The House of Victory
It had been eight weeks since Team SAPR - along with Blake, Sun and their allies of Teams RSPT and WWSR - had battled the White Fang at the docks of Vale and stopped a major dust robbery.
Since that time, not a great deal of any particular note had happened. Classes had continued as before, joined by Sun Wukong, a lost student of Haven Academy, and by various Shade students who had arrived a few days late thanks to a combination of inclement weather and engine trouble. Team SAPR had survived their detentions for their actions at the docks and the midterm exams, with Ruby and Jaune managing to scrape passes in all subjects. By the end of semester exams, they’d both been verging upon doing well. Winter had come and gone, making way for spring and, with it, the vacation. Which brought Team SAPR here: aboard an airship flying across the green expanses of Anima, headed for the city of Mistral.
Sunset had never been anywhere near Mistral before. She'd never even been anywhere on Anima before. To be perfectly honest, going to Beacon had been her first time off Solitas since coming to Remnant, which was one of the reasons why she had accepted Pyrrha's invitation to spend spring break with her in Mistral. Even if they hadn't reached the city of Mistral proper yet, Sunset was already finding it fascinating.
The four members of Team SAPR had taken a Valish airship out to the Mistralian port city of Edo Bay and spent the night before boarding a private Mistralian airship chartered for Pyrrha and her guests by her mother. Just that little taste of what it meant to be in the Kingdom of Mistral had been eye-opening for Sunset: the dress, the deportment were both so different from anything in Vale or Atlas. There had been a conscious sense of the past in the port town; even if it was just a veneer papered over the present, it was still something that Sunset found interesting and pleasant. The clothes were different, and while they weren't what Sunset would have chosen to wear herself, the very fact that they were different and not homogenised to the extent seen in Vale or Atlas… it intrigued her. Now they were approaching Mistral itself, and she could hardly wait.
The private airship was understandably smaller than the commercial carrier that had carried them over the ocean, but it was not the reduction in size that interested Sunset so much as what she had already seen of Mistralian technology. While Atlesian tech gloried in its advancement and sophistication, and even Valish creations seemed to intend to do the same, this Mistralian airship seemed designed to look less hi-tech than Sunset suspected that it really was. In fact, and Sunset wasn’t sure whether this was amusing or absurd, the Mistralian airship appeared to be only a gas bladder away from an Equestrian airship such as might have plied the skyways around Canterlot or carried passengers from the capital to Manehattan and back. That they could manage to make something that seemed so primitive in spite of Remnant’s much greater technological advancement… well, it really took some doing.
Sunset stood on the edge of the airship's main compartment, one hand resting on the wall to stop her falling down to the world passing by beneath. The wings of the airship, beating up and down, might look as though they were fashioned of bamboo and canvas, but that couldn't actually be the case. Sunset doubted there was any difference to the underlying systems that kept this craft in the air or powered their western equivalents; Mistral just wanted it to look as though there was.
It was fascinating, and to be perfectly honest, it reminded her of home more than a little. A foreign visitor to Equestria from some far off land might think Canterlot hopelessly backwards, wallowing in the past while cities like Manehatten powered Equestria into a bright new future, but it was not so. Canterlot was every bit as advanced as any other city in the realm; it simply rejected the hyper-modernised aesthetic of younger cities in favour of maintaining its archaic layout and classical architecture.
But that was no more than a veneer; scratch that surface, and you would find little enough authentic antiquity, and Sunset suspected that it was much the same in Mistral.
She wondered, as the wind blew through her hair, why the Mistralians felt the need to camouflage their advancement behind the appearance of tradition thus. In the case of Canterlot, Sunset had always suspected that Celestia had something to do with it; while the princess could not be accused of retarding her nation's progress, Sunset thought that she might prefer to live in a place that superficially resembled the world that she had grown up in, and who could fault her for that? After all that she had done for Equestria over the centuries, she was probably entitled to have her tastes in architecture catered to within her capital. However, that failed to explain what was driving Mistral's seeming desire for superficial backwardness. What was the cause of it, absent an immortal monarch who wanted a degree of familiarity when she looked out her window?
Sunset glanced over her shoulder at Pyrrha, who – along with Ruby - was presently doing her best to comfort Jaune as his motion sickness got the better of him. In her gleaming armour and with her spear and shield slung across her back, she seemed rather an old-fashioned figure herself, and yet there was nothing truly antique about a spear which could become either sword or rifle on command. Nor was it as if her armour was truly bronze; it was gilded steel, most likely, fashioned to look like bronze. More dressing up of the old in the trappings of the new.
Then Sunset thought of Pyrrha's words, clearly not made up but recited out of memory, when she had unlocked Jaune's aura. She thought of the mystical reverence with which Pyrrha approached aura, the way she talked of destiny, a word which Sunset had not even heard pass the lips of any Valishman. Sunset thought even of the restrained manners which Pyrrha displayed and by which she conducted herself, so different from the exuberant expressiveness of Ruby or Jaune. There was something old-fashioned there, without a doubt; there were times when Pyrrha seemed almost as alien to this world as Sunset herself, a product of a long-gone age of heroes summoned into the modern world and armed with its most powerful weapons. Perhaps that was not just a Pyrrha thing but a Mistral thing; perhaps the reason Mistral cloaked its present in the trappings of the past was simply because it felt more comfortable there.
"Miss Nikos," the pilot called from the cockpit, "we're approaching Mistral now."
Pyrrha's face lit up a little, and she started to rise from Jaune's side before hesitating. "Jaune, do you-?"
Jaune waved her off. "I'm fine. Go. Both of you."
"Are you sure?" Ruby asked anxiously.
Jaune nodded. "You don't want to miss the view, do you?"
Pyrrha smiled. "Thank you," she said, before she quickly joined Sunset looking out of the airship. Ruby followed a moment later, crouching down beneath the two taller girls, even as Sunset herself bent her knees a little so that Pyrrha could see over her. The breeze ruffled their hair, caressing their fiery locks, making it stream behind them and over Ruby's hair like banners flying over an army.
