RWBY: Moon Reflection

The weeks following the nightmare of Haven were calm for Team RWBY, Pyrrha, Nora, Ren, Qrow, Raven, and Ozpin. The group found a fragile rhythm amidst their struggles and uncertainties. Raven, gravely injured during the fight, spent weeks bedridden, her usual demeanor dampened by pain and exhaustion. Yang and Qrow were her primary companions during this time, though their reasons differed. Yang sought answers and perhaps a glimmer of reconciliation, while Qrow's loyalty as her brother compelled him to ensure she recovered. The others kept their distance, mistrust still lingering in the air.

And in the wake of all they had endured, Blake finally found the courage to face Yang. Under the weight of regret, she stood before her, voice unsteady as she apologized—not just for leaving, but for the silence that followed, for abandoning her when she needed her the most. The words spilled out, raw and desperate, but Yang didn't let her finish. With a sigh, she closed the distance between them and pulled Blake into a tight embrace, the tension melting away as she whispered, "Just don't run again." It wasn't just forgiveness—it was an unspoken promise. The moment felt like a missing piece clicking into place, and for the first time since their reunion, Team RWBY truly felt whole again.

At the same time, the younger members of the group channeled their energy into training and missions around Mistral. The region's lack of active Huntsmen had left its people vulnerable to the Grimm, and the team's presence offered much-needed relief. Days were spent patrolling outside Mistral, escorting people, and repelling Grimm attacks. These experiences hardened them further, sharpening their skills and strengthening their resolve.

After nearly a month, Raven's condition improved enough for her to leave the bed, though not without aid. The loss of her leg to Crimson's ferocity meant she relied on a walking stick for mobility. She was visibly diminished—her sharp gaze now clouded by a quiet resignation. The group, led by Ozpin, convened to discuss their next move. Trust was scarce, and Raven's position within their ranks remained tenuous. Even Qrow and Yang—those closest to her—harbored doubts.

The decision was made to retrieve the Relic of Knowledge from Haven's vault and transport it to Atlas, where it could be better protected. The group unanimously agreed that keeping the relic under Haven, with its compromised defenses and Raven's presence, was too great a risk. Raven's loyalty was questioned by all, including Qrow and Yang. Raven, for her part, didn't protest whatever choice they made. She used her Maiden powers to open the vault. As the doors parted, the group retrieved the shimmering relic, its presence a sobering reminder of the burden they carried.

Under Ozpin's guidance, the group began their journey to Argus, the next step toward Atlas. During a quiet moment on the road, Raven approached Qrow and Yang, her expression uncharacteristically hesitant. "You shouldn't trust Ozpin," she warned, her voice low but firm. Qrow's response was swift and cutting. "After everything you've been through, after everything you've done, you still haven't learned? When will you stop running?"

Raven fell silent, a mix of guilt and helplessness crossing her face. She knew her words would fall on deaf ears. Whatever she said, no one would believe her. Her resolve to change was as fragile as the trust she sought to regain, and the weight of her past hung heavily between them.

Some time later, the group finally boarded a train bound for Argus. The journey offered a brief reprieve, but danger was never far. As the train sped through the wilderness, it came under attack by Manticore Grimm. The creatures descended on the train with feral ferocity, their claws raking against the metal and their roars echoing in the confined space. The group fought valiantly, but the battle was arduous. Blades slashed, bullets flew, and semblances were used in a desperate bid to repel the relentless Grimm. Despite the difficulty, they eventually overcame the threat and reached Argus safely, their spirits bruised but unbroken.

Arriving in Argus, the group made their way to the Nikos family estate. The sprawling property exuded an air of history and prestige, its well-manicured gardens and stately architecture a stark contrast to the chaos they had left behind. Pyrrha's mother, a regal woman with the same fiery hair and kind gaze, greeted them warmly. Beside her stood Cheiron Nikos, Pyrrha's grandfather and former mentor. His grizzled appearance and commanding presence spoke of a life hard-lived, yet his eyes gleamed with a sharp intelligence.

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Later that day, Cheiron Nikos found himself speaking with Qrow and the group. The older man remarked, "I see. You have kept yourself busy," his tone laced with familiarity.

"Busy's one way to put it," Qrow replied, leaning against the wall. "Can't exactly retire when the world's falling apart."

Cheiron chuckled. "You've always had a flair for the dramatic, Qrow. You and your team were the same back then—full of fire and stubbornness."

"You know each other?" Ruby asked curiously.

Both men's eyes showed a touch of nostalgia as Qrow answered, "Back in the day, the old man was a great Huntsman, and my team, STRQ, shadowed him. I must say working with him wasn't a picnic. But the old man taught us well."

