SAPR

by Scipio Smith


The Protectors of Mistral

The Protectors of Mistral

Four Months Earlier…
Jaune heard the door close behind as Pyrrha left the room. A part of him wondered why he hadn't gone with her. Okay, he knew why he hadn't gone with her: it was because Sunset had asked him to stay for a little longer. What he didn't get was why Sunset had asked him to stay. What did she have to say to him that she couldn't say in front of Pyrrha?
Sunset stood in front of him, swaying a little from side to side, looking unsteady on her feet. More unsteady than she'd looked a moment ago, as though she'd been trying to hold it in for Pyrrha. Just how much had that transfer taken out of her, and why? Why did giving away the power of the Fall Maiden look as though it had taken ten years off her life expectancy?
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.
"I told you," Sunset said. "I'll recover. All of this is just..." she waved one hand in front of her. "It's a temporary side-effect of losing the magic. I'll be back to my old self soon."
"Will you?" Jaune asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Will you really?"
Sunset stared at him. "There are times I preferred it when you were dumb as a post, you know that?" she said. "I will recover...mostly."
"Then why do you look as though you’re about to turn to dust?"
Sunset laughed sarcastically. "Because magic transfer is the hardest thing that any unicorn can do; not the most complex thing, but it is the hardest. It's like...cutting off an arm or chewing your own foot off. That's probably why no Maiden ever gave away her powers like this before."
“Then why-”
“Because like you said it’s no good to me in here,” Sunset said. “Because she needs it. Because she deserves it. Because...it doesn’t matter now, what’s done is done and I didn’t ask you to hang around so that we could go over it again.”
“Okay,” Jaune said quietly. “Then what did you ask me to hang around here for?”
Sunset was silent for a moment, her chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply in and out. "You've got a good heart," she said. "I don't know if I've ever told you that."
"Thanks," Jaune said softly.
"And now I need you to put it away in a box," Sunset said. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."
"Huh?" Jaune murmured, eyebrows rising into the cover of his fringe.
"I meant what I said to Pyrrha," Sunset said. "It's all up to her now. Professor Ozpin's dead, Ruby...Ruby's broken..." she stopped, a look of guilt crossing her weary face. She turned away from Jaune for a moment as she ran her hands through her hair that lacked its usual lustre. Her tail, too, was dimmer than normal as it spasmed back and forth in a motion that seemed almost involuntary. "And I'm in here," she added. "Atlas is going home, and who knows when or even if they'll be back; and when you two get to Mistral, you're going to find Lionheart's a traitor. You said it yourself; there's no one you can rely on. No one to cover for you, no one to trust, just you. Just her. She's the whole of it now; it all depends on Pyrrha. The world needs her...and she needs you."
"She's got me," Jaune said. "Until my last breath."
"I know," Sunset assured him, turning to face him once more. "But what kind of you? What kind of Jaune Arc does she have?" She approached him, closing the distance between them. "You've got a good heart, Jaune Arc, and a strong soul, but Pyrrha doesn't need a soul; she's already the soul of all of us, and she doesn't need a heart either, because she has one, a great one, maybe the best one. What she needs," Sunset added, as she tapped Jaune on the side of the temple with one finger, "is a head."
"You think I'm smarter than Pyrrha is?"
"I think you're more sensible than she is," Sunset corrected. "I meant what I said; Pyrrha has the heart of a hero, but how many heroes have been led to an early death by being over bold? You need to use your head to keep that heart alive, do you understand? Do you think you can do that for me?"
Jaune said nothing, not immediately. He...he couldn't deny knowing exactly what Sunset was talking about. Pyrrha took so many chances, so many risks; it was like she was congenitally - spiritually - unable to turn aside from a challenge, no matter how great it seemed. She had been willing to go along with destroying her soul - risking it at least - to prevent Cinder becoming the Fall Maiden; she had been willing to fight Amber and her allies with only Cinder for assistance; she had been willing to do whatever Professor Ozpin asked of her, no matter how dangerous, and now, she was going to be more alone than she had ever been with only Jaune for backup. That was why he had been glad when Sunset had given Pyrrha the powers of the Fall Maiden; that was why he wasn't going to tell Pyrrha what else Sunset had done. Yes, he understood what Sunset meant. And he understood what she wanted from him. "Yes," he said. "I'll do it."
Sunset sagged with relief. "Great," she said. "I knew that you'd get it. You know what a treasure she is...but you also know why she needs taking care of."
"I won't let anything happen to her," Jaune vowed.
"I know you won't, I trust you," Sunset said. She held out one hand. Jaune took it, and felt her grip surprisingly strong for how weak she looked. "Bon voyage, Jaune Arc," Sunset said. She grinned weakly. "And don't come back."


Present Day…
The bandits had swept down upon the village like a wolf on the fold, bringing fire and the sword, spreading terror before their coming as they brought malice with them.
And that terror and that malice had brought the grimm. 
Neptune Vasilias stood in the middle of an empty grain silo, Tri-Hard whirling in his hands before he drove the polearm blade straight into the torso of a beowolf that tried to leap down upon him from the loft. As the creature turned to ashes, Neptune was already moving, his body twisting as he thrust his spear outward into the mouth of another beowolf that had tried to creep up on him in a more stealthy fashion. 
A foot or two away, his partner, Sun, was twirling his gunchucks in his hands as he blasted away one, two, three, four shots and four dead beowolves without any of them getting anywhere near him. 
Sun blew the smoke off one of his gunchucks as he shot dead the last of the beowolves. “Pretty cool, huh?”
“Dude,” Neptune asked. “Who are you talking to?”
“That’s a great point,” Sun admitted. 
Neptune tapped the communications device in his ear. “Jaune, we cleared out the grain silo, what now?”
“Great job, guys,” Jaune said, his voice crackling a little in Neptune’s ear. They’d done what they could to patch together communications, but it was an imperfect substitute for having the CCT network functioning, and it showed. “Now, it looks like the bandits in the farmhouse and the barn have finished off the grimm that were keeping them busy, so I’m going to need you two to split up and clear them both. Sun, you take the barn; Neptune, you’ve got the farmhouse.”
“You want us each to go off alone?” Neptune questioned.
“It’s not ideal, I know,” Jaune said. “But we’re thinly stretched; as soon as she’s done with her objective, I’ll have Ditzy head over and back you up.”
“What about reinforcements?”
“Team Prawn is inbound on its way to you now,” Jaune said. “Just hold tight; she’s on her way.”
“Good to hear,” Neptune said. “We could use the assist. I mean,” Neptune grinned, flashing his teeth in his best friend’s direction. “Not that we’re going to need help from Pyrrha or Ditzy, right? Because we’re really cool guys.”
“Absolutely, really cool,” Sun said. “And we’re going to take on all of this ourselves.”
“No doubt about it.”
Sun nodded, his muscular chest rising and falling with his breath. “Well…good luck out there, buddy.”
Neptune held out his hand. His teammate took it, pulling him forward until their chests thumped together with a solid, satisfying thwack. 
“Now let’s go kick some ass!” Sun said.
They left the grain silo by the same door they’d used to enter it, dashing around the large cylinder that rose above the village. Neptune could see the farmhouse, sitting square and squat with its low sloping roof, separated from him by a stretch of open ground. The barn was a little further away. 
“I’ll go first,” Neptune said. “Draw their fire away from you.”
“You sure about that, buddy?” Sun asked.