The city of Mistral, the heart of the eastern kingdom, came into view. Far off yet, it seemed, though growing closer with every passing moment as the airship bore them on, yet despite the distance, it seemed already to be beautiful. Fair and proud, the city sat upon its mountain seat, with many towers rising up out of the lush greenery that covered the slopes of the peak like precious pearls set in an emerald broach. No tower was taller, or stood prouder, than the Mistral CCT, the White Tower so high it pierced the very clouds themselves like a lance. As the airship carried them closer, Sunset began to be able to make out more details. She could see the waterfall that emerged from beneath the tower to flow down the side of the mountain, cutting through the centre of the city in a sapphire stream. She could see the way in which the city rose in steps, with the natural formation of the mountain slopes having been fashioned by the labour of long ages past into tiers and layers gradually ascending, plateaus half-formed by nature and half by the hand of man on which the districts and the towers rested, ascending up to grander and yet grander buildings until they reached the tallest and the grandest of them all.
Though Mistral sat not upon a lonely mountain but upon one of a chain of lush green peaks, the citizens had made no effort to colonise the neighbouring rises, to sprawl their city out across the mountain range. Rather, they had spread into the valleys that lay between the peaks, their satellite cities of Windy Path to the north and Kuchinashi to the south, and all the rest taken up with rich farmland nestling in Mistral's shadow and under the protection of Mistralian arms. Fed by the water thundering down the mountainside which, in turn, fed many rills which slithered serpent-like through the green, the fields and orchards over which they flew brought forth grain and fruit and vegetable for the consumption of the city, while on the slopes of the other mountains, the herdsmen and husbandmen raised sheep and goats and cattle.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Pyrrha asked from just behind Sunset.
"Yes, it certainly is," Sunset replied, even though as she replied, she had only a single eye fixed on Mistral. Her other eye saw farther still, and in her mind, she saw another city built onto a mountainside layered over Pyrrha's home: Canterlot the many-towered, its dreaming spires all crowned in gleaming gold, with many bright banners fluttering in the morning breeze. Canterlot the fair, the Canterlot the beautiful, Canterlot the seat and fount of virtue and wisdom; Canterlot... her home.
The home that she had left behind, never to see again.
It was the right decision, and I have benefited from it. Had she not left Canterlot and her world behind, then she would have remained a small and insignificant unicorn full of wasted energy, a failure who had betrayed her own potential and reduced herself to irrelevance in the scheme of things. If she had not left Canterlot and her world, then she would never have met Pyrrha or Ruby or Jaune; she would never have become a team leader; she would never have had this life which suited her so well.
I hardly know whether to be proud that you have chosen to devote yourself to the protection and service of others or horrified at the fact that you live in a world that requires such devotion. So Celestia had written, when Sunset had explained the general state of Remnant to her and what her chosen path of huntress entailed. She might well be horrified, because it was rather horrifying when you stopped accepting it as the status quo and started to look at it from the outside, still less tried to see it as one who had ruled over a nation in peace and harmony for a thousand years might do. But Sunset hoped, Sunset believed, that Celestia recognised that it was no unworthy thing she did.
The airship landed on a docking pad about three-quarters of the way up the city, a docking pad which Sunset was a little surprised to see empty as she dismounted. "No cheering throngs of adoring fans?"
"Not everything that I do is public knowledge," Pyrrha replied as she helped Jaune down onto the docking pad.
Sunset grunted. "How are you feeling?" she asked Jaune. She frowned. "You know, I can't help but notice that you didn't have any problems on the Bullhead flying down into the forest for the Grimm Studies practical, or flying in or out of the Forever Fall, for that matter. Your motion sickness is rather selective."
Jaune laughed nervously. "That's because, uh, it's not exactly motion sickness. I just thought it sounded a little less pathetic than extreme nerves."
"'Nerves'?" Ruby asked. "I mean, sure, first day of school, I was pretty nervous too, but… now? How can you be more nervous here than flying into a grimm infested forest?"
"Because it was only grimm waiting in the forest," Jaune explained, "and not Pyrrha's mother."
"Oh," Pyrrha murmured, a dispirited note creeping into her voice. "I… I see. Jaune; if you didn't want to come, then-"
"It's not that," Jaune explained quickly. "I just… I don't want to… I'm afraid that I'll… never mind. Can we not talk about it?"
"Of course, if you'd rather not," Pyrrha said, "I hope you'll find that this trip was worth the trouble. I… I've never had the chance to share my home with anyone like this before. I really do want all of you to have a good time."
"And we will," Ruby assured her. "We're going to have the best Spring Break ever."
Jaune nodded and tried to smile. "Totally. This is going to be great."
"I'm enjoying myself already," Sunset declared. "That view was… let's just say that Vale needs to up its game."
"It was beautiful," Ruby agreed. "Just like you said it would be."
Sunset smirked. "The only thing missing was the sound of silver trumpets as the people cried out 'the Champion of Mistral has returned.'"
Pyrrha chuckled, "I'm glad to say that's never happened."
"Just wait until you win the Vytal Festival," Sunset told her. "So, where to now?"
"To my home," Pyrrha said. "If you'll all follow me." She led the way, dragging her luggage after in a case on wheels, and the rest of the team fell in behind her.
Sunset stood by her belief that, beneath its facade of unchanging antiquity, Mistral was every bit as modern and advanced as Vale, but she had to concede that in at least one respect, the appearance of an older, more traditional way of doing things was more than just a veneer: there were no cars on the roads. The streets were so narrow and winding that they could not have accommodated them, nor would the stepped, rising nature of the city have been of any help in this regard. Sunset had been surprised at first when Pyrrha started to lead the way on foot, and further surprised when she noticed the complete lack of any sound of engines in the air, only of footfalls and conversation and the ever-present rumbling of the waterfall. Not a single car or bike or truck was to be heard, let alone seen.
"As a city, Mistral is much smaller than Vale," Pyrrha explained, as she led them down a thoroughfare that passed between rows of large, expansive houses rising up behind sturdy walls that Sunset could only assume were intended to keep the riff-raff out. "And so it isn't so hard to travel on foot."
"But on the other hand, the writ of the kingdom runs much further, right?" Sunset asked. "'Outside the kingdom' doesn't mean so much here."
"That's right," Pyrrha said. "Settlements across Anima acknowledge the authority of the Mistral council." She smiled. "Did you read up before you came here?"
"A little," Sunset said, although she'd already picked up a fair amount from history classes. "I didn't want you to have to answer every inane question that I might have."
