Should I Stay or Should I Go?
“Here,” Sunsprite said, holding out the chipped teacup to Ruby. “Although we have milk – fresh from cows tended to not far from the city, upon the Queen’s lands – I’m afraid there is no sugar; such luxuries are impossible to come by here.”
“That’s okay,” Ruby said, feeling the heat of the tea within the cup spreading to her hands. “Although, couldn’t you get stuff like that – not that you need it, I guess – but couldn’t you get stuff like that by trading with Mistral? It’s only across the water, right?”
Sunsprite did not reply straight away. Instead, she knelt down in front of their grandfather and took one of his trembling hands in her own and gently pressed another teacup into his grasp. “There you are, Grandfather,” she said, her voice soft and gentle. “Flavoured with chamomile, just the way you like it.”
“Thank you, Sunsprite,” Grandfather murmured, and his hand shook as he raised the cup to his lips. “The… the biscuits, you must offer Ruby biscuits.”
Sunsprite smiled. “I’m getting to that, Grandfather; just give me a second.” She rose to her feet and turned her single eye upon Ruby. “Would you like a biscuit?”
“Ooh, do you have any cookies?” Ruby asked. “Oh, wait, no, you don’t have any of that kind of stuff here, do you?”
Sunsprite laughed. “Unfortunately not, but Mrs. McIver downstairs bakes some delicious shortbread. Unless they fed you all of it while I was away, Grandfather.”
Grandfather groaned. “I should be so fortunate as to have my face stuffed with biscuits. The only things they forced down my throat were soup and broth.”
Sunsprite sighed. “That’s because it’s good for you, Grandfather.”
“That does not make it good to eat,” Grandfather replied. He turned his head to the other side of the room, and Ruby guessed that he was trying to look in her direction. “Imagine it, Ruby, being forced to eat nothing but chicken soup for every luncheon and beef broth for every dinner. Ugh!”
Ruby giggled, covering her mouth with one hand as the teacup shook in the other.
Grandfather had risen from his bed with the help of Sunsprite and now sat ensconced in the most comfortable-looking chair in the house, the one that had the most cushioning and padding, which cushioning had been added to by the addition of his pillows from the bed. Ruby, by contrast, was perched on a wooden stool, from the top of which her feet did not quite touch the ground. Sunsprite had taken a spindly and hard-looking wooden chair, from which she had risen to make the tea at the stove on the other side of the room.
Now, she crossed the room again to kneel down in front of a wooden cupboard and root around in it for a wooden box, a box which proved, when opened, to contain some shortbread biscuits.
“Ruby?” she said, holding out the box as she walked back towards them. “Would you like one?”
“Thank you,” Ruby said, reaching into the box and plucking out one of the wedge-shaped biscuits. It felt fragile and crumbly beneath her fingers, and it did crumble as soon as she bit into it, crumbs falling to the floor and sticking to her corset and skirt. Not that she minded; they would brush off, and in the meantime, they were good biscuits. She made an appreciative noise before she swallowed.
“Sunsprite,” Grandfather said, holding out one hand tentatively.
Sunsprite snorted. “If you wanted one, you should have just asked instead of asking if I had offered Ruby one,” she scolded him. “Here.” She placed a biscuit into his hand.
“Thank you, child.”
“The answer to your question, Ruby,” Sunsprite said, “is that you are right; it is not so far from Freeport to Anima, but we have little enough to trade in at present. All the crops of Estmorland go to feed the townships and the folk of Estmorland, and in any case, Anima has crops and farmland of its own in great abundance, so I’m told. And besides, the Queen says that to begin trade too soon would be to risk word of our growing kingdom getting out too soon. We will trade with the outside world, she promises, but in good time, when we are ready and not before.”
“Wise of her to hold off, not so wise of her to promise to start,” Grandfather declared. “No good has ever come from contact between these lands and the outside world. Why, it was the lure of the outside world that took Summer-”
“Grandfather!” Sunsprite hissed.
Grandfather stopped. His chin trembled. “Oh,” he moaned. “Forgive me, Ruby, I didn’t… I should have…”
“It’s okay,” Ruby said quietly. “You miss Mom; you don’t have to apologise for that.” She hesitated. “I miss her too.”
Grandfather nodded his head. His voice, when it came, was filled with melancholy. “How old were you, if I may ask, when your mother… when Summer…”
“I was four,” Ruby whispered. “I don’t… really remember my mom all that well. The truth is that I hardly remember anything. Yang remembered Mom a lot better than I did.”
“Yang?”
“My sister,” Ruby explained. “She… she’s with Mom now.”
“Oh, gods,” Grandfather whispered. “Oh, child, oh Ruby, I am so sorry. I grieve with you, I truly do.”
