his clothes smell of second-hand smoke as he had been signed by the fiery temper of his opponent.

I had been an intense tale, worthy to be spoken of for generations to come, children would sing of how the 'legendary hunter

He looked in front of him.

Fate presented the end for his rival.

A gruesome one, as her body, laid there, with scars ruining her cruel beauty, blood seeping out of her wounds. It couldn't be referred to as a body, a corpse, nothing more nothing less.

A bright orange glow left her lips, the strange energy floated away, signifying her last breath. The destructive parasite that once inhabited his opponent now searched for a new host as it floated off in the wind.

Did he feel pity for her?

She was a villain in the end.

They had earned their victory.

So why did it feel like they had lost?

He picked up his battered sword and shield, and he began to walk, his leg hurt from the sword wound, hence his limp. Mustering his strength, he began to limp towards the source of the silver explosion.

He could feel the sunlight beginning to seep back into this dark corner of the world, the radiant glow returning his strength.

With what little strength that he had, he made his way beyond the walls where he fought his battle.

In the courtyard, there was no one there, only ghosts and phantoms of the fight.

The evil that threatened to engulf their lives had been banished.

They had won.

His eyes scanned the room for any sign of that familiar red cloak, the warm smile that he had grown accustomed to, or the wave of rose petals that were a clear indication of her graceful presence.

The ground had cracked in the shape of a spider web, at the center was the legendary Crescent Rose, it's tip now at the center of this web, scars and scratches covered the weapon. A torn piece of red fabric clung onto the weapon, held down by this enormous blade.

Its owner was nowhere to be found.

He didn't know what to expect when he rushed to find her, yet he was met with nothingness.

He scanned the site of the battle with his eyes, searching for another sign of red, and yet he found nothing, not a hint or a whisper of his friend.

With what little strength he had, he yelled for her.

And he yelled

And he yelled

And he yelled.

Only the echoes of his voice returned to him.

His fears began surrounding him once again, a presence he had not felt for a long time. The creeping realization of history repeating itself edging closer and closer back into his mind.

Not again…

Far above, tangled strings became loose and free, intertwined fates were no longer connected and let loose.

On the clear open fields of the East, where oriental villages were scattered throughout the land. The stars still shone on bright, blinking in the night sky, surrounding the shattered moon above.

The tranquil scene was watched by all across the world, each tiny speck stared in peace at the sight. Two watched on quietly, their tired bodies were supported by the soft grass prickling their skin ever so lightly.

The journey had been long, they had fought a Geist and saw the destruction of an entire town.

"Jaune?"

"Yeah."

"Name five things that make Crescent Rose, the best weapon ever of all time." She asked casually.

The question didn't seem to catch him off guard, it was one of the more interesting ones that she had tossed out, although her obsession to the weapon was a frightening reminder of her dedication to that scythe. "Uhh...One, it's big."

She nodded her head in approval, although she was disappointed at the short compliment.

"It can shoot very far….It has a big blade….It's red...Ummm...It was made by you…" He blurted out.

She didn't seem hurt by the compliments, although she did seem more disappointed in him for the short replies. "That's it?" She questioned more hurt by his short response.

"Well...I DON'T work well under pressure." He whined on squirming, earning a playful smirk from her.

"Alright, your turn." She jested cheerfully.

"Uhhh...Five things you want the most, right now." He suggested.

"One...A warm bed, two… a warm meal, three...I could go for a plate of cookies, four...Ya…" Her words didn't match her mind as her answer changed mid-sentence. "Ya know maybe a hot bath and a Zwei…" With her classic warm smile and bright stare.

She was avoiding what had happened, he knew.

He was also avoiding mentioning what had just happened, she knew.

She saw him training with that video a few nights ago, pushing himself while hurting himself at the same time.

He saw that she still missed the ones that they lost.

It was at these moments that either one of them would break the silence with a piece of small talk or continue on with their silly little game...This time it was different, not another word was spoken.

Their eyes spoke for them, as they looked towards each other at different intervals, switching in between each other's gaze towards each other; both only caught one side of their partner's face.

Their hands were in close proximity, as they felt the pair gently touching, their fingers moved in closer and closer.