They passed a couple of guards - or cops, but based on their dress, Sunset couldn't help but think of them as guards - who were armoured like warriors of old in lacquered, lamellar plates of armour fashioned to look like plates of leather and metal jointed together, regardless of what it was really made of, topped with tall, crested helmets. They were also carrying very modern Atlesian rifles, which served to prove – to Sunset's own satisfaction, at least - that she had been onto something.
Pyrrha guided them to a grand house, rising up from behind a white wall, occupying the back of a cul-de-sac. The path beyond the wall was barred by a set of gates painted red - with an intercom system mounted to the right - but even beyond the wall, Sunset could already tell that "house" was an inappropriate word for this place, "mansion" possibly being a more suitable choice. It rose upwards rather than sprawling outwards, even though the wall enclosed sufficient space that it could have done so. Sunset supposed that, much like Canterlot, to waste space was the highest statement of affluence in this city. The main house - white, with a roof of red tiles rising at a steep angle - was surrounded by several towers, and it seemed as though all of the upper windows led out onto spacious balconies.
Jaune's eyes were wide and his mouth agape already. "You... you live here? This place is a palace!"
Let's not go overboard, thought Sunset, who, unlike Jaune, had actually grown up in a palace. It was an impressive place, to be sure, but a palace? Not quite. This was the townhouse of a wealthy family, nothing more. You only had to look up the hill to the actual palace, gleaming effulgent in all its splendour, in order to appreciate the difference.
Pyrrha looked abashed by Jaune's awe, looking away from him as her face acquired a slight red tint. "Yes, well… let's go in, shall we?" She walked - with a touch of haste in her gait - up to the intercom set next to the gate and pushed the green button.
A screen at the top of the metallic panel flashed briefly before a voice issued out. "Welcome home, young mistress."
The gate opened, rolling backwards in both directions with a rumble of engines. Jaune gasped, and gasped again – this time joined by Ruby - as Pyrrha led them through the gate. The gate closed again as soon as they were clear of it, and Sunset and the others followed Pyrrha through the grounds towards the house. The space that the Nikos family was squandering by possession unbuilt-upon was not wholly wasted, for the path of white stone that led to the house cut through a lavish garden. Cherry trees blossomed amidst many-coloured flower beds, fountains burbled happily amidst well-ordered rock gardens, and bronze statues of heroic figures armed and garbed for war brandished their spears from atop marble plinths upon the manicured lawn.
Ruby's eyes were wide and shone with admiration. "It's all so beautiful."
A fond smile played upon Pyrrha's face. "I'm glad that you could come here in the spring, when the cherry blossoms are in bloom," she said. Her smile faded a little. "Alas, they bloom too briefly and fall too soon."
A gentle breeze dislodged some of the blossoms from the trees, scattering the petals across their path as they advanced.
"This is incredible," Jaune whispered, turning this way and that as he walked down the path.
"Do you like it?" Pyrrha asked anxiously.
"Of course!" Jaune replied, turning to face her with a beam on his face. "This is great!"
It was as if a great weight of anxiety had been lifted from Pyrrha's shoulders; she looked a little easier, and her eyes gleamed a little brighter as she said, "I'm so glad! I really want you to enjoy this."
"These statues," Sunset said. "Purely decorative or...?"
"My ancestors," Pyrrha said. "I'd introduce you, as it were, but you should probably meet my mother first."
The door to the house was as red as the outer gate, with great gold door knocks which proved quite unnecessary as the doors swung open as soon as they approached. The four stepped upon a crimson carpet as they entered a spacious hall, decorated in marble and gold and lit by the flickering lights of many lanterns. The carpet led towards a grand, branching staircase, and on either side of the carpet were arrayed two rows of maids in black dresses and white aprons who clasped their hands together before them as they bowed and chorused, "Welcome home, Lady Pyrrha."
Pyrrha's embarrassment returned swiftly and visibly as she looked down at her feet. "Yes, thank you," she murmured in a subdued tone.
"Welcome home!" This new voice came not from any of the servants in the hall, but from the woman presently descending the stairs. She looked to be somewhere in middle age, with hair that had once been as red as Pyrrha's now beginning to turn grey in wisps and strands and streaks. The years had begun to line her face, and she walked with slight limp, keeping one hand upon the bannister even if there was no sign of a cane. "Welcome home," she repeated as she neared the bottom of the stairs. "My child, my daughter; mine and Mistral's greatest and most beloved champion. Welcome home." She was dressed in a flowing gown of crimson and gold, with long open sleeves that almost hid her hands and a long train, which flowed behind her as she walked down to the carpet towards Pyrrha and the others.
Pyrrha bowed her head. "Mother."
The two were nearly of a height, Sunset saw, as Pyrrha's mother drew closer, and both had the same green eyes. Sunset wouldn't have been surprised to learn that in her youth, the older woman had looked very much as Pyrrha did now. Even now, though age and care had set their mark upon her without doubt, she had not aged wholly ungracefully.
Pyrrha's mother embraced her daughter for the briefest moment and kissed her on the forehead; only then did she turn her gaze on Pyrrha's companions.
"Mother," Pyrrha said quickly. "Thank you for welcoming my friends into our home. Jaune, Sunset, Ruby, this is my mother, Lady Hippolyta Nikos. Mother, allow me to present Jaune Arc, my partner at Beacon."
Jaune smiled as he thrust out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you, uh, ma'am. You've got a lovely home."
The older woman regarded him rather like a kind of slime, her green eyes - they were the same colour as Pyrrha's, but lacked all of the warmth present in Pyrrha's orbs - filled with disdain. Jaune's hand remained outstretched, reaching out into empty air, untaken.
Jaune's smile began to waver as his hand trembled slightly.
"Charmed, Mister Arc," she said in a voice that sounded far from charmed.
Pyrrha looked so guilty you might have thought she was the one being insulting. "Also let me introduce my friend and teammate Ruby Rose."
Jaune's reception appeared to have left Ruby feeling rather intimidated and uncertain. She kept her hands clasped together in front of her and had trouble looking at Lady Nikos. "Hello," she murmured.
Lady Nikos' gaze lingered upon Ruby for a moment, a trace of surprise in her green eyes, but she said nothing.
