RWBY: Moon Reflection-Chapter 115: Undoing The Darkness

The air inside the small café in Mantle was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the biting chill of the outside world. Team RWBY, along with Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren, sat around a large wooden table near the window. The conversation, however, was far from lighthearted, as the group debated Crimson's recent actions and his seemingly unrestrained kindness toward Salem.

Yang leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her brow furrowed in frustration. "I just don't get it. Why is Crimson so nice to Salem? He visits her regularly, talks to her like they're old friends, and even got her a better prison cell by agreeing to act as her prison guard. Who does that?"

Ruby fiddled with her mug, her silver eyes glancing at her sister. "It is strange," she admitted, her voice softer. "But... Salem is kind of pitiful to some extent. I mean, everything she's been through—"

Yang cut in, her tone sharp. "Pitiful or not, that doesn't erase all the horrible things she's done, Ruby. Being sad about her past doesn't mean she shouldn't be judged for her crimes."

Blake, who had been quietly sipping her tea, finally spoke up. "Do you think it's possible she's... I don't know, bewitched him or something? Maybe there's more to it, something manipulating him into being so willing to help her."

Nora grinned, leaning forward on the table. "Ooooh, or maybe he likes her! I mean, stranger things have happened, right?"

Pyrrha stiffened at the comment, her green eyes narrowing. "Crimson is not like that," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the chatter. "He wouldn't act in such a manner. He's kind, yes, but that kindness has nothing to do with something as ridiculous as infatuation or manipulation."

The table grew quiet for a moment as Pyrrha's words hung in the air. Weiss, seated across from her, sighed and shook her head. "That might be the only actual explanation we will ever have. Crimson isn't exactly the most straightforward person, and he doesn't go out of his way to explain his motives."

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Ren, who had been listening quietly, finally joined the discussion. "After the war," he began, his voice calm and measured, "I have been more in tune with people's emotions. It's faint, but when I asked Crimson about Salem, I could sense something from him. It wasn't love or fascination... it was pity."

"Pity, again!" Yang repeated, her tone tired. "Where does this pity come from?"

Ren nodded. "It's not easy to explain, but it felt genuine. Whatever he sees in her, it's enough for him to act this way."

Weiss sighed again, her expression weary. "We might never understand how Crimson thinks," she said, leaning back in her chair. "He's always been different, hasn't he?" She paused, glancing around the table. "But I do have one question—do you really think he has a way to make Salem human again?"

The question caught everyone off guard, and the group exchanged uncertain glances.

Ruby tilted her head, considering. "I heard from dad Qrow, Crimson offered to remove the grimm from her body, so probably yes"

Weiss added. "I don't know if it's possible, but if anyone could find a way, it would be him. He's been so close to here, and he's... resourceful, to say the least."

Blake placed her mug down gently, her amber eyes thoughtful. "If he has been thinking about it for months, it wouldn't surprise me. But why would he want to do that? Would that change anything?"

Nora shrugged. "Maybe he thinks it'll help her. I mean, Crimson believes in change and fixing broken things, right? What if he thinks this is the way to fix her?"

Pyrrha looked down at her hands, her expression conflicted. "Crimson's reasons are always his own. He always sees what we can't, but whatever he's doing, I know it's not out of selfishness or recklessness. He's trying to do what he thinks is right."

Yang groaned, running a hand through her blonde hair. "Great. So we've got Crimson playing therapist-slash-repairman for Salem, and we're all just supposed to sit here and hope it works out?"

Ruby gave her sister a small smile. "I think it's more than that, Yang. If Crimson's doing something, there's a reason for it. We just might not understand it yet."

Weiss nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Maybe. But if he really does have a way to make her human again, that changes everything. For her, for us... for the world."

The table fell silent again as the weight of Weiss's words settled over them. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts.

_________________________

The air was tense as Crimson led the group down the dimly lit hall toward Salem's cell. In his hand, he carried a small basket covered with a cloth, the aroma of freshly baked cookies wafting from it. Following closely behind him were Team RWBY, Pyrrha, Ironwood, Qrow, and Winter, all exchanging curious and skeptical glances.

"Is he serious about this?" Yang muttered under her breath, leaning toward Ruby.

"He's Crimson," Ruby replied with a shrug. "When has he ever done something we understood right away?"

Winter frowned, keeping her voice low. "Baked goods? For Salem? This is absurd."