“Thank you,” Ruby said softly, wiping a tear from her eye with one finger. “Would… would you mind if we talked about something else?”
“Of course not,” Sunsprite said, kneeling at Ruby’s side and placing a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “This is a reunion of our family, the return of one of our long-sundered kin; this should be a time for joy, not sorrow.”
Ruby smiled, or tried her best to smile anyway; a thought came to her which managed to drive the smile from off her face. “Sunsprite?”
“Yes, Ruby?”
“If… if you don’t trade with Anima at all… if the Sun Queen is so determined to keep this kingdom hidden from the others… doesn’t that mean that there’s no way that she’ll give us a boat to get across the ocean?”
“'Across the ocean'?” Grandfather declared. “You’re leaving?”
Ruby squeaked in alarm. “No! I mean, not right away! I mean, I don’t think so! I mean… yes. Yes, we’re leaving.”
“But I thought…” Grandfather trailed off. “But you’ve only just arrived.”
“I know,” Ruby murmured. “I… my friends and I… we…” she looked at Sunsprite helplessly.
“Tell him the truth,” Sunsprite urged her.
“But-”
“Grandfather deserves to know,” Sunsprite insisted. “The reason why you must go, the reason you are here in the first place… the reason Aunt Summer died.”
“'Reason'?” Grandfather repeated. “What reason? I… I don’t understand you. Summer? What is this? Will someone explain to me what’s going on?”
Ruby glanced towards her cousin. Sunsprite’s gaze seemed to be particularly penetrating for having only one eye with which to gaze upon her.
Ruby drank some of her tea and took another bite out of the shortbread while she considered just how she could begin to explain all of this to her grandfather, to a man who had lost his daughter to this struggle.
Which was, of course, more than any other reason, why he was owed the truth.
“The grimm are more than just mindless creatures of destruction,” she began, because it seemed best to start there. “They’re drawn to negative emotions, yes, but they can be directed too. They can be sent on… missions, I suppose. They are, sometimes anyway, under the control of someone called Salem. She’s… I suppose that you might say that she’s their mistress or their queen. She can’t die, and she can’t be killed-”
“Anyone can be killed,” Grandfather said.
“Not her, not Salem,” Ruby replied. “Mom… mom tried and… wait, no, I need to explain more first. Salem… Salem is immortal. She’s lived for thousands of years, and for thousands of years, she’s tried to bring about the destruction of humanity. But for all that time, there have been those who fought against her. Professor Ozpin is – was – the leader of a group that resisted Salem, even while they kept her existence a secret from the rest of the world.”
“Why?” Grandfather asked. “Why keep it a secret?”
“Because they didn’t want people to panic?” Ruby suggested. “Professor Ozpin… he was afraid of fear. He was afraid that if too many people knew the truth, then they wouldn’t do the right thing or make the right choices. That’s why he kept the truth from everyone except the people he trusted most. People like Mom. When she was at Beacon, he told her and my Dad and my Uncle Qrow.” She didn’t mention Raven. It was complicated and not really any of their business. “That’s how I know that… Mom… they tried to stop Salem. They thought that with Mom’s silver eyes, maybe they could… but Mom used all her power against Salem, and it didn’t even make her flinch. She just… mocked them. And set her grimm on them.”
“And that…” Grandfather murmured. “That is how… Summer-”
“Not right then,” Ruby said quickly, as she realised how she could have – how she had, clearly – given that impression. “But in that fight, in the struggle to protect the world against Salem… yeah. That’s how… my mother died. She gave her life to protect humanity, just like a huntress should.”
“As a silver-eyed warrior should,” Sunsprite corrected her.
“More people have sacrificed to protect the kingdoms from Salem than just silver-eyed warriors,” Ruby replied, her tone sharpening just a little. “More people have risked everything to fight for humanity. My Mom didn’t fight by herself; she had my Dad with her, and now… when Professor Ozpin trusted me to know the truth, it wasn’t just me, it was my whole team: Sunset, Jaune, Pyrrha; not to mention our Atlas friends too, and Blake. They’ve all fought so hard, risked so much… because they believed in what it meant to be a huntsman, just like Mom did.”
Sunsprite’s expression was still, and her tone solemn as she said, “Forgive me, I did not intend to give offence. I would never intend that. But the fact remains that this is our fight-”
“No, Sunsprite,” Grandfather said, his voice weary and a little wheezing. His head bowed, his chin resting upon his chest. “It… it is not.”
“Grandfather!” Sunsprite exclaimed.
Grandfather’s hand seemed to tremble more than usual as he raised his teacup to his lips. “Can it really be said to be our struggle when we were ignorant of it? Summer did not learn of Salem, of this great struggle against the figurehead of the dark, from the lore of the silver-eyed warriors that I could recall, but from this Professor Ozpin, a scholar at Beacon Academy.”
