//------------------------------//
// Mean Streets (New) 
// Story: SAPR 
// by Scipio Smith 
//------------------------------//


Mean Streets


The Bus soared through the night sky towards Mantle, passing through the clouds as it devoured the leagues of tundra that lay between Atlas and its mother city. 
Right now, the auto-pilot was doing all of the work of actually flying the airship — not that there was a lot of work, given that the skies were empty, the ground beneath was peaceful, and they were flying a straight and level course towards their destination — so despite being in the pilot’s seat, Rainbow had a chance to read some more of Tukson’s book. 
“Hmm,” she murmured.
“You’re frowning,” Ciel observed from the seat next to her.
That was true, and although she hadn’t noticed it before, Rainbow couldn’t ignore it once it had been pointed out to her. She unknotted her brow. “Yeah,” she muttered. “This bit here has me thinking.”
“What about?” asked Ciel as she shifted in her seat so that she was facing Rainbow just a little more. 
Rainbow lowered the book so that it was resting in her lap. “I’ve just gotten to the start of the revolution,” she said, “when the Mistralians tried to deport all the faunus to Menagerie; now, as part of that, they tried to disarm the faunus troops whom they’d recruited during the Great War.”
Ciel nodded. “Those forces mutinied and formed the nucleus of the faunus army that fought in the revolution.”
“Right,” Rainbow said, “but what got me thinking was this bit here.” She glanced down at the book in her lap, and read aloud. “‘Labienus, perhaps the only human in Mistral who truly loved the faunus, and who saw them and treated them as his equals, had once said to them, “Watch for the moment you are told ‘Give up your arms,’ for that will be the moment to make use of them.” Labienus was dead, but Ares and the faunus troops recalled his words well and wasted no time in putting them into practice.’”
Ciel waited for a moment. “I’m afraid I don’t see the relevance. It adds a flourish to the description of what happened, but it says nothing that our history lessons did not already cover.”
“I know the facts haven’t changed, and this particular bit isn’t anything new, but … it got me thinking,” Rainbow said. “I mean, it got me thinking about the way that we don’t let ordinary folks have guns.”
Ciel raised one curious eyebrow.
“Don’t look at me like that; it’s not a stupid point!” Rainbow insisted. “In Atlas, or in Low  Town, or in Mantle, or Canterlot, or anywhere else, you have to have a licence in order to carry a weapon around. Even if you’re a regular soldier, you’re supposed to check your rifle in the barracks’ arms locker when you go off duty. And I can’t help reading this and wondering whether, maybe, Low Town wouldn’t have been allowed to get the way it was—”
“If the people living there were armed?” Ciel finished for her.
“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed.
“Hmm,” Ciel murmured. “The argument has been made before, by Mantle radicals raging at the supremacy of Atlas.” Her voice deepened a little bit, as though she were trying to sound masculine. “‘Time was when every home in Mantle had a side of bacon hanging above the fireplace and a musket resting beside it. Only bring back the musket, and the bacon will return.’”
“But you don’t agree?” Rainbow asked.
“Give it a moment’s thought, and you will not agree either,” Ciel told her. “Even leaving aside for a moment the question of whether or not it is desirable that the common citizens should be able to overthrow the government upon whims that may have nothing to do with the general good of the commonwealth, you could let the people of Mantle have as many weapons as they liked, but unless you were willing to let them have their own cruisers — which they could not afford, even if they were allowed — they still wouldn’t be a match for the military. Even ignoring our air supremacy, ordinary people with guns would be no match for the aura and training of our specialists.”
“So they just have to take it,” Rainbow said.
“They just have to vote for change, if they are so unhappy,” Ciel said. “The Council exists for a reason.” Her blue eyes narrowed. “I worry about that book sometimes.”
“Why?” Rainbow asked. “It’s just a book.”
“A book that seems to be exercising a corrupting influence.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Ciel! This book isn’t corrupting me!”
“You just suggested that the people should be armed for the purposes of insurrection,” Ciel pointed out.
“It was an idea, a thought,” Rainbow replied. “I wasn’t saying that people should actually overthrow the Council; I just meant … if you hear the people, you’ll never have to fear the people, you know? But there has to be something about the people to be afraid of, or it doesn’t work.”
“Whoever can muster the largest or most passionate armed mob is no basis for good government,” Ciel said sharply.
“I didn’t say it was,” Rainbow insisted. “But … maybe it can be a check on bad government. If those faunus had laid down their arms like they were told to, their descendants would all be living in Menagerie right now. And mine too, maybe.”
Ciel looked away, her head bowing a little as if she were focussing her attention on the controls before her. “That is what concerns me,” she said softly.
Rainbow frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When you talk about Atlas in this way … am I not allowed to be concerned?” Ciel asked. “When I met you, whatever your other faults, you were a patriot amongst patriots, but now, there are times when you sound like a—”
“Don’t say it,” Rainbow said, the slightest touch of a growl entering her voice. “I do not sound like that.”
