Doorways
Her dad was asleep in the next cell; he groaned occasionally as he lay on the floor, twitching in pain from the injuries that Tyrian had dealt him. Cardin had draped his uniform coat over Taiyang to serve as a blanket, the best they could do in the circumstances. Ruby hoped that it helped.
Torchwick was also asleep, or trying to sleep; that’s what it looked like anyway. It was hard to say for sure because it was so dark in here, but it seemed to Ruby’s eyes that he was lying down. Cardin was pacing up and down in front of the wooden door of their cell, while Cinder stood as still as glass, staring into the darkness, although what she was looking at, Ruby had no idea.
Lyra sat with her back against the wall, humming softly to herself; she was so quiet that Ruby couldn’t properly make out the tune.
Ruby was sitting down herself, sat down with her arms wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on her knees.
She felt so stupid. She had trusted Sunsprite; she had thought that just because they were family, it meant that Sunsprite would be a good person, someone she could rely on.
Someone to take Yang’s place.
She felt stupid and vile. How could she have thought that anyone could replace her sister like that? What kind of person felt like that?
But she had been so lonely, there hadn’t been anyone that she could rely on, and she just wanted… she just wanted a family again. Was that really so wrong? Was that really something that she deserved to be punished for?
It certainly wasn’t something that anyone else deserved to be punished for.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“This isn’t your fault,” Cinder growled. “It’s mine.”
“Yours?” Ruby asked. “But you were right-”
“And I should have told you all that, instead of rushing off to confront my enemies alone,” Cinder replied. “It was rash and heedless and may have forced their hand to act against us sooner than they would have otherwise. I… I am too used to being Cinder Fall, to fighting alone, to… I am not used to having any consideration for others.”
“This is no one’s fault but the people who put us down here,” Cardin grunted. “They were already planning to betray us; it doesn’t matter if the timetable moved up a little bit, their plans didn’t materially alter. This is their fault, not ours.”
“I can’t believe Bon Bon just joined them,” Lyra lamented.
“Can’t you?” Cinder asked. “I can. It is her natural side, after all.”
“I don’t believe it,” Lyra declared. “Bon Bon isn’t a bad person; she might have made a couple of bad choices, sure, but she’s not evil or anything.”
“Her actions suggest otherwise.”
“Like you’re one to talk,” Lyra snapped.
Cinder chuckled. “True enough, I have little grounds to speak in this, but… if the boot fits, as they say.”
“No,” Lyra repeated. “No, there’s something else going on here.”
“Like what?” Cardin asked.
Lyra was silent a moment. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just know that Bon Bon wouldn’t just leave us like this. She wouldn’t leave me. She’s not Sami, or even Jack. Where is Jack, anyway?”
“Dead, most likely,” Cinder declared. “Either Sami or Tyrian probably killed him; it is in both their natures. I will admit that Bon Bon is not a sadist as they are – she does not revel in the act of violence – but she was willing to do my work, without question, for some time. Not everyone would have taken such a road.”
“Can you people keep it down?” Torchwick demanded. “I’m trying to sleep here.”
Cinder snorted. “Why, when you may soon be sleeping forever?”
“Or sleeping no more, depending on how you look at it,” Torchwick replied. “Personally, I’ve never thought of dying as being much of a rest.”
“No?” Cinder asked.
“Nah,” Torchwick said. “It ain’t a rest if you can’t wake up from it feeling better, right?”
Cinder was silent for a moment. “Somewhat to my surprise, that makes a degree of sense.”
“Do you really think this is it?” Lyra asked, and her voice trembled as she spoke. “Do you think that we’re… going to die?”
Once more, Cinder fell into a temporary silence. “No,” she said.
“Really?” Ruby said. “Is that really what you think?”
“Don’t tell me that you, of all people, have lost hope, Ruby Rose,” Cinder said, and she sounded almost amused by the idea. “If that is so, then we are truly lost.”
“Thanks for putting it like that; I feel a lot better,” Torchwick muttered.
“You haven’t, have you, Ruby?” Lyra asked. “Lost hope, I mean? You haven’t given up, even if everyone else has?”
Ruby knew that she was supposed to deny it; she was supposed to say of course not, supposed to deny any such thing. But she just didn’t have the energy to tell the lie. She bowed her head, so that instead of her chin resting on her knees, it was her forehead. “I don’t know what there is to hope for any more,” she whispered into the darkness. “There’s nothing left to believe in.”
“We believe in ourselves,” Cinder said. “We must believe in ourselves, for no one else will believe in us, otherwise or in spite. For myself, I have no intention of dying in this fleapit.”
“Do our enemies care what you intend?” Cardin asked.
“I have never cared for the intentions of my enemies; I don’t intend to start now,” Cinder said sharply.
“And then what?” Ruby demanded. “We get out of this cell – maybe we even get out of the city – and then… then what?”
“The goal remains the same, to reach Ozpin in Anima and settle with Lionheart,” declared Cardin.
“Why?” Ruby asked. “We can’t stop Salem, Professor Ozpin can’t stop Salem, and even if he could…”
Cinder waited a moment for her to finish. “Even if he could, what?”
Ruby closed her eyes. “The world is so cruel,” she whispered. “Everyone is so terrible; they lie and cheat and-”
“And those are just my good points,” Torchwick said.
“Quiet!” Cardin snapped.
“And Professor Ozpin, he’s immortal,” Ruby continued, ignoring Torchwick. “Which means that he’s seen so much, so much of the worst of us. I wonder… do you think that there have ever been times when he’s looked at this world and just turned away in shame?”
Silence descended upon the dungeons.
“Well, that’s a cheery thing for a kid to say, isn’t it?” Torchwick asked.
“I’m not a kid,” Ruby snapped.
“Sure you are; you’re just a kid who listens to death metal and dresses in black and thinks that makes her mature,” Torchwick opined. “I’ll tell you something, kiddo: yes, the world sucks a lot of the time. But you know what? It’s not all bad, and if you take a moment to think about it… you find the bad stuff outweighs the good: good food, nice cigars… the look in her eyes that says she’ll stick with you through thick and thin.”