“Yeah,” Neptune said. “Definitely.” I wish.
But it was what a really cool guy would do. 
Neptune ran out, Tri-Hard in rifle configuration raised to his shoulder as he emerged from out of the shadow of the grain silo. There was a bandit standing outside the farmhouse, looking pretty disinterested in the battle unfolding around the village as he smoked out on the grass, his rifle held loosely in one hand. Neptune fired a trio of shots, blue electric pulses bursting from his barrel to strike the bandit in the chest and knock him to the ground. Neptune quickened his pace. He could see someone moving at the window, and so he fired at it, shattering the glass and knocking a hole in the plaster wall just beside it. 
Sun had started to run too, his tail shaking behind him as he dashed towards the barn, but it was toward Neptune that the bullets flew as dark and sinister shapes appeared at the farmhouse windows, their guns cracking as they let fly. Neptune thanked whatever gods were looking out for him as they all missed, bullet strikes making the earth leap all round him, and for a moment, he danced in an ungainly fashion, his legs seeming to spasm as he leapt to avoid the bandit fire. 
Then he started firing back, spraying electric bolts from Tri-Hard across the house as Neptune found a cry bursting from his throat, a cry of anger and fear all mingled together as he charged straight towards the farmhouse, firing as he went, firing at every window, strafing his fire across the building to make those bandits keep their heads down as he charged for them. 
He was leading a charmed life that day, as none of the bullets that the brigands dared to fire while he was shooting at them hit home; they whizzed past but did him no harm as he closed the distance, his legs surging to carry him across the bare and open grass towards the farm house. He leapt over a small wooden fence, trampling over a vegetable patch, shouting and firing all the while as he covered the last few feet and burst through the farmhouse door. 
Half a dozen bandits were there, all of them greasy guys with unkempt stubble on their cheeks, wearing dirty clothes with bullet-laden bandoliers slung across their chests. 
Neptune was still yelling as he started shooting, not spraying his fire so much now because his enemies were all nicely lined up for him, but he did hold down the trigger as he fired until they were all lying on the ground, all of them lined up facing the windows or lying beneath the windows, rifles and revolvers fallen from their hands to lie beside them. 
It was a large room that served as a living room and a kitchen both, mostly bare, but there were a lot of kitchen utensils around the fireplace. There was also a wooden table, under which cowered a woman with her arms around two children, a boy and a girl, both clinging to their mom in turn, pressing their faces into her chest. 
Neptune smiled, not the smile that made his teeth glint like a movie star but the smile that Sage said didn’t make him look like an insincere creep; Neptune personally didn’t think he ever looked insincere, but he wasn’t trying to charm this woman or her kids; he was trying to get them to trust him. 
He was trying to convince them that everything was going to be okay.
“It’s okay, ma’am,” he said. He got down on his knees. “I’m with the Myrmidons, and I’m here to help. If you come with me, I can get you and your children to safety.”
She didn’t look entirely convinced. She stared at him with eyes wide, fear and suspicion both present. 
“Please,” Neptune said. He held out one hand to her. “Trust me.”
She hesitated, then nodded silently, as she handed him the smaller child, the girl.
“Hey there, kiddo,” Neptune said, as he took the girl in one arm, holding his rifle in his free hand. “Hold on tight; I’m going to get you someplace safe, okay? Jaune, I’ve got three civilians here.”
“Understood, get them to Yatsuhashi.”
“Right,” Neptune said. “Okay, follow me. If we get separated, run to the Mayor’s house.”
“The Mayor’s house?” she whispered.
“It’s where everyone is sheltering,” Neptune replied. He turned towards the door.
He heard the click of a gun behind him. 
“Huh?” he was starting to look back when six shots slammed into his back, throwing him forwards onto the floor, pinning the girl underneath him. She started to scream in fear, her shrieking drowning out Neptune’s cry of pain as he felt his aura shatter under the impact of those shots. 
Neptune groaned as he tried to get to his feet, only to feel a sharp kick in the side that rolled him over onto his back.
The woman he had taken to be the farmer, or perhaps the farmer’s wife, was now standing over him, holding a revolver she had plucked from one of her fallen comrades. She now wore a very vicious smirk. “Like they say,” she said. “A pretty face beats a dumb ass every time.”
She cocked her pistol, and aimed it between Neptune’s eyes.
There was a blur of motion; Neptune felt the air rush over him before the woman who had suckered him was hurled backwards into the wall. 
And standing over Neptune and the crying girl was a girl with short blonde hair, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with fingerless gloves covering her hands.
She turned her head to face Neptune, although with her golden wall eyes it was hard to tell if she was exactly looking at him or not. She smiled, her wordless smile conveying everything that Neptune had tried to convey to the person who had just shot him in the back. 
Ditzy Doo turned to face their enemy. “You don’t seem like a very nice person, Miss.”
The bandit woman didn’t deign to respond to that, she just raised her pistol and fired. Ditzy’s body contorted, twisting out of the way so that the shot passed harmlessly by and through the wall, then she began to move.
The bandit fired again and again, fanning the hammer with her free hand, but each time, Ditzy managed to be out of the path of the shot as though she could see it coming – maybe she could, maybe her semblance was some kind of super-reflex premonition kind of thing; it would explain how she was dodging those bullets – as she danced through the farmhouse, twisting and turning and contorting as she closed the distance with her enemy. The bandit woman snarled as she swung at Ditzy, using the stock of her rifle as a club, but Ditzy dodged that too, letting the heavy wooden stock pass harmlessly over her head before she buried her fist into the woman’s gut. 
Ditzy moved like lightning, striking so fast that her enemy couldn’t react, striking so hard that she would have been unable to stand it even if she could react, her hands and feet a blur as she pummelled the bandit into submission and left her an aura-less, unconscious lump on the floor. 
Then she walked back over to Neptune and once again put that sweet smile upon her face. “Are you okay?”
“I am now,” Neptune groaned as he picked himself up off the floor. “Lucky for me you got here when you did.”
Ditzy kept on smiling as she patted him on the shoulder. “Any time, friend.”
Neptune nodded. “Jaune, make that only two civilians, both children. And my aura’s gone.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Not at the moment, I’m not,” Neptune said.
“I understand,” Jaune said. “Get the children to safety and back up Yatsuhashi. Then Ditzy, you pair up with Sun.”
“Understood!” Ditzy cried cheerily. 


This had been going on for months, practically since they arrived in Mistral with the fleet returning from Vale. 
It had never gotten any easier for Jaune. 
He was standing in the middle of the Nikos family stable; since Pyrrha’s folks didn’t keep horses any more – a bit of a pity – and since it was a large building and since, unlike the dojo, they didn’t need it for anything, it had been the ideal space to convert into a makeshift command centre for their enterprise. A pair of holoprojectors threw up images from the MARS brand aerial drone hovering over the battlefield – over the village which had become their battlefield. 
This had been going on for months. Months of directing, months of standing here, months of watching from a great distance while his friends, while the woman who meant everything in the world to him, fought for their lives and for the people of Mistral. It had never gotten any easier. 
It wasn’t getting easier for any of them. When they had started this, they’d intended to keep it up only until the hysteria in Mistral died down and, with it, the threat of the grimm abated.
