//------------------------------//
// Reconnaissance (Rewritten) 
// Story: SAPR 
// by Scipio Smith 
//------------------------------//


Reconnaissance


Sunset Shimmer stood at the window of the majestic skyliner as it soared through the sky, looking down at the Vale skyline as it passed over the city towards Beacon Academy. 
The cold grey towers rose above the city streets to meet the sky, like spears lancing upwards out of the ground in a futile attempt to impale the belly of the airship that soared slowly and gracefully above them. Old towers of brick and tile with spires and capped roofs, flat and square modern towers of glass and steel, both rose above the old brick streets and the new modern apartment blocks. The skyliner flew above them one and all, casting a shadow as it passed over the Kingdom  of Vale. Out of the window, Sunset could see another skyliner running parallel to their course, and for a moment, she thought that it, too, might be headed to Beacon, but then it veered off, heading for a different destination. A commercial dockyard in the city perhaps. 
Sunset’s tail twitched back and forth as she waited with a degree of well-concealed – apart from the tail, maybe – impatience for this ship, moving slowly as it was for all its grace in motion, to reach their destination: Beacon  Academy. 
Relax, Sunset. Semester isn’t going to start without you.
But she had waited so long for this. Four years of grubbing at Canterlot to reach this place. She had endured Rainbow Dash’s mockery, Twilight Sparkle’s patronising faux-compassion, and those awful grating accents of Rarity and Applejack. She had put up with mistreatment, insult, betrayal, she had borne it all as the price that she was happy to pay to reach this place at this moment. 
This was the place where everything would start to change. The place where she would claim her destiny, at last.
She hoped.
A note of disquiet entered into Sunset’s triumphalist thoughts, chilling her heart and stopping the motion of her tail in its tracks. Could she be sure of that? Could she be certain that everything would get better for her from here on out?
She considered where she was: the Kingdom of Vale. It was not as technologically advanced or militarily mighty as the Kingdom of Atlas, not as old and proud as the Kingdom of Mistral, not as wild and untamed as the Kingdom of Vacuo. It sat in the middle of the four kingdoms of Remnant in every way, unremarkable for anything except its claim to moral leadership, born out of the sacrifices of the Great War. Beacon Academy resided in Vale, and Vale itself was a beacon of light to the rest of Remnant. Sunset had chosen Beacon in part because she had not fancied four more years of Atlesian discipline, in part because Beacon-trained huntsmen were largely acknowledged as the best in the four kingdoms, and in part because the Kingdom of Vale had a more progressive reputation than either Mistral or Atlas when it came to faunus rights. 
After what had happened in the dust shop, Sunset was having cause to wonder if appearances might be deceptive. 
That was just one man, and an old man at that. I didn’t let Princess Celestia stop me; I’m certainly not going to be balked in my quest by one old man who owns a dust shop. 
This is my last chance. I will take it and carry it all the way.
Sunset was meant to become a huntress. She had felt that ever since she had first learned about the creatures of grimm. The only alternative in this world was to become some small and meek, unmeritable thing, a person of little worth, one amongst multitudes. She could have stayed in Equestria if she had wanted such a fate. Only as a huntress would she achieve the renown that she sought, and only at Beacon could she become a huntress. 
So she would succeed here, no matter the obstacles that confronted her; she would succeed because the only alternative was failure, and she would not allow herself to fail. 
“Hey, Sunset!”
Sunset looked to her left. Ruby, the girl from the dust shop. The girl with the silver eyes. Sunset had noticed them on the night they met, when Ruby had accosted her outside of the police station; they had been an intriguing sight then, in the dark of the night, and they turned out to be no less intriguing now in broad daylight aboard this well-lit skyliner. Sunset had never seen anything quite like them before, neither in Remnant nor even in Equestria. It was strange that she should have something so unique. 
That interest didn’t particularly extend to wanting to spend time with the other girl. Sunset shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket as she half turned towards Ruby, who stood beaming up at her. “Ruby, right?”
“Uh huh,” Ruby said, nodding eagerly. She looked out of the window. “Isn’t this amazing?”
Sunset glanced out of the window once more, as the heart of Vale continued to pass by beneath them. “I…have seen more impressive cities,” she said casually. After all, she had been born and raised in Canterlot of the golden spires, the heart of Equestria and the seat of Princess Celestia herself. She had flown on a pegasus chariot above that gleaming city, circling the mountain as the golden spires glimmered and the white towers shone like pearl and silver in the morning sunlight. She had stood upon the balcony and seen the banners caught high in the morning breeze as Princess Celestia bid the sun to rise. 
Compared to that, the Kingdom of Vale could not help but seem ever so slightly banal by comparison. 
“More impressive,” Ruby repeated. “You mean…Atlas?”
“Something like that,” Sunset muttered. She glanced at Ruby. “How did you know I was from Atlas?”
Ruby shrugged. “Lucky guess,” she replied. Her gaze and attention were fixed upon the city below them. “All the same,” she continued. “Vale might not be the greatest kingdom in the world, but this view…it’s still pretty cool.”
“Really?” Sunset said, in a flat, disinterested tone of voice. “And why is that?”
“Because it’s full of people,” Ruby declared. “The people we’re going to fight to defend when we graduate and become huntresses.”
Sunset was spared the need to reply to that by a voice saying, “Aww, look, you made a friend!”
“Yang!” Ruby cried. “This is Sunset Shimmer, the girl who fought with me at the dust shop! Sunset, this is-“
“Yang Xiao Long,” Yang said, holding out one hand towards Sunset and putting the other on Ruby’s shoulder. “This little hero’s big sister.”
Yang Xiao Long was a little taller than Sunset herself, and broader in the shoulders. Her hair was spun gold, and although it was not nearly as vibrant in colour as Sunset’s two-toned flaming mane, it nevertheless looked better cared for. Her eyes were purple and twinkled jovially as she smiled. 
Sunset drew her hands from her pockets but did not take Yang’s hand. “Xiao Long? Not Rose?”
“It’s complicated,” Yang said. She wiggled her fingers. “You gonna leave me hanging out here?”
Sunset took her hand without another word. Yang had a firm grip. 
“So,” Yang said. “You’re the Sunset Shimmer I’ve heard about.”
Sunset smirked. “That depends on what you’ve heard.”
Yang chuckled. “Thanks for having her back,” she said. “I almost had a heart attack when I found out what happened. Although,” the arm around Ruby’s shoulder turned into one around Ruby’s neck, “it does mean that I get to have my little sister at Beacon with me!”
“Sunset…help!” Ruby gasped, in between choking sounds. 