“He was the headmaster,” Ruby explained. “And our leader.”
Grandfather nodded. “It appears that this was his fight. His fight, in which he chose his soldiers with great care. It was an honour that your mother was chosen for so grave a task, as it was an honour for you to be chosen also, but it was not foretold, nor merely a consequence of your blood, and Sunsprite, you do your aunt and cousin both a disservice to suggest so.”
“That… was not my purpose,” Sunsprite muttered.
“No, but nonetheless…” Grandfather sighed. “And so, this leaving that you speak of… you came here on some errand for Professor Ozpin?”
“Professor Ozpin’s dead,” Ruby said, more harshly than she had intended. “But… yes, we’re on a mission. The fight carries on even without him, after all. We… we have to go to Mistral to find a… a highly placed servant of Salem there, to find out what they know about what she’s planning and to stop him doing too much damage there.”
“A part of me thinks that I should go with you,” Sunsprite said. “Another part of me thinks that I should urge you not to go, to leave this work to other hands while you stay here with us, with your family.”
“'Stay'?” Ruby asked. “You mean… you want me to abandon my…” Ruby hesitated, aware that she couldn’t call most of these people her friends. “You want me to abandon Sunset?”
“Can she not manage the business alone, with the prodigious power that she has?”
“'Power'?” Grandfather asked.
“Some mighty semblance that she possesses,” Sunsprite explained quickly. “It should open up a way for her to get this servant of Salem alone, or at least with the aid of the rest of your companions, should it not?”
“I… I’m not-“ Ruby began, before she was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Ruby?” Taiyang called from outside. “Are you in there? One of the Rangers told me this was Captain Sunsprite’s apartment.”
“Who is that?” Grandfather demanded.
“That’s my Dad,” Ruby said at the same time as Sunsprite told him it was Ruby’s father.
They both looked at each other, and Sunsprite smiled apologetically.
Grandfather’s jaw tightened. “That is… Summer’s husband?”
There was an anger in his voice that made Ruby hesitate. “Uh, yes?”
Grandfather scowled, even if he tried to hide it. “Ruby, would you mind opening the door please? Sunsprite, help me up.”
“Grandfather-” Sunsprite began.
“Help me up,” Grandfather insisted. “Please, child.”
Sunsprite hesitated for a moment before she stood up. “Very well,” she said and took her grandfather by the arm and almost bodily hauled him up onto his feet, seeming to support him far more than he was supporting himself by his own efforts.
Ruby watched him, not so much standing as being stood up, his whole body trembling with the effort that it demanded of him, before she rushed quickly – but not quite so quickly as to activate her semblance – to the door and opened it up. “Hey Dad,” she said, her tone walking a fine line between enthusiasm – she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t glad to see him – and nervousness, because she wasn’t sure that his being here was all that great an idea.
He smiled down at her. “Hey, kiddo, how’s it going? I’m sorry to disturb you, but I just wanted to make sure that-”
“Is that him, Ruby?” Grandfather called from inside the apartment.
Ruby looked over her shoulder, even though he couldn’t tell if she was looking or not. “Yes,” she said, “yes, this is my Dad.”
“Come inside, sir!” Grandfather barked.
Ruby let out a slight squeak of alarm, but nevertheless, she stepped back to let her dad inside. Taiyang walked in, gently shutting the door behind him. His look was even, neutral as he gazed around the room, his expression giving very little away. His arms swung loosely by his side. He didn’t look at all nervous, but Ruby supposed that he was a bit too old to be getting nervous in front of his love’s father.
“Miss Sunsprite,” he said courteously, nodding to her. “Good afternoon, sir. Do I have the pleasure of addressing Summer’s father?”
“My name is Hugo Rose,” Grandfather declared. “Head of the Rose family. Summer was my daughter… and you took her from me.”
Taiyang’s expression didn’t alter. “Summer never went anywhere that Summer didn’t want to go.”
“You took her from us!” Grandfather roared. “She would have come back from that school, would have come home to her family, if it weren’t for you! She was my daughter, and you wed her without my knowledge or consent! I should kill you where you stand!” Spittle flew from his mouth, but his voice shook as much as did his body, and by the end of it, his shouted words were interrupted by sobs. “But I am an old man now, and I could not harm you even if I wished to do so.” A groan escaped his lips. “Release me, child.”
Sunsprite’s face was grave as she helped their grandfather settle back down into his chair, back bent beneath the weight of his sorrows.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Taiyang said softly. “I know how hard it is to-”
“I don’t need you to tell me how wonderful my own child was,” Grandfather snapped. “My sweet Summer girl… do you imagine that your grief is equal to my own?”
