//------------------------------//
// The Hunt (Rewritten) 
// Story: SAPR 
// by Scipio Smith 
//------------------------------//


The Hunt


The night was dark, and the moon was high, but Sunset lingered in the dojo.
Sol Invictus was in her hands, the oiled wooden stock smooth upon her palms. Occasionally, her hand would slip back, and her thumb would brush against the sun of her cutie mark that she had carved into the wood and painted before the varnish went on. 
Sunset’s boots twisted upon the dojo floor, her feet squeaking as she turned this way and that, jabbing, striking with the butt, fighting with shadows. She fought with the butt, she fought with the bayonet, she fought with both ends of the rifle and the middle, trying to force her body to move faster, be lither, and respond more readily. 
She should have been resting. She should have obeyed her own orders. She should have taken her own advice. But this wasn’t like Jaune. She wasn’t wearing herself out night after night. This was just a one-time thing, no different than cramming for a test. 
Study before the test, sleep after. That was how you got the grades.
And this was a test. It was a test with stakes, but a test nonetheless. Lady Nikos’ test. Her test that Team SAPR was worthy of Pyrrha. 
And Sunset did not mean to fail. 
Not again.
She brought her rifle down upon the head of an imaginary grimm. She would prove herself worthy of this team; she would prove to Pyrrha that they were stronger together than Pyrrha was alone. She would keep the team together. 
She would win. 



Professor Lionheart had clearly passed on Sunset's instructions to Cinder, because she was waiting for them outside the house when the party of five – the members of Team SAPR and Lady Nikos – emerged from the gate the next morning.
"Good morning, my lady," Cinder said, as she bowed to Lady Nikos. "Lady Pyrrha, it will be an honour to hunt alongside you. Thank you for giving me this opportunity."
"Pyrrha, please," Pyrrha murmured. "There is no need to stand on ceremony in these circumstances."
Cinder smiled. "As you wish, Pyrrha; I look forward to seeing you in action." She turned her attention to the other members of the team. "All of you. I hope that you live up to your nascent reputations."
"Oh, we'll give you a good show, don't worry," Sunset said. "We'll give you such a good show you should have brought a picnic hamper instead of weapons. Are you ready to go?"
"I'm always ready," Cinder declared.
The rosy fingers of dawn were just laying their touch gently upon the city as the party headed towards the skydock. Ruby yawned. Sunset had, after her late-night practice session, managed to snatch a few extra minutes in bed by the simple expedient of not making much effort to get ready; she had washed swiftly, and her hair resembled a bush, or possibly looked as though it had been dragged through one.
Pyrrha looked not only as fresh as ever but as perfect too; she and Cinder were well matched in both looking as though they rolled out of bed and into their stylist's chair. Lady Nikos, on the other hand, looked as though she could have used a little more rest than circumstances had allowed her.
"I'm sorry for the early start," Sunset said, "but-"
"But we must find and kill this creature quickly," Pyrrha declared. "If it is allowed to continue preying on defenceless herdsmen and husbandmen, if it descends into the valleys and begins to stalk the farmers, then the whole area will descend into panic. And panic will bring even more grimm."
Sunset nodded. She could still remember how scared she'd been when she first came to Remnant and found herself sharing the world with these monsters: so scared that she had come closer than at any point to crawling back through the mirror, kissing the hooves of Princess Celestia, and crying forgiveness for all the wrongs that she had done. It was easy to forget that fear, once you had your aura unlocked and were given a little training; it was easy to forget how menacing the grimm were. Even one beowolf would be more than capable of slaughtering an entire family alone in their shepherd's cottage on the hillside.
"Does Professor Lionheart have any way of summoning back any professionals to defend the city?" Sunset asked as they walked.
"Even if he could, would he?" demanded Lady Nikos. She wore armour similar to that of Pyrrha, except that there was less protection afforded to her legs, and the cuirass was set with what might be costume jewels or, considering the wealth of the Nikos family, perhaps even real ones. The armour no longer fit her perfectly, but neither did it fit so poorly that she could no longer wear it at all. Strapped across her back, she wore the sword that Sunset had seen on her desk. "I cannot understand what goes on in that man's mind."
"Since Mistral seems in need of more huntsmen than it currently possesses, perhaps an approach should be made to the Atlesian forces based at Argus?" Cinder suggested silkily. She was wearing grey pants and a beige, sleeveless jacket which she had left unfastened, revealing that she had – for whatever reason – decided to forsake a shirt in favour of binding up her breasts with bandages to preserve her modesty. Whatever, if she wanted to dress like that, then that was her business. More important were the pair of scimitars and the bow that she carried, all three weapons strapped to her back across her waistline. "I'm sure that some specialists could-"
"This is Mistral, girl," Lady Nikos declared with a derisive snort. "Our strength is not so diminished that we are dependent upon the protection of Atlas. We address our own problems here."
"I'm well aware of how Mistral solves its problems, Lady Nikos," Cinder replied, and for a moment, her voice lost its smoothness and acquired an edge of anger, but it was one that was gone as soon as it had come. "Still, I'm surprised to hear that you don't trust Atlas. After all, they're only here for our protection. Aren't they?"
"Forgive me, Cinder, my lady," Sunset said, "but although you might have the energy for a spirited discussion on geopolitics and international relations, I'm not sure that this is the time or the place."
Cinder smiled. "Of course, Sunset, you're quite right. A thousand pardons, my lady."
They arrived at the skydock, the same skydock that they had docked at when they arrived in Mistral the day before yesterday. An airship was waiting for them, another of the primitive-looking, almost Equestrian-seeming Mistralian airships with the double hull that had carried them into the city. Waiting at the docking pad also was a fox faunus who, like Sunset, was possessed of the ears and tail alike of the animal whose traits she had been imbued with. Her hair, her face, her entire visible body was a colourless white, all save for the striking crimson of her eyes and the pink eyeshadow she was wearing in the 'winged' style with which Pyrrha enhanced her eyes. The faunus girl was dressed in a brown leather cuirass and bracers over a robe of pale blue, with a tiger-stripe sash tied around her waist. There was a bow slung across her back and a short dust-blade at her hip.
"Lady Nikos," she said. "Lady Pyrrha." She glanced at Ruby. "Miss Rose. I did not realise you were in this company."
"Yep," Ruby said. "I'm a member of Team Sapphire."
"Led by me, Sunset Shimmer," Sunset declared. "That's Jaune Arc, rounding out the team, and Cinder Fall of Team Clementine of Haven. And you are?"
"Camilla Volsci, of Rutulian Security," Camilla declared. "Most of our operatives are in the field. I have been asked to defend the city with what remains while you go forth, but I would rather join you on your hunt. I would kill this beast as far from the city as can be managed, and my semblance, Farsight, may be of use to you."
"Are you willing to follow my lead?" Sunset asked.
Camilla regarded her evenly. "I am older and more experienced-"
"And this is my team," Sunset declared. "My team. My responsibility. You can follow my orders, or you can stay here and defend Mistral as you were asked."
Camilla looked past Sunset. "What say you, Lady Nikos?"
"I say that Miss Shimmer is in command," Lady Nikos said. "We are all mere adjuncts to her team."
"I see," Camilla said softly. "Very well. My bow and sword and all my skills are at your service, Sunset Shimmer."
The now seven-strong party boarded the airship without further question or complaint, and the vessel rose gracefully up into the sky and carried them over the stepped levels and the high towers of Mistral. As they flew east, towards the sight of the most recently reported attack, Sunset noticed that the land beneath them seemed emptier than it had seemed - albeit from a greater distance - only a few days before when they flew into the city. Then, even from a distance, Sunset had been able to see not only the farms in the valleys but the shepherds on the heights of the surrounding mountains. But now, as they flew over the eastern mountains, the ridges seemed bare, empty of life, save for the occasional goat or sheep wandering lost and abandoned across the rolling hills.
"Have all the people fled to Mistral so quickly?" Sunset asked.
"Indeed," Pyrrha said softly. "In times of peril, the city has always been a refuge for those who dwell around it. It is expected that they should seek the protection of the walls when grimm or enemies come near, just as it is expected that the gates will be open to admit them."
"They will return," Camilla added. "Once the danger is passed."