Sunset snorted. “You’re on your own for this one,” she said, turning away from the pair of them and leaving them to it. As she walked away, she caught the end of a news item about the dust shop robbery, which didn’t mention either Sunset or, indeed, Ruby; it was more interested in the fact that the perpetrator, one Roman Torchwick by name, had escaped arrest. 
Roman Torchwick. I don’t know if I want to remember that name or forget about it. 
I don’t like the fact that he got away from me, but let’s be honest: he’s a crook in a big city. There’s no way that I’ll be seeing him again. 
Another news item – about the White Fang living down to their reputation – was interrupted by a hologram of the severe bespectacled woman who had accosted Sunset and Ruby outside of the dust shop. 
“Hello,” she began, “and welcome to Beacon.”



The journey to Beacon of Pyrrha Nikos could so far be described as uneventful and rather lonely. 
She had travelled from Mistral to Vale aboard a commercial skyliner; her mother had booked one of the first class staterooms for her, and after the first night of dining in the restaurant while people gawked at her, Pyrrha had gotten into the habit of taking her meals in her room. Said room was large enough that she could devote her time to a mild training while the airship carried her across the ocean and over the wild east of Sanus that had lain unclaimed by any kingdom since the end of the Great War. Nothing of any consequence had happened during the flight, unless one counted a chance encounter with a patrolling Atlesian cruiser that had kept them company for a couple of days before resuming its regular duties. She had arrived in Vale, where a room at the Hotel Majestic was waiting for her, also courtesy of her mother, until the term officially began. She had gotten the chance to see The Mistralian Opera Ghost, the new musical by Autumn Blaze, performed at the Theatre Royal, which had been a very entertaining diversion, but other than that, it had been a tale of somewhat luxurious monotony. 
The luxury was less pleasant here – not to say that this skyliner was uncomfortable; it was simply…a little plain – but the loneliness was even more pronounced.
These were her comrades, or her future comrades; these would be her fellow students here at Beacon. 
So why did she feel as alone as ever here?
Possibly it was the fact that she could hear someone whispering about her, and when she looked around, she could see that the young man in question – he had long, silver-grey hair falling straight down on either side of his sharp, narrow face – wasn’t even bothering to hide the fact that he was pointing at her, too; how rude of him. 
Pyrrha turned away and felt her head bow a little without intending it too. She had hoped that in Vale, people would be less interested in the Mistral tournament circuit. Apparently, she had been mistaken. 
The news item, about a disgraceful disruption to a peaceful civil rights protest by the White Fang, was interrupted suddenly. The news feed cut off to be replaced by a hologram of an older woman with pale blonde hair, wearing a white blouse, a black waistcoat and a ragged purple cape, with half-moon spectacles set on the edge of her nose below a pair of vivid green eyes. 
“Hello,” she said, “and welcome to Beacon. My name is Professor Glynda Goodwitch, and as Deputy Headmistress, it is my privilege to welcome you to this prestigious Academy.”
No, Professor, Pyrrha thought. It is we who are honoured by the opportunity to study at your feet.
“You are among an elite few who have received the honour of being selected to attend this hallowed institution,” Professor Goodwitch continued. “You have come from all four kingdoms of Remnant, a fact made possible by the unprecedented time of peace in which we are blessed to live, and as future huntsmen and huntresses, it will one day be your duty to defend that peace and the realms of men with it.”
Pyrrha felt her back straighten. Yes. She could not lose sight of that fact. She had come to Beacon hoping to escape, in some part, her reputation and all that it had cost her, but she could never allow herself to forget that she was also here to train in arms at the most celebrated institution for that task in the four kingdoms. It might be that her four years here were doomed to loneliness and isolation, but nevertheless, she would become a huntress and throw herself a shield between mankind and the darkness that surrounded it. 
“You have demonstrated the courage and skill needed for such a task,” Professor Goodwitch said, “and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world and fulfil the heavy charge to which you have dedicated yourselves.”
Pyrrha closed her eyes. I will fulfil it. No matter the cost. I will not disgrace myself, or the noble line of my ancestors, by turning from this path or failing to attain this goal.
I will become a huntress or die trying.
Shortly thereafter, the airship docked at the edge of the cliffs that rose above the river that cut through the heart of Vale on its way from the mountains to the sea. Pyrrha was in no particular hurry to disembark, so she politely waited for many of the other students to dismount from the airship first before she crossed the metal walkway, her boots echoing a little upon the dark surface that was all that stood between her and a very long drop, onto the docking pad.
Beacon rose above her in the middle distance, a fair walk but a far from insurmountable one. So far from insurmountable, in fact, that she felt in even less hurry to hasten any closer towards it than she had to get off the airship; she was confident she could reach the campus swiftly if she wished to. For now, Pyrrha indulged herself in soaking the sight of the place from a little further away.
It was a grand campus, and although she hadn't measured it, Pyrrha could not help but feel that it was much larger than Haven, or perhaps it was fairer to say that it sprawled more, benefiting from a position just outside the city, rather than nestling in the midst of crowded Mistral as Haven did. Beacon Tower was taller, or seemed so; it rose majestically into the clouds above until only the green lights at the very top shone through the cloud cover.
A true beacon indeed, Pyrrha thought. A light of hope to illuminate the darkness for all mankind.
All four academies did good work on behalf of humanity, but it was hard for Pyrrha to avoid the impression that Beacon – the first to be founded and still the best of the four academies – embodied most within its very stones what it meant to be a huntress.
So many great warriors have walked these halls, and each have left a little of their souls behind them here, to inspire those who came after.
Pyrrha was distracted from these musings by an explosion on the path up ahead, which alarmed her enough she reached over her back for Miló, wondering why nobody else seemed to be so alarmed, before spotting the source: some form of dust accident, loud but otherwise largely harmless.
Pyrrha was not sure whether the fact that no one else had reacted to the bang suggested that she was too jumpy or all her fellow freshmen were too complacent; for the sake of her future comrades, she decided to think less of herself: there had never been a reason to panic. This was Beacon, the light in darkness, the heart of their strength; there was no way that any true peril could penetrate the defences of the world to trouble them here.
Nevertheless, releasing her weapon and feeling grateful that she hadn't actually drawn it, Pyrrha made her way with a brisk pace over to the source of commotion. She recognised Weiss Schnee immediately; they had never met, but her music was as popular in Mistral as it was anywhere else in Remnant. Arslan had used "It's My Turn" as her music to emerge into the arena during the final of last year's tournament; it had turned out to be…less than appropriate, unfortunately. The Schnee heiress was haranguing a girl of about the same height as herself, dressed mostly in black, with a long red cape falling almost to the floor. Around them both lay scattered various cases marked with the snowflake emblem of the SDC, which appeared to have fallen from a trolley being pushed by a pair of slightly older men in suits.