Pyrrha looked thoroughly miserable. Her voice trembled as she said, "And this is my team leader, Sunset Shimmer."
It had been a long time since Sunset had needed to have recourse to the high manners of the court, but as she reached for them now, she found - somewhat to her relief - that she had not forgotten the lessons in etiquette and courtesy that she had learned during her tutelage at Celestia's hooves. Though unused, they had been but lying dormant at the back of her mind, waiting to be used again. She did not clasp her hands together as she bowed, for it was clear to her from observation of the maids that such was a servant's bow, and Sunset Shimmer was no servant. Rather, she spread her hands out wide on either side of her and angled her face so that she could still see her host as she crossed one foot behind the other and bowed deeply from the waist. "Lady Nikos, thank you for extending your hospitality to me; I am honoured to be a guest in your home."
Jaune made a kind of choking sound, and when Sunset rose, she saw that he, Ruby, and Pyrrha were all staring at Sunset as though she'd sprouted a second head.
What? Just because I don't do manners normally doesn't mean that I can't. I'm not a barbarian, except by choice.
Lady Nikos stared at her for a moment, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. Her lips twitched momentarily. Sunset was surprised that the old woman's gaze did not linger on Sunset's faunus features, but of course, Pyrrha had never shown any regard for such things, and she had to have acquired her tolerance from somewhere.
"Welcome, Miss Shimmer," she said. "Please consider the luxuries of this house to be your own; if you have any needs, the servants will gladly attend to them for you. The guest rooms have been prepared, and I imagine you are weary from your journey; dinner will be held at seven; I imagine I will see you then. Pyrrha, will you visit your father?"
Pyrrha bowed her head. "With your leave, Mother."
"Of course," Lady Nikos said. "No doubt he will be almost as glad of your return as I. Once you are finished, we must talk."
Pyrrha sighed. "Yes, Mother."
Obviously not a good talk, Sunset thought.
"Iris, take my daughter's luggage to her room and unpack it."
"As you wish, my lady."
"As for the rest of you," Lady Nikos continued. "Hestia, show our guests to the rooms prepared for them, that they may rest."
One of the maids curtsied. "At once, my lady. Follow me, please."
Pyrrha placed a fire-dust crystal into the lamp, and the light illuminated her passage as she walked down the steps into the crypt.
This house had been renovated and re-modelled over the years, but its frame was old. A noble Mistralian family, the Aemillii, had built it centuries ago, but that line had tragically died out during the Great War, and the Nikos family had acquired the house after Pyrrha's great-great-great grandfather had abdicated the throne at the end of the Great War. This house was older than its occupation by her line.
What was not so old was the crypt.
The Nikos family had always kept their dead close by; the underbelly of the Chrysanthemum Palace played host to the sarcophagi of many emperors and princes past back, so it was said, to Theseus, the very founder of the city. Now, the palace belonged to the line of the Stewards of the House of Thrax; now, it was Lord Diomedes' kin who slumbered in the crypts beneath, and while the Stewards would not disturb the ancient scions of the line of Nikos interred there, nor would they permit more recent generations of the family to mingle with those now raised above them in lordship and dignity
And so, Pyrrha's more recent ancestors had excavated a new crypt, dug out new dark, cold spaces underneath their new home, and resumed their ancient customs in their new abode.
"Revered ancestors," Pyrrha murmured as she reached the bottom of the steps and entered the crypt proper. Only the fire dust crystal burning in the lamp enabled her to see anything within this dark and gloomy place. The air was chill and dry, and the great stone tombs lay squat and broad on either side of the central transept, recumbent effigies of those within lay atop the sarcophagus lids. Their eyes were closed, some had their hands clasped together across their chests, others gripped swords or spears tightly in their hands. Here lay the last Emperor of Mistral and the three sons that he had lost in the Great War; here lay her great-great-grandfather, the last prince to survive the war, and all the House of Nikos by blood or marriage until her mother. Here, Pyrrha's mortal remnants would lie, when her time came, and even if there were no remains, even if the grimm left none, then still a tomb would be erected for her and an effigy carved to sit upon the coffin in eternal rest with Miló in her hand.
Pyrrha prayed that that day, though it be inevitable, might be many years hence. Many years of joy, many years with her new friends, many years of love, many years to bear a child of her own and watch them grow tall and strong and kind. Many years, if fate was kind to her and her will might have its way.
The air in the crypt was musty and thick with ghosts, the spirits of her ancestors watching her as she walked through the darkness with only a fire-dust lamp to light the way.
Pyrrha stopped before the tomb of her father.
Achilles Nikos was rendered in stone as a man tall but lithe-limbed, clean-shaven but with long hair descending past his shoulders. He was depicted in the armour of a huntsman, with a sword resting upon his chest, the sword and armour that were buried in the tomb with him. His countenance was youthful, the face of a man who had fallen before his time. His expression was stern, set in dignified repose, devoid of the smiles that had animated in life. Or so Pyrrha remembered at least; she had been very young at the time.
"Father," Pyrrha said, as she set the lamp down upon the floor of the crypt. "I... I've come home. Not permanently, of course, but for the spring vacation." She hesitated for a moment. "I've brought my friends and teammates with me: Jaune, Ruby, and Sunset. That's right, Father, I have friends now. Three friends who trust me with their lives. It's wonderful. I've never felt before the way that I feel when I'm with them. They treat me... they treat me like a person. When I'm with them, I'm not the Invincible Girl, I'm not the champion of Mistral or the Princess Without a Crown, I'm not a walking talking combat doll... I'm Pyrrha Nikos." Well, mostly. There were times when she could tell by the look in Sunset's eye that their team leader had already mentally decided where she was going to put the trophy from their Vytal Festival win and suspected that her undefeated status played a major role in Sunset's calculation. But if you took the ambition out of Sunset, then whatever you were left with would probably not be much like Sunset Shimmer, and so, Pyrrha was inclined to forgive a little premature counting of chickens.
"I wish that you could meet them all," she said. "I wish that you could tell me that I've chosen well, that I'm as fortunate in them as I feel; I wish I could ask you how to talk to Jaune and you could answer. I wish that you were here, in more ways than you are." She knelt and closed her eyes as she rested her forehead upon the stone. "I miss you, Father."