“I was going to say that I know what it is to lose a daughter,” Taiyang said.
Silence fell in the room. Grandfather’s breathing, ragged and heavy, was the only sound. Eventually, he said, “Indeed. Ruby has… I am sorry. Yes, perhaps you do understand. Did you make her happy? Summer, I mean; did you at least make her happy, in the time that was allotted to you?”
Taiyang glanced down at the floor. “I tried to,” he said.
“I hope that you succeeded,” Grandfather said wearily. He sighed. “So… you and Summer strove together against this Salem, the source of all evils?”
The look Taiyang gave Ruby was slightly incredulous.
“We’ve told so many other people already, what’s the point in keeping it secret?” Ruby demanded.
“I guess you’re not wrong,” Taiyang admitted. “Yes, sir, that’s right. Our team was chosen by Ozpin to be his… agents, I suppose you could call us.”
“I cannot decide whether to honour Summer’s courage in taking up such a cause or curse this Ozpin for involving her and Ruby in it,” Grandfather muttered.
“Speaking for myself, I’m more inclined to take the first option,” Taiyang replied. “Oz didn’t make Summer do anything. Once she learned the truth, there was no way that she was going to turn her back on something like that. And Ruby is just the same. She’s her mother’s daughter that way.”
“Is that so?” Sunsprite asked, she returned her attention to Ruby. “Are you Summer’s daughter in that way?”
“What are you suggesting?” Taiyang asked.
“Whether you – both of you – should depart Freeport with the rest of your companions,” Sunsprite said. “Or whether it might not be better if you stayed here, with us.”
“Stay here?” Taiyang repeated. “You mean give up on our mission?”
“Are there not others who might take it on?” Sunsprite asked.
“Maybe, but…” Ruby hesitated. “You told me it was our destiny to fight against the darkness, that it was our fight, as Silver-Eyed Warriors.”
“I know, and I believe it,” Sunsprite replied, “and that is why a part of me yearns to take to the road with you, to whatever end-”
“No,” Grandfather moaned. “No, please, Sunsprite, you must not torment me so with such cruel words.”
“But who would take care of Grandfather if I did?” Sunsprite asked. “I cannot leave him permanently in the care of my neighbours while I embark upon a long journey with an uncertain end. And you, Ruby… you have only just found us, your family. Do you really want to leave so soon?”
“No,” Ruby replied. “I want to hear all about… about everything. But what I’m doing, what we’re doing… it’s important.”
“More important than your family?” Sunsprite asked. “So important that it cannot be left to Sunset Shimmer? If she is truly a changed person as you say, then there should be no issue with leaving this task in her hands.” To Taiyang she said, “You lost a wife and daughter already to this struggle; do you really want to lose your other daughter too?”
Taiyang’s jaw clenched. “That… this is Ruby’s choice, not mine.”
“Of course,” Sunsprite agreed. “But we who… who care about Ruby may advise, may we not? Is that not what kin… what friends do? Ruby… this may be selfish, but I don’t want to lose my cousin so soon after meeting her.”
“Nor I my granddaughter,” Grandfather whispered. “Ruby, you have your mother’s face, that I can feel. I feel too, I hear in your words, that you have your mother’s heart. That is a fine thing, a wonderful thing… but I lost your mother. She went away to that school and never returned. I have not seen her since she was a girl, and our last words were spent in furious argument as to whether she should go or not.” He sighed once more. “I have… years of regret. Please, Ruby, do not leave me as Summer did; at least, do not leave so soon.”
Ruby bowed her head. “Grandpa, I…” She wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure what she could say. Her heart and head alike were torn in two. A part of her yet desired to go to Mistral, to see Jaune and Pyrrha again, but… but if she went, then another part of her would be left here, in Freeport, regretful that she had left her family behind, left behind the chance to learn about them and her heritage… for the moment. For what might prove to be a very long moment, for once they found Professor Ozpin, then he would have a task for them, and then another, and where would it end? Would it end? It had ended for her father, but for her mother, it had ended only in her death.
But could she stay? Did she want to stay? Did she want to desert Sunset and the cause of life against death? Was it really deserting? What else was she supposed to call it? Did it matter what she called it if she wanted it? What did she want? Family or friends? Duty or desire? She wanted to do the right thing, but she also wanted what was being offered to her here.
“You can still fight, if that is your wish,” Sunsprite reminded her. “As I told you, you could do much good for Freeport.”
“But I could do a lot of good for other people too, maybe,” Ruby replied.
“Perhaps,” Sunsprite allowed, “but you would not be with your family while you did so.”