"You complete and utter blockhead!" Weiss snapped as the other girl recoiled a little from her accusatory finger. "What are you even doing here? Don't you think-?"
"Is everything alright?" Pyrrha asked, as she approached. "I, uh, couldn't help but notice the explosion from just a moment ago."
Weiss looked at her, and Pyrrha guessed that Weiss had recognised her in the same way that she had recognised Weiss. "No, everything is most certainly not alright," Weiss declared. "This child has snuck her way onto the grounds and almost caused a terrible accident."
"I-I'm sorry," the other girl protested.
Weiss folded her arms. "Honestly, I think it's disgraceful. This isn't just your ordinary combat school, you know. This is Beacon Academy-"
"I'm sure she's well aware of that," Pyrrha said, quietly but firmly, "and as it seems there was no harm done, and she has already apologised, then perhaps the gracious thing to do would be to accept her apology."
Weiss stared – or rather glared – at Pyrrha. Her jaw clenched momentarily. "Apology accepted," she spat, the words sounding as though they had been wrenched out of her throat with forceps. She turned and stomped away, the heavy tread of her wedge heels echoing as they slammed into the cobblestones of the path.
Pyrrha bent down and picked up one of the fallen cases of dust. "Here, let me help you," she said to the two men in suits, who nodded as she helped them to gather up all of the discarded cases and pile them back up onto the trolley which they, once more, began to push away in the direction to the school.
"Hey, I'm Jaune."
Pyrrha looked around. It appeared that while she had been assisting the SDC employees with gathering up all of the dust, the girl in the red cloak had sunk to the ground in dejected misery, in which state someone else had approached her. Her rescuer was a tall young man, dressed in gleaming white armour over a dark hooded top, with faded blue jeans and ordinary trainers; his hair was long and blond and soft-looking, and he had…he had the most striking pair of blue eyes, set in a fair face.
As Pyrrha looked at him, holding out his hand to the girl on the ground, she thought that for all the misery of her expression, this other girl was really very lucky.
As she looked at this gallant young man, for Pyrrha Nikos, everything else fell away. Beacon  Academy melted into the river. Vale collapsed into nothingness. The girl in the red hood fell into the void, for there was nothing left for Pyrrha but those eyes. 
Look at those eyes!
Surely...surely, she had strayed into a dream. Surely, this could not be real. Surely...surely, this wasn’t happening to her. 
Pyrrha understood it now. She understood all those fairy tales. She understood how the boy could keep going into the woods, year after year, to search for the elusive warrior who dwelt there. She understood how the King could put his crown aside for the old woman. She understood the mermaid willing to give up her whole world for a prince. She understood them all because, at this moment, all that she wanted to do was sweep this young man up in her arms and carry him to Mistral, install him in her grand house and squander every last lien she had on making him happy. 
Just look at those eyes. I feel as though I could drown in them.
The hooded girl reached up and placed one small, pale hand into Jaune's palm. "Ruby," she said, "and this is, uh-" She turned to Pyrrha, and then stopped expectantly.
Pyrrha said nothing; she was too enthralled to speak, too lost in fascination, too-
“Uh, is everything okay?” asked Ruby.
“Oh, y-yes!” Pyrrha cried quickly, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment. "Pyrrha," she added quickly, not giving her surname as it sunk in, rather thrillingly, that neither of them knew who she was. "My name is Pyrrha. It's a pleasure to meet you. Both of you."
Jaune looked into her eyes.  His eyes narrowed just a little, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to one side. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Once upon a dream? "I...I...I wouldn't know," Pyrrha replied disingenuously. "I'm not sure how," she added, hoping that the lie wouldn't show on her face. "I don't believe we've met before."
"No, " Jaune said. "I guess…I don't know what I was thinking."
"Thanks for your help back there," Ruby said. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."
"Of course not," Pyrrha said kindly. "Although…I must confess, you do look rather young to be attending Beacon."
Ruby bowed her head, murmuring something indistinct.
"I'm sorry," Pyrrha added quickly. "I didn't mean to…what I meant to say was that you have a very youthful face."
"No," Ruby moaned. "I…I'm only fifteen years old. I'm here two years early."
"What, like to visit?" Jaune asked.
"I think what Ruby means is that she was admitted to the academy two years early," Pyrrha clarified.
Jaune's handsome blue eyes widened. "Really? Two years early! You must be a complete badass to have done that!"
Pyrrha might not have used those exact words, but she was inclined to agree. Early admission to the academies was very rare; so rare, in fact, that she couldn't think of a single Mistralian warrior to win the honour. Ruby must have impressed someone very important a great deal.
However, she did not seem pleased to receive Jaune's praise. "This is just what I was afraid of. Everyone's going to think I'm just some stupid kid, or they're going to think I'm special."
"But it sounds like you are special,” Jaune pointed out.
"But that doesn't mean I have to want to be!" Ruby cried. "What if I want to be just like everyone, just…"
"Normal," Pyrrha finished for her.
Ruby looked at her. "Yeah. How did you-"
Pyrrha knelt down, so that she and Ruby were at more of a height. "I understand that you want to be seen for who you are, not what you are, but at the same time, to deny the tremendous skill that has carried you this far is to deny a part of who you are, for your skill in battle is a part of yourself, and a worthy part at that. And you know that, don't you? Or did somebody force you to attend Beacon?"
Ruby's eyes – her striking eyes of silver, gleaming like pools of mercury – locked with Pyrrha's own. A smile tugged at Ruby's lips. "No. I chose to be here. I want to become a huntress, and the quicker I can get to Beacon, the quicker I can graduate and get out there and start playing my part." She paused. "Sorry," she said. "That sounded a little-"
"It sounded very brave, and fitting of a huntress in training," Pyrrha assured her. She rose to her feet, and looked from Ruby to Jaune. "For what are we here for, save to place our bodies between humanity and the dark?"
Jaune nodded. "Just like the ones who came before us. It's our turn now."
"Agreed," Pyrrha said. She looked around. It appeared that while they had been standing here, the crowd off the airship had moved on around them and without them. They were the last people in sight. Everyone else had headed towards the school. "We should probably get moving," Pyrrha suggested.
The other two agreed, and the three of them set off down the path towards the school, Ruby in between Jaune and Pyrrha as they passed beneath the stone arches that encircled the great courtyard. The architecture was not as modern as Pyrrha had been expecting; in Mistral, many buildings were consciously old-fashioned in design, but she had not thought that that would be the case in Vale, and yet, Beacon Academy was fashioned as the creation of an earlier age, the towers seemed like something out of a storybook. It was really quite charming.
