RWBY Character Anthology

The Clock strikes 12 (Cinder)

Pretty looks; porcelain features. Beauty was the first thing she was endowed with.

Men showered her with praises; naive boys and girls falling to their knees. The golden-eyed girl smirked at their foolish bravado. Of all the pairs of eyes that fell on her, girls of her age held a distinct disdain for her presence. At first, they cornered her; demanded her to stay away or disappear from their lives.

And yet.

As their threats grew harsher, she too, grew wiser in handling such petty things. With a flick of a wrist; with a good word; she has safely whisked away from the reach of her perpetrators. And for a while, she would settle into some naive host's home, make nice and leave at the stroke of midnight. Of course, she never failed to show her gratitude to her hosts, and would always leave a note or a shoe; a blade or mark.

After a while she honed her skills, cursing her weaknesses each time along the way.

I want to be strong, she told herself.

I want to be feared.

I want to be powerful.

She denied all forms of weaknesses, as she continued to hone her skills; stealing techniques, weaving dust into clothing and analysing her opponents' weaknesses. And in her pursuit of her own growth, there, she met the one who embodied everything that she asked for.

Red veins that crawled up from her limbs to her face; her eyes emanating that other-worldly glow. Hair pinned and adorned in jewels; her clothes clad in black as she strode with majesty and integrity.

"Tell me, child," said the pale-woman. "What is your name?"

The girl smiled with a devious grin.

"My name is Cinder."