“Do you really believe that this kingdom is so racist—”
“I didn’t say that.”
“This kingdom that has educated you and clothed you and raised you up—”
“And I am grateful,” Rainbow said, raising her voice a little to cut Ciel off. “I know how lucky I am, and I will always be grateful for that: to Twilight, to the General, to my friends, to Atlas itself. This kingdom, those people, they will always have my thanks, and my loyalty. But that’s the thing: I was lucky. You know who didn’t get educated or clothed or raised up? Gilda. Or anyone else that I grew up with.”
“Not everyone can have equally good outcomes—”
“But they should all get the opportunity to try, right?” Rainbow asked. “Ciel, answer me honestly: do you really think this kingdom is perfect? Is there really nothing you would change to make it better?”
Ciel made a harrumph sound out of the back of her throat. She clasped her hands together in her lap as she said, “I am not sure that arming people is a change I would call for the better.”
Rainbow snorted. “Okay, okay, I will let you have that one, but … come on. Nothing at all?”
Ciel said nothing, but nor did she meet Rainbow’s eyes. She stared out of the cockpit, at the dark of night and the expanse of tundra spread out before them. 
“Look, I get it,” Rainbow said. “People like us, if we say the wrong things at the wrong time … people remember. But it’s just you and me in here. There’s no one listening, there’s no recording devices, nobody is going to know if you name one thing that is less than ideal about this otherwise great kingdom. Because it is great, and we both know it; we wouldn’t be where we are without it. Believe me, I know that I wouldn’t have gotten the opportunities that I’ve had if I’d been born in Mistral, and I’m willing to bet that you wouldn’t either. But patriotism isn’t pretending that Atlas doesn’t have any flaws. It’s working to sort out those flaws so that Atlas can be even better than it was before.”
“The … the healthcare system leaves a little to be desired,” Ciel murmured. 
“Mmm,” Rainbow murmured. That wasn’t something that she’d had much trouble with herself. Twilight’s parents had paid for her health insurance when she was a kid, but Rainbow was strong as a horse and had never gotten ill once when she lived with them — she still had her appendix and everything — and now, the Academy would take care of any bills from illness or injury that she sustained. That would be the case for Ciel too, but nevertheless, Rainbow felt compelled to ask, “Are you sick?”
“No,” Ciel said immediately. “It is … I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Okay,” Rainbow agreed. If it was private, then it was private, and there wasn’t much that Rainbow could do about a health problem that one of Ciel’s family or friends was having. She paused for a moment, allowing silence just enough time to settle in the cockpit before she said, “Speaking of illness … has Penny spoken to you about her dad yet?”
Ciel glanced at Rainbow. “No,” she murmured. “You?”
“No,” Rainbow said, “and she hasn’t spoken to Twilight about it either. She did hear everything, right?”
“She certainly heard me agreeing with her father,” Ciel muttered.
“Right,” Rainbow replied. “That’s what I thought.” She reached up and started scratching the back of her neck with one hand. “I’m worried that she’s ignoring it.”
Ciel turned her head to look at Rainbow Dash. “Perhaps she’s talked about it with Ruby, or Pyrrha, or even Sunset Shimmer.”
“I thought about that, and I asked Sunset about it,” Rainbow said. “Discreetly. I didn’t tell her anything about Doctor Polendina in case Penny hadn’t spoken to her. She said they hadn’t discussed her father.”
“She might have been lying to protect Penny’s privacy,” Ciel suggested.
“Or she could be telling the truth and Penny hasn’t talked about it with anyone,” Rainbow countered. “I don’t think Sunset would lie about that, and I think she’d know if Penny had spoken to Pyrrha or Ruby about it. I think she’s ignoring it. Not talking about it to anyone? It’s not healthy.”
“Her father is dying,” Ciel said. “No amount of words can change that.”
“I know, but … how does she feel about it?” Rainbow asked. “I don’t know; do you know?”
“No,” Ciel muttered with a glance away from Rainbow Dash. 
“At the moment, all she might see is the fact that he wants to keep her on a lead,” Rainbow said. “But at some point, she’ll miss him, and she’ll regret that she … or maybe not; I don’t know. But her father’s dying, and that’s not something that she should be going through by herself. She needs to open up to someone so that they can help her through it. And it doesn’t have to be us — in fact, since Ruby lost her mom and Pyrrha’s dad died, they might be better able to help her than we can — but it needs to be someone.” 
She stopped for a moment and moved from scratching the back of her neck to the side of her head just above her ear. 
“Do you think I should talk to her about it or maybe ask her uncle to give her a call? Unless you want to do it yourself?”
Ciel took a moment to reply. “I think her uncle would be the best choice. After all, he has a … Doctor Polendina is his brother as well as Penny’s father, so the two … I fear I do not know the words, but you take my meaning. There is a commonality there.”
“Right,” Rainbow said. “I was going to go and talk to him anyway after I dropped you off.”
“About Penny?”
“Yep.”
“Are you going to tell him that your plan to save Penny is to have her fill out transfer papers?” Ciel asked, her voice acquiring an acidic quality.