She remained down in the crypt for a little while longer, surrounded by the ghosts of her family, and only when the fire dust crystal in the lamp began to burn out did she rise to her feet and walk, her steps echoing in the quiet and the dark, up from the crypt and back into the house.
"Hey, Pyrrha."
Pyrrha stopped. Ruby was standing not far away, looking a little awkward as she tugged at one sleeve with her other hand.
"Ruby," Pyrrha murmured, surprised. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"
"No," Ruby said quickly. "I just… I heard where you were going, and I didn't want to disturb you down there, but… when I come back from visiting Mom, I'm always glad to have someone there waiting for me."
Pyrrha looked down at the smaller, younger girl for a moment and said nothing. A smile blossomed on her face. "You're a very sweet girl, thank you."
Ruby's cheeks flushed a little. "It's nothing."
"No," Pyrrha insisted. "It's more than that." She gestured to a low stone bench sitting against the marbled wall not far away. "Shall we?"
"Okay," Ruby said softly. "I mean, if you want to."
"Yes," Pyrrha replied with equal gentleness in her voice. "I think I do."
Together, they walked to the bench, and there, sat down. Pyrrha set down the lamp and played with her long red sash for a moment, her fingers fiddling with the cloth. Ruby sat down next to her and waited, letting Pyrrha decide when she would speak.
"This… this may sound terribly selfish," Pyrrha admitted, "but there are times when I wonder why he did it."
Ruby was quiet for a moment. "You mean…"
"Why he became a huntsman," Pyrrha explained. "Why he continued to be a huntsman, I should say. My father was not born a Nikos – the lineage passes through my mother, whose name he took upon their marriage – but after he married my mother, the family fortunes could have kept him in luxury for all his life had he chosen to do nothing at all but… but to be a loving husband and a devoted father to his children."
"I didn't think you had any siblings," Ruby murmured.
"I don't," Pyrrha said quickly. "But I could have, if… there are times when I can't help but wonder why."
Ruby didn't answer for a little while, but she did reach out and take Pyrrha's hand in her own and offer her a reassuring squeeze. "I ask myself that too," she admitted. "Not… not where Dad can hear, or Yang, or Uncle Qrow, because… because like you said, it feels wrong. It feels selfish to ask what Mom was doing that was more important than her family. I know that she died for humanity, and I know that that's what any huntress should be willing to do, but all the same, there are times when I get so-"
"So angry," Pyrrha whispered. "Except that you're not allowed to ever be really angry, so you end up-"
"Keeping it locked away inside," Ruby finished for the both of them. "I know that what my mother did was noble and good - and I'm guessing that it was the same with your father too - but although I wish I could say that in my heart that's the only thing I feel… it's not. Maybe it is selfish to wish that they were here, with us, but maybe… maybe that's okay."
"I hope so," Pyrrha said softly, squeezing Ruby's hand in turn. "Just as I hope that the mild hypocrisy of it is also acceptable."
"'Hypocrisy'?"
"We are walking in their footsteps, are we not?" Pyrrha asked. "Perhaps we are also walking to their fates."
"I hope not," Ruby said. "I'd rather we all lived happily ever after, like the heroes in the books, rather than… well, rather than our children sitting here wondering if it's okay for them to be mad at us."
Pyrrha chuckled softly. "I… the books of our culture have fewer happy endings than yours, I think," she admitted. "But I would prefer that, too. I would prefer an ending where I can have… where I can have everything that I want." She snorted. "More appalling selfishness."
"What do you mean?" Ruby asked.
"I mean…" Pyrrha collected her thoughts. "In the great epics of Mistralian culture, the lords and heroes are known as 'Shepherds of the People.'"
Ruby blinked. "You called me that, in the dorm after… after Sunset upset you."
Pyrrha smiled. "Yes, I did, didn't I? The epithet refers to a lord's duty to protect his people from harm, just as a shepherd protects his flock from wolves and bears. I called you that because I have never known anyone so dedicated to protecting others as you, Ruby Rose, and… and I mean no insult to you now to say that that is an indictment of what Mistral has become. Many noble houses – Thrax, Rutulus, Ming – can trace their descents back through the ages to days long ago and to heroes whose names resound in song and story. Shepherds of the people, they fought for glory and for their honour, yes, but they also fought to defend their people, the villages and shepherds who did them homage. We have forgotten that. Too many of Mistral's best seek only after their own advantage, without thought for the good of Mistral and our territories. I… this will sound very arrogant, but I would like to live up to the ideals of our ancestors and the honour they won that made our families great. That's why I chose to become a huntress, so that I can protect the world and prove myself worthy of the privileges with which I have been blessed. That is my desire, my destiny, it is… the rock at the centre of my soul.
"But at the same time, I feel another desire, like waves crashing against that rock."
"For the rock to go away," Ruby murmured. "To not to have to feel any of that, to not have the weight on your shoulders."
Pyrrha looked at her. "Exactly," she acknowledged. "To do what my father and your mother could not, would not… to walk away and leave it behind. To live… a normal life."
Ruby cocked her head to one side. “Hmm,” she murmured. “I can’t see it?”
Pyrrha frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I just don’t think you have it in you to walk away,” Ruby said. “Even if… even if you might want to.”
“That’s… kind of you, I suppose,” Pyrrha said. “But I’m not as noble as you.”
“I don’t know,” Ruby demurred. “Anyway, it’s not about that; it’s about… you didn’t have to help Jaune, but you decided to do it anyway. You said yourself you didn’t have to come to Beacon; you don’t have to live up to values that nobody else does. But you do all that stuff anyway because that’s who you are. Like you said, it’s your rock, and no amount of waves are going to break it down.”
Pyrrha looked down at the red sash in her hands. “No, I suppose they won’t,” she agreed softly, with a slight touch of melancholy in her voice. “I only hope… that I can be happy, regardless of that.”
“That’s not selfish,” Ruby informed her. “Everyone is allowed to be happy, even huntresses. Happily ever after all around, remember?”
“I quite agree, Miss Rose,” Lady Nikos declared, as she rounded the corner, the train of her long gown trailing after her along the polished tiles of the floor. “Selflessness is admirable, but all virtues taken to extremes can become vices, and the selflessness that admits no thought at all for self no less so than any other.” She paused. “Pyrrha, I would like to see you in my study.”