Pyrrha realised that she had allowed herself to get distracted by that thought and missed what Ruby and Jaune had just said. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just…what were you saying?"
"Nothing," Jaune said quickly, before Ruby could respond. "Just, uh, nothing at all."
"We were discussing nicknames," Ruby supplied.
"Which we don't need," Jaune insisted. "The name's Jaune. Just Jaune. Well, okay, it's actually Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue, ladies love it."
Pyrrha giggled a little, covering her mouth with one hand as Ruby asked, "Do they?"
I don't know if I love it, Pyrrha thought, but it's certainly quite pleasant to the ear.
"Well, I, uh…" Jaune trailed off. "So, Pyrrha, what were you spacing out about?"
"Oh, nothing," Pyrrha replied. "I was just admiring the scenery."
"It is pretty cool," Ruby agreed. "Like a fairytale castle or something."
"Huh. I wouldn't have thought about it like that, but now that you mention it…yeah, I can see it," Jaune agreed. "Pretty appropriate really: a place of gallant knights, brave heroes, and beautiful princesses."
Ruby looked at him. "Are you saying the princesses can't be as brave as the heroes?"
"No!" Jaune protested. "I'm just saying…so, Ruby, just how did you get into Beacon early anyway?"
"Oh, you know, I just saw somebody in trouble and tried to help," Ruby replied, without really explaining anything. "Me and my Crescent Rose were able to do some good, and, I guess Professor Ozpin took notice."
"'Crescent Rose,'" Pyrrha repeated. "Is that the name of your weapon?"
"Yep," Ruby said, as she produced from behind her back what looked at first like a squat, boxy red carbine, before it unfolded with a series of mechanical clicks and hydraulic hisses into a scythe with a shaft taller than Ruby herself.
Jaune stared at it. "That…is that a scythe?"
"And a sniper rifle," Ruby said proudly. "What about you guys?"
In a series of well-practiced, fluid motions, Pyrrha drew Miló from across her back and then pulled Akoúo̱ onto her other arm. "Akoúo̱, my shield," she declared. "It's exactly what it looks like, but Miló can switch from spear-" the weapon shifted smoothly in her hands – "-to sword-"- another transformation- "-to rifle." Miló shifted one more time, back to spear form.
"Triple changer," Ruby whispered, awestruck. "And so fluid."
"Those are both so cool," Jaune said, sounding a little dispirited. "All I have is, well, this sword." He drew the blade from his scabbard. "It doesn't do anything, it's just a hand-me-down. My great-great-grandfather used it to fight in the war."
"Sounds more like a family heirloom," Ruby said.
"I guess," Jaune said. "But, well, compared with what you two are carrying around…" He glanced down at his venerable blade with a degree of undisguised disappointment.
Pyrrha's brow furrowed a little. "May I?" she asked, holding out both hands.
"Uh, sure," Jaune said, handing over the sword, laying it atop her gloved palms.
Pyrrha looked down and studied it. There was a little rust coating the blade; it didn't look as though it had been terribly well maintained in the years since Jaune's great-great grandfather, but at the same time, rust could always be cleaned off to reveal the true steel underneath. She closed her fingers around the hilt and felt the balance of it. It was a well-balanced blade, very well balanced, in fact. She stepped away from Ruby and Jaune so that she would swing the sword around a little more easily, passing readily from stance to stance, the sword singing in her hands.
She smiled slightly as she handed the blade back to a rather awed-looking Jaune. "It could do with a little cleaning," she informed him gently, "but that is a fine blade, Jaune Arc. You should bear it proudly."
Jaune continued to stare at her in disbelief. "R-right," he said, taking the sword and shoving it back into its scabbard. “Oh, and I’ve also got this sheath, too; it turns into a shield.” Said shield unfurled like a banner with a popping sound, displaying a crest of two golden crescents emblazoned upon it. “It still weighs the same, but-”
“But compactness counts for a lot out in the field, too,” Ruby assured him. “That’s why Crescent Rose has its carbine mode.”
Eventually, they made their way to the amphitheatre, where they found most of the student body was already assembled and waiting for their instructions. With a cry of "Yang!" Ruby quickly sped off towards a girl with long hair of vivid yellow who waved excitedly to her.
"I suppose it's just you and me then," Pyrrha said to Jaune, only to realise that he was wandering off as well, in the direction of Weiss Schnee, without a second glance at her.
"Oh. I suppose it's just me then," Pyrrha murmured. And yet, all the same, she was not as disheartened as she might have been at having been so quickly and so easily abandoned.
Neither of them had known who she was. Neither of them had even connected the name of Pyrrha to Pyrrha Nikos, the Champion of Mistral. She had simply been Pyrrha to them, and they had not rejected her.
And so, as she found a place to stand in the amphitheatre, Pyrrha thought of a pair of handsome blue eyes and found that she had started humming to herself beneath her breath.
She didn't want to stop.



Sunset Shimmer stood in a corner of the great hall and watched her competition as they filed in.
She tried to, anyway. She had chosen a good vantage point in the back, equally far from the doors and the front, so that she could observe everybody without herself being observed. But this hall was so dimly lit, illuminated only by green lines around certain sections of the floor and wall, that most of the other aspiring hunters and huntresses walking in seemed more like shadows than people to her eyes. Seriously, couldn't they turn up the lights a little? She couldn't see a thing, just vague silhouettes in the half-light and the occasional flash of bright colour: the bright red of Ruby's cape; the vivid yellow of Yang's hair; the shining white dress of Weiss Schnee, Atlas' very own princess.
And then he walked in. She recognised him, even in the dark. She'd recognise that blue hair anywhere, combined with that stupid clueless grin and the walk of someone who thought he was much cooler than he actually was. Sunset's breath caught in her throat as he started to come towards her. She both did and didn't want him to spot her. Did she really want to do this now? But wasn't it better to get it over with rather than spend four years looking over her shoulder for the other shoe to drop? Anger and apprehension warred within her like dragons of fire and ice, lighting her stomach up with righteous wrath and freezing it with fear in cycles of ebb and flow.
He didn't recognise her. Or perhaps he was just as blind as everyone else in this dimly lit hall, and he couldn't see her properly. Whichever it was, for whatever reason, he turned his back on her.
"You." The word leapt from between Sunset's lips before she could stop it; the affront – unintentional or not – of him showing his back to her was too much to stand for. By Celestia, there was no way she was going to let him go his way in blissful ignorance while she had to feel awkward about this! If she was going to feel awkward, then so would he!