"Some will not return," Cinder said. "Or else we wouldn't be here."
True enough, Sunset conceded mentally. Although perhaps it would have been better if you hadn't said so.
"Does anyone have any idea what sort of grimm it is?" Jaune asked. He was standing in the centre of the airship's passenger compartment, far from the edges and the view of the ground.
"Nobody knows, do they?" Sunset said with a glance at Cinder. "Professor Lionheart didn't mention it to us; did he say anything to you?"
"No," Cinder said. The wind blew her long, dark hair this way and that, so that at times, it was even possible to see her other eye. "The attacks have been on shepherds' huts, isolated farmsteads; there are never any survivors to describe the attacker, and the attacks are always at night, so the beast isn't seen."
"If there are no survivors, then who reported the attacks?" Sunset asked.
"A son coming home from the market to find his father's house broken into and all within killed," Cinder explained. "A neighbour, of sorts, who waited until morning to investigate the screams that he heard in the night."
"Two Rutulian Security personnel investigating an alarm being triggered at a prosperous farm," Camilla added.
Cinder concluded, "Just because there are no survivors doesn't mean that nobody ever finds out."
"But people showing up after the fact can't tell us what's doing this," Ruby muttered.
"So, there's still a chance that this just a beowolf?" Jaune asked.
"Could be," Sunset allowed, "but I doubt it."
"Do you?" Lady Nikos inquired. "What makes you say that, Miss Shimmer?"
You can never stop testing, can you? Sunset snorted, although she hoped that Lady Nikos didn't notice. "To start with, this thing is smart: it knows that it can do more damage, spread more terror, by killing at night when it can move unseen. That means that it's probably old, and an old, smart beowolf would be smart enough to join a pack. But if this is just one grimm, it's probably from a species more comfortable alone: ursa, deathstalker, maybe a beringel. We'll know more once we get to the sight of the last attack. Jaune?"
"Yeah?"
"Any ideas?" Sunset asked, with a glance at Lady Nikos.
Jaune blinked. "Uh... if it's only attacking at night, then...that means it must be resting during the day, somewhere quiet. Somewhere it hides, like a lair or something. If we can find the lair, we find the monster, right?"
"Right," Sunset agreed. She watched as Lady Nikos' nodded in approval. I think we picked up a couple of points with that.
Shortly after, the airship began to descend close by a ruined wooden house, reduced to ruin. All four walls had been smashed in and the roof brought down; rubble and debris were strewn across the landscape, along with… more pitiful and wretched things than broken wooden boards.
"This is as far as I take you," the pilot called from the cockpit. "When you want pick-up, use the flare to signal, and someone will come and get you."
"Understood," Sunset replied. "We'll see you soon."
The airship dropped to within a couple of feet of the ground, allowing the huntsmen to dismount easily and close by the house. It was clear immediately that this was the work of grimm: not far from the house, there was a paddock still full of sheep, baaing as they milled about, trying, without success, to escape from their wooden restraints. No mere predator would have bothered to break into a house to kill those inside while leaving all those sheep, but grimm didn't bother with animals unless the animals bothered them first. Presumably, that was why the sheepdog had had its head ripped - or bitten - clean off. It had tried to protect its master and had paid the price for its canine loyalty.
"Spread out and search for tracks," Sunset ordered.
They did so, searching the area around the destroyed homestead, forcing themselves to go closer to the place then they might have liked, to the point where Sunset could see traces of blood amongst the ruins. While they were searching, Ruby sliced through the chain holding the sheep pen shut with Crescent Rose and released the creatures out onto the grass around.
"I mean… they're not comfortable where they are, and they'll go hungry if no one comes to take care of them," Ruby explained when she caught sight of Sunset's inquisitive look.
Sunset thought that someone would have come and claimed them as soon as the immediate crisis was over - which hopefully would be soon; she didn't intend to spend weeks hunting down this creature - but Ruby had a kind heart, and there was no point protesting what she had already done. Whoever came to claim the flock would simply have to round them up, that was all. Although Sunset would confess to a small degree of wry internal amusement when one particularly fat ovine repaid Ruby's trouble by attempting to eat her red cape. Pyrrha came to Ruby's rescue and shooed the sheep gently but firmly away before it could do any real damage.
It was Camilla who found the tracks: large, heavy prints belonging to a creature with what looked like three hooves on the ends of each foot.
"Not a beowolf, then," Jaune murmured.
"Nor an ursa or a deathstalker," Sunset said.
"Do you know what it is?" Ruby asked. "You're the one who pays attention to Professor Port."
"If he's mentioned this one, I can't remember right away," Sunset replied. "Or perhaps he hasn't gotten around to it yet. We are supposed to have four years learning, after all," she added, with a sharp look towards Pyrrha. "But… no, I can't say what it is."
"Nor I," Cinder said lightly, sounding very unconcerned about her ignorance. "It must be a rare grimm indeed."
"Even if we cannot identify the creature, we know its direction," Camilla said. "The tracks lead northeast. That's where we'll find the creature's lair."
"Agreed," Sunset said. "I'll lead, then Pyrrha, then Jaune, then Ruby; Cinder, Camilla, the two of you bring up the rear."
"Of course," Cinder said.
"As you wish," Camilla agreed.
"Where is my place?" Lady Nikos asked.
"As you like, my lady, so long as it is neither ahead of me nor behind Cinder," Sunset said, in a tone that mixed command and respect in hopefully equal measure.
"I will not interfere with your dispositions," Lady Nikos assured her.
"Then there is no reason for us to remain here," Sunset declared. "Let's move."
They walked all day. Sunset had had some doubts; she would confess internally if not aloud, that Lady Nikos with her injured leg would be able to keep up the pace, but it seemed that with her aura activated as it was now, her limp didn't trouble her as it had done inside the safety and security of her house. All to the good, because it seemed that this beast could move quickly across the country. More quickly than they could, for though they trekked all day across the Mistral mountainsides, across the slopes of the Caelian and the Esquiline mounts, they did not come to the grimm's lair, nor catch up with it on the way to the same, nor even catch sight of it running ahead of them, not even with Camilla's long-sighted semblance.
It was a small relief that they didn't see any signs of the destruction the beast had unleashed either. They passed no more destroyed cottages, no more signs of death and destruction. Not on that route, anyway. They came across no other people, but if there had been other victims since the latest known attack, they saw no sign of them. And, seeing no signs, they could tell themselves that there had been no other attacks.
They crossed the mountains, passing above valley villages that seemed quiet, farmland that seemed devoid of workers. The grimm might not have done any more damage along this way, but already, terror had spread from it like a vicious miasma and overwhelmed the people who huddled behind their walls and their locked doors as though they would protect them.
"When, of course, the only ones who can really protect them from the grimm are us," Cinder said as she came to stand by Sunset's side. She smiled. "The ones with power and the will to use it as we see fit."
Sunset looked back at the other girl, over Sunset's own shoulder. "How did you know what I was thinking?"
"Because I was thinking the same thing," Cinder replied. "Little people, clinging to their walls, to their locked doors, to the so-called safety of their homes, to their plans to survive, their contingencies; clinging to false hope."
"As you put it yourself, hope is what sees us through," Sunset said softly. "Sometimes, it's all we have, however false or unfounded it may be."
Cinder's one visible eyebrow rose. "You mean that you would be as foolish in their position?"
"I hope to sun and moon never to be so helpless as those people are," Sunset said. But I have been foolish in my desperation in the past.
Cinder stared down at her for a moment. Then she flashed her teeth in a brief smile. "No, you're not helpless, are you? We are neither of us helpless. We're the ones with the power, the ones who will decide the future of those below."
Sunset had the distinct impression that she wasn't just talking about their geographical location relative to the town below.
The sun was setting by now, and they had no way of knowing how much farther it was until they found the grimm's hideout.
"We'll make camp for the night," Sunset decided. "It's likely this grimm can see better in the dark than we can, not to mention that once it stirs from its lair, we'll have no way of finding it."
"But if we stop," Ruby protested, "won't the grimm go out and attack again?"
Sunset held Ruby's gaze. "We can't save everyone."
The two of them stared at each other. Ruby didn't quite argue against her, but it was clear from the look in her eyes that she very much wanted to. Even if her mind accepted Sunset's point, her heart rebelled against it.