Pyrrha rose to her feet. How much did you overhear? “Of course, Mother,” she murmured. She looked down at Ruby and found that she was still holding the younger girl’s hand. “Thank you, Ruby,” she said as she released her. She felt more than a little guilty about going and leaving Ruby to her mother’s tender mercies – Please be gentle with her, Mother – but when her mother spoke, there was little else to do but to obey.
So Pyrrha made her way towards her mother’s study and left Ruby alone.
Ruby looked away. Pyrrha’s mom… kind of intimidated her a little bit. Made even worse by the fact that Ruby was fairly certain that Lady Nikos was trying to be intimidating. It was the way she stared. Her eyes might be the same colour as Pyrrha’s, but they didn’t have any of Pyrrha’s kindness.
Ruby fidgeted with her hands while she waited for Lady Nikos to say something.
“You seem very young,” Lady Nikos observed. “How old are you, Miss Rose?”
“I, um, I’m fifteen,” Ruby murmured.
“Indeed?” Lady Nikos replied. She paused. “It is acceptable to be angry, Miss Rose.”
“Huh?”
“I have been angry with my husband for these many years past,” Lady Nikos continued. “I think… I think that if I were no longer angry, it would mean… that I no longer loved him.”
Ruby’s mouth hung open. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to that. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say anything.
“Are you lost, Miss Rose?” Lady Nikos asked.
“Um, no,” Ruby mumbled. Lady Nikos raised one eyebrow. “No… my lady?”
“If you cannot find your way to where you wish to go, then there are many bellpulls with which you may summon a maid to guide you wherever you wish… or inform you if that place is out of bounds. I am sure that Pyrrha will give you a tour later, but for now, I wish to speak with my daughter.”
“Of course.”
Lady Nikos snorted very slightly. “Goodbye, Miss Rose.” She turned away.
“Goodbye, Mi- my lady,” Ruby said, with a very nervous wave. “And thank you,” she added very quietly, so quietly that Lady Nikos did not hear, or if she heard, did not respond.
Pyrrha did not like her mother’s study. For the most part, she did not like it because it was all about her: one wall was filled with printed off articles about her, her victories, her accomplishments, speculation about her future. The her in this case being Pyrrha herself, not her mother.
Pyrrha didn’t like to look at it, and yet, it was positioned in such a way that – sitting in front of her mother’s ebony writing desk as she was – it was very difficult to avoid it whilst maintaining a normal position and proper posture. In fact, in order to so much as reduce the sight to the mere corner of her eye, Pyrrha had to shift in her to a point that must surely look rather ridiculous.
It was certainly not a posture that she could maintain once her mother arrived in any event, and so, Pyrrha returned to a more normal position and posture and tried to concentrate on other things, like the antique sword on a stand directly in front of her, the bust of her great-great grandfather turned away and facing towards where mother would sit when she arrived, the bronze elephants that currently served as book-ends and the restoration-era ebony statuette of a warrior. The House of Nikos was reduced somewhat from the heights of its power and glory, but a great many antiques and heirlooms yet remained to them, and they were a source of great pride to her mother.
Pyrrha wished her mother had not taken such simultaneous pride in her present doings.
The door opened. Pyrrha heard it but did not look around as her mother swept around the desk and took her seat opposite her daughter. Lady Nikos took a moment to collect herself, smoothing out her gown and pulling down her sleeves. She looked at Pyrrha. “Welcome home,” she said once again.
“Thank you, Mother,” Pyrrha said softly, “and thank you for allowing me to bring my teammates here.”
“I am curious as to what manner of people they are,” Lady Nikos murmured. “So far I am less than impressed.”
“Because they don’t know how to bow?”
“Didn’t you tell them what would be expected of them here?” Lady Nikos demanded.
“No,” Pyrrha admitted.
“Why not?”
“Because that isn’t why I asked them here, Mother,” Pyrrha replied. “They’re not Mistralian-”
“But they are in Mistral, in my house,” Lady Nikos declared. “Am I not entitled to respect under my own roof? At least your team leader seems to have some notion of how to behave.”
“Yes,” Pyrrha murmured, wondering where Sunset had learnt to act like that. Not outside the kingdoms, surely? And yet, at the same time, it hardly seemed the sort of thing she would have picked up in Atlas either. She pushed that thought aside. “Please, Mother, don’t spend the entire vacation judging them. That isn’t… I want them to have a good time here. I invited them so that I could share my home and my culture with my new friends, not parade them for your approval, and I don’t want them to think that’s why I brought them either.”
“You want to share your culture with them?” Lady Nikos repeated. “This is our culture: respect for ancient blood and revered nobility.”
“You know what I mean, Mother,” Pyrrha said gently.
“You mean you want to show them around the city’s tourist traps like a common guide,” Lady Nikos said. “Will you hold out your hand for a tip when you are done?”
“Mother,” Pyrrha moaned, “is it so wrong that I want to share the delights on Mistral with my teammates?”
Lady Nikos was silent for a moment. “Do you have anything specific in mind?”
“I have ideas,” Pyrrha replied. “Although I’m not sure that they would all please everyone.” Sunset, she thought, might appreciate the Old Theatre, but it was hardly likely to interest Jaune or Ruby. “The night market is always worth a visit, and the Imperial Gardens are also very beautiful, day or night.”
“Hmm.” Lady Nikos picked up the scroll sitting on her desk. “I have been glad to see that your grades have been consistently excellent,” she said. Her gaze swept up from the scroll to skewer Pyrrha. “I am less pleased that your disciplinary record has not remained spotless.”
Pyrrha sucked in her breath. “That was only a single incident, Mother.”
“You say that as if you missed an essay deadline,” Lady Nikos said sharply. “That single incident was you seeking out an engagement with the White Fang.”
“That was over eight weeks ago, Mother.”
“And?”
Pyrrha hesitated. “And… you didn’t mention it at the time.”
“Some things are best discussed face to face, don’t you agree?” Lady Nikos asked.
Pyrrha did not, at this moment, but she could hardly say that. “We were victorious, and we stopped the theft of a large shipment of dust.” She glanced at the wall behind her mother. “I notice that your displeasure did not prevent you from adding a report on the subject to your record of my accomplishments.”