Flash Sentry turned around, his initial look of puzzlement transforming into a look of shock that Sunset could appreciate more. "Sunset, uh, hi," he said in a tone that sounded less ‘cool’ and more ‘desperately trying to play it cool’; the way he was scratching the back of his head didn't help in that regard. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."
Sunset folded her arms. "Yeah? I bet you weren't."
Flash scowled. "For your information, Sunset, not everyone is obsessed with what you do or don't do."
"What, did you think I was going to go to Atlas?" Sunset demanded. "Why didn't you go to Atlas? You could join the military and let your mother get you a nice, safe job opening doors for VIPs."
Flash's expression was as flat as an anvil. "My mother doesn't own me, Sunset, any more than you do. Not that it's any of your business, but I decided to come to Beacon because I want to be the one who decides what good I do in the world and where I go to do it. I don't want to let anyone else decide that for me: not my mother, not even a good man like General Ironwood." He paused, and then added a last few venomous words. "And not you, either."
Sunset snorted. "Whatever." She looked away, casting her green eyes downwards towards the dark floor. "Just stay out of my way, okay? I'm not going to let anyone screw this up for me." My destiny is here. My entire life has been building to this place, this moment. If I can't make it here…then it was all a lie, and Celestia was right, and I was nothing more than a fool believing in fairy tales I should have outgrown a long time ago.
I won't let that happen. I won't let that be my fate.
I will succeed. I will shine. And I won't let my jackass ex-boyfriend get in my way.
Flash's tone simulated tenderness, as if he wanted her to believe that he cared or something. "Sunset…do we have to do this?"
"Do what?"
"Fight like this? Can't we start over?"
Sunset's eyebrows rose as she waited for the punchline. There wasn't one. He was serious, or he wanted her to think that he was serious. She scoffed. "Really? Are you…really?"
"It's going to be pretty awkward otherwise, don't you think?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?" Sunset demanded. "You dumped me! You dumped me because your mother and your friends and that hypocritical hussy Twilight Sparkle made you ashamed of dating a faunus! You dumped me because it was easier than standing up for me, you jackass, and now, you want to start over!" She was halfway to shouting now, and a few people were starting to stare at them. Sunset didn't care. Let them stare; she had nothing to be ashamed of.
Flash, on the other hand, did look embarrassed; as well he might, since he had plenty to be ashamed of. "Sunset, please, don't do this. You know that's now how it went down."
Sunset was full of righteous indignation. She had so much that she wanted to say that the words were clogging up her throat and getting stuck there in their jostling to escape. Should she tell him that he'd been the one person in that school that she thought that she could trust, the one person who'd stand up for her against the bullies and the bigots? Should she tell him that she had allowed herself to believe, for the second time in her life, that someone was unequivocally on her side and had for the second time been disappointed and betrayed? Should she just tell him that when he dumped her like garbage, she'd lost what little shreds of status she'd possessed and become garbage in the eyes of the rest of the student body?
So many things that she burned to say, and she didn't even care if she said them where the whole of Beacon could hear her…but then the fire within her burned itself out, and she was left with nothing but ashes and exhaustion. What did it matter? He wasn't going to change, and did she really want to get a reputation as an angry faunus on her first day at Beacon? She'd already caught people staring at her, or even giving her side-eye, on the airship ride over here. She didn't care what they thought, except inasmuch as it might inhibit her progress towards the success she deserved.
Sunset let out a deep sigh. "Thank you, Flash."
"Huh?"
"For reminding me why trusting other people is a bad idea," Sunset whispered.
Flash stared at her for a moment, his face a tempest of warring emotions battling for mastery of his expression. "I didn't break up with you because…," he began. "I…never mind. It's probably best if we stay out of each other's way."
"Don't say that," Sunset muttered.
Flash paused in the act of turning away. A frown creased his brow. "Why not?"
"Because now that you've said it, irony will dictate that we're bound to end up on the same team together."
Flash's eyes widened with horror, before a chuckle escaped him.
Sunset sniggered too, and for a moment, she remembered why she'd kinda liked hanging out with him, why she'd even let her guard down enough to start to care about him in the first place. She remembered the way he'd laugh at her jokes, the way he'd take her cruising in his car, the way he'd let her sit on the roof of said car while he went into stores that wouldn't serve faunus and bought the things they wouldn't sell to her.
However, that was all gone now. He'd destroyed it.
Which was why she straightened her back and pointedly looked away from him, even if her eyes kept flickering back to see if he was still there.
He didn't say another word as he turned away from her and walked into the dark of the hall, probably in search of a cute, quirky girl to talk to somewhere else.
Sunset tried to resume her reconnaissance of her fellow students – who were the ones to watch out for, who were the ones who could be dismissed as non-entities – but she'd missed a lot of people coming in while she'd been distracted with Flash, and it was still dark in here.
Rumours were already flying around the school about Ruby Rose; nobody knew who she was, but everyone seemed to know that a prodigy had been admitted to the school two years early on the strength of her incredible skills. Arguably worse, she was being joined this year by some Mistralian hot-shot who had never lost a battle in her life. Either Ruby or this new girl would have been a worry to Sunset, but to face both of them at once had her cursing her bad luck. She would have to work twice as hard, at least, to shine in competition with the likes of them.
But if there was one thing that being Celestia's student had taught her – besides not to trust those who claimed to have your best interests at heart but really just wanted to hold you back – it was how to work hard. If there was one thing that being a faunus in Atlas had taught her – besides hammering home the lesson not to trust – it was the necessity of working twice as hard for half as much credit. She could and she would do this, and she would do it splendidly, no matter how many peerless prodigies tried to get in her way.
Sunset cast her eyes over the crowd – those whose distinguishing features she could make out anyway – and tried to spot the other, non-Ruby, paragon amidst the mass of students. Doubtless, they were extremely cool and aloof, as befit their elite status, standing apart from the chattering children around them, but Sunset couldn't make out anybody like that at first glance.
But they had to be here somewhere, unless the rumour mill was completely mistaken.
Or I could be completely mistaken, I suppose. After all, you couldn't describe Ruby Rose as cool or aloof.
No, she's not at all what I would have expected her to be.
The lights rose, and the whine of a microphone attracted the attention of all those present in the amphitheatre. Professor Ozpin stood on the stage, with Professor Goodwitch standing just behind and to his side. He cleared his throat.