Three months later, and there was no sign of that happening. Sure, the immediate sense of danger had pretty much subsided in Mistral proper now, thanks to Pyrrha, but there was enough worry in the rest of Mistral to make up for that and keep them busy, it seemed. Jaune was inclined to blame the bandits for that: they just kept on coming, like sharks scenting blood in the water – how many bandit tribes were there in Anima anyway? – and the fear they instilled in the outlying settlements was more than enough to keep the grimm coming back to those same settlements. 
Plus, sky piracy was on the rise ever since the Atlesians pulled their fleets back to Solitas, and unlike bandits and grimm, there wasn’t even anything that Pyrrha or any of the rest of them could do about that. 
So, yeah, three months in, and Mistral was a long way from safe and secure; Jaune hadn’t expected that the fighting would ever stop completely – he wasn’t an idiot – but he had thought that, after the excitement of the Battle of Vale and the immediate aftermath of the collapse of the CCT, things would settle back down into something close to normal. He had hoped that, anyway; he had hoped that they would be able to pick up the rest of what it meant to be huntsmen in something close to peace time. No such luck. Quite the opposite, in fact; it seemed like things were actually getting worse. The reason why Sun and Neptune and the rest of them in Leuctris were so thinly spread was because their group had had two callouts to contend with today; they’d had to split their forces between Leuctris and another grimm attack upon the village of Elis. That battle was done, thankfully, but most of the people they had there would have to stay there to make the village safe against another attack, with only Pyrrha and her closest companions rushing to Leuctris to reinforce Sun and the others. 
Her closest battle companions. Which did not include him. Jaune folded his arms, and tried to keep the scowl off his face. He understood the logic behind it, especially if they were going to keep getting split between multiple fronts like this, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 
He didn’t like the fact that he didn’t have to armour up to do his part in their work for Mistral. He wasn’t wearing his armour right now, just his Pumpkin Pete hoodie and jeans. It would have felt pretentious to have put his armour on just to go stand in the command centre and give directions. 
“Uiharu, take the drone up,” Jaune ordered.“Can you give me more of a bird’s eye view?”
“Right,” Uiharu acknowledged, and she pulled on the joystick that controlled the drone flying around Leuctris. Fortunately, there were no flying grimm around today to try and take a bite out of it – Pyrrha and her mother kept the exact state of their family finances to themselves, but he knew they couldn’t afford to keep buying more drones – and the bandits hadn’t noticed it either, so Uiharu was free to fly around the village and the surrounding area as she pleased without interference, provided she didn’t fly too low. 
Jaune glanced away from the holographic feeds from the drone’s cameras for a moment to look at the little girl in her sailor fuku who sat beside him, working the drone. She was only fourteen years old, and…well, she was no Ruby, if you wanted to argue that years didn’t always equal maturity. He felt guilty sometimes about the way that they’d involved her in this, but…they did need a technical expert in house, and she wanted to help, and…they didn’t have a lot of other options. He told himself in consolation that it wasn’t as though they were sending her out into the field to fight; here in the heart of Mistral, she was as safe…
As safe as he was. 
Uiharu brought the drone up higher into the sky, both cameras pointing downwards to give him a good panoramic view of the battlefield. It could have been better – particularly if they could have brought their entire force to bear – and it could have been a lot worse. The village had grown up around a crossroads, neatly dividing it into four quadrants, with outlying farms sitting slightly further away from the cluster of houses and the like. They were pretty much holding the southern half of the village: the villagers had retreated into the Mayor’s house at the rear of the settlement, guarded by Yatsuhashi Daichi. Medea Fleece, guarded by her partner Jason Ash, had used her semblance of spectral skeletons to push down main street and drive the bandits back as far as the crossroads proper, although they’d gotten stuck at that point because there were still a lot of bandits and a lot of grimm too, and Medea’s skeletons weren’t that great. The other two members of Team JAMM, Meleager and Atlanta, had cleared the south-west quadrant, while Arslan’s former team-mates Nadir and Bolin had done the same to the south-east. Team SSSN and Ditzy Doo, he had ordered to clear the outlying buildings of any grimm or bandits who might be trying to get around behind them. 
Jaune could see Neptune and Ditzy emerging from the farmhouse with the two children now. It was a good thing he wasn’t injured or worse, but it was a wrench for Neptune of all people to have his aura break and be out of action like this. He was the closest thing they had to a sharpshooter on the battlefield, and with the outbuildings cleared, Jaune had planned to put him up on top of the grain silo as a marksman. He wasn’t an ideal choice for that role, but even if the entire force that Pyrrha had assembled under her command had been present in one place, there wouldn’t have been anyone who was ideal for that role. The truth was that – and the fact that this was going to sound incredibly hypocritical from a guy with a sword and shield didn’t make it any less true – their ranged options kind of sucked; it was as though there was a Haven policy against long-range weapons…actually, considering the importance of the Mistralian heroic tradition and the things that Cinder had had to say about Professor Lionheart, that might actually be true. Whatever the reason, the Haven students from whom Pyrrha had recruited her allies favoured close quarters combat or short-ranged firepower, and the tournament fighters were even worse equipped in respect of fighting from a distance. In the whole group, they had maybe six people who could shoot at any kind of range and only three of them were on the field at Leuctris. And one of those three had just lost his aura.
The bandits, on the other hand, were well-equipped with long-range firepower. Specifically, they had a pair of mortars set up on the high hill overlooking the village to the north, which they were using to lay down fire on the crossroads, which was one of the big reasons why the huntsmen hadn’t been able to push further north; so far, the fire was pretty inaccurate, but something would need to be done about them if they hoped to drive the bandits out.
Something would need to be done about the grimm too, but at the moment, Jaune was content to ignore them as long as they stayed in the half of the village that was controlled by the bandits. As short-handed as they were, the huntsmen had two advantages that were keeping them from being pushed back: one was that a lot of the brigands had already stopped fighting and started looting the parts of the village they had already taken, which had helped drained their attack of momentum; the other was that they were further distracted by the grimm trying to eat them, and Jaune wasn’t keen for that distraction to end before the battle did. Perhaps it wasn’t a very heroic impulse, perhaps it wasn’t a particularly huntsman thing to do, but these were thieves and murderers and the worst kind of scum in Anima, and if he had to throw them to the beowolves – no, it wasn’t even that bad; they’d thrown themselves to the beowolves; he just wasn’t going to rescue them – to make life a little safer and easier for his friends, then he’d do it. There were limits to his compassion, and these scum had reached it. He had ordered the grimm around the southern half of the village dealt with, but the north would be theirs until the bandits were gone.
“Jaune,” Sun said. “I’m in position with Jason, Medea, and Ditzy; what do you want us to do?”
 “Hold position for now,” Jaune said. “I don’t think we’re ready to move forward yet, unless you disagree.” Jaune could see a lot from up top, but Sun was the guy on the ground, and if he thought they were in a much better position than it seemed to Jaune, then he – Jaune – wanted to hear it.
“No,” Sun said, agreeing with Jaune after all. “Not yet.”
“Okay. Sit tight then; Medea’s going to have to keep keeping them busy for a little longer. Aska, are you in position?”
“I have sight of the mortars,” the lightly-accented voice of Aska Koryu came over his earpiece. “Shall I engage?”
“Not yet,” Jaune said. “I don’t want to give them time to recover from the strike. Can you see how many reinforcements they still have?” The bandits must have had their camp in the woods to the north of the village, because more of them kept streaming out of said woods, and the denseness of the forest made it impossible to tell when that flood would end. 
“Negative,” Aska replied. “I can’t see clearly.”