“No,” Ruby murmured, “but I…”
“But what?” Sunsprite demanded. “But you cannot leave Sunset, who is unworthy of your presence.”
“Sunset’s always been there for me,” Ruby cried. “Even when… when I didn’t ask her to be. She’s always tried to help me even if she didn’t do it the right way. I can’t just tell her that I’m ditching her to stay here.”
“No one is asking you to betray your comrades,” Grandfather assured her.
“No,” Sunsprite said, looking a little shamefaced. “I wasn’t suggesting that at all. Not at all.” She winced. “But, Ruby, do you wish to stay here, with us?”
Ruby glanced at her father for help.
“This is your choice, Ruby,” Taiyang told her. “Ozpin chose you, not me. I’m just a retired huntsman and old teacher along for the ride.”
That was… Ruby would have appreciated that more if it didn’t feel as though he were putting her on the spot like this. Thanks, Dad. “Yes,” she said. “I do want to stay. I want to learn where I came from.”
“Then please, speak to your friend,” Grandfather urged. “Speak to Sunset. Do not simply turn your back on her, but go to her and explain. If she is truly your friend, if she has always endeavoured to do right by you, then she will understand that your staying here… is simply what is best for you.”
The servants of the Sun Queen had lodged them in the Tower of the Moon, the Mistralian tower that sat on the other side of town from the old Valish castle out of which Sunset’s double had based herself. This tower must have been considerably newer than the Tower of the Sun, dating back only as far as the years leading up to the Great War; Sunset almost wondered why this, and not the much older tower, was not the Sun Queen’s base – and it couldn’t be the names, because Sunset was ninety-nine percent certain those names had been given by the Sun Queen herself. But the more she thought about it, the more she realised that the Tower of the Sun, old and strong as it was, just had a certain cachet about it that the smaller Mistralian tower lacked, and she would have probably made the same choices in the Sun Queen’s position.
In a sense, she had.
The interior of the tower was wood, with several small rooms on each floor, each room designed for a single occupant without much in the way of luggage or possessions, which Sunset didn’t mind, since none of them had very much in the way of luggage or possessions. With the first two floors taken up with communal spaces, Sunset had put Lyra, Bon Bon, Taiyang, and Ruby – when she arrived – on the third floor; herself, Cinder, Sami, and Jack on the fifth floor; and Torchwick, Neo, and Cardin up on the sixth.
Now, she slumped onto her bed, feeling the lumps in the straw pallet beneath her which the roughspun woollen sheet could not disguise. Sunset rolled over onto her back, her tail coiling around her leg. She stared up at the plain white ceiling.
“Everything okay?” Cinder asked, standing in the doorway, leaning upon the frame with her arms folded.
Sunset sat up. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Just like I don’t know why the Queen is stringing me along about this pony from Equestria. Why keep me from seeing her? Why not even tell me her name?”
“Perhaps…” Cinder trailed off.
Sunset frowned. “Go on. Finish what you have to say.”
Cinder matched Sunset’s frown; some might say she even exceeded it. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “but I wonder… what if there is no Equestrian?”
Sunset blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean she made it up.”
“All of it?” Sunset asked. “The portal, the pony… all of it? Why? And if not by that means, then how would she know about Equestria?”
“By some other way that she would rather not tell you, so she concocted a story that you might believe?” Cinder suggested.
“I… I don’t know,” Sunset mused. “I suppose… it feels a little farfetched to me.”
“Then why not tell you who they are?”
“Why not just make up a name?” Sunset countered. “Being obstinate about it gets them nothing. If this is all fabrication then, yes, I see that it makes a degree of sense to keep me from seeing someone who isn’t there, but why tell me a lie that is certain to come out? It’s not like I’m going to let this drop if they stonewall me for long enough. If there is no pony, I’m going to find out about it… and what other way could she have discovered to find out about Equestria that would be so bad they’d lie about it?”
“You’re the one who is actually from Equestria,” Cinder reminded her. “You tell me?”
“I… can’t think of one,” Sunset said. “I… I can’t wait until we are away from here.”
“And you can stop looking in the mirror?” asked Cinder amusedly.
“So I can stop worrying about my other self and what I’m missing,” Sunset rephrased. “And I can stop worrying about this pony whose name I don’t even know but who I feel an obligation to protect. And, rather more selfishly, I wish that we were away from here so that I wouldn’t have to look at Ruby spending more time with her cousin and feel so jealous about it.”
“Her father told you not to worry about it.”
“Her father told me that Ruby still cared about me,” Sunset corrected her. “That isn’t the same thing as telling me not to worry.”
“Isn’t it?
“No, because in the meantime, she’s still under the influence of her cousin.”
“Her 'influence'?” Cinder repeated. “Do you mistrust Sunsprite?”