Sunset peeled herself off the wall and straightened up. Her second meeting with Professor Ozpin, and his pointed advice to her before the start of term, had not done much to make her more certain what to make of him. He had a great reputation, to be sure: the youngest man to ever be appointed a headmaster in the history of the four Huntsman Academies, the saviour of Vale after the fall of Mountain Glenn, and before that, all his other achievements in the field…but Celestia could boast many grand achievements too. It didn't make her any less of a lying, manipulative old spider. Just the memory of Professor Ozpin looking into her eyes was enough to make her shiver.
His speech didn't do much to reassure her. It wasn't that it was a bad speech, per se. When you boiled it down, it was not that much different from the kind of speeches that Princess Celestia gave every year to the new students at her School for Gifted Unicorns: school can only help you find your path, you have to do the hard work yourself, take your future into your own hands, et cetera. All the lies that she had fed to Sunset, all the lies that she had fed to who knew how many other unicorns through the years to make them docile instruments. But the way Ozpin said it was…off, somehow. Sunset had never known Celestia to start off one of her speeches by insulting the student body.
Wasted energy? You talked to each and every one of us before you let us in here; if you thought we were useless, why did you extend offers?
Is this supposed to motivate us to surpass your expectations?
If it is…it's kind of working on me. Few things, Sunset had discovered, motivated her more than being counted out.
Ozpin didn't stick around long after his remarkably unwelcoming welcome speech, and it was left to Professor Goodwitch to direct them all towards the ballroom – how many parties did this school have that it needed a purpose-built ballroom? – before their initiation on the morrow.
Sunset trailed at the back of the ground on their way to the ballroom, continuing to observe without putting herself in a position to be observed in turn. She chose a rear-corner spot in the spacious ballroom and watched as most of the students got changed for bed. It was interesting; when she'd first come to this world, she'd been surprised by the cultural taboos surrounding nakedness, as well as the way in which viewing someone - especially someone of the opposite sex - in any kind of state of undress was practically forbidden except in cases of great intimacy. And yet, here they were, stripping down without a care in the world: half-naked boys wrestled playfully, and the two sexes ogled each other without a trace of shame. It almost reminded her of home, where only the most stuck-up bothered to dress in any but the most formal of settings.
Sunset turned her mind away from these fascinating sociological observations and continued to try to spy out the competition. She had chosen a spot not far away from a subdued, raven-haired girl with a black bow in her hair, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion as Sunset: that this was the quiet corner. With barely a second glance at Sunset, she sat down with her back against the wall, got out a book, and started reading.
Sunset looked at her out of the corner of her eyes. Could this be the peerless warrior that Sunset had heard whispers of? She had the cool and aloof act down perfectly.
Of course, there was no way to be certain. Sunset furrowed her brow a little. The truth was, it was impossible to say on the basis of interactions in this setting. At the moment, all she had was speculation, and speculation was - as she had been taught - the enemy of fact-based scholarship. It wasn't enough to think or believe things to be true unless she could prove it.
Except why am I here, if not chasing a belief that has no basis in proof or fact?
Sunset scowled at the mental reproof. She had proof. Her power was the proof, all the proof that she required. Her actions would soon be all the proof the world required.
And the actions of those around her would be the proof of what they were. It was pointless to guess with whom she needed to be concerned, better to keep her eyes open and mark those whose behaviour ought to concern her.
Inspired a little by the girl silently reading beside her, Sunset got out her journal. Technically speaking, it was so much more than just a journal: it was a magical conduit, joined by a spell to another, identical, book in Canterlot, in Princess Celestia's keeping. Her old teacher had enchanted it so that they could communicate even when they were apart, when Celestia was on a state visit to Manehattan or Sunset was on a field trip. She wasn't honestly sure if the spell still worked. 
Mostly because she hadn’t written anything in it since coming to this world. 
Sunset had thought about it from time to time: when she was feeling particularly low after Flash had dumped her; when she was feeling particularly scared after discovering what kind of a world she was trapped in; when, as tonight, she was feeling particularly triumphant.
She had never actually done so. She had never actually been able to bring herself to take that step, to humble herself so much, to bring herself so low and it would bring her low though she wrote in the midst of her most dazzling success.
And so the pages went unwritten, as they would tonight. 
"Hey, Sunset."
Sunset's tail twitched, and she slammed the journal shut at the sound of Ruby's unmistakable voice approaching. She rolled over onto her back to see that, yes, it was Ruby Rose, approaching diffidently, her hands clasped together in front of her.
"Ruby," Sunset said, her voice calm and even, "is there something I can do for you?"
"I just…" Ruby hesitated for a moment. "I wondered what it was you were reading."
"I wasn't," Sunset replied. "I was just…writing something in…in my journal."
"Oh, you keep a journal?" Ruby inquired eagerly. "That's cool."
"Is it?" Sunset asked. "It isn't…I mean I don't…" she glanced at the black haired girl beside her, who seemed a little irritated by the conversation going on so close to her. "This girl, on the other hand, is reading a book if you're looking for recommendations."
The girl with the bow in her wild, tangled hair gave Sunset a glare out of the corner of her golden eyes. Sunset smirked.
"Hey there," Ruby said, in a tone of affable nervousness. "I'm Ruby."
The ivory-skinned beauty looked at her over the top of her book. "Blake," she said, in the flattest of all possible tones.
"Nice to meet you," Ruby said.
Blake didn't say anything.
"So…what is your book about?" Ruby asked.
Blake was silent for a moment longer. "It's about a girl with only half a soul, after the other half is stolen by a wicked sorcerer. She can't truly feel anything or understand anyone, and in consequence, even her best intentions go awry and lead to great sorrow and suffering."
Ruby frowned. "That sounds…terrible," she murmured. "What happens to her in the end?"
"I don't know," Blake said. "I haven't finished it yet."
Ruby ignored that rather pointed remark. "I love books," she said. "Yang – that's my big sister – used to read to me every night before bed. Stories about monsters and the heroes who fought them. They're one of the reasons I wanted to be a huntress."
Blake scoffed. "And why is that? Hoping you'll live happily ever after?"
"Who doesn't hope for that?" Ruby replied. "I hope that we all will. When I was a child, I wanted to be just like those heroes in the books: someone who fought for what was right and protected people who couldn't protect themselves."
"That's very ambitious, for a child," Blake observed, "but, unfortunately, the real world isn't a fairytale."
“I know,” Ruby admitted, with just a touch of quiet melancholy in her voice. “But...isn’t that why we’re here?”
"Who says the real world isn’t a fairytale?" Sunset demanded.
Blake glanced at her. "Excuse me?"
"I mean who says that?" Sunset repeated. "Where is it set down in immutable law that it must be so? Why must we succumb to despair?"