Rainbow let out a chuckle. “Is that what you and Penny talked about on the roof of the animal shelter?”
“Yes,” Ciel said. “In the main. I know that you are more optimistic than I am about the chances of Penny’s release, but even so—”
“For your information, I haven’t just decided to help Penny fill out her transfer forms,” Rainbow said. “I’ve also squared Councillor Cadenza so that if we have to fight this all the way to the top, there will be an ally for us … at the top.”
“Penny didn’t mention that,” Ciel murmured.
“I haven’t told her; I didn’t see the point,” Rainbow said.
“You should,” Ciel replied. “At the moment, she seems to think that all she needs do is fill out some forms.”
“That would be all a normal student needs to do.”
“But Penny is not a normal student,” Ciel pointed out.
“No,” Rainbow admitted. “But I think that we have to act as though she is. I mean, isn’t that the point, that Penny should be free to do what any other student could do, any other kid could do, with all the freedoms and the rights that come with it? If anyone else could just fill out the paperwork, then why should Penny have to sneak around or take special measures? I know that it sounds like I haven’t thought this through, but I have, and I really think that doing things by the book is the way to go, at least to start with.”
Ciel’s expression was inscrutable, but the way that she started tapping on her knee with her fingertips indicated that she was thinking about what Rainbow had said. “You are correct; it did sound as though you hadn’t given this any thought, but I can see now why you have decided on this course. However, that does not mean I believe it likely to succeed.”
“You have another idea?” asked Rainbow Dash. 
“No, not yet,” Ciel conceded. “But I think another way is necessary.”
“I never thought I’d see the day when you didn’t want to trust the official channels,” Rainbow said, venturing a grin.
Ciel snorted. “Yes, well … congratulations on speaking to the Councillor; perhaps it would be wise to speak to General Ironwood in advance of Penny submitting her transfer papers.”
“I thought I’d deliver the paperwork myself, have the chance to talk it over then,” Rainbow said.
“That is not exactly official channels,” Ciel pointed out.
“It’s going to land on his desk sometime,” Rainbow replied. “They always do.” She blinked. “So, wait a second, does this mean that you agree with me?”
“It means that I have agreed to help Penny do as she wishes,” Ciel said. “It means that I have, in principle, conceded that she deserves that right. I suppose, in that sense, yes, I do agree with you. I agree with you … because you were right. Penny will never accept me as someone who cares about her while I hold power over her bestowed by some higher authority which she cannot escape. I hope that, once that power is gone, we may be able to have some sort of relationship.”
Rainbow smiled. “It might not be fair, but I think that this might be the only way that you can show her just how much you really care about her. Everything else might just be following orders, doing as you were told, but this … this is for her, and Penny will realise that.” She clasped her hands together behind her back of her head. “Of course, it’s also possible that this could put both of our careers in the toilet, you know that, right?”
“I think you will be alright,” Ciel said.
“I wouldn’t leave you hanging,” Rainbow insisted. “If you get busted down to janitorial work, I’ll be right there, scrubbing the floors along with you. I’m just saying, this could leave a mark on our records. Are you prepared for that?”
The corners of Ciel’s lips twitched upwards. “The Lady teaches us that to be humiliated for speaking the truth, or for doing what is right, demeans not us but those who would torment us; that to be harmed for speaking the truth, or for doing what is right, ennobles us and reveals the darkness in those who silence us with lies and falsehoods. Many there are throughout the history of our faith who were persecuted for their beliefs and who remained true to the Lady and her teachings even during the darkest days of Mantle’s repression of expression and emotion. The authorities burned the holy scriptures, and later, they resorted to burning men for reading or for preaching said scriptures, but through it all, our ancestors held to faith and creed, though they were forced to meet in secret and pray in hushed voices. Compared to that, what will I suffer? And yet, I flatter myself that they would look more kindly upon this course than were I to turn away from injustice for the sake of my career.”
The smile on Rainbow’s face broadened a little. “Those are a lot of very nice words to say that you care more about Penny than you do about your career.”
“That…” Ciel’s face flushed. “Every word I said was true.”
“I’m sure it was,” Rainbow said. “And so was what I just said.”
“Well, yes, but…” Ciel coughed into her hand. “Of course, that is another reason why it makes sense to have Doctor Pietro approach Penny about her father’s condition: unlike us, he is not an authority figure in her life.”
Rainbow nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. I’ll bring it up when I see him. I wonder if he knows that his brother is sick?”
“If not, then you will tell him,” Ciel said.
“I guess, but I’d rather not,” Rainbow murmured. “It feels like someone who … who actually knows him, or knows Doctor Polendina, or … you know, someone other than Penny’s team leader ought to break the news.”
“And Penny should probably have heard the truth some other way than overhearing a conversation that her father didn’t even know that she could hear,” Ciel pointed out.
“Yeah,” Rainbow said softly. “Maybe that’s why she won’t talk about it; she’s waiting for someone to actually tell her?”