Sunset said nothing more, because she knew she was right, and she thought that Ruby knew that she was right, and all she had to do was wait for Ruby to accept it.
"Sunset-" Ruby began.
"We'll save nobody if we blunder into an ambush," Sunset said sharply. To push through dark, to do whatever it took, might be the righteous thing to do. It might even be the right thing to do. But Sunset was certain that her decision was the smart and the safe one, and so, that was what they were going to do.
Depending on how much further the hideout was… if it looked like this hunt was going to go on for several days, then she might consider night-marching to bring it to an end faster, but not tonight.
Tonight, they would rest.
Ruby bowed her head. “Okay. I guess.”
No one else offered any objection, and Lady Nikos seemed to prefer watching what they did than interfering, and so, they made camp out on the grassy mountainside as the sun fell and the darkness descended all around them.
Jaune, who had always excelled in the field craft class even before he'd started putting any work in at anything else, made their fire and cooked their dinner. As she watched him work, Sunset reflected that one of the advantages of operating straight out of Mistral on this impromptu little mission was that they'd been able to bring some fresh produce with them rather than having to rely on ration packs or MREs. Jaune had even obtained some novel spices and seasonings from the Nikos’ kitchen and was trying some of them out, adding them to the boiling pot with the chopped up vegetables.
"Smells good," Sunset said.
"Indeed," Lady Nikos murmured. "You appear to have some talent as a cook, young Mister Arc."
"Thanks," Jaune said. "My mom taught me to... I mean, uh," He cleared his throat. "Thank you very much lady, compliment gratefully... accepted."
"Hmm," Lady Nikos murmured, her expression leaving it quite up in the air whether she approved of Jaune's talent in this field or disapproved of anyone who wasn't wealthy enough to employ their own chef.
Cinder's amber eye seemed to glow in the descending light. "Isn't there any meat?"
Jaune glanced up at her. "Not in here. You see, Sunset-"
"I'm a vegetarian," Sunset explained.
"Ah," Cinder replied, "and you've imposed your choices on your teammates. That's your privilege as leader, I suppose."
"To an extent, I suppose," Sunset said. "I've no problem with them eating meat; I just won't have them forcing me to eat it as well."
"Pyrrha needs meat," Jaune said. "I was going to fry her some sausages-"
"Oh, Jaune, you don't need to go to so much trouble for me," Pyrrha said.
"Then perhaps he can go to the trouble for both of us," Cinder murmured. "If you don't mind."
"No, it's fine," Jaune said. "I was just about to make the offer."
"Much obliged," Cinder said.
"Ruby?" Jaune asked. "Miss Volsci?"
"I'll be fine," Ruby said. "What's in the pot smells delicious."
"'Camilla' will do," Camilla said softly. "And I, too, will be content."
Cinder said, "I confess that you've surprised me, Sunset; I didn't figure you for the type to feel compassion for animals."
Sunset smiled. "As an animal myself, eating them feels a little too close to cannibalism for my liking."
Cinder chuckled. "Wouldn't that make cannibalism the natural state of the world? All creatures prey on those weaker than themselves, and humanity, as the strongest of all animals, preys upon all the rest and devours them."
"Except for the grimm, which prey on humanity and devour them," Sunset pointed out. "So who's really the dominant species around here?"
"That," Cinder declared, "is a question that has yet to be answered, isn't it?"
"I suppose so," Sunset said. She paused for a moment. "Looking ahead a little: Jaune, you take the first watch. I'll take the middle, and Pyrrha the last." It was Sunset's opinion that the middle watch was the hardest, as you didn't get a period of uninterrupted sleep either at the beginning or the end of the night.
"I should take the middle watch; I'm fresher than you," Pyrrha said.
"Then you might as well stay that way tomorrow; I'll be fine."
"What about me?" Cinder asked. "I could take on all three watches, if you like?"
Sunset's eyebrows rose. "You don't need sleep?"
The firelight danced in Cinder's eye. "I am driven beyond the need for it. Have you ever felt so hungry that you can't sleep, because your stomach is paining you too much to let you?"
Sunset frowned, if only a little. "Once or twice, a little."
"I have a hunger in me that will not let me rest."
"Well, see how you feel after you've tried my cooking," Jaune said, a slight smile playing across his face.
Cinder snorted. "That isn't the kind of hunger that I'm referring to." She glanced at Pyrrha for a moment, and then looked away again.
"I'd never be able to guess that you were an insomniac to look at you," Sunset said. "Thank you for your... kind offer, but I think we'll manage to keep our eyes open."
"You don't trust me to watch over you safely?" Cinder asked.
"With me, I'm afraid trust takes a little while to be earned," Sunset replied. "It's nothing personal."
"Of course not," Cinder said. "Trust is a commodity too precious to be spent frivolously or without thought. Why, some might even argue that you trust me too far; you don't know me and yet you will let me fight alongside you."
"We know that you're a huntress in training, just like us," Ruby said. "And so we know that you're ready to fight for humanity, just like us." She smiled. "So already, we know a lot about you."
Cinder's lips twitched upwards. "And so every huntress or huntsman in training is valiant and noble?" she asked. "A trustworthy ally in the fight against the grimm?"
Ruby nodded. "We're all the same. No matter why we came here or what our reasons were, we're all in the same place, to do the same thing, for the same goal."
"We are the heirs to the heroes of song and storybook," Pyrrha said, "and in the tales, the heroes are always noble."
"And in the tales, it is always summer, but in the real world, winter comes," Cinder replied.
"For farmers and for shepherds, maybe," Sunset declared, "but not for the likes of us. Or do you, too, not dare to dream that ambition may win out against all obstacles strewn in its path? What do we hope for, if not that we may defy this stale, hard rock called life, withstand all efforts it may make to crush us, and shape it to our dreams and dear ambitions?"
The firelight danced in Cinder's visible eye. "I knew there was a kinship between us," she said. "We may succeed, or we may fail and, in the failing, fall into despair… but either way, it should be quite something to watch us try."
“At what cost?” Pyrrha asked softly.
Cinder did not reply. She looked at Pyrrha with what seemed almost like confusion in her fire-illumined eye. “I do not understand.”
“What price will you pay to achieve your ambitions?” Pyrrha demanded, and though she was looking at Cinder, Sunset had the distinct impression that she was talking to Sunset too. “What price will you force others to pay to achieve your dreams?”
“Some dreams are worth paying for,” Sunset said softly.
“That is not for the dreamer alone to decide,” Pyrrha declared, not taking her eyes off Cinder. “What of those who must carry your dream? What of those who might suffer so that you can achieve it?”
Cinder leaned forwards. The fall of her hair cast more of her face in shadow than was concealed by it. “And how many have suffered at your hands, for your ambitions?” she asked, her voice quiet and silky. “How many dreams have you crushed in the arena?”
Pyrrha pursed her lips together. Her voice, too, was soft. “That is not the same thing.”
“If you care so much about the dreams of others, then cast your weapons aside and let Arslan Altan take the champions’ crown,” Cinder suggested.
“That is not the same thing,” Pyrrha repeated, her voice sharpening like Miló’s tip. “I… I hope it is not the same thing.”
“You do not dream of trophies and gilded laurels,” Camilla declared.
The corner of Cinder’s lip twitched upwards. “I fear you could not conceive of what I dream of, Lady Camilla.”
Camilla had been lounging backwards, her arms folded across her chest, but now, she sat up. “I was ward to the late Lord Rutulus before his untimely death; I am a faunus, but I am no stranger to people of ambition. I know the difference between a lust for baubles and a desire to change the world.” 
“Bauble, you say?” Lady Nikos demanded. “Is that what you think of the trophies and the gilded laurels that are the prize of victory?”
“Is it not so?” Pyrrha murmured.
Lady Nikos did not hear, or else, she pretended not to hear. “What is it that we leave behind us when we are gone?” she asked, of no one person but of all the assembly gathered around the fire. 
“Family,” Jaune said. “We leave our families behind us, if we’re lucky. The people who love us and will remember us when we’re gone.”