“Is Roman Torchwick getting sentimental?” Cinder asked.
“You were the one who told me to drop the act,” Torchwick reminded her.
“Yes, but I didn’t expect that you would.”
“Too bad, toots, you’re stuck with this Roman Torchwick now,” Torchwicks said with wicked glee ringing in his voice. “The kind who isn’t afraid to say that he loves living.”
“Says the man who tried to burn down the world,” Cardin muttered.
“You got me there, I guess, big guy,” Torchwick admitted. “But that just proves my point: I didn’t have it in me to give my life for the greater good because I love living too much, because I had something to live for… and someone. And so I was ready to do what I had to do to survive, and to keep a little piece of the world alive for Neo too.” He paused. “That’s what it means to be a father, I guess. Family first.”
“That’s not what being a parent means,” Ruby snapped. “That’s just more of the selfishness that made the world what it is today.”
Torchwick snorted. “Agree to disagree, Little Red.”
“Fine,” Ruby murmured.
Once more, a silence fell amongst the assembled prisoners. Nobody said anything, not even as the orange light of a flickering torch began to shine, illuminating the wall behind the staircase leading down into the dungeon. Ruby couldn’t see who it was coming, but she could see their light, dancing upon the cold stone wall, until she could see the torch itself, held in the hands of Sunsprite Rose as she, followed by a pair of Rangers, descended into the darkness to stand before their cells.
An almost bestial growl rose from Cinder’s throat. “You.”
Sunsprite paid her no notice. The gaze of her single eye was fixed on Ruby. “How is your father?”
“Why do you care?” Ruby asked.
“I did not want this,” Sunsprite said.
“Why should I believe that?” Ruby demanded.
“Because I have never lied to you,” Sunsprite said. “Open the cell.”
“Why?” Cinder snapped, as one of the Rangers stepped forward, keys rattling in her hands.
Still, Sunsprite did not deign to answer her, nor even give a sign that she had heard what Cinder said. She was silent, looking at Ruby when she was not obscured by the Ranger to who unlocked the padlock, pulled out the chain, and pulled open the heavy wooden door.
“Come with me,” Sunsprite said.
“Where are you taking her?” Cinder snarled. She slammed her shackled hands heavily against the wooden bars. “Answer me!”
Sunsprite glanced at her, but the only thing she said was, “Ruby, it’s time.”
Ruby didn’t need to have it explained to her what it was time for. She could guess easily enough. She understood, and she… she wasn’t that troubled by it. If there was no way out, then… then at least she would be with Mom and Yang again.
At least she would see them soon.
And what more did she have to hope for, really? A life of empty struggle, devoid of hope or enthusiasm? To watch, as if from the other side of a pane of sound-proofed glass, Jaune and Pyrrha live their lives in happiness? To watch them laugh, and love, perhaps even wed, while she grew ever more grey and desolate, a person in whom no love would take root, no joy would grow? Or worse, to watch them waste their lives in futile attempts to make happy one who was beyond all happiness?
To fight on, until death claimed her as it had claimed so many heroes before her? If that was the sum total of her life, then why not die now rather than late?
There must be times when Ozpin, immortal as he was, looked at the state of the world and all its evils and turned away in shame; as she stood up and looked into her cousin’s face, she felt a lot like turning away herself.
A moan from her father drew her eyes away from Sunsprite. She sought her father in the gloom, but could not see him clearly.
“Tell Dad…” Ruby trailed off. “Tell him… tell him-”
“Tell him yourself,” Cinder growled.
Ruby frowned, but said nothing more. There was nothing more to say. She turned away from them all and fixed her eyes once more on Sunsprite as she stepped out of her cell.
Sunsprite nodded approvingly. “Good girl. Let’s go.”
She turned away, her yellow cloak swirling around her. Ruby followed, her own cloak of red – which they had not taken away from her – trailing out behind her as he kept pace almost alongside her cousin, only a step behind, with the two Rangers following after as they walked up the stairs and through the stone corridors of the Tower of the Sun.
“Sunsprite,” Ruby murmured. “Can I… can I ask you something?”
“You may ask,” Sunsprite said. “I do not promise an answer.”
“Have you told Grandpa about this?”
Sunsprite was silent for a moment. “No,” she answered tersely.
“Has he… has he asked about me?”
Again, it took Sunsprite a little while to answer. “He did wonder at your not visiting him.”
“What did youhe say?”
“I said that you had volunteered to go out on a ranging, to show your commitment to Freeport,” Sunsprite informed her. “Later, I shall tell him that the ranging returned without you, that you had perished in an unexpected encounter with some grimm.”
“Right,” Ruby murmured. “That… that’s probably for the best.”
Sunsprite was silent for a few seconds, her boots tapping upon the stone floor. Then, suddenly, she stopped. “I do not want this,” she said. “Do you believe me?”
“Does it matter whether I believe you or not?”
“Only to me,” Sunsprite admitted.
Ruby didn’t reply to that; instead, she said, “Can I ask you something else?”
“If you wish.”
“How will it… how?” Ruby asked, in a voice so quiet it was barely more than a whisper.
“Publicly, before the warriors and the clan chiefs,” Sunsprite said, her voice nearly as soft and quiet as Ruby’s. “We will both be given a sword. We will fight under the eyes of the Queen… and I will defeat you.”
“What if you don’t?” Ruby asked.
Sunsprite turned around, looking down on Ruby. “It is said by those who have braved the journey, that over the mountains, huntresses live by a code, is that so?”
Ruby looked up into her cousin’s single silver eye. “Yes,” she murmured. “Yeah, I suppose we do have something that you could call a code.”
“And are you a huntress?” Sunsprite asked.
“Not technically, I never got my license or anything, but…” Ruby trailed off, thinking. Was she a huntress? Did she feel like a huntress? What did it even mean to feel like a huntress? She felt as though she would have known the answer to that once, but not any more. “I don’t know. Why?”