“Perhaps,” Ciel said sceptically. She folded her arms. “May I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Did you mean what you said to Penny in the laboratory,” Ciel said, “about a team leader’s first duty being to keep her teammates alive?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t,” Rainbow said. “You disagree?”
“A team leader’s first duty is to complete the mission,” Ciel declared. “That is every soldier’s first duty, yours and mine.”
“And yet, our mission is to make sure that Penny stays on her mission, not goes to Beacon,” Rainbow pointed out.
Ciel’s eyes narrowed. “Allowing law and justice their due,” she qualified. “Nevertheless, the duty to preserve the lives of one’s comrades, while not unimportant, is certainly not more important than completing the mission assigned to us.”
“No matter what the mission is?”
“It is not for us to decide what is and is not a worthy objective.”
“We already have,” Rainbow pointed out.
“That is not the same thing!” Ciel insisted. “In battle, we must be prepared to give our lives, and you must be prepared to spend our lives as readily your own in pursuit of the objectives that we are tasked with completing! If not, if you hold back out of a desire to preserve our lives then … think what could be the result.”
I don’t need to think; I know what the result is, Rainbow thought. She and Sunset were the only ones who knew. Six dead and Vale breached. 
Six dead, Vale breached, and seven lives saved. 
Put like that … hmm. Yeah. Well … hmm.
“Well, you can pull me up when you think it’s causing a problem in the field,” Rainbow said. “Assuming that we ever return to the field as a team, that is. Without Penny…”
“Indeed,” Ciel murmured. “Who knows what will happen?”
“Absolutely no one,” Rainbow said. She sat up straighter in her seat as the lights of Mantle began to gleam in the distance, the bright glow of the city appearing over the horizon like a rising sun, welcoming them, guiding them in. 
It looks so much more inviting from the air, doesn’t it?
“Okay, we are on approach, resuming manual control,” Rainbow said, disabling the autopilot and gripping the controls with both hands. As yet, there was no need to change course at all, but she kept a firm hand on them regardless, ready for when she would. 
They drew closer, Mantle growing not only in size but growing more distinct as well, moving out of the haze of light and resolving into … well, there was still a lot of haze down there, but there was also a city. Three layers of walls protected it from the grimm that prowled the wastes, each wall taller than the last, with gun emplacements embedded behind the rear two walls or else protruding out of ports built into the outer wall for direct fire; missile batteries sat atop tall towers, scanning the skies for the approach of aerial grimm, while androids stood by quad-barrelled guns or rotary cannons that could fire at targets in the air or on the ground — the guns themselves targeted automatically, but the androids were there to keep them loaded with ammunition and do any simple repairs if there was a jam or something. 
Beyond the walls, the city itself sat wrapped, with the tall chimneys of great factories rising up above the streets and houses, with the SDC refineries and the meat packing plants and all the other great manufactories that had made Mantle great and prosperous dominating the skyline with their huge, brutal-looking buildings that cast such long shadows over everything else. For everything else, the houses, the shops, the residential tower blocks, the streets, it was all dwarfed by those immense factories, the reason the city existed. A railway line ran out of Mantle in both directions, passing through the walls, with metal gates set in those walls that would rise up to admit a train to pass out of Mantle and into the world beyond. Mostly, as far as Rainbow knew, it was only the SDC that used trains to move their dust out of the mines in more distant parts of Solitas, but she might be wrong about that. 
Rainbow pulled the microphone off the cockpit wall next to her and spoke into it, “Mantle Control this is Echo Three-Oh-Three requesting permission to land, over.”
The speakers crackled. “Echo Three-Oh-Three, this is Mantle Control; you are directed to land at docking bay five-one. Welcome to Mantle.”
“Roger that, Control, and thanks,” Rainbow said. She put the microphone back on the wall. “Looking forward to being home?”
Ciel did not respond.
“That bad, huh?” Rainbow said.
“What? No,” Ciel said quickly.
“That wasn’t what you said a minute ago.”
“I will be very glad to see my family again,” Ciel insisted.
“Sure,” Rainbow said, deciding not to press the issue. As they approached, she began to guide her airship downwards, steering well clear of the cruisers of the Mantle Squadron that hovered over the city, getting down beneath them as she turned in the direction of Mantle HQ. 
The headquarters of the garrison had nothing on the immense factories that dominated Mantle, but it did manage to dominate the area immediately around it, if only because so much of what was around it had been cleared away, leaving wide streets and four stone plazas surrounding the building itself. Mantle was a city of metal and stone, without any greenery that could be seen from the air, but nevertheless, the area immediately around headquarters looked especially lifeless, because even as the airship flew lower and lower, Rainbow couldn’t see any people down below. The HQ was surrounded by a metal wall, which looked kind of flimsy but was no doubt enough to deter trespassers, especially since there was barbed wire on top of it. Behind the wall, the headquarters building itself rose, black and brutalist, with thick concrete columns forming a superstructure or an exoskeleton within which the building itself, all towers and flat roofs and very small windows, nestled. The flat roofs doubled as landing platforms for airships, but pad five-one, to which Rainbow’s Bus had been directed, was on the ground, identifiable by the big ‘51’ painted on the stone. Rainbow hovered above the docking pad for a moment, moving only slightly to angle for her descent, before sending the airship straight down to land next to another Skyray which was painted in far more common — and drabber — colours. 