I mistrust everything about this place. “I don’t know,” Sunset admitted. “She seems genuine… if a complete ass, but at the same time… she is the Queen’s servant, and the Queen is-”
“You.”
“Keeping things from me,” Sunset restated. “How can I trust someone who I know for a fact is holding back?”
“We hold things back too.”
“Don’t I know it,” Sunset muttered. She got up. “Believe me, I’m aware of the hypocrisy. I just… our secrets are kept in a good cause.”
“Our secrets are kept in the will of an undying man,” Cinder corrected.
“You think we should tell them everything?”
“No, but I think we should be honest with ourselves about what we’re doing,” Cinder declared. “Ozpin kept his secrets because he didn’t trust anyone else to know the truth.”
“He trusted me,” Sunset pointed out.
“Very well then; he trusted very few to know the truth,” Cinder said, “but that does not change the fact that he hoarded knowledge like a miser hoards gold, giving out only scraps to his servants, even those servants he claimed to cherish the most. He didn’t even trust you with the knowledge that his death would not be permanent. He had his reasons, I am sure, but that doesn’t change the fact that he had no especial right to do so, aside from his desire and his low opinions of his fellow men.”
“Please don’t criticise him,” Sunset murmured. “I… I would prefer not to hear it or to have this conversation.”
Cinder stepped into the room, sliding the door closed behind her. “You feel… you… I don’t know how to describe your relationship, but… he was my enemy. And not just because he was Salem’s enemy. When I understood what he was, I hated him. I’m not talking about considering him an obstacle to my plans. He wasn’t someone I was reluctantly planning to defeat; I wanted to kill him, I wanted to see him fall by my hand, and do you know why?”
Sunset thought about it. She didn’t want to think about it, but she thought about it nonetheless because she felt as though she owed Cinder that. “Because…” She clenched her hands into fists. “Because he had the power; he represented the system of the world you wished to smash into pieces.”
“Yes,” Cinder said, and though her voice was quiet, that didn’t change what she had said. “I… I don’t say this to offend you or to start a fight but… that man controlled soldiers and huntsmen from the shadows; headmasters and generals bent the knee to him; he had more power than most armies even before we get into the additional power that no one knew he had. He held the world in his grasp-”
“You’re exaggerating,” Sunset snapped. “Professor Ozpin had allies-”
“I am your ally; you were Ozpin’s servant,” Cinder cut her off. “You trust your allies; you command those beneath you and tell them only what they need to know.”
“Then he had servants, and I was one,” Sunset declared. “I am one. Very well, he did not tell us everything; very well, he directed those who served him; who would begrudge him the right to that? A king is not bound to share all with his retainers, however faithful they may be.”
“No more than is a queen?” Cinder asked, one eyebrow arching.
“I said I was aware of the hypocrisy,” Sunset growled.
Cinder was quiet for a moment. “He held the world in the palm of his hand,” she mused. “He could have solved all its problems, but instead, he was content to nudge it, so gently that it was barely noticeable, as though all the ills that mire the lands of Remnant would heal themselves if he just ignored them for long enough.”
“And what should he have done instead?” Sunset demanded. “Seized all the thrones for himself? Made himself High King over the Four Kingdoms? Ruled with an iron fist inside a mailed glove? Why is a tyrant over all so much to be preferred than a man in the shadows?”
“Does not your princess in the land of Equestria rule over all things?” Cinder asked.
Sunset snorted. “Princess Celestia rules more by nudging than by imposing her will. The hoof of her rule is gentle as the slightest breeze that, though it may calm and cool, is scarcely felt upon the cheek of anypony. That… that, I think, is even how Professor Ozpin endeavoured to rule, if he considered himself a ruler at all. I’m not sure he did.”
“And does your Princess Celestia keep secrets from those who serve her?”
“She keeps secrets from those who love her best and whom she loves in turn,” Sunset replied, thinking of Twilight and the way that Celestia had, by her own admission, guided her towards her destiny without ever letting on to Twilight what that destiny was. “It does not make her wicked; it does not even invalidate their feelings.”
“Do you think Professor Ozpin loved you?”
“I think he had no need to love me,” Sunset replied. “I am his servant, and I will serve him, secrets or no.”
Cinder frowned. “Your loyalty does you credit,” she admitted, “but I cannot forget that… how many people died because of his secrets? How many died because they didn’t know what they were really up against?” She paused. “And yes, I, too, am aware of the hypocrisy; you need not point it out.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Sunset said softly. “You… deserve better from me than to have your past raked up and thrown in your face.”
“And I thank you for that,” Cinder murmured. She smirked. “None of what I’ve said has made the slightest difference, has it? You’re still Ozpin’s girl.”