“If we are fortunate,” Camilla whispered. “For myself… forgive me, Lady Nikos, but I think it matters not. When we are dead, then we are dead. My honoured Lord may be said to live on in my memory, and even more in the memory of his splendid children, perhaps in those who knew him well and loved him just the same… but he is dead and dust, and in the cold crypt, he lies beneath our house. Why waste time then on how we will be remembered? Let us rather live well while we can, obedient to good conscience and to honour.”
“But then that’s the answer,” Ruby said. “The way we live, the things we did, that is what we leave behind us. The people we saved, the people we inspired.”
“Ah, but that just passes the problem on to someone else,” Cinder replied. “You leave them behind, but what do they leave behind?”
“The memory of our deeds will live on after us,” Sunset said.
“Only if they are recorded,” Pyrrha replied. “Is that not what you set your mark at, Mother?”
Lady Nikos nodded. “All across Mistral now, there are huntsmen and huntresses, in small villages and quiet towns, armed and ready to defend them against the grimm. How many people in Anima know their names? My husband, Pyrrha’s father, gave his life in battle against the grimm, and how many people recall his name, compared with how many would recognise Pyrrha’s face in a photograph? The deeds of the heroes are of less import than the tales that will be told of them when they are gone, and there are no tales for ordinary huntsmen, not any more.”
“Huntsmen are the heirs to the heroes of song and story,” Ruby said. “To Olivia and all the heroes like her.”
“And yet, there will be no song made of you, as there was for Olivia,” Lady Nikos said, although she sounded slightly melancholy at the fact. “No one will write the Song of Ruby Rose, and no eager young girl will read it.”
Don’t be so sure, my lady; they will sing a Song of Sapphires yet, I swear it.
“So?” Ruby asked. “So long as we act like heroes, then does it matter if people remember that we were heroes?”
“Where will the next generation of heroes come from, if none are remembered from the days before?” Lady Nikos demanded. “Will the same stories be passed down from one generation to the next, growing all the more stale with each telling?”
“Have we in Mistral not told the story of The Mistraliad from one generation to the next?” Cinder asked, a touch of amusement in her voice.
Lady Nikos almost smiled. “True, Miss Fall, but how many other tales from that day have lived on? None of such antiquity. Only the most venerable of the old stories endure; the rest are crowded out of the collective memory of our realm by newer stories and newer heroes. In every generation, our great families strive for greatness, and the deeds of each generation are recorded for the inspiration of those that come after. Miss Volsci, it is true that your… that Lord Rutulus is as dead as my husband, but the fact remains that he is interred within the crypt beside his ancestors, and he will be remembered as a lord of the Rutulus family while the line endures. And so it is with that which you deride as baubles, the crowns and laurels of our most ancient tradition, the arena. To be a champion, to dedicate the spoils to Victory in the temple… is to be immortal.”
“A paragon of virtue to rise above all others,” Jaune said.
He had spoken quietly, but not quietly enough that Lady Nikos did not hear him. “Indeed, Mister Arc. Has Pyrrha spoken with you of this before?”
“Uh, kind of, um, my lady,” Jaune admitted. “I, uh… I’m not sure that I agree.”
“Your family will not be around forever, Mister Arc,” Lady Nikos reminded him. “One day, they too shall pass, and what will you leave then?”
“Nothing,” Jaune admitted. “But by that time, they’ll have left something, hopefully. The next generation crowds out the one before, just like you said. I’m sure it sounds great, being immortal like that, but what do you have to do to get it?” He glanced at Pyrrha, but did not hold her gaze for long. “What do you have to suffer to get it?”
“Suffering should be no barrier to achievement,” Lady Nikos declared.
“But perhaps harming others should,” Pyrrha added.
“Should our freedom end where that of others begins?” Cinder asked. “If it were so, would we not all live our lives trapped in a kind of amber, constrained by the sheer mass of bodies that press close all around us?”
“Better that than we should hurt them by our indifference to their lives in pursuit of our goal,” Pyrrha said.
Cinder did not reply to that. Instead, she said, “If I may, Lady Nikos, I too would take issue with you. What we leave behind… what we ought to strive to leave behind, is so much more than just our name in a book or a monument.”
“Then what should it be instead?” Sunset asked.
“The change in the world we made,” Cinder explained. “To leave Remnant a different place than you found it, to have transformed it by your deeds… that is a legacy to take pride in.”



As everyone else bedded down to sleep, Jaune took the first watch. As everyone else lay down and closed their eyes, Jaune stood up and turned his gaze towards the edge of their makeshift camp, looking out into the darkness in case any peril came that way.
Of course, he wasn't alone in not sleeping. Cinder had proved as good as her word to Sunset: she did not lie down. She just sat, staring into the fire even as it began to die, the diminishing flames continuing to dance in her one visible eye.
Jaune glanced at her, then looked away again before she saw him staring. He thought that she knew anyway. There were times when he thought that she was looking at him, but he could never actually catch her doing it.
From the smirk that played across her face, she was enjoying this.
Jaune turned his back on her and focussed on the task at hand.
"Family, huh?"
Jaune didn't look around. "What?"
"When Lady Nikos asked her question, you said 'family,'" Cinder repeated. "Family is what we leave behind when we are gone."
Jaune put one hand on the hilt of Crocea Mors. "I… I guess I did."
"Is that your dream?" Cinder asked. "A wife and a gaggle of children playing at your feet?"
Jaune hesitated for a moment. "I… I wouldn't say no," he replied.
"Then what are you doing here?" Cinder asked sharply. "Did you come to Beacon hoping to find the future Mrs Arc?"
"I came to Beacon because I wanted…" Jaune began. He stopped, saying that he wanted to be a hero sounded childish in front of this person he didn't know. He settled on, "I wanted to do my part."
Cinder was silent for a moment. Jaune didn't hear her get up. He didn't realise that she was coming towards him until she was standing beside him. "You realise that you'll probably die in this line of work long before you actually have a family to remember you?"
"You don't know that," Jaune said.
"I know the likelihood," Cinder said. She paused. "And so do you, don't you?"
Jaune breathed in and out. "Yeah," he said. "I'm not stupid; I know what I've gotten myself into."
"And yet here you are," Cinder murmured. She smiled. "Let me guess… lots of brothers and sisters."
"Sisters," Jaune confirmed. "Seven of them."
"How many of them have children already?" Cinder asked.
"Two," Jaune said.
"So you're okay with the fact that you might die before you get a chance to have children of your own because you think that your nieces and nephews will remember brave Uncle Jaune?"
"I'm okay with the risk because…" Jaune glanced at Cinder; she was still smiling. "Because I'd rather die than let my friends down."
"How gallant of you," Cinder muttered dryly. "Troth is the highest thing a man may keep. Truly, a sentiment worthy of a latter day knight."
Jaune chuckled. "I'm not a knight."
"You're dressed like one," Cinder remarked. She looked him up and down. "Or… like a parody of one, at least. Did you and Sunset shop at the same place for your armour? I've never seen anything quite like it."
"I don't know," Jaune admitted. "I mean, I know that this is a little… bargain basement, but in my defence, I didn't have a lot of money when I bought it."
"Obviously," Cinder said. "But you were trying to look like a knight, weren't you?"
"I… I guess," Jaune admitted. "But I was so stupid back then that I try not to think too hard about what I was thinking."
"Past stupidity has that effect on the best of us," Cinder agreed. "What's it like, being on a team with the likes of Pyrrha Nikos?"
Jaune glanced at her. "Are you asking me if I feel overshadowed?"
"Do you not?" Cinder asked. "Some might even feel emasculated."
Jaune snorted. "Maybe at first, but… not anymore."
"No?"
"Pyrrha… is better than I am," Jaune conceded. "A better huntress, a better person… you could say the same thing about Ruby and Sunset. Well… maybe just the better huntress part, in Sunset's case. I know that I can't be their knight, but that doesn't mean that I can't stand alongside them. I think… I think if Ruby were awake, she'd say that it didn't really matter who the best of us was, so long as we saved people."
"Would you consider starting your family with any of them?" Cinder asked.
Jaune made a strangled squawking noise. "What kind of a question is that?" he hissed.
Cinder shrugged. "Two of them are attractive young women. You're," she looked him up and down, "male."
Jaune shook his head. "That… that's not going to happen." He waited a moment. "What about you, do your plans to change the world not include a family?"