“Jaune,” the voice belonged to Sage Ayana. “Scarlet and I have cleared the outbuildings; it doesn’t look like there are any more grimm on the way.”
“Good,” Jaune said. “I need you to reinforce the centre and get ready to push up main street on a signal from me or Sun.” Rather than fight house to house for the remaining half of the village, Jaune planned to put the main thrust of his attack in the centre in the hope that with their centre split the two flanks would lose heart and coordination both, making them easier to drive backwards and out of the village. That was why he was waiting to send Aska in to take out the mortars; he wanted to achieve the maximum morale effect by attacking from the front and the rear simultaneously. 
“Jaune,” Aska said. “We have a problem.”
He was about to ask what the problem was, but by that point he could see it himself on the cameras as a mech strode out of the cover of the trees. 
“Uiharu, zoom in,” Jaune said. “I need a better look at that thing.”
“Uh, right!” Uiharu squeaked, and at her command the drone’s camera magnified the mech, even as Jaune’s field of vision across the battlefield as a whole narrowed considerably. 
The mech rumbled out of the trees upon a pair of treads, its body seeming squat and oddly shaped, albeit with an impressive gun mounted upon the back. At first, it seemed less like a mech and more like a tank of some kind. But then it unfolded itself - rising to its full height, even as its treads folded away into its legs - to give Jaune a good look at what it really was. It was a gangly machine, tall and slender, although it broadened at the shoulders with a pair of armoured pauldrons shaped like shells; three-pointed claws hung from the end of its hands, and three claws too sat at the end of its feet. The front of the cockpit appeared to be made of glass, although Jaune wasn’t in a good position to see the pilot. 
“How did bandits get something like that?” Uiharu squealed in disbelief.
“I don’t know, but I’ve got a couple of ideas,” Jaune growled. He was ninety-percent certain that he’d seen this thing advertised by MARS; it was called a Mantis, he thought. But that was for another time, not now. Right now, the problem was finding anyone who could stand up to that thing. “Pyrrha, where are you?”
“Five minutes out.”
“Good to hear; Ditzy, I’m going to need you to keep that monster busy until Pyrrha arrives.”
“Anything I can do to help!” Ditzy declared.
“Team Prawn, it’s going to be a hot landing when you get there.”
“What’s the situation?” Pyrrha demanded.
“A whole lot tougher than it was a second ago,” Jaune muttered.


The bandit mech strode down main street, accompanied by a mechanical stomping, clanking sound as its legs moved in an ungainly manner. 
The mech advanced, and the bandits cheered. 
Any grimm that got in its way were swatted aside with one contemptuous clawed hand. The skeletons of Medea’s semblance were scattered like chaff before it. None of the other huntsmen tried to oppose it. By Jaune’s order they held their fire, lest they draw the attention of the mechanical warrior upon themselves. 
Also by Jaune’s order, one huntress did stand her ground before it, standing in the middle of the street with her fists clenched, unarmed and unarmoured, facing down the mech as it strode towards her. 
If it had been anyone but Ditzy, Sun might have been worried. 
The mortars that had been pounding the central crossroads had ceased to fire for a moment, so the village seemed quieter, almost more peaceful as the mech advanced, accompanied by the cheers of the bandits and their jeers for Ditzy. Sun watched, peering around the corner of a house as the mech stopped, staring down at the diminutive huntress before it. 
Ditzy stared it down, a determined look upon her wall-eyed face.
The mech – and its pilot, half visible from behind the glass front of the cockpit – stared in silence for a moment. Then the mech swung back one lithe and three-clawed arm.
The arm swept down in a sideswipe motion. Ditzy leapt, letting the clawed arm pass beneath her, digging into the stone of the road and churning up the dirt beneath it. She landed nimbly on her feet. The mech turned, clanking as it moved its feet, and tried to bring its other arm straight down upon her as though it were swatting a fly. Ditzy let the blow fall so far before rolling aside, letting the claw too dig into the earth before she jumped upon the arm and started to run up it.
The mech frantically extracted its arm from the ground, both arms flailing wildly, but by then, Ditzy had already leapt, one fist cocked back to slam it straight into the transparent cockpit of the mech. 
She did no visible damage. There was a heavy thump, followed by an echoing sound like the ringing of a gong, but neither window nor mech took any visible harm. Ditzy fell to the ground, landing on her feet but clutching at her hand. 
“Ow,” she said.
The mech stepped back, and its pilot was probably aware that the cheering of his bandit comrades had acquired an impatient edge as they demanded the death of the ridiculous huntress. 
The mech raised its clawed hands and came for her again. 


And where was she during the Vytal Festival? Jaune wondered, not for the first time as he witnessed Ditzy Doo in action. It was true that she wasn’t doing a lot of damage to the Mantis, or any at all, but the fact that she wasn’t letting it come close to landing a hit on her either was pretty darn impressive in and of itself. She danced aside from its lunges, she leapt over its swiping strokes, she climbed onto its own limbs as if she was hoping to get it to hit itself – it didn’t, but that would have been nice – she made the pilot look like a complete incompetent as he flailed about trying to hit her while she dodged every blow as though it was nothing at all. It was true that she wasn’t exactly winning, but with Pyrrha and Nora getting closer every moment and it being in doubt whether any of their weapons would be able to put a scratch on a thing like that, just not losing was all that he required of her. 
And she was doing that very well.
It was a pity that the CCT was down; well, it was a pity the network was down for a whole load of reasons, but in the here and now, Jaune regretted that he couldn’t call Rainbow Dash and ask her what the deal with her fellow Canterlot alumnus was.
But since he couldn’t find that out, he would settle for being grateful; they could use all the first-rate fighters they could get.
And she was doing a good job in keeping the bandits distracted too; their unease as the fight dragged on drew a few of the grimm their way, which was always a plus, while the ones who weren’t fending off grimm were wholly focussed upon the combat between the Mantis and the huntress.
Jaune allowed himself a faint smile as he watched Ditzy leap away from another heavy blow that left a hole in the ground where she had been standing. “Pyrrha, how far?”
“One minute,” Pyrrha replied.
“Just in time,” Jaune said. “Aska, go, take out the mortars!”
“Affirmative,” Aska acknowledged, before she broke cover and engaged the mortar crews and the bandits who had been guarding them. Jaune kept one camera on Ditzy’s fight with the Mantis, while with the other camera, he watched as Aska emerged from the cover of the trees, her sword ablaze, her black-clad form like a deathly shadow as she set upon her enemies, slicing through the bandits on her way to the mortar crews, causing such alarm and confusion amongst them that grimm turned away from the village to charge up the hill. Jaune could imagine the growls of the beowolves as they slavered; he could hear in his head the pounding of their tread, but Aska showed no fear of them – at least none that was visible from above – as she wreaked her havoc amongst the rear of the enemy, and cut down grimm and bandits just the same. 
She was even more mysterious than Ditzy; like her, she was an Atlesian – an Atlesian ninja, which Jaune hadn’t known was a thing until now – but unlike Ditzy, she wasn’t even a Haven student or ex-student. Nobody knew her, nobody knew what she was doing in Mistral, but she was willing to fight, she was good at what she did, and they could use all the help they could get. Even if they weren’t about to take her into their confidence any time soon. 
Jaune’s slight smile turned into a triumphant smirk as Pyrrha’s airship swooped down over the village.