“Always,” Sunset replied, quietly but firmly.
Cinder shook her head. “Do you really think it virtuous to be loyal to a man who does not deserve your loyalty?”
“If there is no virtue in loyalty, then where is virtue found?” Sunset asked. “We… we are not granted to define righteousness by our own lights, to set our own terms for what is right and good and then to act on them, or else I would declare that what I did in the tunnels was right and proper, and I had nothing, nothing at all, to apologise for. We must follow the dictates of a higher power, who sets the bounds of our good conduct, be that a princess or a general… or a headmaster. I’m with him all the way.”
“And I’m with you,” Cinder said. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
Sunset laughed bitterly. “I… I wouldn’t bet on that, at this point.”
Cinder chuckled. “Well, I’m with you anyway.”
There was a knock on the door. “Sunset?” Ruby called. “Are you in there?”
“Yes,” Sunset said. “Yes, Ruby, I’m here.”
Cinder opened the door. “Ruby.”
“Cinder,” Ruby said quietly. “Hey, Sunset.”
“Hey, Ruby,” Sunset replied. “Did you meet your grandfather? How did it go?”
“He’s… it went great,” Ruby said, her voice soft and without too much enthusiasm.
Sunset frowned. “Is everything okay?”
“I, um… can I talk to you?” Ruby asked. “Alone?” she added with a glance at Cinder.
“Of course,” Cinder said smoothly and without a trace of offence. “Excuse me, both of you. Ruby, Sunset.”
“Goodbye,” Sunset said, “and thank you, for a sympathetic ear.”
“And a less sympathetic tongue?” Cinder asked.
Sunset snorted. “Yes, that too.”
Cinder flowed around Ruby as the latter stood in the doorway, disappearing out of sight with steps so soft that Sunset could scarcely hear them.
Ruby looked over her shoulder – at the departing Cinder, perhaps – before she walked into the room and slid the door shut behind her.
“What’s wrong?” Sunset asked. “And don’t say nothing is, because I know that isn’t true.”
“It’s… it’s… I don’t know how to…” Ruby crossed the room and sat down upon the bed, head bowed, twiddling her fingers in her lap. “Sunsprite and my grandfather… they want us to stay here. Me, and Dad too.”
Sunset was silent and still. She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She just stared down at Ruby, frozen by her words as though by the gaze of a cockatrice. So it has come to this. Of course it has come to this. It was always going to end here, from the moment… from the moment her family came into her life, from the moment Sunsprite found out what I had done, from the moment Ruby found out what I had done.
Ruby glanced at her. Her silver eyes seemed brighter now; they shone in the light for all that Sunset was standing between Ruby and the window. She ought to have cast a shadow over her friend, but despite that, her eyes shone regardless. “Sunset… could you please say something?”
Sunset sucked in a breath. “Just so that we’re clear,” she said, although she was already clear enough inside her own head. “You don’t mean just delay our progress, do you? You mean-”
“That I’d stay here,” Ruby finished. “That we’d stay here, in Freeport, with Sunsprite and my grandfather. He… he’s really old, and I think he’s sick, and I don’t know-”
“How much time he has left,” Sunset finished.
“Right,” Ruby whispered.
Sunset nodded. “And what does your father say to all this?”
“He says it’s up to me.”
Of course he does. “Do you…?” Sunset swallowed. “Do you want to stay?”
“I don’t know,” Ruby said. “Maybe.”
“Ruby,” Sunset said, a little reproach in the tone of her voice, “you can be honest with me.”
“I am being honest!” Ruby protested. “I… I want to stay, but I… would it be okay if I stayed behind?”
“Okay with who?” Sunset asked. “With me? Are you asking me if you can stay here? Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you’re our leader,” Ruby replied. “And… and my friend. And I don’t want to leave you if… would you be okay if I left?”
No. Or maybe, maybe not. I don’t want you to go. I want you to come to Anima with us, I don’t want to leave you here with these people. I want… I want you by my side. I need you by my side.
I don’t know if I can do this without you.
“None of that matters.”
“None of it? What are you talking about? Of course it matters!”
“No, it doesn’t,” Sunset replied, and her voice shook a little for all her efforts to control it. She turned away from Ruby, walking to the window, looking out across the city of Freeport in all its ramshackle chaos. “'Creation, Destruction, Knowledge… but the greatest of these is Choice.'”
“Sunset?”
“Something that Professor Ozpin told me,” Sunset explained. “He told me that Choice is the greatest kind of magic because we all have choices. Because we can all make choices. Because we all have the choice to be better people than we were yesterday.” And some of us need that more than others. “And so… and so I’m not going to tell you how to make this choice. I’m not going to tell you what I want or need from you. I just… you have to make this choice for yourself. What do you want, Ruby? What do you choose?”