“And here we are,” Rainbow said, opening the doors on the right hand side — the opposite side to the other airship. “Enjoy your break.”
“Thank you,” Ciel said, rising to her feet and smoothing out the creases in her cloak with both hands. 
“I’m going to head back to Atlas once I’ve spoken to Doctor Pietro,” Rainbow said. “But just give me a call if you need anything.”
Ciel nodded. “I will. Goodbye, for now.”
Rainbow sat in the pilot’s chair as Ciel left the cockpit; she heard her footsteps echoing on the metal for a few moments, and then they disappeared. Rainbow waited. She wanted to let Ciel get a head start, and since they weren’t going the same way in any case, they might as well split up here as anywhere else. 
Rainbow waited until she felt as though she’d waited long enough, at which point, she got up and left first the cockpit and then the airship itself. The side door slid closed behind her as she leapt down onto the stone of Mantle. Her eyes were drawn upwards, to where a camera mounted on the wall seemed to be looking right at her. 
Rainbow suppressed a shudder; this place gave her the creeps sometimes. Nevertheless, she kept her back straight and her head up as she walked away, crossing the open courtyard that surrounded the HQ — she couldn’t help but think it would offer clear fields of fire against any attackers — and approached the large but solitary gate that was the only way out past the wall. It rolled open for her on her approach, sensing the scroll in her jacket pocket. It moved with a slow, rumbling pace, the metal rollers grinding against the slide set in the concrete. 
Rainbow didn’t wait for it to get all the way; she walked through as soon as it had opened wide enough to accommodate her, and briskly crossed the open space cleared around the headquarters — now that she’d gotten the idea of a field of fire into her head, she couldn’t get rid of it — and into the streets of Mantle that lay all around. 
She walked on the edge of the road, for now staying under the lights that illuminated the streets; she was wearing Plain Awesome and Blunt Honesty on her hips, and although she wasn’t wearing her Wings of Harmony, she did have Unfailing Loyalty slung across her back. Nevertheless, where the streets were lit, she kept to the light. 
She wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt trying to mug her, after all. 
Sadly, in Mantle, that wasn’t an impossibility. This town, this city … well, it was a bit of a dump, to tell you the truth. It was like Low Town, and just like Low  Town, well … it was hard to say exactly who was worse off. The main thing was that there wasn’t much here. Mantle had been big when the dust mines beneath the city had yielded enough dust for all of Remnant, but the mines were tapped out, and those days gone long ago, while those big factories that dominated the skyline were mostly worked by robots now instead of people. The houses in Mantle were nicer than the ones in Low Town, or at least they were better built; Rainbow wasn’t sure you could call somewhere 'nice' when it looked as though it was being allowed to get absolutely filthy. 
Mind, she wasn’t sure what you could do to keep them clean, because it was a filthy town. Yes, you could wash the windows that were black with filth, but wouldn’t they just get filthy again afterwards? This whole city was awash with the dirt of its industries, blocking out the stars above and even making it hard to see the cruisers protecting the city skies. It was in the air all around, and once or twice, Rainbow Dash found herself coughing and spluttering and yearning for the clean air and clear skies of Atlas. 
Not every street had working lights; some of them were dark, and Rainbow kept her hands hovering near her SMGs as she walked down them with a brisk step. 
Through these dirty streets, the people of Mantle moved; it was past working hours, or at least it was past the point at which the day shift made way for the night crew — Rainbow wasn’t sure if Mantle ever really stopped working — but there were still people on the streets, clad in dull colours of grey and brown, their clothes and faces stained with dirt; they moved with shoulders slumped, their gait slow and shambling so that they seemed like zombies from a video game as much as men. Rackety vehicles rattled and rumbled down the roads, bumpers looking as though they might drop off at any moment, headlights broken, bodywork battered and stained with rust and much alike.
It wasn’t just the faunus in Low Town that were … not doing so great, but at least for the faunus, Rainbow could imagine what could be done to help them: get faunus into leadership positions, move them up to live in Atlas, give them the same breaks and opportunities that humans had. These people were humans — mostly; they had the breaks, they had the opportunities, the people in the rooms where it happened looked just like them, and yet, here they were, living like this.
It seemed a lot harder to fix, as well as making Rainbow wonder if fixing the issues of the faunus would be a lot harder than it seemed like it would be. 
There was a reason she didn’t want Blake to come down here, but maybe she’d see something Rainbow hadn’t thought of yet. 
Mind you, Rarity had gotten out. Rarity had been born in Mantle, not that you’d know it from her accent, and yet she’d gotten out and made it to Atlas and never looked back. 
In a way, she was just like Rainbow Dash, just without the extra ears. 