A fusillade of pink grenades flew out of the airship’s hatch, their trails forming a heart shape as they soared through the air to strike the mech, the smoke from the explosions temporarily obscuring the oversized robot from view. 
Team PRAN – pronounced prawn – leapt from the belly of the airship, landing in the middle of the street with Pyrrha in the lead and Arslan a step behind, Ren and Nora flanking them both. 
“Perfect timing, guys,” Jaune said. “Ren, Nora, I need you to lead the assault on the right flank.”
“Got it!” Nora cried, switching Magnhild from grenade launcher to hammer as she took off in that direction, leaving Ren to follow behind her. 
“Arslan, you take the left.”
“Okay,” Arslan said. “Have fun with the robot, P-money.” She winked at Pyrrha before she headed to the left flank. 
“Pyrrha-“ Jaune began.
Pyrrha smiled, for all that Jaune couldn’t see it from so far away. “I think I can guess,” she murmured, as she started to run herself, straight up the street towards the mech. 
She held out her hands; her gloves were black now, not brown, but against that, she wore gilded vambraces upon both arms now, making it easier to spot the black outline around her hands and arms as she stretched out her powers towards the mech that now emerged, a little shambling and the worse for wear, from the smoke of Nora’s grenades. 
Ditzy waved to her. “You want to take it from here, Pyrrha?”
“That’s very kind of you to offer,” Pyrrha said as she seized the robot in the grip of her semblance and pulled. 
The mech stopped. It strained against the power of magnetism. It tried to move in a manner which Pyrrha did not permit. It struggled in vain as its limbs were seized and splayed outwards like a doll seized from either side by a pair of selfish children, each determined to have it for their own. 
And like that doll, its limbs began to tear apart.
The bandits groaned in horror as their mech, their pride and joy into which they'd sunk most of their ill-gotten lien, was torn into fragments by Pyrrha’s semblance, the shattered arms and severed legs landing with great thumps upon the ground, followed by the useless trunk which landed face first in the middle of the street, the cockpit window shattering on impact. 
A stunned silence settled over the battlefield, broken only by the growling of the grimm.
“How’s your aura?” Jaune asked quietly into her ear.
Pyrrha took a deep breath. “I have enough,” she murmured. She slung Akoúo̱ from off her back onto her arm; she drew Miló and raised it above her head. “For Mistral!”
“For Mistral!” her comrades echoed as Pyrrha began to charge, dashing swiftly forwards into the midst of the enemy. 
Pyrrha bounded over the wreckage of the mech that she had destroyed, not looking back but trusting that they would follow her as they had followed her these past two months.
If, indeed, it was Jaune's plan that they should follow her.
"Okay, this is the plan," she heard Jaune's voice in her ear, broadcasting to their entire force. "Team Sun, with Ditzy, Medea and Jason, go up the centre and support Pyrrha; Arslan, Ren, wait until Pyrrha's broken through the middle and cracked their line before you begin your assault. I'll let you know when. Once I give the word, push them outwards and to the flanks, into the maw of the grimm."
"Driving our enemies to get eaten by grimm? That's cold," Nora commented.
"Do you really think they don't deserve it?" Jaune replied.
"No," Ren said, his voice even colder than Jaune's tactics.
"Then wait for my word," Jaune said. "Pyrrha?"
"Yes, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked.
"Kick some ass."
Pyrrha smiled. "I'll do my best."
The bandits were slow to react. Dismayed by the destruction of their prized mech, they hesitated, their will faltering as Pyrrha charged towards them without any hesitation. Plus some of them looked drunk already, or else burdened with loot that they seemed reluctant to discard even to fight for their lives. And perhaps they knew who she was: Pyrrha Nikos, the champion of Mistral, running straight towards them, her boots pounding upon the cracked stones that lined the village road, the circlet bright upon her brow and her sword catching the sunlight. Some of them fled before her coming, but others - hard-faced, moustachioed men with bullet-laden bandoliers and broad-brimmed hats - raised their rifles and revolvers to take aim at her. Pyrrha raised Akoúo̱, covering her face with her shield as she felt the bullets ricochet off it, slam into it; she stopped, feeling the rounds biting at her aura.
"Pyrrha," Jaune said, an edge of anxiety in his voice. "Are you okay?"
Black wreathed her arms. "I'll be just fine!" Pyrrha said, as she flung her arms out on either side of her, unleashing a magnetic shockwave that swept down the road to strike the bandits, ripping their weapons from their hands as they were hurled backwards to land with clattering crashes down the road; some of the brigands themselves were knocked back too as Pyrrha's polarity caught the bullets in their bandoliers.
"I never doubted it for a second," Jaune said.
"It's very sweet that you care," Pyrrha replied, as she resumed her charge upon the now defenceless bandits. Even more of them turned to run from here, but then she was amongst them like a fox amongst the hen house, the brigands who had thought to make prey of a village now nothing more than squawking defenceless prey against her.
Despicable. To behave like this, to live by depredation against those weaker than you, to survive by taking the lives and property of others, would be low indeed, but to do so at such a time as this, when there was so much else to fear in the world and when Mistral and its people were so vulnerable...there could be no defence of this. No defence for it and no mercy shown to it either.
Hot anger made flames spark from the tips of Pyrrha's fingers; she fought to suppress it, not because these vermin didn't deserve a taste of the Fall Maiden's power, but because she did not want to fail Professor Ozpin's trust by breaking the taboo of secrecy that he had established; arguably she had gone too far in that regard already. Pyrrha pushed that thought to one side; what was done was done, and she needed her head in the game; the moment she underestimated her opponents was the day they would make her pay for it.
She struck out with her sword, knocking one man down and out, cutting down another as he tried to flee, and spinning on her heel to strike twice with the rim of her shield one bandit who had tried to come at her from behind. She saw a man with a rifle trying to take aim at her from across the melee, but Pyrrha threw her shield at him, knocking him off his feet; without her shield, she converted Miló into rifle form and snapped off two shots to down another bandit who had recovered his pistols. She converted Miló into a spear, twirling it in hand to take down first one bandit and then another. The grimm were coming now, drawn by the fear of the brigands, the big Mistralian beowolves - they were larger here than the ones in Vale, and they moved primarily on four legs rather than two; Pyrrha wished that she had spent enough time in Grimm Studies class to understand why that was - closing in upon the melee from all sides. One of them leapt above the combat to descend upon her, claws outstretched. Pyrrha threw Miló - still a spear - to impale the grimm through the chest and bear it backwards ere it began to turn to ash. Unarmed, she ducked beneath the clumsy swing of a particularly large man and grabbed him by the belt to hurl him into the press of his fellows, toppling them beneath his impact. Another bandit aimed a pistol at her from close range, but the lightest touch of her semblance was enough to ruin his aim before she grabbed him by the wrist, twisted the pistol from his hands, and cast him to the ground beneath her. Pyrrha's hands were veneered with black as she summoned Miló and Akoúo̱ back to her arm and outstretched grip respectively, turning on her toe to decapitate a beowolf that came too close.
Her comrades had joined the battle now, and all the bandits were fleeing, pursued by grimm even as the huntsmen turned their attention to those same grimm.
"Ren, Arslan," Jaune said. "Move in, drive them from the flanks!"


Four Months earlier…
Jaune sat down on a crate, looking out over the docks. He could see a ship taking on passengers, and… was that Blake down there with her mom? Perhaps it was a ship bound for Menagerie, or her mother was getting off somewhere along the way for a different ship. If it was Blake and her mother down there. It was too far away to be sure. 