“Because if you are a huntress, if you are true to their code, if you meant what you have said to me,” Sunsprite said, “then you will die.”
Ruby stared at her silently. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t this. “You want me to just let you kill me?”
“The Queen has betrayed you, I concede that,” Sunsprite said. “I will not pretend that it was otherwise. I have betrayed you too, and all I can do is say that we had good reason: there is a horde of grimm not far beyond the walls, and it will be unleashed on Freeport unless the envoy of your enemy is placated with your death.”
Ruby’s eyes widened. “I… I led them here?”
“You did,” Sunsprite said, and though the substance of her words was harsh, her tone was not unkind. “When we talked of the Breach, you told me that you would rather have died than put Vale in danger through your survival. Do you still believe that?”
Ruby nodded her head. “I do.”
“Then why should your survival be worth more than that of Freeport and all who dwell within these walls?” Sunsprite asked.
Ruby closed her eyes. She thought about her grandfather, old and blind and infirm, sick and ailing and vulnerable; if the grimm breached the defences, then they would tear him to pieces. She thought about Smolder and Ember and Garble; she thought about Yona, about her uncle, her parents and her grandparents, her little brother and sister; once more, they would huddle beneath the wagon as they had at King’s Camp, but this time, there would be no inexplicable miracle from heaven to deliver them. They would all die.
Or they would all survive, for the cost of a handful of lives.
“Why should your survival be worth more than that of Freeport and all who dwell within these walls?”
“It shouldn’t,” she said. “I… I understand. I will do what must be done.”
Sunsprite nodded her head, a short and awkward gesture. She raised her hand, hesitated, and then finally clasped Ruby’s shoulder warmly. “You are well worthy of your eyes and of the name of Rose,” she declared. “I truly regret that we did not have more time together.”
“Me too,” Ruby whispered.
Mom, Yang, wait for me.
For a moment, they stood in silence, lingering in the corridor, before Sunsprite awkwardly turned away. “It… it’s this way,” she said. “Come on.”
She led Ruby to a pair of large but crudely made double doors; the original doors must have been ruined a long time ago, because these doors were just bits of wood cobbled haphazardly together, forming a pair of barriers in the doorway. Nevertheless, they swung open easily enough as Sunsprite pushed them open, admitting a blaze of bright light into the dark corridor.
And yet, it would be a different kind of light into which I’ll walk soon enough, once I pass that threshold.
The two Rangers escorting them halted, but Ruby didn’t need them to push her onwards as she followed her cousin through the doorway into a vast cavernous pit. The floor was covered in sand, the walls that surrounded the ring were initially built of stone, and hung about with a variety of weapons: swords of various shapes, sizes and degrees of quality of make; axes crude and well-crafted, hammers, knives, spears. No guns and no sign of her Crescent Rose anywhere.
It was a pity. She didn’t want to fight, but she would have liked to die with her precious baby in hand.
Above the pit, the stone walls gave way to mesh wire fencing, and to levels upon which people watched, looking down upon the pit and those who stepped into it from above. There were some who looked like Rangers of Freeport, horned faunus with tattoos who looked like they might belong to the Fall Forest Clan like Sami, others dressed in clothing crude and colourful that Ruby did not recognise, and there were warriors of the Frost Mountain and Summer Fire Clans; she spotted Ember, Garble, and Prince Rutherford all looking down upon her, surrounded by their people.
Prince Rutherford was scowling, while Ember gave Ruby a grave nod as their eyes met.
Some of the watchers hooted and hollered as the two Roses entered the arena, while others seemed to shout at them – or at someone – in disapproval, shaking their heads and fists alike. It all formed a clamorous tumult that made it impossible for Ruby to make out any words that were being said.
High above, higher than the other watchers, and with no wire but only distance separating them from the combatants, the Sun Queen sat enthroned, the light of the torches flickering upon her golden mask, her robes gathered around her, attended by guards and by her officers… and by someone that Ruby didn’t recognise, a pony faunus with both ears and tail. Her mane was like fire, streaks of crimson and gold that seemed to flicker with the way her hair curled, and her eyes were bright green. She stood by the Queen’s side, her hands clasped behind her back, not looking at Ruby.
And with the royal party, too, stood Tyrian; he was standing on the edge of the raised dais, his hands clasped together, leaning forward expectantly.
Sami and Bon Bon stood behind him, far back, against the wall; they seemed to be watching one another as much as they were looking at Ruby and Sunsprite.
Ruby walked into the centre of the pit and then stopped, expectant. She looked at Sunsprite but didn’t say anything; she wasn’t sure that her cousin could have heard anything she said.
Sunsprite didn’t try and make herself heard either, although she did turn and approach Ruby, but not to kill her, only to uncuff her. The shackles fell to the sand beneath with a solid thump, but Ruby did not reactivate her aura.
What would have been the point of that?
Sunsprite stepped back and drew her sword, but made no move to use it.
Still, the clamour filled the cavernous chamber, descending in waves to the pit beneath and ascending in gusts to the ceiling high above.
The Sun Queen rose from her throne, and as she stood, she raised her hands above her head. “Peace!” she cried. “Peace, friends and allies of Freeport, I pray you quiet!”
The sounds of the crowd subsided, like a storm dying down, and peace did descend upon the packed assembly.
“All of you know,” the Sun Queen said, “that since I took the throne here in Freeport, I have been tireless in my work to make this city safe, a place where we may gather, live, work, and build a nation as great as any that currently exists in Remnant. All of you know that I am remorseless in my opposition to any who threaten the survival of this place, the destruction of this symbol of harmony and cooperation that we have made together. All of you know that I will not hesitate to punish treachery, if I find that it threatens the precious jewel that we have in our hands. You are of Freeport, or you are an enemy of Freeport, and the enemies of Freeport will pay with their lives!
“The bell has sounded. You know why you are here. What you may not know is how much this pains me. Believe me, my people, my friends, my allies, my good and faithful subjects, I take no joy in this. If I could, I would sooner pluck out my own heart than bear witness to this.