Handholding was such an innocent thing...it was a familiar thing…

The last time he held hands with someone of the opposite sex was... the last time he saw the good side of Pyrrha; she had that warm motherly smile, the golden leaves falling around them and her emerald green eyes were so full of life...well not entirely...She was keeping a hint of sadness within her.

It was still a good memory nonetheless...was this what she missed as well... a reminder of better times.

What was he doing?

Was he just trying to relive a memory or was he trying to help comfort his friend?

They laid there watching the stars fly past. As their love kept them warm for the night, whilst the ghosts of those gone from their lives kept the darkness away.

Yet they weren't being honest with one another, both had words that they wished that they would say. It was an open window to let the cold rush in, the knot tied was slipping and the length of the string would soon be found short.

Some believed that she had died that day, some believed that she was still alive.

They searched for her, they did...

All those that survived, yelled her name.

RUBY

RUBY

RUBY

They all yelled until their throats became hoarse and their bodies already tired from battle collapsed from exhaustion.

They continued to look for her months after she had disappeared, then one after, from friends to family eventually gave up on the search.

Her disappearance left scars deeper than any blade, wounds that possibly would never heal even with the passing of time.

He felt the dirt and sand beneath his boots shift, as the winds drifted over each particle softly. The warm sun led to more sweat bleeding out of his wounds. The clanking of his armor, clashing with his aged sword was a mesmerizing noise.

The familiar green oriental trees, dark green grass and gray clouds, the destroyed towns that they had seen in their travels still existed and had not faded entirely. However, piece by piece, brick by brick and with every piece of aging wood, the ghost towns remained ghost towns of what was once so much more.

He moved on.

He didn't have a destination.

He had wandered this world aimlessly for the past...years, he seemed to have lost count of the time/

He had seen the seasons change so much, the winds often brought autumn and her cold leaves, then the frost brought in freezing winters, the warm gentle touch of Spring would then arrive, the explosion of flowers signaled the arrival of Summer. They would come and go as they please, never saying goodbye.

Always searching, always looking.

The cold frigid wastelands of Atlas in the far north.

The distant islands of Menagerie in the far southern corner.

The vibrant towns of Mistral in the east.

The barren deserts of Vacuo in the west.

He had seen them all.

They held such vast beauty, from the crystal mountain tops, strange and unique cultures, from the packed bazaars of menagerie to the warm taverns of Mistral, and yet they did not have what he searched for.

All journeys bore no fruit in his bleak search.

Now he was back to the path that they had walked so long ago when it was just the four of them on their pilgrimage to reach their new haven of hope. In their pursuit of answers, they left the comfort of their home and marched across these lands.

She had led them across these very lands, as they found destroyed towns and helped those in need. The long and arduous journey that had been a wild ride, truths were revealed to them and they grew more mature, almost as if it was a rite of passing.

The others seemed to have given up long ago.

Yang still grieved since the last time he saw her, but Blake was there for her; she had stopped smoking, so there was that.

Weiss, well he never saw her since that day. The last he heard, she was in Atlas doing whatever she did, running that company and upholding her family name, or something to that extent.

Ren and Nora, those two were doing fine on their own, now officially hunters and huntresses, they seemed to be happy with where they were in Vale. Surprisingly the world still needed Huntsman and Huntresses...

They had all moved on.

Yet, he was still looking for her.

They all told him, even her uncle and father had told him that it was survivor's guilt.

Her own father and uncle had told him to give up...Well no...That was being too harsh towards them. He heard the story of how their team was torn apart years ago, they all knew what it was like to lose a good friend.

Was he continuing his search out of guilt? Or was it his stubborn refusal to admit defeat?

He didn't even know where she was, what she looked like or even if she was alive and breathing. So why was he still searching for her?

He let out a soft sigh.

The memories that he had of her, had become blurry to him. They all blurred into one at times and yet seemed to scatter away sometimes. Sometimes it seemed like a dream or a nightmare.

What cruel fate it was, victory was won that day but at a loss.

He had fought and he had fought and yet he still lost, time and time again, he lost and he lost.