“So,” Kendal said, as she sat down beside him. “You’re going to Mistral?”
“Yeah.”
“With Pyrrha?”
Jaune nodded. “Yeah,” he repeated. “With Pyrrha.” He hesitated. “What do you think they’ll say back home when they find out about that?”
Kendal smiled. “Mom will fret, and so will most everyone else, but Dad will understand, and he’ll make everyone else understand too.” She chuckled. “Mind you, if you’d gone without me getting here in time to see you, then I’m not sure that you could have ever come home again and gotten out alive.”
Jaune snorted. “I don’t know how easy it was for you to get here, but...I’m glad you came. I’m glad...I’m glad I got the chance to say goodbye to someone.”
Kendal put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad I got to see you before you flew away to the other side of the world,” she said. “Will you do us all a favour?”
“What?”
“Write to Saphron and Terra,” Kendal said. “I don’t know if letters are going to get to Anima, but once you’re in Mistral, you should be able to get a message to Argus.”
Jaune nodded. “Sure I will. What do you want me to say?”
“Say whatever you want to say,” Kendal instructed him. “Just give them our love, tell them that we’re thinking about them. And Adrian.”
“Of course,” Jaune replied. “And Adrian.”
“And take care of yourself out in the east, okay?” Kendal said. “You and Pyrrha...you need to take care of one another.”
“I don’t think Pyrrha needs-”
“I’m serious, Jaune,” Kendal said sharply. “Which reminds me, I’ve got something for you.” She fished around in the pockets of her green jacket. “Mom wanted me to give you this,” she added, as she pulled a ring out of her pocket, an ancient band of gold set with a sapphire.
Jaune looked at it. “Mom wanted me to have this?” He grinned. “I mean, I’m not sure that I want to start wearing-”
Kendal gave him a playful punch to the arm. “It’s not for you to wear, genius. It’s for you to give to Pyrrha.”
Jaune blinked. “Give to Pyrrha...as in-”
“Yes,” Kendal said, as she placed the ring in his open palm, and pressed his fingers closed about it. “Exactly like that.”
Jaune stared down at his hand, now closed around the ring that he could feel within. “Kendal, how do I know if I’m ready for that?”
“Maybe you’re not,” Kendal admitted. “Maybe nobody’s ready. Maybe the world doesn’t give us time to be ready. Listen, I’m not Mom or Dad, I don’t know what makes a great marriage, and I can’t tell you; all I know is that if you care about her, then you have to grab the moment, not hang around worrying or wondering or playing coy about how you really feel. Trust me: if you love her, and you don’t make her yours, and...and gods forbid it, but something happens, then you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. That’s why you have to take care of one another, and that’s why you have to give her the ring, while there is still time.”


Present...
“They’re so awesome!” Uiharu cried delightedly.
“Yeah,” Jaune said. “Yeah, they really are, aren’t they?”
The battle was halfway to won by now, at least. Already, the bandits were turning to flee, some of them even casting aside their weapons as they ran. All that was left was to mop up the grimm. 
And he was almost unnecessary for that. 
But he tried anyway, coming up with a plan that used Medea’s semblance as an anvil against which the twin hammers of Pyrrha leading from one flank and Nora leading from the other could surround and crush the grimm between them.
The ones that hadn’t decided to pursue the fleeing bandits rather than stay and fight the huntsmen. Jaune had little – none at all, to be honest – sympathy for the brigands. They had chosen this life, and they could take the consequences. 
He was happy with a day that ended with two settlements saved and none of his friends killed or even seriously wounded. 
That was a good day, and he would take it gladly. 
“Great job out there, everyone,” he said. “Great job today, Uiharu.”
“Thanks, Jaune,” Uiharu said brightly. “Although I don’t really deserve to get mentioned in the same breath as Pyrrha and Arslan and the others. All I do is fly the drones.”
“All you do is give me eyes,” Jaune said. “I couldn’t do this without your help.” He grinned. “And who knows, maybe one day we’ll come against some technologically savvy bandits, and we’ll need the rest of your computer skills.”
Uiharu giggled. “That…probably wouldn’t be great news, actually.”
“Probably not,” Jaune agreed. “We’re better off facing bad guys we can beat into submission. But all the same: great work today.”
“You don’t have to make me feel better.”
“And I’m not,” Jaune said. “The reason why Pyrrha – and all the rest of them too – do this, go out there and fight, is because they understand that not everyone can. But that doesn’t mean that they’re the only ones who are doing anything. If I can’t see what’s going on out there, I can’t give directions; I can’t see if you don’t fly the drones.”
“So in a way, you’re saying I’m the most essential person there is?” Uiharu suggested.
Jaune snorted. “Yeah. Something like that.”
Uiharu laughed briefly, until her stomach started to rumble audibly. 
“You’re not so essential that you can’t take a break,” Jaune said. “Put the drone into a holding pattern and go get something to eat.”
“Thank you!” Uiharu said, sounding almost as excited about lunch as she had about their victory as she leapt off her chair. She ran towards the door, stopping in the doorway itself, framed by the light coming in from outside. “You know, you were pretty great today too, Jaune.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Jaune’s lip. “Thanks.” 
Once she was gone, he switched over to the private channel that only Pyrrha could hear. “You were amazing out there.”
Pyrrha chuckled. “You say that after every battle.”
“Because it’s always true,” Jaune said, sitting down in the chair recently vacated by Uiharu.
“Or you think that flattery is the way to my heart.”
“Maybe a little of that too,” Jaune said. “How long do you think it will take you to set up the defences around Leuctris?”
“A few hours at least,” Pyrrha replied. “Plus the repairs that are the least we can stick around for.”
“Pyrrha, I think you already went past ‘the least you could do’ when you saved the village.”
“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean we should just walk away once the battle is over,” Pyrrha said. “How are things at Elis?”
“Quiet,” Jaune said. “I’ll get in touch with Violet for a status update if you like.”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Pyrrha said gently. “Jaune?”
“Yeah?”
“You really should take your own advice.”
“My own advice?”
“I heard what you said to Uiharu,” Pyrrha said. “I think everyone did, and it was a nice thing to say to her…but she’s not the only one who needs to hear that, is she?”
Jaune leaned back in his stolen chair. “You know me too well, Pyrrha.”
Pyrrha laughed again. “Given the circumstances, I’d better, don’t you think?”
Jaune laughed too, albeit slightly nervously as he reached into his pocket and felt the ring burning a hole in it. No, I can’t propose over the radio while she’s on the battlefield.
I can’t propose at all; that’s my problem.
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess that’s a good thing.” He sighed. “But I didn’t go to Beacon to give orders over the comm from the safety of your home.”
 “I didn’t go to Beacon to become the Fall Maiden,” Pyrrha pointed out, her voice very soft to avoid being overheard. “Or to have the defence of Mistral placed upon my shoulders.”
“Um…” Jaune hesitated for a moment. “Destiny?”
Pyrrha was silent on the other end of the line. “I suppose…mmm. Now you know me too well.”
