"Weiss?" Glynda asked, having found her in her favorite hiding spot at Beacon. She'd been here what felt like so long ago, explaining to the most precious dofus in the world that he should accompany her to the dance with a kiss. She remembered his shocked face, and how eagerly he returned her affections. They'd shared a dance, too.

One year. One year since he'd died at Mountain Glenn. It had taken her a long time to recover. He had died in her arms. She hadn't been able to do anything, and no matter how much everyone else insisted there was nothing they could have done, Weiss refused to believe it.

There must have been something they could have done. Anything.

He'd been declared a national hero; Glynda had made sure that everyone knew who he was, that it was him who had single handedly drawn the Grimm away, that it was him who had slain the dragon that had threatened to burn down their very homes.

No one didn't celebrate his name. His funeral had been an open affair to all, and everyone had come, no matter from which kingdom, no matter their background, from the lowly thieves to the oldest of Huntresses. No one said the name Sibyl without the most sacred reverence, as if he was someone straight from legend itself.

He was someone from legend.

His magic had already changed the world. The book he'd written, detailing every single spell he knew, every miracle, every pyromancy? It was available to the public. No one had put it better than Yang. "Fireball always said pyromancy was meant to spread, that everyone deserved to have their inner flame, to have that little spark of warmth on even the coldest of nights. Who the hell disagrees?"

Sorcery had taken off, too. It was freely published; anyone, anywhere could study sorcery if they had access to a library. Miracles found their own niche, mostly in healing others, though they weren't as widespread in use. They weren't as easy to understand.

All in all, Sibyl fit the definition of hero perfectly.

Being a hero, Weiss decided, was a terrible thing.

She looked up from the soul clutched in her hands. It was odd, describing how it felt. She never didn't have it on her. She could feel that it was just a bit warmer, just a bit more comfortable the closer it was to her. Sibyl had entrusted his soul to her, and she'd never let it wander far.

It was the least she could do.

"Yes, Glynda?" It wasn't just Glynda, Weiss realized. Yang was there too.

"We've… we've come up with something," Yang said, voice hesitant. It wasn't the first time they'd come up with something. Their initial idea had been to shove Sibyl's soul into some Atlas-made construct. Still, that wasn't a possibility while his soul was so corrupted with the Abyss.

They weren't willing to. They said with his soul being so infected with the abyss, there was no chance the operation would work. And, secondly, it might even destroy his soul. That was something she'd never allow to happen. Never. She felt her fists clench, and felt the soul in her hands protest. Sibyl could feel when she was angry, and he was never happy about it.

She calmed down.

"It's… well, we actually used some of Sibyl's old ideas," Glynda intoned, "from when you first went deaf. He described it as a way of connecting two people's souls, so he might have been able to talk to you even back then. It had a lot of interesting theories on making the distinction between souls." Weiss felt her ears perk up, but she didn't dare hope. She'd done that enough in the past year.

"We messed around with it a bit," Yang said, "And… well, we need his soul. And your help." Weiss felt her breath hitch. She never parted with his soul. Ever. It would always cry out to her when she did, begging to stay near.

"We have a piece of Sibyl's soul, sorta," Yang explained, conjuring a small, flickering flame in her hand. Pitifully small. It certainly wasn't her own flames. "I practiced, like, a ton. I got to the point where I can separate what's Sibyl's and what's mine. It gave me an idea."

Weiss still didn't understand where they were going with this. "We're thinking we can get rid of the abyss, or at least reduce it enough that Atlas will finally fucking plug his soul into one of their creations."

"Miss G helped a lot," Yang said, "managed to develop a spell that can separate whatever soul magic is going on. Issue is, I can only tell Sibyl's flame, not his soul."

That interested her. That interested her a lot. Weiss stared at the soul in her hands, so… beautiful, and sighed. She'd do anything for Sibyl. Anything to have a chance of having him back.

"You're… you're the only one who can feel Sibyl like you claim. We're never going to be able to get rid of the abyss. It's a part of him, now, but we can smolder it. Bring more of Sibyl out, enough that it'll be like before."

She agreed to help, and Glynda spent the next hour teaching her everything about the spell she had developed. Soul Bind, she called it. Eventually, Weiss was seated, grasping Sibyl's soul in one of her hands, her other holding her catalyst, one that had belonged to Sibyl's old teacher, Logan.

Weiss put her all into the spell, feeling her soul energies wisp over Sibyl's. As she did so, the darkness around his pure, golden core flickered-

Sibyl had been fighting for a very long time, and he'd continue to fight. The abyss was relentless, pushing ever forward, trying to consume him. But he could feel her, feel her begging him to never give up. What was he to do but listen?

The abyss no longer won against him in their clashes. They were at a standstill. They were in another battle, now, one unlikely to result with either side winning.

Until Sibyl felt something strengthen him. It wasn't his own strength, but it enveloped him like a cloak nonetheless. It helped make the distinction of where the abyss began and where he stood just a bit more clear. His doubts vanished. The abyss was an infection, it was no part of him, and he would cull it, just like he always had. Not for himself, no, he lacked that strength. But rather, for her, she who cared for his soul like her own. And so, for the first time, he took a step forward, and the abyss took a step back-

-and it seemed to retract just a hair, and Weiss felt something that was akin to hope for the first time in a year.

We are done. Whew. It had been an incredibly long journey, and a really informative one. I've learned a lot about writing in doing this, given that I used to just dabble in short-stories. There's a lot of stuff I wish I would have done differently. A lot of stuff I'm glad I did. In the end, I'm really glad I wrote this, and glad I had the spirit to see it through. Thanks to everyone who saw this through to the end. You're probably the only reason I ever finished this.