“But that would serve Freeport not at all. That would protect Freeport not at all.
“Ruby Rose, you have brought evil and danger to Freeport, do you deny it?”
Ruby swallowed. “No,” she confessed. “No, I don’t deny it. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put anyone in danger.”
“Nevertheless, danger has followed you,” the Sun Queen declared. “As has your cousin, Sunsprite Rose.”
A cry of shock seemed to rise up from every throat, not just from Ruby and from Sunsprite but from everyone watching too. Even Bon Bon looked surprised, although the rest of the Sun Queen’s party did not.
“My Queen?” Sunsprite asked, her mouth forming an O of shock.
“What does this mean?” Ember demanded. “Sunsprite is a Ranger and a loyal servant of Freeport!”
“Sunsprite fight alongside Frost Mountain Clan!” Prince Rutherford bellowed. “Sunsprite fight for Sun Queen!”
“It is true; I do not deny it,” the Sun Queen confessed. “Sunsprite has pledged herself into my service and served me faithfully. Yet Freeport is worth more than any one life, even the life of a valued and faithful servant. Sunsprite, for the greater good of our kingdom of Estmorland, your life is forfeit alongside your cousin.”
As shouting rose from the crowd once more, the Sun Queen shouted to make herself heard. “Let this stand as a lesson of what I will do for you!” she yelled. “Let this be an example of what suffering I will endure for this, our kingdom, that I shall give up one who is dear to me for its sake and survival. I will sacrifice anything for your sake! Look on this and remember that!”
“Wait!” Ruby cried. “You can kill me if you want to, but Sunsprite didn’t do anything! Why are you punishing her because of something I did?”
The Sun Queen looked down on her, the eye-holes in her mask seeming black and pitiless, and said nothing.
“Please?!” Ruby begged. “Please, this isn’t anything to do with Sunsprite. She has her grandfather to take care of. Please, spare her life. She’s not a part of this.” She looked at Tyrian. “She’s not your enemy.”
Tyrian cackled. “How noble. She was willing to kill you, but now you plead for her life.”
“She doesn’t deserve to die,” Ruby said. “Not like I do.”
I stopped Twilight from opening the gate, I got Yang killed. This is what I deserve, but Sunsprite? She doesn’t deserve any of this. Why does she have to die?
“She has silver eyes,” Tyrian said.
“So?” Ruby demanded. To the Sun Queen she said, “You can’t trust him! He’s evil! You can’t listen to him when he tells you to kill your friend!”
“So a loyal retainer dies upon the word of a villain?” Ember shouted. “Who is this man who has the power of life and death over those who pledge their faith to you, O Queen? Are we all under the threat of this rogue and his enmity?”
“Keep talking, and you may find out,” Tyrian growled.
“My decision is made!” the Sun Queen shouted. “My word is given! Sunsprite, begin!”
“Wait-“ Ruby began to cry.
“Ruby,” Sunsprite said. “That’s enough.”
Ruby gasped. “You… but…”
“I am at the service of the Sun Queen,” Sunsprite declared. “My life is hers to take, if she wishes.”
Ruby’s eyes widened. “You can’t just-”
“I am many things, some of them bad, but I am not a hypocrite, I hope,” Sunsprite said. “I told you it was better for you to die than Freeport suffer. The same applies to me. I am but one life.” She hesitated, then took a step forward, reversing her blade and balancing it upon her forearm as she pointed the hilt towards Ruby. “And for that reason, I ask you to kill me.”
“What?” Ruby yelled.
“If I must die, then I would rather die without my cousin’s blood upon my hands,” Sunsprite said.
Ruby stared at her silently, her mouth hanging open. All around her, people were shouting, their words lost in the press of people crying out, everything dissolving into a mass of excited noise, but Ruby alone said nothing.
In all the clamour, Sunsprite’s words cut through. “I am aware of the irony in asking you to do what I will not, but I think you are someone willing to do what is right, however dirty or disreputable it may seem.”
Ruby stared at the sword. It was well-fashioned, with a handsome black hilt, a crossguard of vivid green shaped like the thorns of a rose, and the pommel like the flower itself, layers of petals fashioned out of crystal in red, yellow, and white unfolded as though before the sun.
It was a fine sword, but she did not want to use it to kill her cousin.
“No,” she said.
“Ruby,” Sunsprite said reproachfully.
“I won’t do it,” Ruby declared. “This is my problem, not yours.”
“Both our lives are commanded to end.”
“That doesn’t make it right!”
“What do right and wrong matter when lives are at stake?”
“I… I don’t know,” Ruby admitted. “But I think they do.”
“Ugh, boring,” Tyrian moaned. “You know what they say, if you want something done right,” – he leapt down into the pit with them, landing nimbly on his feet despite the distance – “then do it yourself!”
“No!” Ruby cried as he lunged towards Sunsprite.
Sunsprite turned, slowly, almost lazily, her yellow cloak swirling around her like… like long golden hair.
Tyrian thrust out his hands, the blades of his claws gleaming before he buried them both in Sunsprite’s chest.
Blood burst from Sunsprite’s mouth as his guns went off.
Ruby screamed.
And the world descended into chaos.
The Queen’s words had changed everything.
Ember had not liked what was going on – she hadn’t liked it, in spite of what Rutherford thought – but she had been willing to accept it when it was only Ruby Rose that was fated to die. She liked Ruby, she didn’t think that she deserved death, and she didn’t know if the Queen was telling the truth when she said that it was Ruby’s life or the destruction of Freeport, but if she was… Ruby was a stranger here, and Ember was responsible for the safety of the Summer Fire Clan. She didn’t like it, but there it was.
But this? This changed everything! If the Queen was willing to sacrifice not just a stranger but a servant, a good servant, one who had sworn loyalty to Freeport and the Queen, then where would it end? Was anyone safe?
What was the good of sacrificing for Freeport, when anyone in Freeport could be sacrificed?