NO...This time he did everything right, he was there for her...He had been there for her...He held on tight when he could've let go...HE protected and fought for her, with all his strength and abilities.

SO why did he still lose her?

But how could he judge…It wasn't even fair for him to judge. Had he truly done everything in his power?

Did he deserve this?

Maybe he did, maybe he didn't.

Centuries old of architecture, priceless artifacts, and a smoldering wreck.

As another Beacon of light and one of the four bastions of hope for humanity was razed, as the city fell to the Grimm once more, the citizens ran in panic from the chaos, buildings razed as violence and death took over.

Anarchy had won.

From the airship, they looked down on the same destruction that befell Beacon nearly a year earlier.

They arrived at the city after fighting the Nuckelavee in the town of Kuroyuri, picked up by the timely arrival of a few passing airship patrols. The events in the city weren't exactly a change from their ongoing adventure.

Familiar faces and new enemies were met in the new environment, team RWBY became whole once again and their shenanigans continued on.

Then, in the end, all that they had worked to uncover, was suddenly knocked out of their hands as crisis after crisis came to their attention. The Grimm poured in once more and history unfolded into the same exact replica of humanity's mistakes. The innocents were the ones to pay for their failures and mistakes, blood was spilled and the Grimm feasted on fear once more.

As fear and chaos took over the city, the warnings of the wise were ignored and tossed aside.

Now they were on another great pilgrimage away from the fallen city towards somewhere else...wherever somewhere else was, at least last time the evacuation of Vale had gone more smoothly since the designated safe areas hadn't been overrun, but now nowhere in the city was safe.

Once again, they had their tails wrapped around their legs and were scurrying like rats from the darkness in hopes of finding light…

No one said a word since they had escaped, well Yang did manage to sneak in one pun before they gave her a cold stare that shut her up.

He was going to let Nora and Ren enjoy each other's company for now.

Let the rest of team RWBY continue on with...well whatever they do to remain calm in this situation.

As for him...he was headed off to find wherever Ruby had run off to.

It didn't take him long considering it was a small, finite area that she could've left for. The passenger bay was full of citizens of the kingdom, with the same familiar look of fear and sadness.

A reminder that they had failed once more.

The silvery light that was radiating from the closet seemed like someone was playing with the light switch, Of course, he knew better…

He had seen the phenomenon just minutes ago when they faced Cinder again on the grounds of Haven Academy as they were conducting an evacuation on innocents. His first visual of her 'Silver eyes', a bright burst of power erupting like a volcano.

Every sort of Grimm burning from her eyes, Cinder despite her maiden powers was struggling and their brightest day was lit up.

After unleashing her secret power, she then collapsed from exhaustion.

For a moment, it seemed that hope had returned to them.

Of course, hope was never enough, in their darkest day no matter how much hope you had, it would never be enough to face against an enemy that was stronger and better than them. Their hope was snuffed as she collapsed, her team rushed forward to save her, and their evacuation continued once more.

More Grimm marched on into the city and they continued on fleeing.

Back to the present, he was knocking on an old closet door, hoping that his friend was hiding in there.

Tap

Tap

The soft pulsing silvery light stopped emitted from underneath the gaps of the door, he could hear a few excited pants from behind the wood, a panicked pace of breathing, that was coming back down to a steady pace.

"Yeah?" A mature and tired voice asked.

"Ruby...It's me...Can I come in?" He asked with father-like care.

"S...Sure." With a soft 'click', the door was unlocked, to his surprise, he hadn't realized that the door had been locked in the first place.

The closet was more spacious than he realized, enough room for the two of them, although the low ceiling was an initial surprise, as it made contact with a soft 'thud'. This, however, was no place for anyone to be in, especially someone who had just singlehandedly saved them.

The cold collection of mops and brooms were the only company they had as she sat down in one of the corners. He sat next to her, filling the space between her and the nest empty corner.

It was cramped, dark and uncomfortable.

She didn't seem to mind that much, but he couldn't really tell. In her battle worn clothes, her red hood was pulled down covering her facial features.

Well...in truth, it was actually getting a bit brighter by the second, a tiny bit of silvery light was protruding from the right eye of his partner.