"It's not despair to face reality," Blake said.
"It is despair to equate reality with despond," Sunset declared. "To give up on our happiness, to turn away from dear ambitions and submit to the chains of mud and meanness that would bind us to this common earth. We are more than the dust from which mankind was born. We have such power in us as to lift the moon out of its sphere. We can do whatever we want, provided that we have the courage and the will to try." 
She looked at Ruby. "Don't let anyone tell you the world isn't a fairytale. The world can be whatever you want it to be. We write our own stories. Nobody else can write them for you, nor force you to be anything less than the hero of your own life, though some may try.
"But you can't let them. You must never let them take that power from you. Never."



"Ahem."
Pyrrha turned around, Miló in one hand and Akoúo̱ in the other, having just retrieved them from her locker. Weiss Schnee stood beside her, looking up at Pyrrha with a somewhat diffident expression.
Pyrrha swung her shield onto her back and wedged her spear into the gap between back and shield. "Yes, Miss Schnee?"
"Please, Pyrrha, call me Weiss," Weiss said, managing to sound just a little more at ease than she looked. She coughed into her hand. "I…feel as though I ought to apologise for the way that I was acting yesterday. I was a little nervous, first day at a new school, you know how it is, I'm sure."
"I do," Pyrrha allowed, "but I don't think that I'm the one in need of an apology."
Weiss pouted as she realised who Pyrrha was talking about. "But she's one who set off that explosion!"
"That was an accident," Pyrrha pointed out.
Weiss scowled. "I…suppose you may be right. I…I'll think about it. Nevertheless, I feel as though you didn't see me at my best yesterday. I'd hate for you to get the wrong impression about me."
Pyrrha hesitated. "I…see," she said quietly. "Although I don't really understand why my impression of you should matter all that much."
Weiss chuckled. "Come now, Pyrrha, there's no need to be modest, we both know that in the world of huntsmen and huntresses, your name carries just as far as mine, maybe further."
Pyrrha took a deep breath. "Perhaps," she admitted. Although that doesn't mean I have to like the fact. "If it means that much to you, then I accept your apology."
"Thank you," Weiss said, with a grateful curtsy. "Now, have you given any thought at all to whose team you'd like to be on?"
Pyrrha did not rate herself as any great judge of people, but Weiss was so transparent that she could practically see the Schnee heiress's mind working. "I…have a couple of ideas," she admitted. She would rather not say more to Weiss than that.
"Really?" Weiss asked. "Only a couple? Because on a team of four, I was thinking that maybe you and I could be on the same team together."
"Speaking of teams," Jaune said, appearing from…somewhere to slide in between Weiss and Pyrrha. "I was thinking that you and I might make a pretty good team."
Pyrrha could not help but feel a little disappointed at the fact that he was saying this to Weiss, not her. "Actually," she said, "as Weiss was just saying, teams are composed of four members."
That got Jaune's attention. "Oh, hey, Pyrrha, right?"
Pyrrha smiled. "Hello again, Jaune Arc."
He smiled back. He had a very lovely smile, so eager and lively and earnest. "Four members, huh? Well…you, me, Ruby and Weiss. Four teammates, it's perfect."
"In what world does putting me on the same team as you and that dolt equal anything close to perfect?" Weiss growled. She stalked around Jaune until she was standing between him and Pyrrha. "You have no idea who we are, do you?"
Jaune blinked. "I know that she's Pyrrha, and you're…Weiss?"
Weiss sighed. "My name is Weiss Schnee, as in the Schnee Dust Company, as in the largest supplier of dust in the world.”
“That sounds very impressive, Snow Angel.”
Weiss rolled her eyes. “And this is Pyrrha Nikos."
Pyrrha closed her eyes. Here it comes. At least it was nice while it lasted, I suppose.
"Pyrrha graduated top of her class from Sanctum Combat School," Weiss explained, and Pyrrha found herself perversely glad that Weiss was an Atlesian, because it meant that she was listing achievements of which Pyrrha could be at least somewhat proud, because she'd earned them through hard work. A Mistralian probably would have started with her lineage.
"Never heard of it," Jaune said.
"She's won the Mistral Regional Tournament four years running, a new record," Weiss declared.
"The what?" Jaune asked.
Weiss growled. "She's on the front of every box of Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Flakes!"
I wish I'd never agreed to do that cereal promotion, Pyrrha thought.
"I knew I recognised you from somewhere!" Jaune cried. "You're the girl on the cereal box?"
"As it happens…yes," Pyrrha admitted. "Unfortunately, the cereal isn't very good for you." Nor can I honestly say that it tastes good. It had been rather vomit-inducing when she'd actually tried it. Pyrrha had no idea how it managed to sell so well.
"So, after hearing all this," Weiss continued, "do you really believe that you are in a position to claim a spot on a team with either of us?"
Jaune hesitated for a moment, before he bowed his head. "I guess not."
Weiss sniffed. "Hmph. At least you're not completely devoid of self awareness." She began to stalk away, only to stop and look back over her shoulder at him. "And Jaune? It's Miss Schnee to the likes of you." The sound of her heels clicking on the locker room floor was the only sound as she walked away.
Jaune remained, head bowed, back ever so slightly bent, arms hanging down in front of him.
Pyrrha pursed her lips. "She didn't need to be so hard on you."
Jaune looked up at her. "Did you really do all that stuff? Graduate at the top of your class, win a whole bunch of tournaments?"
"Does it matter?" Pyrrha asked. "I'm the same person I was yesterday."
"I guess, but…you must think I'm such an idiot."
"I don't think you're an idiot, Jaune," Pyrrha said. "I think you're very kind. You stopped to help Ruby when you didn't have to, even though everyone else passed her by."
"Kindness doesn't make a huntsman," Jaune replied.
"Skill at arms can be used for good or ill," Pyrrha countered, "but a kind heart will shine in the darkest of places. Don't despair, not when our journey has only just begun." She smiled. "Now, did you clean your sword?"
Jaune hesitated. "Uh…"
"Hand it over," Pyrrha said. "I'll see what I can do while we still have time."



"WAKE UP, LAZY BUD!"
Sunset's eyes snapped open and she started to sit up before she realised that the command was not directed at her. Rather, a diminutive redhead was haranguing a young man with a streak of pink in his black hair. Nevertheless, as the aforementioned redhead started singing about how it was morning - yes, we know, give it a rest already, for Celestia's sake - Sunset got up, because if it was time to roll over, then it was time to roll out and do something productive with your time.
Besides, she wasn't wholly ungrateful to the other girl. She had woken her from dreams about Celestia that Sunset did not particularly want to have.