“Given the circumstances…”
“Indeed,” Pyrrha replied. “I’m very glad of it usually…except when you catch me out like this.” She sighed. “My point is that I know you didn’t ask for this. And while I asked for something like this, I never asked for it to come just like this or come so soon. I wish that there were others who could take this burden on. I wish that we had time to live as we wished, to grow at our own pace; I wish that you had time to grow into the huntsman that you wished to be; I wish that I had time to be the girl that I wanted to be. There are times I wish these burdens had never come to us…but that is not for us to decide. Professor Ozpin chose us both to bear the burdens of the world upon our shoulders; he took us into his confidence, shared the truth with us. He did us honour by that, and if we have to make some sacrifices to be worthy of that honour, then…I think we have to bear that.”
Jaune nodded, belatedly realising that she couldn’t see him on the other end of the line. “Sacrifice. You talk as if this is a real hardship.”
“I would never suggest that it wasn’t,” Pyrrha told him.
“But if you did, you might be right,” Jaune said. “I know that this is important – I sure hope it is, anyway – and I know that I’m doing more here than I could do in the field, but…you’re right, what does it matter if I feel like a coward, so long as the kingdom is protected?”
“You are not a coward, Jaune,” Pyrrha said firmly. “There is…it is true that those who give commands from the rear lines are not remembered in song or story so well as those who fought on the front lines, but the place is no less honourable or important nonetheless. The greatest of my ancestors is neither of the warriors for whom I am named, but rather the Empress Xanthe who, from her palace and her place hedged about with guards, created the Mistralian hegemony over central Anima.”
“Do you really believe that she is the greatest of them?” Jaune said.
“She is not the one that I admire most,” Pyrrha admitted. “But she achieved more than any other, and that is not nothing. Though this isn’t what you want, I ask you to bear it and to bear it proudly.”
“I can’t promise pride,” Jaune said. “But I’ll bear it, for your sake.” He paused. “Enough about me and my non-problems. How are you holding up?”
“We have won two more victories,” Pyrrha said. “I have nothing to complain of.”
“Pyrrha,” Jaune said.
“I know,” Pyrrha said. “But not here. Not where someone might hear me. We’ll talk more when I come back.”
“Sure,” Jaune said, just a little disappointed. He put some amusement into his voice regardless. “You know, I think a part of the reason I hate this is I’m jealous that Arslan gets to spend more time with you than I do.”
Pyrrha’s laughter was like the babbling of a stream. “I am tempted to tell her that you said that. Just to see the look on her face.”
“Take a picture,” Jaune said. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said. “My general.”
“If you start calling me that more often, I could get used to it.”
He could hear her fond exasperation on the other end of the line. “I have to go.”
“Stay safe,” he said. “Come back.” Because that was what he feared most, that was what he disliked most about this: the fear that he might have to watch through some camera from a great distance away as Pyrrha was cut down in the midst of her valour and her glory; and no matter how skilled she was, no matter that Sunset had passed the mantle of the Fall Maiden onto her, no matter how many bold blades lay hedged around her, he could not rid himself of that fear, and it…it was why he didn’t think that he would ever like doing this, no matter how worthy or honourable a role it was.
Sacrifices, like she said.
Which was a very nice way of telling me to pull my head out and get on with it.
Sunset sacrificed her freedom for the cause and let them put her in chains; Ruby sacrificed her sister’s life and has to live with that for the rest of hers; compared to that, Pyrrha and I are both getting off easy, and me even more than her. 
A pair of shadows fell across the stable command centre; Uiharu was back, carrying a boxed lunch and an expensive – and delicious – looking slice of cake. She was accompanied by Lady Nikos, leaning upon her walking cane. 
“Young Miss Uiharu tells me that another great victory has been won by Mistral’s finest,” Lady Nikos said, her eyes fixed on Jaune. 
Jaune stood up. “Uh, yes. Two victories actually.”
“Two victories in one day?” Lady Nikos repeated. “Yet more impressive. You are to be commended for your tactical skill, Mister Arc.”
“My lady is too kind,” Jaune said. He was getting a lot better at mastering the Mistralian manners, or at least he thought he was. He’d had no choice, seeing as he was going to be living here…forever, he hoped. “The warriors win the victories, not I.”
“In Atlas, I believe credit accrues to the general who commands more than to the soldier who obeys those commands,” Lady Nikos replied. “In Mistral it is not so, but that is not to say the architect deserves no credit at all. I do you honour, Mister Arc; accept it graciously.”
“Of course,” Jaune said, bowing his head. “Thank you, my lady.”
“And now I would speak with you alone,” Lady Nikos said. “If you will accompany me to my study, I am sure that Miss Uiharu will contact you if anything arises.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Uiharu declared. “Right away!”
Jaune was uncertain what, precisely, Pyrrha’s mother wished to speak to him about, but he had the distinct impression that her request was courtesy layered over command, like sugar to sweeten the bitterness of medicine. “Of course, my lady,” he said. “I would be…honoured.” Yes, honoured is the right word. I’m pretty sure it is, anyway.
Lady Nikos nodded briskly and then turned away, leaving Jaune to catch up with her. This he did, thanks to the fact that he was taller than she was and didn’t have an injured leg, but she paid little heed to the fact as he walked beside her across the grounds – the cherry blossoms were beginning to bloom again, just as they had when he had first come here with Pyrrha, about a year ago now – and into the house. 
Lady Nikos, dressed in a gown of green that matched the eyes she shared with her daughter, led him through the corridors with their amber walls and the strands of golden marble running through them. He supposed that she had done him honour by coming to fetch him herself instead of sending a maid to summon him into her presence. Perhaps that was a sign that they were making progress?
They passed one of the guest bedrooms on the way, where Jaune could hear Qrow sleeping off another one on the other side of the door. Lady Nikos stopped and turned her head towards the room which held the slumbering huntsman, and for a moment Jaune thought that she would remark upon his presence; in the end, however, she simply sniffed disapprovingly and then resumed walking towards her study.
When he had first visited Pyrrha's home, as her guest, Jaune had not found it a homely house; it was too big, too grand, and too full of people who seemed to regard him as somewhat unworthy to be here or to be associated with the young lady of the house. Since he had come back, those feelings had changed somewhat; it was as though Pyrrha's affections filled up the house and warmed it up towards him; or perhaps he just felt like less of an outsider so that he could let himself appreciate the charms of the grand manse more than he had done. Either way, he no longer felt estranged here as he had upon first visiting...but there was still something slightly unwelcoming about Lady Nikos' study, with its sense of closeness, its many relics of a storied ancestry, its wall dedicated to the greatness of Pyrrha Nikos; it seemed to contain in microcosm all the things that had unnerved him about his first visit here, and in this room, in Lady Nikos' private space, they continued to do so.
Lady Nikos set her cane against the wall. "When last you visited, I could walk without the aid of that," she grumbled. "My leg has grown stiffer this past year. I could not venture into the field now even if I wished to." She sat down behind her ebony desk, gesturing for Jaune to do the same.
Jaune sat before her. "Do you wish to?" he asked.
"Not as I am," Lady Nikos declared. "I would only be a burden upon my daughter and her companions in this state. As I was...why dwell upon such things? There is no god who will restore my youth and strength, not even for one last battle, not even though the city be imperilled."
"The city seems safe," Jaune said. "The outlying villages, the kingdom is imperilled, as you say, but I think the city is safe." He paused. "Thanks to Pyrrha and the others, fear has been driven from the hearts of the people." Although a degree of distrust has replaced it in the hearts of some.
"Indeed," Lady Nikos agreed, her tone approving. "I confess that I remain torn between despair that the Council does so little to defend our people in these perilous times and pride that my Pyrrha has stepped forth to do what lesser men fear to." She was silent for a moment. "I think pride wins out, by some degree," she admitted.