Sunsprite Rose had fought alongside Ember, as many other Rangers had. She had fought to protect the clans who observed the Queen’s Peace; she had fought to create the Sun Queen’s vision of a nation united, no more towns and clans and steadings but a single kingdom, united under one ruler.
It was a vision that Sunsprite had shared in, and Ember had shared in it too, until it became clear that that vision did not even extend to protecting those who pledged themselves to see it into being. Sunsprite had sworn her oath to the Sun Queen; that placed her life in the Queen’s hands, yes, but it was an oath that should have been rewarded with honour, land, and silver, and if the latter two were not particularly forthcoming, then at least – land and silver being scarce everywhere – the first one was bestowed. It was an oath that should have been rewarded with protection also, with loyalty falling like rain as well as rising like fire.
But it seemed that there was no loyalty, only a willingness to sacrifice anything – or anyone.
Ember pushed through the crowd; the warriors of the Summer Fire Clan made way for her, and though she was smaller than many of the Frost Mountain Clan, she was strong enough to shoulder her way through their ranks until she was standing beside Prince Rutherford.
“If you’re going to do something,” she said, “then I won’t stop you.”
Prince Rutherford looked down on her. “Ember betray Sun Queen?”
“The Sun Queen will not hesitate to betray us, it seems,” Ember growled. “You were right.”
Prince Rutherford did not reply; there was no time to reply; the scorpion faunus whose arrival had heralded all these troubles had leapt down into the pit and buried his blades in Sunsprite’s chest before anyone could react.
He fired, point blank, into the Rose scion, and as he fired – and as Ruby screamed – it was Rutherford’s turn to leap. With his vast strength, he tore through the wire separating him from the pit, crushing it beneath him as he landed atop it. Ember leapt after him, landing heavily upon the sand, one fist pounding the floor, the other – holding her staff of lordship – held out to her right.
The scorpion looked at them, and his face twisted with annoyance as he threw the bloody form of Sunsprite Rose aside.
Ember roared, and as she roared, her semblance, dragonfire, roared too, in a great torrent of flame that erupted from out of her mouth to scorch the sand and blacken the wall behind the faunus – or rather, where he had been, for he leapt nimbly out of the way of her gust.
Prince Rutherford moved to place his considerable bulk between Ruby and him who meant to do her harm.
“What is the meaning of this?” the Sun Queen demanded. “How dare you trespass against the will of your queen?”
“You are not my queen,” Ember snarled. “Summer Fire! To arms!”
“Frost Mountain attack!”
Whatever love there might be for Freeport in the hearts of the clans, they were first and foremost of the Summer Fire and the Frost Mountain, and they heeded the voices of their chiefs just as their fathers and mothers had for generations stretching back for untold ages. And at the commands of those voices, they turned upon the warriors of Freeport. They had no weapons – only the Queen’s own servants were permitted to go armed in the Tower of the Sun, although Ember was able to excuse her staff as a symbol of her rank – but they fell upon those who were now their enemies with fists and feet and any useful semblances that they possessed.
The chamber filled with the shouts and ringing sounds of battle.
And the scorpion faunus beheld it all and laughed to see it.
“Is that gunfire?” Cardin asked.
Cinder listened; the sounds were muffled down here, like thunder far off, but since when had they been lucky enough that it would just be thunder?
“I think you’re right,” she growled. She growled some more as she pulled fruitlessly upon the wooden bars of the cage that confined her. If only I was still the Fall Maiden, then I would never have ended up in this position.
Sunset Shimmer, whoever you are, you must have been very persuasive to talk me into giving thatose up.
“Are they shooting at Ruby?” Lyra asked tremulously.
Cinder listened some more. It wasn’t just gunfire that she could hear; there seemed to be a good amount of shouting going on as well; there was a greater clamour than shots alone would have accounted for.
“I’m not so sure,” she murmured.
“Why not?” Cardin asked.
“Because they’re making too much noise to be shooting at Ruby,” Cinder replied.
“I hope you’re right,” Cardin said. “Maybe she caught a break.”
“Maybe,” Cinder agreed cautiously. “But we will not know until someone comes down here and deigns to tell us.”
“Perhaps,” Torchwick said. “Or perhaps not.”
Before Cinder could demand that he elaborate, she heard – much more closely than the shots or the shouting – footsteps descending the stairs towards them. There was no torch; at least, Cinder could see no light, but she could hear the footsteps on the stone, getting closer and closer.
She could only hear one set of steps, and it was only one figure that appeared: a single Ranger, a young woman with a slight build and a submachine gun in her hands. Her features were hard to make out in the dark, and her voice was silent as she approached.
“What’s going on?” Cinder demanded.
Still, the Ranger said nothing. She stood before the wooden bars of their cell, staring at them – or so it seemed; her eyes were difficult to see.
And then her whole body was illuminated by a pale pink light, as shards of tinted glass seemed to shatter all around her, dropping off her body like skin shed from a serpent, revealing the even smaller figure of Neapolitan, wearing Torchwick’s hat upon her head.
She curtsied, spreading her arms out on either side of her.
Torchwick climbed to his feet. “Perfect timing as always, Neo. I don’t suppose you happened to have the keys on you as well?”
Neo held up one hand, and although Cinder couldn’t see what she was holding very well, the jingling sound was unmistakable.
Torchwick chuckled. “Of course. I never doubted you for a second.”
Neo got to work, unlocking the padlock and pulling the chain that held the door shut out from around the bars and throwing it aside. It turned out she also had the keys to the shackles as well, and one by one, their restraints fell heavily to the ground, thumping onto the layer of straw that covered the stone.
Cinder rubbed her wrists as she felt her aura return to her, and with it, all her strength and vitality. Now that she knew what she was up against, and Ruby would not be interfering with her in a misguided attempt at doing the right thing, then let all her enemies beware.
“I don’t suppose you know what’s going on up there, do you?” Cardin asked.
Neo signed something.
“Hang on a second; I can barely see your fingers,” Torchwick said, patting his pockets. “And of course I left my-”
There was a click, and the flame of Torchwick’s lighter illuminated the darkness of their cell, lighting up the smug look on Neo’s face.