Sunset showered, dressed, and ate in silence and in solitude; her head was bowed so as not to attract attention but not bent so low that she couldn't see everything going on around her. A couple of people glanced at her, and a big guy with some kind of bird embossed upon his cuirass loudly wondered why they allowed animals to attend Beacon. So much for the progressive and enlightened Kingdom  of Vale – between him and the dust shop guy, the liberal pretensions of the light of the world were really taking a beating – but as long as the teachers themselves weren't down on her, it would be nothing Sunset Shimmer couldn't handle.
Even if the teachers were down on her, it would be nothing Sunset Shimmer couldn't handle after Canterlot.
After breakfast, it was time to head to the lockers, where Sunset wouldn't say that she lurked so much as she would say that she happened to be standing in a relatively secluded part of the locker room where she took her time buckling on her breastplate and loading rounds into Sol Invictus. The breastplate wasn’t much in the way of armour; it only protected…well, her chest, exactly like the name suggested, but she couldn’t afford much better, and if her aura broke, it would be better than nothing. As Sunset put it on, and as she slowly slid her six shots into the cylinder, she just so happened to be in a good position to listen to what was going on around her.
Most of what she heard was inconsequential nonsense. She learned that the chatty redhead - who went by Nora - really wanted to go out with the stoic boy - name of Ren - but didn't have the guts to admit it straight up, and he was either too clueless or too disinterested to pick up on the hints that she was giving off. She learned that Yang didn't seem to want to be on a team with Ruby, who drank milk and didn't like other people very much; Sunset knew the feeling well.
About the only useful thing she learned was the name of the undefeated fighter who had joined the freshman class: Pyrrha Nikos, a girl who seemed content to let others recite her achievements for her as she feigned modesty. Sunset was reminded of Twilight Sparkle back at Canterlot, who had likewise always possessed flunkies in abundance to blow her trumpet for her while she affected the humility of a true princess. Sunset fought to control her feelings of resentment, revelation of which would do her no good at this early stage. Later, when she had taken from Pyrrha all the things that rightfully belonged to Sunset - fame, glory, the acclaim of peers and strangers alike, fawning adulation, a reputation that echoed far and wide, her face on a box of obesity-inducing breakfast cereal - then would be the time to revel in her triumph and reveal just what had driven Sunset on. But not yet. For now, all that she could do was smoulder in silence as Pyrrha revelled in the attentions paid to her by her admirers.
One day, Sunset vowed. One day, it will be my turn.
She waited until the locker room was clear before leaving, trailing after the other students as they made their way to a cliff edge on the boundary of the school grounds. Said cliffs overlooked a vast and wild expanse of woodland appropriately named the Emerald  Forest, where the dense cover of the trees embraced the land for miles, concealing everything that might lurk within, no matter how large or wild or deadly.
Professor Ozpin, with Professor Goodwitch once more at his side, explained the test: they were going to be thrown through the air into a monster-infested forest where they had to find ‘relics' and get back in one piece.
Am I the only one who wonders, if we survive this, what the point of spending four years at this academy is? Sunset thought. Probably something to do with those virtues Professor Ozpin was telling me about at the police station.
There was also the question of teammates: whomever they locked eyes with in the forest first would be their partner for the next four years. The utter randomness of the process was frustrating, but at the same time, it spared Sunset having to actually make up her mind about what kind of partner she wanted. Her thoughts oscillated back and forth between desiring a sap whom she could dominate with her strength of will and bend to her own purposes, or else someone who would be an asset in her progression through the school. She didn't want to have her grades dragged down by being shackled to a dolt.
I've come here to find my destiny; I suppose that means I should be willing to leave a few things in the hands of fate.
And then the pad beneath her feet exploded, and Sunset was flung upwards and through the air.
The world spun around her. Her ears were filled with the whistling of the wind and the screaming of at least one other person in a similar position to herself. Sunset's hair flew all around her, and she had to grab the sling of Sol Invictus and hold on tight to keep from losing her weapon on only her second day.
Sunset would have been lying if she'd said that she enjoyed the sensation, what with her face being squashed by the air pressure and all, but she was not afraid. This was the first test, after all, and she was not about to disappoint.
You want a landing strategy, Professor? I'll show you a landing strategy.
Sunset forced her eyes open, kept them fixed on the ground that was rushing towards her, and reached for magic.
The magic of Remnant was not as omnipresent as it was in Equestria; the air did not hum with it, the land did not bask in it, the trees did not drink deep of it, but it was here, and it was within her, and she could draw it out. She was not so strong as she had been in Equestria but - and to Tartarus with false modesty - considering that she'd had more raw power and magical potential than any unicorn since Starswirl's day, that drop didn't handicap her as much as it could have done.
For instance, she could still teleport just fine.
And in a flash of bright green light, that was exactly what she did.
Sunset experienced a momentary sensation of being squeezed through the eye of a needle, her whole body compressing in on itself in some eldritch dark dimension, before she emerged in a second flash of light with her feet on the floor of the Emerald  Forest.
Sunset's breath came fast and deep, her chest rising and falling like the undulations of a hilly country. Some acts of magic cost more than others, and even in Equestria, teleportation was one of the most demanding. It wasn't something she could keep doing thoughtlessly.
Nevertheless, if the world had been just to someone with bestial features, Sunset would have been feted and admired for having a semblance as versatile as her command of magic. It wasn't actually her semblance, true; in fact, Sunset hadn't unlocked her semblance yet, but magic in this seemed to be something nobody was quite aware of, so Sunset had found it easiest to couch her abilities in terms the locals could understand. But the world was not fair, and so Rainbow Dash, whose only gift was the ability to run fast, had been the darling of the school while she, Sunset, languished in contempt. Not that she was bitter about it or anything, but if she came across Rainbow Dash again...
Sunset was pulled out of her thoughts by the sounds of running feet approaching her at great speed.
She looked. She could see nothing but the bushes and trees of the forest that surrounded her, but those feet were definitely getting closer.
The tread is too light to be an ursa, but a beowolf? Maybe a boarbatusk?
Sunset unslung Sol Invictus from over her shoulder and raised it. She pressed the stock firmly against her shoulder and aimed down the sights.
Those pitter-pattering feet were getting closer and closer.
Sunset's finger went to the cold metallic trigger.
Ruby Rose burst out of the bushes and, with a startled squeak as she realised she was literally staring down the barrel of a gun, skidded to a halt.
Sunset's expression was stony and inscrutable as she lowered the barrel.
"Sunset!" Ruby cried. "So, I guess this makes us partners, huh?"