Cinder was silent for a moment. She looked away from him, and the smile faded from her face. "I… I cannot have children. An accident, when I was young."
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," Jaune apologised. "I didn't mean to bring back any bad memories, I just-"
"You didn't," Cinder assured him, even as she cut him off. "My memories… are always with me. You cannot bring them back, any more than you could send them away again. They simply… are. I will never have a family," she said, "but I will leave a monument of my existence for generations yet unborn."



Sunset rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand as she sat up. The night was quiet; there wasn't even the sound of an owl screeching in the darkness. Sunset grabbed Sol Invictus from where it lay beside her as she got to her feet. She tried to be quiet, but nevertheless made enough noise that Jaune turned towards her.
"Everything quiet?" Sunset asked.
Jaune glanced towards Cinder, who sat beside the dying embers of the fire. "Pretty much, yeah."
"Get some sleep," Sunset told him.
"Right," Jaune said. "Goodnight, Sunset."
"Goodnight, Jaune," Sunset said quietly, as she made her way to the edge of the camp, cradling her rifle in her arms. She looked back at Jaune as he lay down. Before long, he was out like a light.
Sunset turned away from her slumbering companions, casting a spell upon her eyes to let them penetrate the dark. The world turned green before her eyes as the darkness stood revealed to her.
"He's the weak link, isn't he?" Cinder asked softly.
"There are no weak links on my team," Sunset declared.
Cinder laughed quietly. "Your loyalty to your teammates is admirable, but all men are not created equal."
"When I finally get to meet your team, I'm going to spend some time slagging them off so you can see how it feels," Sunset muttered.
Cinder continued chuckling. "You're assuming that it would bother me if you did."
"It would bother you," Sunset averred.
"Oh? And how do you know that?"
"Because they're your team, and as much as you might affect a blasé attitude now, you wouldn't actually like me to make fun of what's yours," Sunset said. "Not your team, not your weapons, not your dress sense, which deserves to be made fun of, quite frankly."
"Says the girl wearing an armoured bra."
"In the first place, it's a breastplate, not a bra, and in the second place… at least I'm wearing a bra," Sunset replied.
"I take it that inadequate piece of metal was all you could afford," Cinder said. "Considering that you're less well-equipped in that regard than the would-be knight over there."
"There are times," Sunset conceded, "when we must cut our cloth."
"Indeed, at least in material terms," Cinder admitted. "When it comes to the things that really matter, though… we must keep the scissors firmly on the table."
Sunset's lip twitched upwards, for all that she had her back to Cinder, preventing the other girl from seeing it.
"How did you find it?" Cinder asked. "Being a team leader?"
"Oh, it was easy," Sunset lied. "I took to it like a duck to water."
"So did I," Cinder said, and Sunset couldn't tell if she was being only as honest as Sunset herself or not. "It's a curious thing, isn't it, to suddenly be responsible for others after being responsible to no one but oneself?"
Sunset was silent for a moment. "It… it turned out to be more of a weight than I was expecting."
"Really?"
"You don't just get to ride your teammates' achievements to glory," Sunset said. "You have to… their lives are in your hands. We walk the line between triumph and disaster, with lives at stake and no one to blame but ourselves."
"You really think you might fail?"
"You don't?"
"No," Cinder said simply. "I know I won't fail. I won't allow myself to fail."
"I wish I had your confidence," Sunset said quietly.
"I'm a little surprised you don't," Cinder replied. "And, I must confess, a little disappointed."
Sunset snorted. "Haven students don't get sent on as many field missions as Beacon students, do they?"
"No," Cinder conceded. "Nor do we get ourselves into battles with the White Fang."
Sunset was quiet for a moment. I don't owe her an explanation. I don't owe her anything.
But if I don't explain myself, she'll think I'm just weak.
"My first field mission was going up against a small horde of grimm," Sunset explained.
"Even a small horde must have been an intimidating sight for a first year student," Cinder said.
"I didn't face it from the front," Sunset replied. "I came up with a plan to sneak around the flank of it, kill their leader, and break the horde so that it would scatter across the forest rather than hit Vale."
"Daring and imaginative," Cinder declared. "I like it."
"Except for the part where I hadn't thought of a way for us to get out again," Sunset said. "If our teacher hadn't been monitoring our progress, then we wouldn't have made it out of the middle of all those angry grimm." She sighed. "And in that battle against the White Fang that you're so fond of mentioning… it might have put Team Sapphire on the map a little bit, but… but it almost got Ruby killed."
Cinder took a little while to reply. Her voice was soft. "I didn't know that. What happened?"
"A faunus with a red sword," Sunset growled. "He came at me. His semblance… he froze me up, like a bird hypnotised by a snake. I couldn't move, I couldn't… he held me in place while he came to cut me down. Ruby pushed me out of the way, but then… his red sword cut right through her aura. If it hadn't been for Jaune… I led my team into a fight, and I nearly got one of them killed."
"So what are you going to do about it?" Cinder demanded. "What are you going to do about the faunus with the red sword?"
"I'm going to kill him, obviously," Sunset said simply, "and I'm going to play it safe where my team is concerned."
"Glory doesn't come from playing it safe," Cinder declared. "Immortality does not accrue to those who play it safe."
"Neither will death."
"Don't be so sure," Cinder whispered. "You can play it safe, you can be cautious, you can quit Beacon and live as quietly as any mouse… but death will lay his hand upon you all the same."
"So what?" Sunset asked. "Live like there's no tomorrow?"
"Fight like you don't care whether you live or die," Cinder said. "Ironically, it might be your best chance at staying alive."



Pyrrha’s eyes snapped open. She was on her feet almost immediately.
“One of these days, you’ll have to teach me how you do that,” Sunset observed with a touch of amusement in her voice.
“That would require me to know how I do it myself,” Pyrrha replied. “It’s just… something I was born with.”
Sunset snorted. “The girl with all the gifts.”
“I suppose you might say that,” Pyrrha murmured. “Is there anything that I should worry about?”
“No,” Sunset said. “It’s been all clear.”
“That is good news, for us at least,” Pyrrha said softly. “Goodnight, Sunset.”
“Goodnight,” Sunset replied quietly, as she put her rifle down beside her and curled up on the ground. It seemed to take her a while to actually go back to sleep. One of the perils of taking the middle watch. 
Pyrrha found herself watching her teammates as they slept - even Sunset, eventually - all around her. Her eyes found Jaune, fast asleep, his face looking so noble. 
A part of her wanted to run one hand through his hair. A much larger part of her knew that if she actually did that, it would be very odd and rather disturbing. 
“If you want to do something, then don’t mind me,” Cinder said. “I won’t tell, still less object.”
Pyrrha turned to face her, where Cinder sat beside the cold, dead ashes of the fire. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” Pyrrha murmured.
Cinder smirked. It was a rather ugly thing to Pyrrha’s eyes. “I saw you at the party together,” she said. “You were… well, I don’t need to tell you what you were feeling, do I?”
“No,” Pyrrha said, quietly and somewhat coldly. “You don’t.”
“He is a handsome young man, I suppose.” The smirk slid slowly off of Cinder’s face. “'Friend of my soul,'” she murmured. “'If, being away from this war, we might live unchanging and unbound by death, I would not send you forth thus into battle that brings renown to princes, nor would I fight in the foremost ranks myself; but, being that ten thousand fates of death surround us, let us go, and either fall yielding glory to another or else gain great honour for ourselves.'”
“The Mistraliad, book twelve,” Pyrrha said quietly. “Laodamia to Bellerophon.”
“Indeed,” Cinder said. She was quiet for a moment before she added, “Laodamia commits a fallacy, don’t you think? The question is not whether or not she will die - that is inevitable - but when. By quitting the battle, she and Bellerophon might not have lived forever, but they would have lived far longer than they did; Laodamia perished that very day as Camilla rampaged through her lines, and Bellerophon was slain in the battle for the corpse and armour of your namesake. How much more time might they have had, if they had only turned away?”
“What are you saying?” Pyrrha asked.
“That you could turn away,” Cinder said, as though it were obvious. “Take your beautiful boy and quit this place, and all other fields of war besides. Retreat into your inherited wealth and the splendours of your ancient name. Live without the fear of imminent death.”