In a way, she was more successful because she’d done it without patronage. 
Still, she’d been lucky too, in her own way. 
Maybe Rainbow ought to pin her down one of these days and ask her how she managed it. Rarity didn’t like to talk about her humble origins, and Rainbow didn’t want to press her, but it might be worth it. 
Rainbow walked through the streets, passing late night diners and the one place that people actually looked happy to be coming in and out of: a movie theatre. Inviting lights and the smell of popcorn spilled out from within, and people were actually smiling as they walked towards it or came out at the end. Cute couples walked arm in arm, their coats and skirts and pants actually showing flashes of colour — and no dirt! Above the many doors with their semi-circular handles, a holographic screen displayed a trailer for a new … well, there was no sound, so Rainbow couldn’t exactly tell what it was, but it appeared to star Ruby Roundhouse and Red Reynolds — a golden retriever faunus actor who seemed to play exactly the same quippy, sarcastic guy in every movie he was in — doing a lot of running around with explosions happening. 
It might be worth seeing at some point. 
Not far from the movie theatre, positioned directly amidst the pool of light from one of the working streetlights so that you couldn’t miss it, there was a holographic wanted poster. A wanted poster with a reward, what was more: three million lien for the capture of Feathers Markinson. The holographic image displayed a chicken faunus, or a rooster faunus, given that he seemed to be a guy, with a bright red frill on top of an otherwise bald head, and a pair of beady black eyes that, when the hologram stopped rotating, seemed to be staring right at Rainbow Dash. 
He wasn’t someone that Rainbow had heard of before, and she found herself wondering idly what he’d done to get a bounty like that put on his head as she moved on down the street. 
Whoever he was, she was sure that some huntsman would bring him in; three million lien wasn’t something to be sneezed at. 
For herself, she hadn’t come here to hunt down criminals. And so she kept on walking, moving through the streets, past late-night diners and trashcans overflowing with rubbish, stepping around the discarded beer cans, the broken bottles or the half-eaten burgers and fries in their polystyrene boxes that lay on the pavement, walking past the people who ignored her as she passed by as she made her way towards her destination. 
Said destination was easily recognisable by the bright neon green cross over the door. Soft green light spilled out from the windows into the street beyond, despite the ornate metal bars placed in front of said windows to protect them. 
It was a free clinic, run by Doctor Polendina’s brother Pietro. He was said to be every bit as brilliant as his brother — and Rainbow found him to be a good deal nicer too — but after … well, Rainbow didn’t know the exact details of what had happened. She’d only met Pietro once, when Penny was very new — General Ironwood had introduced her and Ciel to the Polendina brothers quite early on — and she wasn’t privy to all the developments. All she knew was that Pietro had been banished from the project, and he had gone back here, to this clinic in Mantle where he did prosthetic work for those that needed it. 
Ciel thought he was wasting his talents; Rainbow thought it was as well somebody was, or a whole lot of people would be going around without limbs. 
As Rainbow crossed the street to reach the clinic, the door opened, and a young woman — a rabbit faunus, with a pair of ears sticking out of her hair — stepped out, moving her prosthetic arm in windmills. “Thanks, Doc!” she called out, before looking around to see Rainbow Dash approaching. 
The smile died from her face. She bowed her head as though Rainbow would take offence at her presence, and she began to walk with a quick stride — that was almost a run — away from Rainbow and the clinic. 
Rainbow watched her go for a moment, wondering what that was about. It was probably because she saw the weapons and realised that Rainbow was connected to Atlas. 
Atlas … was not very popular in Mantle. It was so unpopular that there was a criminal group running around dedicated to overthrowing it, and they were local heroes. 
Which I guess is a pretty good reason not to let people have guns.
Anyway, Rainbow dismissed the thought and focussed on the things that she was actually here for. She pushed open the door to the clinic and stepped inside. 
Inside was emptier than she’d expected, with a lot of open floor with nothing on it. There was a bed in one corner of the large room that confronted her, a desk on the other side of it, some technical instruments here and there, a bookshelf — filled with mostly books, but also a few curios and knickknacks — sitting against the back wall, but overall, there was just a lot of wooden floor, where the varnish looked as it was being worn away by repeated footfalls. 
Pietro Polendina was the younger brother — if only by a little bit — but he looked older, his hair having completely turned to white, and Rainbow knew that it was mostly gone too, although the brown cap he was wearing disguised his baldness, covering the top of his head and leaving only his crown of white hair visible. He was heavyset, with thick arms and a visible paunch, and he was sat upon a four-legged robotic chair that did all of his walking for him. He was dressed in a pale yellow shirt with a dark red waistcoat, brown pants the same shade as his hat, and a very large pink bow tie. The only time Rainbow had met him, he had seemed to be trying a bit too hard to hit the eccentric professor vibe … but maybe that was unfair. 
As she walked in, Pietro pushed the small, round spectacles that sat on his nose a little further up. “Rainbow Dash?” he asked, in a voice rendered a little hoarse by the years. 