“You are an angel, kid,” Torchwick said, plucking the lighter from her hand. “Now, you were saying?”
Neo signed again.
“She says there’s some kind of civil war going on up there,” Torchwick said. “Seems like our old travelling buddies from the clans have turned against the Queen. Guess nobody wanted to see Little Red put to death.”
“Now is our moment then,” Cinder declared. “We take advantage of the chaos, rescue Ruby, and capture the Queen herself.”
“'Capture'?” Cardin asked. “Why?”
“Because she has stolen something, from all of us, and she may not be able to give it back if she is dead,” Cinder declared.
“I don’t remember anything being stolen,” Cardin said.
“You wouldn’t; that’s the point,” Cinder replied. “I know that it sounds strange, but there is no time to explain it now. You have to trust me.”
Cardin hesitated for a moment. “Okay,” he said, sighing a little. “We capture the Sun Queen.”
Taiyang groaned where he lay on the floor.
“Somebody ought to stay with him; he’s not in much position to move or fight,” Torchwick said. “I volunteer Neo.”
Neo sucked in a sharp intake of breath, putting her hands on her hips as she glared up at him.
“Don’t look at me like that; I’m just trying to look out for you!”
“Do it,” Cardin said. “Neo, stay with Taiyang; the rest of you with me; let’s go.”
Sunset stared down at the chaos unfolding before her. Caught by surprise, her Rangers were losing ground against the brutal savagery of the Frost Mountain and the Summer Fire clans, while the representatives of the other clans seemed torn whether to support her or not, and were losing ground.
Meanwhile, Ember and Prince Rutherford were defending Ruby against Tyrian, and while they hadn’t killed him yet, he didn’t seem able to get past them either.
Ungrateful savages! She had come here to sort out their benighted and abandoned patch of the world, she had given them peace and security, she had laboured on their behalf night and day, and this was how they repaid her? Bad enough that they were suspicious and obstinate towards her rule and her intentions, but now this? Rebellion?!
So be it. It was treason then, and they had made their choice to suffer the wages of treason for themselves and all their people.
You were of Freeport, or you were an enemy of Freeport. She would destroy these wretched clans, she would expurgate every last trace of them from the world, she would make mountains out of their skulls, she would make it so that when men spoke of the Frost Mountain or the Summer Fire Clans in future, it would only be as a cautionary tale of what happened to those who dared defy the power of Freeport!
“Laurel!” she snapped. “Get every Ranger, everyone in the tower who can hold a spear or a gun, in here now! Cherry, go to the barracks; I want watches placed on the camps of these two clans, but bring everyone else to reinforce us. We’ll destroy their warriors in the tower, then take our revenge.”
“'Revenge'?” Cherry murmured.
“Did I stutter? Yes! Go!” Sunset yelled, starting towards them, making Cherry flinch backwards in a squeak of alarm, before both she and Laurel made their exit, dashing out of the chamber to rally Sunset’s troops within and without the Tower of the Sun.
“A little magic might come in handy,” Sunset suggested testily to Dawn, who was watching the unfolding chaos without reacting to it.
Dawn, wearing the other Sunset’s body, nodded. “Right. As you command, my Queen. I’ve got this.”
She took a step back, a frown creasing their shared face, before she held out her hands, palms facing towards the rioting mob battling beneath them.
A green light began to glow around her hands.
Beneath her mask, Sunset began to smile.
And then the light disappeared, fizzling out into nothingness. Dawn blinked, her frown deepened in confusion… and then let out a drawn out groan of pain; she started to clutch at her forehead before she doubled up in pain. She staggered backwards, one hand grabbing her forehead, still moaning, before she toppled over onto the wooden platform.
The moaning stopped as she began to spasm uncontrollably, arms and legs twitching as though she were being shocked.
“Dawn?” Sunset asked, kneeling down beside her. “Dawn, what’s going on? Dawn, can you hear me? Dawny?”
The world shuddered as Sunset ran down the Beacon corridor, with Amber one step behind. They were heading for the door, the opaque glass door decorated with swirling patterns of metal, out of which Dawn had emerged to deceive her.
Which meant it was a pretty good guess that they could get into Dawn’s mind the same way.
“I’m not sure how much time we have left,” Amber said as the shaking of the corridor nearly threw Sunset to her knees.
“Hopefully as much time as we need,” Sunset growled, picking herself back up again and launching herself back into a run, her booted feet pounding upon the surface of the trembling corridor in a sprint that carried her to the glass-and-metal door. Her hand reached out and touched the handle; it was as cold as winter… which made sense, considering that Dawn had talked about going to Atlas Academy – although in Atlas, the heating grid generally stopped it getting too cold, as Sunset understood.
Either way, Sunset’s fingers closed around the frigid handle… and stopped.
Amber ran to the other side of the door, poised and waiting. “Sunset? What’s wrong?”
Sunset closed her eyes. “Am I doing the right thing, Amber?”
“You can’t doubt it.”
“Obviously I can, because I am doubting it,” Sunset replied.
“If you don’t do this,” Amber reminded her, “then Ruby will die.”
“Maybe… maybe that’s what she’d want,” Sunset murmured. “She hates that I saved her life in the tunnel; that’s why our relationship is… maybe I’m just-”
“No,” Amber insisted. “You’re not.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“You were about to ask if you’re still being selfish, like you were on the train, weren’t you?” Amber demanded. “You’re not, Sunset; you have to put that behind you.”
“What will happen if we save Ruby?” Sunset asked. “Will Freeport suffer?”
“No-”
“If you say ‘no one is ever told any story but their own,’ then so help me-”
“I don’t know,” Amber admitted. “I only know as much as you and Cinder know.”
“What about your gift of foresight?”
“It doesn’t tell me everything,” Amber replied. “I don’t know if saving Ruby and the others will lead to suffering for the people of Freeport, but I do know that if Salem wins, then the sufferings of one town, however large, will pale in comparison. Tell Ruby that if she wants to play games with numbers.”
