Through We Endure. (RWBY x OC)

Hearty Breakfast

'--///:'And so, as the last tendrils of sunlight faded, leaving the world bathed in the soft glow of a fractured moon, the story of the Boy of Stone Skin. . . came to an end.///--'

'--///:'The End.'///--'

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Hadryn traced his finger along the faded lines of the journal, his crimson eyes absorbing the familiar words. The worn leather beneath his fingertips held the imprint of countless readings, a testament to the comfort he found within its pages. He settled deeper into the chair, the weathered leather groaning in protest, and let out a soft sigh. The harsh reality of the previous night, the weight of his armor, and the gnawing emptiness in his stomach all faded away as he drifted into the world woven within the book.

He reached the final paragraph, his fingertip stopping and lingering on the simple inscription: "The End." A satisfied hum rumbled from deep within his chest after a moment, muffled slightly by the helmet. The story, though a simple fable, held a deeper meaning, a message of resilience and the power of choice that resonated with him even now. The memory of his little sisters, their faces alight with wonder as he recounted the tale for the first time, filled his mind. He could almost smell the faint scent of cocoa that lingered in the air, a reminder of the warm mugs they clutched in their small hands. He could see the flicker of the candle light dancing in their wide, eager eyes, reflecting the warmth that filled the small cabin on that cold winter night.

With the tale finished, Hadryn closed the book with a soft click. The worn leather cover felt cool and smooth beneath his gauntlet, a comforting weight in his hands. He clutched the puppy eared edges of the book in reverence. He leaned back in the chair, his gaze slowly sweeping across the dusty dorm room. The air hung heavy with the scent of stale sweat and the faint, metallic tang of blood, a lingering reminder of the previous night's attack.

A single shaft of sunlight, like a determined scout, pierced through a gap in the curtains, illuminating a lampshade of dust dancing in its warm embrace. The dust coating the books  shimmered like tiny golden coins, casting fleeting, playful shadows across the worn wooden floorboards. The floorboards themselves creaked softly beneath the weight of his unseen memories, a symphony of bygone nights spent studying, strategizing, and laughing with Ruby's  team.

The remnants of his team's day to day activity and hurried departure were scattered around – an empty mug on the table, a half-finished game of cards abandoned on the worn rug, a single red rose petal that had fallen from a forgotten bouquet, that had layed sleeping on its side beside the window, its vibrant hue a stark contrast to the muted tones of the room.

A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of Hadryn's mind, a hint of warmth flickering in his  eyes. The evidence of their presence, the small details that spoke of their camaraderie, filled him with a sense of longing. They were out there, his team, his family, venturing into the bustling heart of Vale, their laughter and carefree energy a balm to his weary soul.

But the warmth was tinged with a touch of Isolationism. He longed to be beside them, to feel the camaraderie of their shared purpose, to fight alongside them. Yet, he knew his current state wouldn't allow it. Rest, he reminded himself, was a luxury, not a necessity. He had a responsibility to heal, to be strong enough to face whatever challenges awaited them on the road ahead. 

With a newfound resolve, Hadryn straightened slightly in his chair. He placed the worn journal back onto the table with a soft thud, the familiar weight a silent promise to return to its fantastical tales later. There were more pressing matters at hand. His stomach rumbled insistently, reminding him of his neglected awareness of hunger. He glanced at the clock on the wall, its hands indicating the early hours of the morning.