Rainbow let the door swing shut behind her. “I’m impressed you remember, Doctor, considering you only met me once.”
“Maybe, but how could I forget Penny’s team leader — or that magnificent hair of yours?” Pietro asked. He chuckled. “You know, all Japeth could think about was whether or not you were going to be competent enough for your mission, but when you walked in with General Ironwood, the only thing I could think of was ‘darn, we should have given Penny rainbow hair.’”
Rainbow laughed. “That would be … something, sure,” she admitted. “But I think the hair you gave her suits Penny best.”
“She is a pretty girl, isn’t she?” Pietro asked. “How’s she doin’?”
“She … Penny … well, that’s what I’m here to talk to you about, Doctor, if that’s okay,” Rainbow said. “I know it’s sudden, me just dropping in like this, but—”
“Oh, no, it’s fine, it’s fine,” Pietro assured her. “What am I going to do, tell you to get lost and lose my only chance to hear about my daughter?”
“Your daughter?” Rainbow repeated. “I thought … we think … I thought you were her uncle.”
“'Uncle,'” Pietro said scornfully. “I suppose I should be thanking Japeth for giving me that much credit. But I put as much work into Penny as he did, so why shouldn’t I be her father as much as he is? Especially when I … never mind. Why don’t you come with me into the kitchen, and we can sit down and have a talk?”
“Are you sure?” Rainbow asked. “I mean, what if someone comes in?”
“Then I’ll take care of it,” Pietro said. “I’m sure I’ll be able to hear them hollering. Come on. I want to hear everything.”
No, I’m not sure you do, Rainbow thought, but Pietro had already turned away and began to walk on his four robotic legs in the direction of a door leading into the back of the building. 
The front door opened behind Rainbow Dash, who turned to see a penguin faunus with bare, unshod penguin feet and legs emerging out of the bottom of his trousers. He was a short man, but broad-shouldered, wearing a black suit with a white shirt and no tie. He was bald, with beady black eyes that stared at Rainbow Dash as he came to an abrupt halt halfway through the door. 
He blinked said beady eyes rapidly as his gaze fell to the guns Rainbow was wearing on her waist. 
The guns for which Rainbow felt an instinctual desire to reach. 
The penguin faunus tensed.
Rainbow’s hands clenched into fists on instinct.
“Oh!” Pietro cried. “Welcome back! This is Rainbow Dash; she’s a friend of my daughter from Atlas. She came by to tell me all about how she’s doing. Rainbow, this is my lodger; I didn’t catch his name. Poor fellow doesn’t speak a word.”
The lodger seemed to visibly relax as he smiled at Rainbow and nodded eagerly. He pointed upwards and began to walk across the floor towards the staircase leading up to the second floor. His penguin feet made a very distinctive flip flop sound as he moved. 
“You’ll be down for dinner later?” Pietro asked.
The lodger nodded twice, that smile still on his face, then began to pad up the stairs. Halfway up, he turned and stared at Rainbow Dash for a second, then turned back and disappeared out of sight. 
“Running a free clinic doesn’t exactly make money,” Pietro explained. “I had to let the spare room out in order to help keep the lights on. He’s not much of a talker, true, but for a paying guest, he’s very obliging. Even makes me breakfast in the morning before he heads out to do … whatever it is he does.”
The sound of heavy guitar riffs and loud singing began to echo down from upstairs. 


	This will be the day we’ve waited for!


	This will be the day we open up the door!


“He does like his music, though,” Pietro said. 
“Mm, I’m more of a soft pop girl myself,” Rainbow muttered.
“Well, anyway,” Pietro said. “Come along on through.”
Pietro resumed his journey into the back, and Rainbow followed him into a kitchen with white tiles on the floor and walls, and a white island in the middle of the room while black cupboards at a height convenient for Pietro in his chair lined the walls on either side. 
“Sit down,” he urged, gesturing with one hand to the island and the stools that surrounded it. He himself opened up one of the black cupboards and began to rummage around in it. “Now, where did I … where is that … no, it’s not there, maybe it’s in the next one.”
“You need any help?”
“No, no,” Pietro assured her. “Besides, if I can’t find anything in this place, I don’t know how you’d be expected to after just walking in here. Ah! Here it is.” He pulled a little metal coffee pot out of the cupboard, dislodging in the process a whisk and a sieve that clattered to the floor. 
“I’ll get them,” Rainbow said, getting up and bending down to put the discarded objects away. In that way, with Rainbow clearing up after Pietro as he got things out of the cupboards with a complete lack of concern for what else came tumbling out along the way, they got to the point where Pietro had made two cups of coffee and placed them on the island between himself and Rainbow Dash. 
“Thanks, Doctor,” Rainbow said. 
“Oh, you can drop all that ‘doctor’ stuff,” Pietro said. “This isn’t Atlas, and you’re not my patient. Pietro will be fine. After all, you’re one of Penny’s friends.”
Rainbow made an uncomfortable noise from the back of her throat. “Well … you know what, you want to see Penny’s friends, look at this.” 