“The victory or defeat of Salem is not in our hands,” Sunset whispered.
“Then where does it lie?” Amber asked. “Who will withstand her if not you?”
Sunset didn’t reply, at least not at first. “I… will she forgive me for this?”
“Would you not rather she was alive to hate you then contentedly dead?” Amber asked.
“Yes,” Sunset admitted.
Amber nodded. “Besides, she doesn’t remember you at all the moment.”
Sunset’s eyes narrowed. “Great.”
“Sorry. There isn’t much of an upside to that, is there?” Amber asked. She looked up as the corridor bucked violently back and forth. “But we don’t have time for this, Sunset; do you want to do this or not?”
“Yes!” Sunset cried. “Yes, I want to do this. And I will.” Ruby could hate her, but she wouldn’t allow her to die by her inaction. She thought, and from her thought, she conjured Sol Invictus and Soteria, appearing slung across her back, their weight a reassuring comfort upon her shoulders. Sunset didn’t know if they would survive the transition into Dawn’s mind, but she lost nothing by trying. “Let’s do this,” she said, and pushed the door open, stepping through the open portal into a blinding white light.
Sunset closed her eyes, screwing them up tight as she walked forward, one step and then another, until she felt the light dim enough that she could open up her eyes again.
It was not Atlas, but it was definitely a northern town; snow lay on the streets and covered the roofs of the houses, lending an air of Hearth's Warming Eve to the whole place until Sunset half expected a group of carollers to show up and start singing. The buildings were Atlesian in style, with doors of glass and metal like the one they had just walked through, solid walls of regular, square-cut stone, with marble columns before the town-hall-looking building directly ahead. Neon signs hung above the doors or jutted out from the higher storeys, although none of them were lit at present… actually, that was not quite right, as Sunset looked around she saw that one sign was lit up: the sign for the CCT Café was flashing red and white.
Amber stepped forward, crunching the snow beneath her boots, until she was standing level with Sunset. “What now?”
Sunset looked at her. “Don’t you know?”
“No,” Amber admitted. “Why would I? I’ve never done anything like this before. Besides, you’re the one whose semblance is entering other people’s souls.”
“Maybe I should have learnt how to use it,” Sunset muttered. “But, despite that lapse, I think that I know where to go.”
“Where?”
“To the place that’s inviting us,” Sunset said, and with those words, she strode forwards, leaving footsteps in the snow behind her as she walked down the street. It was night; the moon was a pale crescent hanging above, and the stars seemed cold and distant as they shone down upon them. The streetlights were lit, and they walked between patches of light and spots of darkness on their way through the deserted town.
Amber followed in Sunset’s footsteps as they walked past dark and unlit shops, past a bar with its doors open to reveal an interior shrouded in impenetrable gloom, until they came to the CCTnet café, the only place in the whole town that was illuminated, at least as far as Sunset could see. It was a sterile place, with rows and rows of computer terminals set up tightly packed together, separated with opaque white plastic screens, with identical chairs with black cushions and backs of web or mesh, sitting facing them. The walls were white, devoid of decoration of any kind.
The terminals were blank, all save for one that was running a video game, some sort of first person military shooter. It was running despite the lack of anyone playing on it, the protagonist running through the corridors, shooting anything that got in his way.
“What is this place?” Amber asked as she followed Sunset through the door.
“I think this is their… their sanctum,” Sunset said. “Like the dorm room is for me.”
“This is where they feel safe?” Amber’s voice was filled with disbelief. “This is where they feel at home?”
“I’m not here to judge; I’m just here to get my body back,” Sunset muttered.
“How?” inquired Amber.
Sunset walked into the café, approaching the terminal where the video game was playing. “I think,” she said, “that very soon-”
Alarms began to wail in the town outside, sirens blaring out for no one to hear.
“Warning: perimeter breach,” the announcement sounded automated, a message cobbled together out of pre-recorded words and syllables, canned orders being broadcast over the loudspeaker. “Please seek shelter and await further announcements. Repeat. Warning: perimeter breach…”
The sirens continued to blare out, joined by a sound like the rumbling of an approaching train, a rumbling that rattled the windows in the CCT café and made the building shake.
“How is this happening?” Amber cried. “The deterioration should only be affecting your mind, not hers!”
“Because this isn’t deterioration,” Sunset replied, holding onto a plastic privacy screen for support as she faced the door.
“Then what is it?”
Sunset grinned. “Someone’s mad at me.”
A chill wind blew into the café as Dawn flung the door open hard enough to slam it into the window. A light dusting of snow blew in behind her, carried by the biting wind as she stomped inside, her green eyes blazing with wrath. When she spoke, every word was as sharp as a dagger.
“What,” she snarled, “are you doing here? This is my mind, how dare you!?”
“The boot isn’t nearly as comfortable on the other foot, is it?” Sunset asked.
Dawn glared. “I was prepared to be nice,” she said, “but now, I think I’m going to-”
“What?” Sunset demanded. “Kill me? Kill Ruby? Kill Cinder? All the things that I know that you’re going to do anyway?.”
Dawn hesitated. “How do you know that?” She looked at Amber. “And who are you?”
“Never mind that,” Sunset said. “Why?”
“Because it’s for the best,” Dawn said. Her voice softened, becoming smoother. “Did your little friend over there tell you that there’s an army of grimm massed outside our walls? That Ruby’s life was the price to keep those grimm from falling upon our town?”
“You promised me-”
“Before I knew about the grimm!” Dawn snapped. “I’m not happy about it, but Sunset’s right; we had no choice. I won’t lose another home to those monsters!”
Amber gasped. “This place… the perimeter breach…”
“It wasn’t contained, was it?”
Dawn’s face hardened. “No,” she said. “No, it wasn’t. The walls were breached, the grimm… you can guess what happened.” She took a step forward. “I was in here when it happened. Playing video games with Sunset over the CCT.” She looked down at one of the terminals, one hand brushing against the desk. She glanced back up at Sunset. “I hid in the janitor’s closet while my parents, my home… while everyone was devoured by the grimm. And do you know why they didn’t find me? Why they didn’t sense my fear?”