"He's probably trying to make her feel human," Pyrrha said softly, defending Crimson. "It's his way of reaching out."

Crimson, unfazed by the murmurs behind him, walked with purpose. The group had tagged along, not because they were needed, but because they were curious about whether Salem would accept his offer to become human again. None of them had any idea what to expect.

When they arrived at the reinforced steel cell, Crimson didn't hesitate. He entered with calm confidence, leaving the others outside to watch through the observation window. Salem, seated on the single chair in the cell, looked up as he entered, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly.

"Food?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the basket he carried.

Crimson smiled and set the basket on the small table near her. "Freshly baked cookies. I followed my mother's recipe. I thought you might find them to your liking."

Salem glanced at the cookies but didn't move to touch them. "I appreciate the gesture, but since I became... this," she gestured to herself, "I have lost the ability to taste most foods. Only bitter things have any effect on me now."

Crimson nodded thoughtfully. "I see. I'll bring you something bitter next time."

"There's no need," Salem said, her tone softening. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze searching his face. "How sure are you about this... making me human again?"

"I'm confident," Crimson replied without hesitation.

Salem took a deep breath, her expression unreadable. After a long pause, she finally said, "Very well. I'd like to try whatever you're planning."

Crimson turned toward the observing group and addressed Ironwood. "General, could you arrange for additional clothing and a sheet cover to be brought here?"

Ironwood looked confused but gave a curt nod. "Of course." He relayed the order, and soon a soldier arrived with a neatly folded set of clothing and a large white sheet. Salem remained silent, watching the entire exchange with an expression of quiet curiosity.

Once everything was ready, Crimson stepped back and looked at Salem. "Stand in the center of the cell," he instructed.

Salem rose gracefully from her chair and did as he asked, standing still in the middle of the room. The group outside the cell leaned closer to the window, their expressions ranging from worry to intrigue.

Crimson unsheathed his sword, the metallic ring echoing through the room. He closed his eyes, his breathing steady as he focused. Qrow and Ironwood's expressions shifted to alarm, both recognizing the stance he had taken.

"Crimson, stop!" Qrow shouted, his voice filled with urgency. "Don't do it!!"

Ironwood added, "Don't use that breathing"

But Crimson didn't respond. His sword began to glow a bright red, and the air around him shimmered with heat. The next moment, it was as if a torrent of fire erupted from the blade, engulfing the cell in an intense blaze. The flames danced wildly, encircling Salem, who stood motionless within the inferno.

The group outside could only watch in stunned silence, their hearts pounding. The firelight reflected off their wide eyes as they saw Crimson's form blur, moving with impossible speed within the flames.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the fire dissipated. Crimson dropped to one knee, coughing violently, blood staining the corner of his mouth.

"Crimson!" Pyrrha and Ruby shouted in unison, rushing into the cell. They knelt beside him, helping him to his feet despite his attempts to wave them off.

"I'm fine," he rasped, his voice strained.

Ignoring their protests, Crimson grabbed the sheet cover and moved toward Salem, who was still standing in the center of the cell. Her body was obscured by smoke and embers, but he carefully draped the sheet over her.

"Stay covered," he said softly, stepping back.

As the smoke cleared, the transformation became visible. Salem's skin, once pale and marred by black veins, now appeared normal and healthy. The blackness in her eyes had vanished, replaced with clear whites and bright green pupils. Her hair, previously as white as bone, was now blonde with a few streaks of white threading through it.

The group outside the cell stared in shock. This wasn't the monstrous Salem they had known. Before them stood a young, beautiful woman, unrecognizable to those who had fought against her.

Crimson reached into his pocket and pulled out a small hand mirror he prepared, handing it to Salem. "Take your time. I'll leave you to check for yourself," he said, his tone gentle.

Salem took the mirror with trembling hands, her expression a mixture of disbelief and awe as she gazed at her reflection.

Without another word, Crimson turned toward the door, his movements slow and deliberate. He glanced at the others, who were still frozen in place, and said, "Let's give her some space. She deserves a moment to herself."

Reluctantly, the group followed him out of the cell, each of them stealing one last glance at Salem. The once-feared Queen of Grimm was now something entirely different—a beautiful woman, perhaps even just a human.

As they exited, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken questions and emotions. No one dared to speak, their minds racing to process what they had just witnessed. Crimson, despite his pale complexion and clear exhaustion, walked with quiet determination.