“But-”
“If you want to stay with me, then I’ll be glad to have you,” Sunset said. “If you want to stay with your family, then I’ll manage without you.” At least I’ll still have Cinder by my side, and Cardin… and Torchwick and Sami and let’s not think about how bad it is. “But this is up to you, Ruby. Nobody can make this choice for you, and no one should. So what do you decide?”
“I… I don’t know yet,” Ruby murmured.
Sunset turned around, leaning on the window, her ears drooping. “I… I won’t tell you what to do, but…” But I’m about to tell you something that will make your choice for you. “But there is something that you should know. Something that I should have told you before now.”
Ruby frowned. “Told me… what?”
Sunset closed her eyes and bowed her head. “Twilight… Princess Twilight wrote back to me. She won’t teach me the time travel spell.”
She didn’t hear anything from Ruby, and so, fearing what she might see when she did, Sunset opened her eyes.
Ruby was staring at her, eyes wide, mouth open. “She… she just said no?” she asked, her voice so soft, so quiet that Sunset had to strain all four ears to hear it. “Just… no?” Her eyes began to fill with tears.
“I’m sorry, Ruby.”
“Why not?!” Ruby yelled, leaping up off the bed as tears began to fall down her cheek. “How can she just… doesn’t she realise why this matters? Doesn’t she get that this is our chance to save Yang, to make things better?”
“She understands.”
“Then why won’t she help us?” Ruby demanded.
“Because… because she doesn’t trust me,” Sunset admitted, and she could feel tears starting to build up in the corners of her own eyes as she made that confession. “She doesn’t think that I… that I should have this power. And so she’s keeping it away from me.”
Ruby stared at her. Sunset stared back, unable to look away. She couldn’t avert her gaze as the sadness in Ruby’s eyes turned to anger, an anger that was directed unmistakably at Sunset herself.
“You,” she snarled venomously.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Sunset whispered.
“Didn’t you?!” Ruby yelled. “You meant to stop that train!”
“And I’m sorry-”
“It doesn’t matter that you’re sorry!” Ruby shouted. “Yang’s still dead! She’s dead, and she’s never coming back because Twilight doesn’t trust you! And you know what? She’s right! I don’t trust you either! You’ve ruined everything!” Her lip trembled. “I wish… I wish I’d never met you.”
“Ruby-”
“Stay away from me!” Ruby shrieked as she turned away from Sunset and slammed the door open; it cracked as it slid back as far as it could. Ruby ran from the room, rose petals trailing after her, falling to the floor like crimson tears as her rapid footfalls echoed on the wooden boards.
Sunset didn’t pursue her. Ruby didn’t want her, and that… that was her choice. Ruby had to make her choice, and she had. She had chosen her family. Chosen people who wouldn’t let her down. Chosen Sunsprite who, whatever her faults, hadn’t been a bane on her existence.
She had made… the right choice.
That didn’t mean that it hurt Sunset any less.
She closed her eyes, screwing them up tight as though that would staunch the tears.
“That was… a foolish thing you did,” Cinder drawled. “But I suppose it was also a noble one.”
Sunset opened her eyes. Cinder had returned to the doorway. “Were you listening?” she demanded.
“Yes,” Cinder said unapologetically. “You may not want to hear this, but your little drama with Ruby affects all of us. Do you really think we can do without her?”
“I’m surprised you don’t,” Sunset sniffed.
“Be honest now, no braggadocio,” Cinder insisted. “Do you really think we can do this without her?”
“Like I told Ruby, if you were listening, it doesn’t matter,” Sunset declared. “Her choice… her choice is hers. It doesn’t matter how great our need is, I can’t take that choice away from her.” No more than Professor Ozpin could take away Pyrrha’s choice in the matter of the Fall Maiden, no matter how great his need was.
“And yet you told her-”
“The truth,” Sunset interrupted.
“Something that would make her choose.” Cinder finished.
“To be honest with her, that was my choice,” Sunset whispered. She tried to take a step forward, but tumbled and fell – into the arms of Cinder, who rushed forward to catch her, cradling her in her embrace as she began to sob.
“I’ve lost her,” Sunset moaned.
Cinder was silent for a moment. “Yes,” she admitted. “Very probably, you have.”
She carried Sunset to the bed where she sat down, and Sunset lay with her head in Cinder’s lap, Cinder’s hand running through her hair as Sunset sobbed.
“You chose to be brave rather than wise,” Cinder said. “Does that comfort you?”
“No,” Sunset said. “But if I’d lied to her… I would have felt even worse.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No,” Sunset said quickly. “No, please… please don’t go.”
“I won’t,” Cinder whispered. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need me.”