The same light that had saved them minutes ago had now returned, and it was actually...hurting him quite a bit. Battle and exhaustion had drained his Aura, so her powers were putting a strain on his tired body.

"Umm...Ruby...Ugh...Your eye." He moaned in pain.

It was upon his complaint, did she realize that she had let her power run out of control, placing both hands swiftly on top of her eye, the silvery light began to fade away, as she asserted her dominance.

He had faced his fair share of pain before, both emotional and physical, but this experience with her light was certainly strange. It felt like it was crushing his weak Aura bit by bit ever so slightly.

The look of shock and terror was written all over her as she realized what she had done. "Jaune...I'm sorry…" Her soft hands moved on top of his cheeks, still in pain from her eyes. It still felt like a pickling pain as she graced his cheeks.

It was something that he had seen before, the fear of their own strength as it hurt the one that they cared about.

The anxiety kicking in, as their fears and doubts wrapped around their minds, with the knowledge that their powers were a double-edged sword.

Last time, he was a blind fool, instead of standing beside the one that loved him he was oblivious to the signs and pushed her further away from him. The result was her pushing him away, literally as he was pinned on a stone cold wall.

He took a deep breath… He needed to be there for her this time...think before you speak...and most of all be there for her.

Holding the hopes that he could still help, lest he allowed the same events unfold once more.

"What's wrong?" He asked, but not before slapping himself mentally for the simply charging in, he hadn't even considered the possibilities of what could go wrong when he simply decided to rush in and pry open her ...there was no going back now, he needed to push in further to help.

She gave him a small scared look, but a hint of relief within. "Hmm?" With her same childlike innocence that she had when he first met her, acting as a mask to shield her true emotions.

"Come on...Don't play dumb with me."

She remained silent, her lips weren't moving an inch, despite his stare on her.

He gave a sigh, he hadn't thought that he would be back in this position once again...heck he hadn't even told anyone what happened last time… "Ruby...the last time I had to sit with someone like this, it was with Pyrrha…"

That got her undivided attention, as she looked directly at him with curiosity and empathy at the mention of her name. Pleasant memories of her warm smile during their innocent youths mixed in with her shell-shocked expression at the eve of her fall.

It wasn't easy to forget what had happened.

He continued on with a heavy heart. "I asked her what was wrong, but I made mistakes, I pushed the wrong buttons and pushed her away like the idiot I was...So for the love of god, please let me help you." His eyes were beginning to fill with desperation. "I don't want to lose you too…"

She felt smaller than ever. In this tiny little closet, she felt like the most minuscule of atoms.

"Alright...I am scared…"She spoke truthfully, with her voice muffled by her sleeves, in her huddled position, her meek voice was all that was heard.

He simply nodded, acknowledging her words with the utmost sincerity.

"I didn't know what to expect when I climbed up that tower. I sometimes think I should've been faster, now I think should've never gone up in the first place." In her downtrodden tone, not even the brightest rays of sunshine could brighten the mood.

"You're scared." He stated calmly, an emotion that he was all too familiar with.

"My eyes are a curse." She spat out.

To hear her say this was heart wrenching "Your eyes are not a curse."

"THEY ARE."She blurted out without a second thought. In all her anxiety and fears, she stepped closer to the thin red line. "I couldn't save Pyrrha, I was the reason Tyrian to us and I couldn't even save this city with it."

Her powers flared up once more, it's burning effect like a flash bang scorched his weak Aura and burned into his skin slightly, an extremely bad sun burn was forming on his left cheeks. Her powers were beginning to run wild as was her emotions.

Once again, her hand moved over the source of the light.

"So you failed a couple of times. Big deal. Look at me, I've probably failed for most of my life. I failed my family, I failed Pyrrha when she needed me the most and I've probably failed way more than you have."

She snorted in disbelief. "Yeah right."

"I'm serious." He said with a smooth smirk on him.

"I couldn't save Pyrrha that night." She said with a quiver of fear, but with a hint of confidence.

"Hah...I let her down hours earlier when she needed me the most." He said confidently, although the hint of self-loathing was present in his words.

"I was the reason Tyrian chased after us on our trip."