“I cannot do that,” Pyrrha said.
“Why not?” Cinder asked. “Are you so confident in your skills that you truly think yourself invincible?”
“No,” Pyrrha declared, “but my duty demands it.”
“Ah,” Cinder acknowledged. “'Duty,' of course. I should have known, Lady Pyrrha.”
“You don’t need to call me that,” Pyrrha said.
“You would disclaim the title but claim all the responsibilities of a lordly station?”
“If it is hypocrisy, it is at least a benign sort, no?” Pyrrha replied.
“I suppose,” Cinder conceded. “If you were sincere.”
“Excuse me?”
“Does my… ” Cinder paused, a laugh escaping her lips. “Do you recall the Kommenos family?”
“Yes,” Pyrrha replied, distracted from her outrage. “Phoebe… I will not claim to be her friend, but what happened to her mother and sister - not to mention all of their retainers - was a terrible tragedy.”
“Indeed, to die by fire,” Cinder murmured. “As you say, a tragedy. Mother, sister and retainers.” She looked away from Pyrrha, into the ashes that were all that remained of their fire. Cinder looked back up at Pyrrha. “You never answered your mother’s question. You elaborated, but you never answered in your own right.”
“Because I have no settled and no certain answer,” Pyrrha explained. “All of the answers of my friends have at least some merit. For myself… I cannot be sure. I fear… I do not know what I would like to leave behind when I am gone.”
“If that is all you fear, then you are truly blessed,” Cinder said. “For in this world, after all, there are so many other things to fear, and worse besides.”
“Perhaps,” Pyrrha conceded. “Perhaps… no, I will admit it, I am well blessed in many things.” She glanced down at the slumbering Ruby. “Would you please relieve me, briefly? I need to speak with Camilla.”
Cinder cocked her head very slightly to one side. “Very well,” she agreed, and turned her back on Pyrrha, turning her face outwards to the night and all that it might hold. 
“Thank you,” Pyrrha whispered, as she knelt down at Camilla’s side. She did not nudge her; she didn’t want to provoke a reaction by giving Camilla cause to think that she was being attacked. She did not know the Rutulus ward too well, but there were things that everyone knew that, well, that Pyrrha shuddered to think about.
But it was not Camilla who concerned Pyrrha at the moment, but rather Juturna. Pyrrha did not know the daughter of House Rutulus particularly well either, but from her reputation… Pyrrha knew it was hypocritical of her to judge anyone by her reputation, but nevertheless, when it came to Ruby, she was inclined to be cautious. 
“Camilla,” she whispered. “Camilla.”
Camilla’s eyes flickered open, focussing in on Pyrrha. “Lady Pyrrha,” she murmured.
“I don’t think there’s any need to stand on ceremony, do you?” Pyrrha replied.
Camilla was silent for a moment. “No. I suppose there is not. Is something amiss?”
“No,” Pyrrha assured her. “Cinder has taken over watch, while I… I wish to speak with you briefly.”
“About what?” Camilla asked, her voice calm and quiet.
“About Juturna Rutulus,” Pyrrha admitted. “I understand that she gave Ruby her scroll number.”
“Yes,” Camilla acknowledged. “As I understand, they mean to play games across the CCT network.”
“Do you disapprove?” Pyrrha asked. “Will… will Turnus disapprove?”
“For my own part, it is more harmless than many other things Juturna might do to amuse herself,” Camilla murmured. “And, while I would not dare to speak for Turnus, it is my experience that he denies Juturna very little that she sets her heart on. If you fear that he will look down upon Miss Rose as an unsuitable acquaintance, you have little to be concerned with. I shall tell him myself that she is a girl of good character.”
“It is not Ruby’s character that concerns me,” Pyrrha murmured.
Camilla’s red eyes narrowed a little. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that Ruby is very dear to me,” Pyrrha declared. “She is… the best person I know, brave and kind in equal measure.” She is the paragon that I aspire to be. “She is not a new toy to be thrown aside when Juturna grows tired of her.”
Camilla was silent for a moment. When her voice came, it was calm and controlled, but with a sign that that control was requiring some effort. “You are bold to say such a thing to me, who holds Juturna as dear to me as Ruby Rose seems to you.”
“Nevertheless, I must say it,” Pyrrha said. She did not add that, while Juturna Rutulus was the sort of person who never suffered any consequences for any of her mistakes - the sort of person around whom the world contorted itself to accommodate her - for Ruby, it was not so. Instead, the consequences would fall upon the likes of Ruby, an outsider. But that would have been more urgent if Ruby had had more opportunity to spend time alone with Juturna; for now, Pyrrha was more concerned with how Ruby would react if Juturna suddenly grew bored of her. 
Again, Camilla took pause to consider her reply. “I have no wish to face you in a duel,” she admitted candidly.
Pyrrha could not help but observe, “You faced the underworld of Mistral without hesitation, but you profess to fear me?”
“My duty to revenge compelled me to face the underworld, and no gutter rat enjoyed your reputation,” Camilla said. “Nor had I seen any of them fight with your skill with mine own eyes. But I do not think you need to fear; Juturna… can be very accepting of outsiders.”
“Are you sure?”
“Am I not proof enough for you?”
“Yes,” Pyrrha admitted. “I’m sorry. I-”
“Care for your friend,” Camilla said. “That is not a thing for which to apologise. In your place, I would be asking the exact same thing.”



The night passed. They heard nothing, saw nothing, and were left with no way of knowing if anyone had paid with their lives or not for Sunset's decision to stop for the night. Sunset was not normally a fan of ignorance, but in this particular case, she was thankful for it. Whatever she told Celestia or Twilight, she wouldn't include this particular detail of their working holiday – it wasn't that it was the wrong decision; it hadn't been – but it wasn't the right decision either, and she had a feeling that her old teacher and Celestia's new protégé might not... appreciate the practicalities that had motivated her.
She didn't know the consequence. She didn't want to know.
Regardless, as soon as dawn broke the next day, they broke camp and set off again, following the trail of the grimm with three hooves upon each foot. Sunset had flicked through a grimm bestiary last night, while on watch, but she hadn't come across anything that suggested to her what it might be. The print was familiar, scratching a kind of itch at the back of her mind, but she couldn't remember what it was, and she hadn't been able to find the right entry in the bestiary that would detail it for her. She dismissed the idea that it was some novel, as yet undiscovered species of grimm; she didn't believe that their luck was anywhere near that bad. All the same, she hadn't found the right entry in the book.
I know the answer, it's in here somewhere. So why can't I remember it?
Beowolf, no; ursa, no; deathstalker, no; boarbatusk, no; creep, no; manticore, no, that can fly, and so can a sphinx; anyway, none of those have hooves. What kind of grimm has hooves?
The answer nagged at her, but also hid from her view in spite of her best efforts to drag it out into the light of conscious thought, as the party tracked the prints left in the ground until, a little after midday, they arrived at a cave, a gaping hole in the mountainside descending into the bowels of the earth. The mouth of the cave was wide enough to accommodate an old grimm, swollen with years, and even with the sun at its zenith, the darkness seemed to begin close by the cave mouth, engulfing whatever lurked within in black as impenetrable as the depths of the ocean. Anything might lurk within, even the entrance to a lost subterranean civilisation.
Or just a murderous monster of an as-yet unknown kind.
"That, uh, that sure is a cave," Jaune said as they stared into its blackness.
"Mmm, very astutely put," Sunset muttered, masking her nerves with a touch of unnecessary cruelty. It's okay. It's just one grimm. It's just one grimm.
It's probably just one grimm.
Even if it is a few more, you've got this. You're you, and you've got Pyrrha and Ruby and Jaune to recharge your aura, and Professor Lionheart said that Cinder was one of his best students.
And it's just one grimm.
One old and clever grimm.
But you've still got this.
With Lady Nikos watching, you can't afford not to have this.
Sunset frowned as she raised Sol Invictus to her shoulder. The feel of the rifle butt against her shoulder was reassuring, the weight of the wood in the hands comforting. "Okay, I'm fairly certain that this thing can't fly, since it walked all the way to its kill and back. Therefore, we haven't much to lose by drawing it out into the light. So I'll go in and lure it out. The rest of you wait out here." Sunset discounted the risk of the grimm fleeing from them once it was outside the cave; while old and experienced grimm would avoid picking fights that they might not win, once battle was joined, the creatures of grimm tended to fight to the death - theirs or someone else's. "Weapons ready; I don't plan on being long."