Jaune dared a smile. "There's a lot to be proud of."
"Even so, Mister Arc," Lady Nikos declared. "She has exceeded all my hopes and plans for her." Once more she took pause. "And yet, her task is not yet done."
"Pyrrha knew when she decided to become a huntress that her task might never be complete," Jaune said. He bowed his head for a moment. "But I know what you mean, my lady; I'd also hoped that things would have quietened down by now...I suppose that panic is easier quelled in the city than in villages that aren't so well-protected."
"Can you say that their panic is not justified, bandit activity being so rife?" Lady Nikos asked.
"No," Jaune conceded. "Lady Nikos...do you think it's possible that MARS is selling weapons to the bandit clans, as well as to us?"
Lady Nikos leaned back in her chair a little. "It would not surprise me if that were so," she said.
Jaune's eyes boggled a little. "It wouldn't?"
"It has ever been thus with that family," Lady Nikos told him. "The current laird is a charming rogue but a rogue nonetheless, sprung out of a line of duplicitous rogues. Why do you think his ancestor was clapped inside a mask of iron, if not to punish such double-dealing in the past? In all likelihood, he seeks to keep this present state of crisis alive for as long as possible."
"So he's keeping the bandits armed so that we need to keep fighting and buying more weapons from him?" Jaune said, his voice rising and thickening with anger. "He's putting people at risk - whole villages, Pyrrha, our friends - just so he can make more money? And we're just supposed to let him get away with that?"
"What would you do, Mister Arc?" Lady Nikos asked. "You do have need of his weapons, after all. Great lords and worthy councillors have tried to bring down the House of McCullen, and none of them have succeeded; nevertheless, it would not displease me to see him humbled, so if you have any suggestions, I am open to them."
"I..." Jaune slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "No," he muttered. "Not yet, anyway. Does Pyrrha know about this?"
"I expect she would have told you if she were," Lady Nikos said. "I doubt that she would take it any better than you if it occurred to her."
"No," Jaune agreed. "I don't think it would. But that means...when is this going to end?"
"The brigands cannot be sold manpower," Lady Nikos reminded him. "Nor can they be sold enthusiasm, for that matter. At some point, it will sink in with them that there are no easy pickings here, that the territory of Mistral is defended."
"Within a certain distance of Mistral, anyway," Jaune muttered. It galled him, and he knew that it hurt Pyrrha, that there were places further out from the city that they could not defend, not without squandering their force in penny packet garrisons and diluting their ability to repel a major thrust, and even then, they could go down to one huntsman per village, and they still wouldn't have enough people. Anima was vast; they couldn't possibly cover the whole territory. And they shouldn't have to, Jaune thought with a degree of irritation; it shouldn't be up to a bunch of first- and second-year students and some tournament circuit regulars to keep the kingdom safe; where were the huntsmen? Scattered, supposedly; Jaune hoped they were defending the parts of Mistral that Pyrrha and her allies couldn't reach.
That was another reason why they had to suck up the duplicity of MARS: their Iron Grenadiers were defending several settlements against the grimm. And it wasn't as though they needed to worry about bandits.
"You go beyond the bounds of your obligation to Mistral," Lady Nikos said, and Jaune thought that she was using a collective you to refer to the entire group. "That you cannot go further still...the plight of our lands is a shame for the council to bear, not for you or my daughter."
Jaune nodded. "Yes, my lady."
"What think you of the increasing frequency of the grimm attacks?" Lady Nikos asked him. "Is it merely driven by fear, or does Salem have some design against us?"
Jaune spread his hands out in front of him. "I...I don't even know if Salem knows we exist, my lady; we might be ants to her for all I know."
"My daughter is not an ant," growled Lady Nikos. "But I take your point; though I would hope that Mistral counts for something still, it is not reasonable to ask you to peer into the mind of your enemy. In any case, all of this is not really why I asked you here."
Jaune's brow furrowed. "No, my lady?"
"No," Lady Nikos confirmed. "I asked you here - while Pyrrha is absent - to ask you your intentions."
Jaune felt a shiver down his spine. "My...intentions?"
"I consider that I have been remarkably tolerant with regards to your shared...domestic arrangements," Lady Nikos declared. "But my tolerance has limits. To put it bluntly, Mister Arc, do you intend to do the honourable thing with regards to Pyrrha or not?"
"Yes," Jaune yelped. He paused. "You...you do mean marry her, right...um, my lady?"
Lady Nikos rolled her eyes just a little. "Yes, Mister Arc; that is exactly what I mean."
"Then yes," Jaune repeated. "I mean, um," he cleared his throat and got to his feet. "My lady...may I have your permission to marry your daughter?"
"You have more than my permission, Mister Arc; you have my encouragement," Lady Nikos snapped. "If that is your intent, then why don't you get on and do it?"
"I..." Jaune settled back into his chair. "I suppose I was hoping that things would calm down a little," he said. "It doesn't seem right to ask her at a time like this."
"It is the perfect time," Lady Nikos told him. Her eyes glanced to the two pictures sitting on her desk. Jaune couldn't see them, but he guessed they were her daughter and her late husband. "Pyrrha is amongst the greatest warriors of the age, and yet in war, ten thousand fates of death surround even the most prodigiously talented. I pray that it will not be so, but...she may not live to see the return of the Remnant we have known, that which we called normal." She sighed. "I cannot believe that I am about to say this, but I counsel you, Mister Arc, to put on your wedding robes before you must don your mourning garb, and to let Pyrrha do the same; do you understand?"
Jaune nodded. "I understand, my lady."
"You had previously demonstrated that you understood Pyrrha's worth," Lady Nikos said. "I hope, then, that you also understand that she deserves to be taken by the hand and pledged to in devotion, not used as something cheap and disposable."
"I never..." Jaune trailed off. "I never meant to offend Pyrrha by my actions," he murmured. "But I will do the right thing, my lady."
"I am glad to hear it," Lady Nikos said. "Do you require assistance in purchasing a ring?"
Jaune blinked. "My lady, when you say assistance do you mean money?"
"A cheap ring implies a bride who is little esteemed," Lady Nikos said. "Pyrrha deserves better, and yet I am not blind to your circumstances."
"That's...very kind of you, my lady, but not necessary," Jaune said. "I have a ring," he added, fishing it out of his pocket. "It's a family heirloom."
"Indeed?" Lady Nikos murmured. She produced a pair of spectacles from out of her desk draw and put them on. "May I?"
"Of course," Jaune held out the ring to her, and she plucked it out of his hand and began to examine it.
"Hmm...I see it has your family crest on the interior," Lady Nikos observed. "Plain, but well crafted. Do you know its history?"
"I know my grandmother had it."
"I know a little about antiques for obvious reasons," Lady Nikos said. "I would put its age as being far greater. Perhaps as far as the tenth century, the style of the setting of the stone is reminiscent...in any case, it will serve, and admirably at that." She handed the ring back. "I advise you to place that ring upon my daughter's finger with all due dispatch."
"Yes, my lady," Jaune said. "Uh, any advice?"
Lady Nikos lowered her spectacles so that she could look at him over the top of him. "Did you just ask my advice on how you might propose to my daughter, Mister Arc?"
"Uh...no, my lady."
"I'm glad to hear it," Lady Nikos said. "That will be all, Mister Arc."
As he stood up, Jaune realised that his back had become drenched with sweat. "Thank you, my lady."