"Oh please, your uncle was clearly just using you as bait." He retorted, much to her ire.

"I couldn't stop the Grimm just now."

"Pssh...I was there as well, so technically I've failed to help defend both Vale and Mistral now. I'm going two for two, maybe I'll be able to disappoint all four kingdoms." He joked.

The two looked at each other with the same message in their eyes. "We've fucked up. So get all your shit together, because we need each other. Put all your shit together and fight this."

A small smile returned to both their lips, their lives weren't easy, but they at least had each other to make the road less bumpy. There was no guarantee that the rest of their lives weren't going to be without their conflicts leading to long nights of restlessness, but it was certainly going to help her sleep easier tonight, and if that was all he could do, then he was more than pleased.

The familiar question that was brought before him all those months ago was now asked once again, but not as a hated memory, but as a familiar friend."Hey, Ruby...do you believe in destiny?"

She looked straight at the blank space before them, that was filled with nothing but brooms and mops. "I'm not sure...but maybe I'm beginning to, with these new…"

"'Don't." He spoke calmly and with certainty. "Your eyes will take you further along your path, but they won't shape your destiny, your powers won't control your destiny. If you ever feel lost and confused by them, just remember you are in control of your own path."

She didn't say another word, attempting to swallow in every word that he had said, at the same time formulating a rebuttal in her head as well. "You give some pretty good pep talks."

"Well, someone did do the same for me back in Beacon when I was still new to being a leader. Now come on, you really shouldn't stay in a closet." As he stood up, his head bumped the low hanging ceiling, once again showing that the familiar bumbling idiot was still in him.

Despite still being clouded by fears and doubts, a small ray of sunlight entered, a soft smirk returned, she still had her friends and their support, she could get better. No. She will get better.

They left the closet, to see the world awaiting them.

With fate and destiny watching on, weaving their strings and webs, with cruel and malicious intentions.

They saw it all.

They had seen what had to be done, so they spun and spun the strings that they held as if it were some simple game.

To them, it was a simple game of eternal love and eternal hate.

Was he a liar?

Was her fate set in stone with her eyes?

Was he wrong to make her believe in a locus of control?

Was this all a cruel nightmare that he was never going to awaken from?

The sandy path shifted gently beneath his feet.

It was coarse, rough, irritating and it got everywhere.

Another burst of wind picked up another handful of sand toward him. A thousand knives flew toward him, battering his already scarred armor and heart.

He was a man nearing his thirties and yet he felt like an old man nearing the end of his life. perhaps he had already started growing a few gray hairs. Perhaps he had already seen too much pass from his life.

He had been there for her, instead, she was still ripped away from him. It wasn't fair, he got stronger and wiser, but yet fate still viewed him as weak and ripped her away from him. It was not his place to question his place in the world but it left the burning feeling of injustice done towards him.

Then out of the tiny corner of his eyes.

He saw a hint of dark red flutter in front of his eyes. Gracefully and swiftly cutting through the wind like a scythe, as it gently flew closer and closer.

He let his hands out and set the stage for this mysterious dancer.

She flew into the palm of his hands, softly. Yet it cut deeper than any dagger.

The red piece did not gleam like the brightest Ruby in existence. It did not breath a warm smile like the prettiest of roses. It was a fraction of all that, as the rose petal that now rested in his hands laid there.

He looked towards the edge of this sea of sand, yet there was no one to be found.

The rose petal still laid there in the palm of his hand.

The world works in mysterious ways.

Perhaps he could walk a thousand miles and he wouldn't be any closer to her.

Perhaps he could shout her name a thousand times and he wouldn't change what he had done that day.

Perhaps he could fight a thousand enemies and he wouldn't be any closer to finding her.

Even if he did travel back in time, said the right things, did the rights things, be at the right place at the right time, there was always the possibility that he could not change what had happened in the past.

Fate and destiny had set their paths long ago.

He kept moving on.

Does life imitate art or does art imitate life?

I lost someone recently, someone who I've known for a long time.

She's not dead if you're asking, but she's gone somewhere far away.

Time and distance won't be kind, but perhaps it is for the best that I forget her.

I hate myself.