“Do not try to be witty; you do not have the manner for it,” Lady Nikos informed her coldly. “Of course you were victorious: you are my daughter and the pride of Mistral reborn. What rabble band could stand before you?” She paused. “I must confess that I am not displeased that you have burnished your reputation thus. I am, however, a little confused: you tell me that you wish to go to Beacon in search of this thing you call ‘a normal life,’ this thing that you say to Miss Rose you are not sure if you want-”
“How long were you listening to my conversation with Ruby, Mother?”
“But once you arrive, you go in search of cutthroats to battle,” Lady Nikos continued, ignoring her daughter. “That hardly seems like normal behaviour for a first-year student.”
Pyrrha hesitated for a moment. “We… had our reasons.”
“Which were?”
“I cannot say, Mother; it would betray a confidence to do so.”
“I see,” Lady Nikos acknowledged. “I will not, of course, ask you to dishonour yourself.” She paused. “When news of your endeavour-”
“It was an effort by our team and other friends.”
“-reached Mistral,” Lady Nikos continued, again without acknowledgement of Pyrrha’s point, “there were, alongside those praising your skill and daring, those who told me that I should bring you home to Mistral immediately. Professor Lionheart called on me and offered to facilitate your transfer to Haven personally.”
“On what grounds?” Pyrrha asked.
“On the grounds that with the White Fang so confident that they will attempt such large scale operations, then Vale is clearly no safe place for you.”
“Unless you intend that I not compete in the Vytal Tournament, then I will have to go to Vale at some point,” Pyrrha pointed out.
“My thoughts exactly,” Lady Nikos agreed. “Which is why you have not left Beacon.”
“And I am grateful for that,” Pyrrha said softly. “I do not wish to go.”
“Because you do not wish to be parted from your teammates?”
“Because I do not wish to be parted from my friends,” Pyrrha clarified.
“Hmph,” Lady Nikos snorted softly. “So… how was your first taste of battle?”
“I have fought more battles than simply against the White Fang,” Pyrrha reminded her mother. “I have fought the grimm more than once.”
“In either case, how was it?” Lady Nikos asked. “Your father used to tell me that fighting in the field was quite a different beast than fighting in the arena.”
“In terms of fighting… I have not noticed a great difference in style,” Pyrrha admitted. “But I know what father meant… Ruby… nearly died during the battle at the docks. That is something quite different from fighting in the arena, and less pleasant, I admit.”
“And yet it does not dim your resolve?” Lady Nikos asked.
“What kind of coward would I have to be to abandon my friends after one of them had suffered injury?” Pyrrha asked. “Is that the sort of daughter you desire?”
“No,” Lady Nikos declared flatly. “Speaking of Miss Rose, you didn’t tell me she was so young.”
“Does it matter?”
“She must be quite the talent to have been admitted to Beacon early.”
“She is very talented,” Pyrrha said. Her face fell. “Please don’t be jealous, Mother.”
“That depends on whether I am given cause for jealousy,” Lady Nikos replied.
“Mother-”
“That will be all for now,” Lady Nikos added. “I will see you at dinner.”
Pyrrha got to her feet. “Yes, Mother.”
Jaune hovered outside of Sunset's room, hand up but not quite knocking on the door. The truth was that Sunset still kind of scared him, at least a little bit. She was on their side, for which he was very thankful, but he still got the feeling sometimes that if 'do the right thing' was a box to tick on a multiple choice test, Sunset might sometimes tick that box, but it wouldn't be because it was the right thing. He knew that he wasn’t one to talk about doing the right thing, but it didn't change the fact that Sunset made him nervous.
But he needed her help, or at least to know how she seemed to know exactly what to do back in the hall, and so he forced down his nerves and knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" Sunset called from the other side of the door.
"It's me," Jaune replied. "I need to talk to you."
"The door's open,” Sunset said.
Jaune took that as an invitation, and so, he opened the old oak-panelled door and walked into Sunset's room. The walls were amber, with a band like golden marble, mottled with veins of black and grey, running around the centre of the walls. The curtains - which were all that separated the room proper from the balcony beyond; there were no windows - were a rich crimson bordered with gold thread and equally golden tassel, and they rippled lazily in the afternoon breeze. A tapestry depicting some kind of heroic scene - a stylised battle against the grimm - hung on the wall opposite the bed, which was covered in soft silk sheets.
Sunset's case sat on the bed, half-unpacked but with a few things still lying folded in the case itself; Sunset herself stood on the balcony, her back to the door and her hands resting on the sandy rail. The same breeze that shifted the curtains ran through her hair, and it danced gently up and down.
"What do you think of Mistral so far?" Sunset asked without turning around.
"What I've seen... it's a really nice place," Jaune said as he shut the door behind him.
"Yeah, a really nice place," Sunset murmured. "I've heard that Mistral's worse than Atlas for faunus rights, which is a crying shame. I..." She trailed off, turning to face Jaune and looking... embarrassed? What did she have to be embarrassed about? Jaune went back through what she'd said and couldn't find anything to be ashamed of, unless she wasn't embarrassed by what she'd said but what she'd almost said? It was all he could think of, but it still didn't make a lot of sense to him.
Sunset cleared her throat and looked down at the balcony floor as she half-sa, half-leaned upon the rail. "Something that I can do for you, Jaune?"
Now it was Jaune's turn to feel the sting of embarrassment; when he thought of how Pyrrha's mom had looked at him he wanted to sink into the floor and when he thought of how he must have embarrassed Pyrrha, it was almost enough to make him wish that he'd stayed at Beacon for the break. "How did you do it, Sunset? How did you know what to do?"
Sunset glanced up at him; her brow was furrowed just a little. "You'll have to be a little more specific."
"Pyrrha's mom!" Jaune exclaimed. "I mean, it isn't like I was trying to be rude or anything, but did you see the way she looked at me? I feel like I've messed up already. And you... how did you know to bow, for crying out loud? And what was that you said? Should I have known how to do that? Was I supposed to do research before I came here?"
Sunset's gaze was not without sympathy as she walked off the balcony and back into the room. "Ruby and Pyrrha have a tendency to tell you that things aren't your fault to make you feel better, but I don't, so I hope you can believe me when I say that that wasn't your fault. The truth is, if you'd been meeting Ruby's father, then a firm handshake and calling him 'sir' probably would have got you where you wanted to go... but this isn't Vale, and these people are different."