“Because you’re a sociopath?” Sunset guessed.
Dawn let out a false laugh. “Because of Sunset,” she said. “The real Sunset, my Sunset. She stayed on the line with me, talking to me, keeping me calm, for hours until the rescue and recovery teams found me. She means everything to me. She’s all I have. She’s the reason I’m alive, and so, I won’t let her dream die. Not for Ruby. Not for you.”
“And I won’t let you kill my friends,” Sunset growled.
“So you’ll make the same choice you made in Vale?” Dawn demanded. “The same choice you made at the Breach? You’re going to sacrifice a whole community for a handful of lives?”
“I’ll save everyone!” Sunset shouted. “My friends and your town and even you and yours, however undeserving you are!”
Dawn smirked. “A little late for that.”
Sunset’s eyes widened. A chill ran down her spine. “What do you mean by that?” she demanded.
“Past tense,” Amber whispered, covering her mouth with both hands.
No. Please, Celestia, no. “What?” Sunset snapped.
“You’ve been using past tense,” Amber repeated.
The smirk on Dawn’s face widened. “That’s right, Sunset. Ruby understood, you see. She isn’t a self-centred bitch like you, so she understood what was really at stake. She understood that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. And so, when we came to take her life… she didn’t resist.”
A sound that was half-gasp, half-sob rose out of Sunset’s throat. Her tail drooped to the floor; she bowed her head as tears welled up in her eyes. Ruby… Ruby was… Ruby was dead. Ruby, who had hated her; Ruby, who had loved her; Ruby who had been so much more than just a partner to her; Ruby, dead and gone and beyond recall. That bright smile, that shining light, that lovely rose all gone, all snuffed out. Ruby was dead.
And she died not hating me, but not knowing who I was. That… that was worse, in Sunset’s eyes. She had died… she would never understand… she was dead, and she had died alone, thinking that… what had she been thinking when she died?
What did it matter? She was dead.
Despite the fact that she wasn’t really breathing, Sunset found that her breaths were coming more quickly, her chest rising and falling.
“You can’t save her, Sunset,” Dawn cooed softly. “So why don’t you just-?”
“Shut up!” The words came at a bark out of Sunset’s mouth as she raised her face to bare her teeth at Dawn. Her ears flattened down on top of her head. “Shut up!” she roared, as the green light of magic gathered in her hands. A part of her didn’t want Amber to see this, but the rest of her was past caring or control. “I’ll kill you,” she snarled, before repeating it in a roar to make the Royal Canterlot Voice seem like a mere whisper. “I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU!”
Dawn raised her hands, conjuring a shield of shimmering green magic in front of her. “Don’t leave IOUs you can’t pay, Sunset; you gave me your memories, remember? I have your power at my command now.”
Sunset grinned, a vicious, bloodthirsty grimace like a shark spotting a seal in the water; the glow of magic in her hands intensified as the rest of Sunset’s body began to shine with an ethereal light, power blazing out of her from every pore. “Tell me something, Dawn,” she growled. “How long has it been? A day? Then perhaps you didn’t have time to learn one very important lesson.”
“And what’s that?”
“Unicorn magic,” Sunset said, “is enhanced by their emotions!” She screamed wordlessly, and as she screamed, she struck, and as she struck, she poured out into her magic all of her anger, all her fury, all her grief, all her sorrow.
She would save Freeport, in Ruby’s memory, because it was what Ruby would have wanted and what the true huntress that Ruby represented would have done; she would fight on, in Ruby’s name, with Ruby in her heart, and she would go to Mistral and carry the news of her death to Jaune and Pyrrha because they deserved to know the truth, for all that it would break their hearts as it had broken Sunset’s.
But before that, she would tear the Sun Queen’s whole cabal to pieces.
All of that poured out of Sunset in a beam of magic as tall as she was, a beam that tore up the floor of the CCTnet café on its way to Dawn.
Sunset had a moment to appreciate the look of mounting horror on Dawn’s face before Sunset’s beam shattered her shield like glass.
For a second, Dawn Starfall remained, hanging suspended amidst the flow of magic, looking almost like a silhouette, dark against the magical light. A silhouette that was screaming at the top of her lungs as the magic tore her apart. Sunset watched it happen, watched Dawn’s mental body disintegrate before her eyes.
And she was fairly certain that, in this place, in her own mind, Dawn could die as readily as anyone.
And die she did. When the magic faded, there was nothing left of her, not even ashes amidst the trench in the floor and out into the street beyond that Sunset had blasted.
There was nothing left at all.
That’s one.
Amber was covering her mouth with her hands. “S-Sunset?” she murmured.
Sunset blinked. Tears were streaming down her face. She couldn’t have stopped them even if she wanted to, for Ruby… Ruby was dead.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You… you shouldn’t have had to… I should go.” She began to walk briskly towards the exit.
“Sunset?” Amber repeated.
Sunset stopped. “What?” she demanded.
“I’m so sorry,” Amber whispered.
Sunset didn’t look at her. “A lot of people are going to be sorry by the time I’m done,” she growled and stalked out.
She looked up, wiping away the tears filling her eyes so that she could see better. The stars were gone. The moon was gone. The sky was nothing but blackness up above.
And the sirens had stopped sounding. Sunset looked behind her. All was black. The street lights were going out. Darkness was consuming everything.
Sunset looked ahead, to the doorway between her mind and Dawn’s; from this angle, it looked the doorway into a dorm room at Beacon. The darkness was closing in upon it.
She didn’t wait for Amber; she knew that the Fall Maiden would be fine; the one who had to get back to her own body was herself. Sunset teleported, appearing in a burst of magic just before her door, a door that she yanked open and threw herself through the into the light-
“Dawn?” the Sun Queen cried, shaking her friend by the shoulder. “Dawny?”
The eyes of Sunset Shimmer snapped open, and with one hand, she reached up to grab the Sun Queen by the throat and squeeze.
“I’ll kill you,” she snarled.