Jaune drew his sword; his shield snapped outwards from his scabbard. "Do we have a plan for when it comes out?"
"Remember the drills we practiced, once we know what we're dealing with," Sunset said.
"Will you be alright in there?" Pyrrha asked, as she slung Miló and Akoúo̱ from off her back. "You can't see in the dark; perhaps Camilla-"
"Has a bow, so she'll better staying back where she can use it once I've lured the thing out," Sunset replied.
"That doesn't change the fact that you can't see in the dark," Pyrrha said.
"Actually, I've been working on that," Sunset said. "I think I'll be okay." She took a last look at them: Pyrrha and Jaune with their weapons ready, Ruby with Crescent Rose unfurled in all its majesty, Cinder and Camilla with arrows on their bowstrings, Lady Nikos standing a little further away with her sword drawn. Then she looked back into the impenetrable darkness lurking within.
Sunset Shimmer closed her eyes and cast her night-vision spell.
She felt a tingling in her eyeballs as though she had pins and needles in them, and when she opened them again, the world was tinted green, the sunlight was irritatingly, almost blindingly white in the corners of her vision. She could already see a little way into the cave, enough to see the rough, uneven, stony surface within. Enough to see a few bones scattered around the cave mouth.
"Sunset," Jaune said. "Your eyes-"
"Yeah," Sunset said, guessing that the appearance of her pupils had changed. That was an unfortunate side effect. "Wait here," she said. "I'll make this quick."
Sunset crept into the cave, rifle raised and held before her. There were no sounds but her own, and even the mildest scuffling sounds of boots upon the floor seemed to echo in the cave like thunder as she advanced.
She walked forward; but even with her enhanced vision, she saw nothing, and even with four ears, she heard nothing.
She slipped on something that she thought was probably, uncomfortably, a bone, and had to struggle to keep her footing. She dislodged some pebbles on the cave floor, which rattled as they bounced downwards into the dark. The sound of their bouncing echoed down the tunnel, down and down and down.
The sound died down. For a moment, all was silence.
For a moment.
Sunset heard something. A thud, low and deep and heavy.
They hadn't missed their quarry, nor had they been wrong about it spending the day in hiding to avoid being seen. There was something here, something in the darkness, and it was moving somewhere out of sight. Thud. Thud.
It was moving quickly, and it was coming towards her. Thud, thud, thud. The whole cave seemed to shudder with the thunderous footfall.
And then she saw it. And once she saw it, she knew exactly what it was.
"Karkadann!" Sunset yelled as the grimm erupted out of the darkness towards her at a flat run. It had the body and the hind-legs of a horse, but its forelegs were immense, trunk-like things like great trees or the legs of a rhino, each with three hooves at the end of the immense, broad, heavy legs. Its equine head was a white mask, armour-like plates of bleached white bone protected its chest and shoulders, while a ridge of bony spikes erupted from out of his black back. Red eyes burned like fire in its sockets while a jagged horn, like the horn of a unicorn but crooked in shape, longer than a lance and with a serrated edge, emerged from out of the forehead between the eyes, a little lower than the placement of a unicorn's horn that Sunset was familiar with. The karkadann opened its mouth, revealing a row of sharp teeth, and screamed a high-pitched whinnying scream.
Sunset squeezed the trigger once, twice; the flash from the muzzle of Sol Invictus was blinding to Sunset's night-vision, but she couldn't have missed; that thing was too big to miss.
But equally, it was too big to be stopped by two bullets. Sunset dropped to one knee, planting her rifle butt on the ground like a pike and flicking the switch to extend the spear. The bayonet leapt forward on its eight foot pole, transformed into a full pike now as Sunset waited for the impact.
Blinded by her own muzzle-flashes as she was, Sunset felt, rather than saw, the karkadann strike her out-stretched spear, and she felt, rather than saw, her bayonet point skitter off the armoured bone protecting the grimm's chest and merely score its side, making the demon shriek even louder in pain. As her vision returned, Sunset saw it continuing to charge straight towards her with a fury in its eyes.
Sunset teleported away, reappearing at the mouth of the cave with the others in a flash of green light.
Sunset closed her eyes as she dispelled the night-vision spell, screwing her eyelids tight shut before the sun could blind her. "Here it comes!" she yelled.
The pounding of hooves on the ground told them that the karkadann was not far behind her.
Miló's rifle barked twice, Crescent Rose roared, and Sunset opened her eyes in time to see Camilla loose three arrows in swift succession into the darkness before the karkadann emerged from out of the darkness and into the light with a great shriek as though to merely stand in sunlight caused it pain.
Sunset fired again. As the karkadann charged, Pyrrha and Ruby rushed to meet it, Pyrrha’s hair streaming behind her like a banner as Miló switched from rifle to sword in her hand, Crescent Rose drew back for a mighty swing. The scythe blade skittered off the grimm's armoured chest, the sword sliced shallowly through the black flesh, before the karkadann's rush bowled them both over, knocking them back and flying over the grass as the grimm stopped, prancing proudly as it gazed down upon them with contempt in its burning red eyes. Smoke gathered around it as though it were aflame.
The karkadann growled as it advanced on Pyrrha. 
Cinder loosed two arrows at once, which lodged in the grimm's flank but seemed to do little beyond enrage it so much that it let out another ear-splitting screech. Jaune charged with a great answering shout, howling wildly as she slashed equally wildly with Crocea Mors at one of the karkadann's immense forelegs to distract it. The karkadann roared and reared, preparing to bring its immense hooved forefoot down upon him.
Pyrrha was there in a flash, her red hair flying and the sunlight glimmering upon her bronzed armour as she shoved Jaune out of danger and thrust her spear upwards into the soft frog of the karkadann's foot. The karkadann howled, and Pyrrha leapt out of the way, her spear transforming into a sword as she sliced at where its hamstring would have been had it been a beast.
The creature retreated backwards a step or two as it swept its head down, using its great serrated horn like a sword. Pyrrha both blocked and parried, using her own sword and shield together as the karkadann's horn crashed into them. She was not overwhelmed, but she was pushed backwards, her feet leaving track-marks in the earth as she tried in vain to stand her ground against its hideous strength.
Camilla fired an arrow into the grimm’s shoulder, and it must have been tipped with fire-dust, for it exploded in a bright flower of flame. 
Ruby rushed forwards in a burst of rose petals, slashing at the grimm's hindquarters with her scythe. The karkadann shrieked and lashed out with its hind leg, kicking Ruby square in the chest to send her sliding across the ground. But while it did so, Pyrrha had escaped from out of reach of its horn, slashing furiously at its forelegs with Miló in sword-mode.
Another of Camilla’s fire dust arrows blossomed in flame above the karkadann’s head.
"Jaune, get to Ruby!" Sunset snapped. After two nasty hits, her aura could probably do with a boost.
"Right," Jaune said, but the karkadann stood between him and Ruby, and if it couldn't understand what Sunset had just said, it could sense their intent nonetheless, because it seemed to plant itself between the two of them, roaring in Jaune's face as he tried to reach Ruby’s side.
Pyrrha hurled herself upon the beast; Akoúo̱ was slung across her back, and Miló was in spear form; she gripped the weapon in both hands as she slashed with it like a polearm, clashing against the karkadann's horn as though the grimm were some tournament rival with a serrated blade. The grimm rounded on her, thrusting at her with its horn, trying to trample her beneath its mighty feet, but Pyrrha was too swift for it, and too nimble. The sunlight gleamed off her armour as she parried every thrust of the horn, her red sash whirled around her as she leapt away from every blow meant to crush her, jabbing with her spear, and whether she struck bleach bone or black mass, she had the karkadann's attention now. The grimm paid no attention as Jaune rushed around it to Ruby's side and covered her body with a golden glow from his hands as he stimulated her aura.
"Cinder, cover them," Sunset snapped, gesturing their way.
"Understood," Cinder replied and dashed around the karkadann to place herself between Ruby and Jaune and harm in case the karkadann grew bored with Pyrrha.