"Different how? Because they're Mistralian?"
Sunset spread her arms out to encompass the room. "Look around. Think of the house, the grounds, what do you see? What does it say to you?"
Jaune thought about it, the grand house, the lavish gardens, the opulently decorated rooms. "Money?" he ventured.
Sunset snorted. "Well, yes; I mean, they might not be the Schnees, but they're set for life. But that's not what I meant." She paused. "Your sword... it's an old family thing, right?"
Jaune nodded. "My great-great grandfather carried it in the Great War."
Sunset nodded too, slowly, thoughtfully. "And what about his great-great grandfather, who was he?"
"I..." Jaune hesitated. "I don't know."
"I'm not surprised," Sunset said. "I don't know who my great-great-grandfather's great-great-grandfather was either. I doubt Ruby knows on either side of her family. We know the relatives who are still alive; we have the stories that our parents and grandparents pass on to us if we're lucky enough to have them, and everything else... is forgotten. It recedes into the mists and vanishes as though it was never there at all, because memory fades. But families like this don't work the same way. They don't have memories; they have history. They're old."
"Old money?"
"Old blood," Sunset corrected. "There are statues of Pyrrha's ancestors on the lawn, there are tapestries of them on the walls; I bet you Pyrrha's mother knows who her great-great grandfather's great-great grandfather was. It's easy for them to remember because their family history is the history of the city, of the kingdom itself. They're old blood, and that blood is baked into this place. They're different."
"Pyrrha isn't."
"Pyrrha... Pyrrha's something else," Sunset allowed. "Pyrrha doesn't want to be set apart, not for her skill and probably not for all this either. But her mother... her mother knows what she is, I think. And she wants everyone else to know it too and to respond appropriately."
"But how was I supposed to get all of that?"
"I said it wasn't your fault," Sunset said.
"And you," Jaune exclaimed. "How did you get all of that? How did you know what to do?"
"Because I grew up in a palace," Sunset said.
You could have hit Jaune over the head with a rebar, and it wouldn't have stunned him as much as hearing those words come tumbling out of Sunset's mouth. He stared at her, his eyes boggling. "You... huh? You're kidding. You.. .you have to be kidding, right?"
Sunset smirked. "What, you find it so hard to believe?"
Jaune shifted uncomfortably in place. "...kinda?"
A snort escaped from between Sunset's lips. "You can believe it or not; it won't make it any less true. I once lived a life of ease and refinement, dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge." She sat down upon her bed and stretched out her arms over her head. "I was going to be a princess."
Jaune frowned. "Like... you mean you were going to marry a prince?"
"No, I... never mind. It's complicated, and you probably don't believe me anyway."
"Well, if it's true, then... what happened?" Jaune asked. "Why would you give that up to be a huntress? To be treated like dirt in Atlas? Why would you give any of it up?"
Sunset shrugged. "What are any of us doing, putting ourselves in harm's way? Why does Pyrrha want to risk her life when she could live here in the lap of luxury until her teeth fall out? And what about you? I can't believe you grew up deprived; your life must have been okay."
"My life was boring and ordinary, and I wanted more," Jaune said. "Pyrrha's the most selfless, generous person I've ever met. You... no offence, but why would you give up a life of fame and luxury to die for other people?"
Sunset stared at him - almost glared at him - for a moment, and Jaune felt his heart quake as he feared that he had gone too far. But then she smirked at him and said, "Well, you got me there, I admit. That life... things didn't work out like I hoped. But I've got you now, and my team, so it all worked out for the best in the end, right?"
For the first time since he'd met her, Sunset seemed genuinely uncertain. She seemed as though she was asking him for reassurance, genuinely asking him because she wanted, needed, to be told that yes, it had all come good in the end.
"Yeah!" he said, maybe a little too loudly but no less genuinely for that. "We make a great team, don't we?"
"Of course we do," Sunset declared, rising to her feet. "We're going to win the Vytal festival this year and... and lots of other awesome stuff, too."
"Totally!" Jaune agreed. He hesitated. "Uh, Sunset?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you... can you teach me how to act the right way around here, around people like this?" Jaune asked. "I don't want to spend this whole vacation embarrassing Pyrrha in front of her mom, or anybody else."
Sunset was silent for a moment, her eyes gazing into Jaune's. "Sure. I'll teach you the basics.” She got up off the bed. “Now, why don’t we start with where you messed up before: with a bow?”
Jaune bent his back.
“No, not yet, you have to stand properly before you can bow,” Sunset informed him. “Straighten up.”
Jaune stood up.
“No, don’t just stand up,” Sunset informed him. “Straighten up.”
“What’s the difference?” Jaune asked.
“The difference is in your carriage,” Sunset told him. “You’re not a servant, cringing before your superior – so don’t cringe, whatever you do – you are a gentleman, showing courtesy to our hostess. So straighten your back, chin up- not to that ridiculous extent!” Sunset snapped as Jaune raised his head towards the ceiling. “Your father told you women appreciated confidence; didn’t he ever teach you how to be confident?”
“Not really.”
“Then look at me; I’m confidence,” Sunset declared. “Look at the way I hold myself.” She tugged upon her jacket. “No one is more a princess than me.” She posed for him for a moment. “Now you try.”
Jaune hesitated for a moment, and then clasped his hands together behind his back, forcing his shoulders back in turn and straightening his posture. Then, slowly, he brought his hands back round to hang by his sides, keeping his shoulders and his back in place.
“Nicely done,” Sunset remarked. “Now, watch me: hands out on either side like so. One foot back, like so-”
“You mean like a sword stance?”
“No, this isn’t about balance,” Sunset said. “You want to cross your left foot behind your right, like a dancer, resting your toe on the floor. And now… down from the waist.”
Jaune bent his back downwards clumsily. “M’lady,” he said.
“Not like that, you sound like a butler,” Sunset declared. “’My lady,’ gentlemen enunciate their words.”
Jaune sighed. “My lady.”
“That’s better,” Sunset said. “We’ll make a gentleman out of you yet, Jaune Arc, don’t you worry. Now do it again.”