The group was surprised by the unexpected connection. Cheiron's expression softened. "I had to be harsh with you. You were a reckless bunch, but you had potential. Even Raven, for all her defiance, had a sharp mind and an instinct that couldn't be ignored."

At the mention of his sister, Qrow's gaze darkened. "She's not the same person you knew, Cheiron. She's lost her way."

Cheiron recalled Raven, who sat alone in a room since her arrival. She looked broken and pitiful. He sighed. "Perhaps. But people can change, Qrow. I've seen it happen. Just like she changed, she can go back to her old self. You need to stand by her side."

The conversation shifted as Cheiron recounted tales of his time working with Ozpin's group. "We fought battles most Huntsmen couldn't even imagine," he said, his voice tinged with both pride and sorrow. "And yet, the real war is still being fought. Salem's shadow has always loomed, but I never thought it would come to this."

"Neither did I," Qrow admitted. "But we're still here. Still fighting."

The young in the group listened attentively to their tales.

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Later in the night, the quiet of the Nikos estate was a welcome reprieve after the chaos of their journey. Pyrrha sat with her mother in the estate's parlor, the soft hum of life outside filtering in through the open windows. Her mother, poised and graceful as always, poured tea into delicate porcelain cups.

"It feels like a lifetime since we've had time to sit like this," her mother said, her voice carrying a mixture of nostalgia and warmth. "I've missed these moments with you."

Pyrrha smiled softly, her hands cradling the warm cup. "So have I, Mother. Being back here… it brings back so many memories."

The two fell into a gentle rhythm, their conversation drifting to lighter topics—memories of Pyrrha's childhood, the flowers blooming in the garden, the estate's enduring beauty. For a time, the weight of their struggles seemed to fade.

After a pause, her mother set her cup down and leaned forward slightly, her gaze curious. "Pyrrha," she began, her tone light but probing, "is there someone who has caught your eye?"

Pyrrha blinked, her cheeks tinting red. "Mother…"

"It's an honest question," her mother teased, though her smile was kind. "You've grown into a remarkable young woman, and I can't help but wonder if someone has managed to see that."

Pyrrha hesitated, her thoughts drifting unbidden to memories of a certain person, his strength, wisdom, and kindness etched into her mind. "There… may be someone," she admitted quietly, her gaze lowering. "But now isn't the time to think about such things… And he had a lot on his mind and decided to leave."

Her mother reached across the table, placing a gentle hand over Pyrrha's. "The world is in turmoil, but that doesn't mean you should deny yourself happiness. Whoever this person is, I hope they see you for who you truly are."

Pyrrha gave a small, grateful smile, but her thoughts remained conflicted.

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The next day, as the group settled into the estate, Cheiron's curiosity about his granddaughter's progress could not be contained. "Show me what you've learned, Pyrrha," he said, a challenge laced with pride. Pyrrha obliged, stepping onto the training grounds where she had spent her formative years. The sparring session was intense, a dazzling display of technique and skill. Pyrrha moved with grace and precision, her every strike calculated and her every defense flawless.

When they finished, Cheiron regarded her with unmasked admiration. "You are the greatest talent that appeared in a century," he declared, his voice brimming with pride. Pyrrha, ever humble, shook her head. "A friend I met… he surpasses me."

Cheiron's brows furrowed in curiosity. "Give yourself some credit, Pyrrha," he said. "Humility is admirable, but you have earned your place."

Qrow, who had been watching from the sidelines, stepped forward. "She's not wrong," he said, his tone carrying confidence. The others nodded in agreement, their expressions solemn.

Intrigued, Cheiron and Pyrrha's mother pressed for details about Crimson. The group recounted his feats—his actions during the fall of Beacon, his confrontation with an army at Haven, and the sheer strength he had shown. As the stories unfolded, the Nikos family's expressions shifted from mild interest to astonishment. The feats described seemed almost too incredible to believe.

"Surely, you're exaggerating," Cheiron said, though his tone lacked conviction.

"I wish we were," Qrow replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of respect and caution. "Crimson is… different. He's not like anyone you have ever met, in a league of his own."

"He is the most amazing person I have ever seen, strong and wise," Pyrrha added.

Pyrrha's mother crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful as she looked at her daughter. "And where is he now? If even half of what you say is true, then this Crimson Rose could be one of the greatest Huntsmen in history."

"He left on his own journey. With all the talents he was blessed with, he was burdened by thoughts and emotions that he couldn't process. I hope in time he will come and join us," Ozpin took over Oscar's body and added.