Sunset teleported, emerging above the creature, descending the couple of feet to its back. She balanced precariously between the bone spikes jutting upwards, wobbling as the grimm shifted in place, and jammed her weapon downwards into the nape of its neck, then she fired her fourth shot for good measure.
The karkadann roared, pain and fury mingling in its cry, then it reared, immense forelegs thrashing, kicking at the empty air as its back became practically vertical. Sunset lost her grip on Sol Invictus, then on the spine spike for which she had reached instead as she was hurled off the back of the karkadann and landed in a heap on the ground. Sunset scrambled to her feet as the karkadann slammed its forelegs into the ground so heavily that the earth trembled, and all of her companions of the hunt were jolted off balance by the trembling.
Jaune cried out, "Sunset, I have an idea. Can you hold it for an Arkos Spin?"
Sunset huffed. Can I hold it for an Arkos spin? Can I hold it? Yes, I can hold it; have some faith in me! "Of course I can hold it, get ready. Pyrrha! Fall back!"
Pyrrha didn't question. The moment Sunset's words reached her ears, she retreated, backflipping to the rear faster than the karkadann could pursue.
Sunset bared her teeth in a snarl, and she shouted in anger as she fired bolt after bolt of green magic into the monster's hindquarters. "Here! Here, come at me you sorry, stupid, pathetic fake imitation unicorn! Come and get me!"
Her magical attacks didn't seem to cause the karkadann visible harm, but judging by the way that it swung its head back to glare at her, she'd certainly made it angry.
That was the general idea. This thing was tough. It was old and strong, and their best hits didn't even seem to be slowing it down. They needed something special to kill it, something special like the 'finishing moves' that they'd started devising specifically for big, tough grimm just like this one.
The karkadann began to turn its head back towards Pyrrha before Sunset hit it with another burst of magic from her palms. "Oh no you don't. I'm the one you want," Sunset growled. "Look at me, only at me." She continued to fire magical blasts, which did little except irritate the grimm - in fairness to Sunset, she wasn't exactly giving it full power; she had to conserve her magic for what was about to come - enough that it ignored everyone else and wheeled about until it was facing down Sunset, ready for a charge.
Sunset grinned. Watch closely, Lady Nikos, and marvel at what a great team we are.
She held out her hands and stretched out all her power, wrapping it around the karkadann's head like a lasso and pulling down hard upon it with her telekinesis. It was a struggle; it always was when you were talking about a living target, especially one as strong as this one. The karkadann fought back; it resisted; it tried to rear up; it tried to move its neck. But gradually, inch by excruciating inch and foot by exhausting foot, as sweat dripped from her every orifice, Sunset forced this monster's head downwards until... until the lance-like horn was pointing straight at her.
Pyrrha and Jaune were circling around the karkadann now, the two of them slowly closing in on one another, but the beast didn't notice either of them. No more did it notice Ruby, who was circling the karkadann on the other side, or any of the others who waited warily but did not interfere. All that it noticed was Sunset, whom it stared at with naked hatred in its eyes.
It charged at her. Sunset was only holding its head down, not the rest of it still. It charged at her, intent upon smashing through her aura and impaling her upon its massive horn.
Sunset let it come. She let it come as the earth shook and its feet pounded on the ground. She let it come, and then, at the last moment, she turned aside and grabbed the onward-thrusting horn with both hands, and she held on.
She held on as the serrated edge tore at her aura. She held on as the karkadann fought to raise its head. She cast a heavy-gravity spell, an inverse of the reverse-gravity spell she could use to get herself in the air, to weigh herself down. Even so, the grimm's strength was amazing; Sunset gasped as she felt her magic disappearing as she held on.
Cinder came to her aid, swords in hand, burying both blades into the black oily flesh of the karkadann's neck and hauling downwards upon it, her arms straining as she pulled.
Camilla loosed a quartet of arrows in swift succession, arrows tipped with ice dust that landed one by one at the base of the karkadann’s legs, where the blue dust erupted forth in spiky crystalline icicles, freezing the grimm’s feet to the ground and binding it fast.
"Pyrrha!" Sunset shouted. "Now!"



For Pyrrha Nikos, time seemed to slow as she charged forward across the grass. There was no hesitation. No doubt. They had planned this, they had practiced this, and it was going to work. In a few heartbeats, this would be over. She felt as she had felt so often in the arena, when she had seen with perfect clarity what needed to happen and all that remained was to make it so, when her heartbeat slowed to a calm pulse and all the world slowed with it.
One heartbeat, two heartbeats.
Her loping gait carried her across the grass. Akoúo̱ was slung across her back, and Miló was in sword form in her hand.
Three heartbeats.
"Pyrrha, catch!" Jaune cried as he threw his own sword towards her. Pyrrha caught it deftly in her off hand.
Four heartbeats.
Pyrrha leapt into the air. Jaune lifted his shield up over his head, his knees bending.
Five heartbeats.
Pyrrha landed gracefully upon Jaune's shield, resting both her feet upon it like a diving board.
Six heartbeats.
Pyrrha's knees bent, and she felt - rather than saw - Jaune's semblance stimulating her aura, strengthening her legs, increasing the power at her command. He bent, and she bent, and her legs overflowed with power.
Seven heartbeats.
Pyrrha leapt. Jaune rose up, using his whole body to fling her upwards, even as Pyrrha jumped with a strength enhanced by Jaune's stimulation of her aura.
Eight heartbeats, nine heartbeats.
Pyrrha rose into the air, a cool sensation washing over her face. She closed her eyes.
Nine heartbeats.
Pyrrha opened her eyes again as her leap carried her upwards. She began to twist her body with a grace that a gymnast or dancer might have envied.
Ten heartbeats.
Pyrrha began to fall.
And as she fell, she spun.
She descended, spinning in the air as she did so, her sash wrapping around her waist, the light glinting off her swords. She fell like a thunderbolt from heaven upon the neck of the karkadann and, spinning, sliced clean through its neck until she landed with a pounding thump upon her feet and the grimm's lifeless trunk thumped to the ground beside her.
Sunset let go of the creature's head as it began to dissolve into smoke.
Then she whooped as she raised her hands. "And that," she declared, "is how team Sapphire does it!"
Cinder clapped her hands together once. "A formidable performance," she said. "You are all exactly as formidable as I thought you would be."
Pyrrha's eyes narrowed. Cinder Fall had never been less than polite, but nevertheless, there was something about her that Pyrrha didn't like. Actually, there was more than one thing, and Pyrrha could name them: her arrogance, her unabashed contempt for other people, a philosophy that left Pyrrha wondering why someone like her would want to become a huntress... and perhaps too the many uncomfortable ways that she reminded Pyrrha of Sunset. What Sunset had been and what she might become again. Pyrrha didn't want to lose her friend to the influence of one who was too like her for comfort; nor did she really want to be reminded of what Sunset had been. Sunset... Pyrrha meant no insult to say that she felt as though Sunset needed the company of the good to be good, and Cinder Fall had too much about her that seemed not good to Pyrrha for Pyrrha to feel easy in her company.
Her thoughts were derailed from that, however, by the approach of her mother.
Pyrrha's back straightened. "Mother."
Her mother was silent for a moment. "Your individual skill has not improved since I last observed you."
"No, Mother."
"But that last... your forethought is to be commended as your coordination is to be envied. Well done. Well done, all of you."
It was all that Pyrrha could do not to sag with relief. "Thank you, Mother."
"Yes, thank you, my lady, you honour us with your praise," Sunset said, bowing.
"I honour you with nothing but your deserving," Lady Nikos.
"That is kindly said, my lady," Sunset replied.
"Can what you deserve be kindly given?" Camilla asked. "As Lady Nikos says, you deserve thanks. Not only from Lady Nikos but from Mistral.” She sheathed her blade. "I know not if Mistral will grant you its thanks, but for my own part and on behalf of the Rutulus family, you have my thanks." She bowed to Pyrrha. "Champion of Mistral indeed."
Pyrrha felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "It was an effort by our entire team."
"And what a team you are," Cinder declared. "Team Sapphire is certainly a team to keep an eye on, and if the world doesn't already know it, then I have a feeling that it soon will."