She pulled her scroll out of her jacket, opened up the photo album, and flicked through it until she found a picture from the day that they’d all come to Beacon, specifically, a photo from the arcade where Ruby and Pyrrha had taken Penny after they’d met. The picture showed the three of them stood in front of a video game, with Penny beaming as she had her arms wrapped around their waists. Ruby was beaming too, while Pyrrha’s smile was softer but no less fond. 
“The little girl on the right is Ruby Rose,” Rainbow said. “The tall redhead on the left is Pyrrha Nikos.”
“Pyrrha Nikos,” Pietro murmured. “I recognise that girl.”
“The Asclepius Institute?” Rainbow guessed. She didn’t remember meeting Pietro there, but as a brilliant scientist with an expertise in prosthetics and an interest in helping people, it wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that he would have been involved.
“That’s right, yes!” Pietro cried. “The Mistralian girl, famous fighter, came over to help raise money. I didn’t know she’d stuck around in Atlas after.”
“She didn’t,” Rainbow said. “Ruby and Pyrrha are Beacon students, and they met Penny in Vale. We’ve been at Beacon for most of the last year.”
“'At Beacon'?” Pietro repeated. “Well, I guess it is the Vytal Festival in Vale this year—”
“We were there a little earlier than the rest of the Atlas students,” Rainbow said. “Penny … ran away.”
“'Ran away'?” Pietro repeated.
Rainbow nodded. “To Vale. We tracked her down there, but she didn’t want to come back to Atlas, so we persuaded General Ironwood to let us stick around at Beacon, and that’s where we’ve been for pretty much the entire of the last two semesters.”
Pietro stared at her for a moment. Then he let out a great guffaw from out of his belly. “Did you now? I bet Japeth was thrilled to hear about that!”
“I … don’t know,” Rainbow said. “We didn’t talk to him.”
“Oh, I can guess exactly how he reacted, and if I’m right, then it wasn’t pretty,” Pietro said. He lifted up his coffee cup, blew on the steaming liquid within, and took a sip. “But Penny made friends while she was there at Beacon? This Ruby and Pyrrha?”
Rainbow nodded.
“And what about you?” Pietro asked. “And Twilight and Ciel?”
“We…” Rainbow hesitated. “Some of us have tried harder than others,” she admitted. “I was … preoccupied. That’s not an excuse, but it is an explanation. There was … I met…” She closed her eyes, and bought herself a little time by drinking some of her own coffee in turn. “There was a girl at Beacon who interested me more than Penny did, and I thought … I got caught up in helping her, and I guess I kind of forgot what I was supposed to be doing. Ciel tried harder, a lot harder; she really cares about Penny, but the problem is that Penny—”
“Sees her as someone that Japeth and Ironwood put in charge of her,” Pietro finished.
Rainbow was sitting hunched down, very low to the island; as a result, she was able to look up and into Pietro’s eyes despite her height. “How did you guess?”
“You told me when you told me that Penny ran away,” Pietro said. “She wouldn’t have done it unless—”
“She was unhappy?”
“She wanted to be free,” Pietro murmured. He sighed. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. I told Japeth, I told him, you can’t bring a life into the world, then dictate how it lives! It isn’t right!”
“Then why did you do it?” Rainbow asked. “I mean, I know why Doctor Polendina did it — he wanted to secure his legacy and create something the likes of which no one had ever created before — but you? Why did you help him, if you thought that way?”
Pietro was silent for a moment. “It was an idea that we’d had for some time,” he admitted. “It wasn’t even our idea, really; the concept of a robot that could love, dream, feel, that’s been around as long as robots itself. Ever since we were studying robotics, we used to talk about how it might be possible. Eventually, we realised that the only way that it could ever happen was to give this hypothetical robot a soul.
“Neither of us have any flesh and blood children. We’ve got no family at all, except for each other; we had a sister, but she died a long time ago, and she never left any relatives either. I suppose the idea of having a child … it appealed to us, though not for the same reasons.” He chuckled. “Someone to call me Dad and run around the place, making a mess — making more of a mess than I make for myself. It was Japeth who decided to go to the military for funding to make it happen. We’d worked for them before on various projects — nearly every big research project is sponsored by the military one way or another — but this felt … different than building a bigger gun or a smart weapons platform. Japeth told me not to worry about it, we were fleecing Ironwood and the Council, we were going to take their money and make our dreams come true. But, as time went by, and we started working on an in-built weapon system … that got harder to believe. Perhaps I should have quit then, but the truth is … I wanted to see Penny open her eyes. I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to know her, and I wanted her to know me.”
“But eventually, you couldn’t swallow it any more?” Rainbow asked quietly.
Pietro shook his head. “I couldn’t … we’d created a baby girl, and Japeth was willing to just stand aside while Ironwood took her away from us and sent her off to war. How was I supposed to just stay quiet about that? I couldn’t! I told him that it wasn’t right, what we’d done, what he was planning to do, I told him that it needed to be stopped. And he rewarded me by kicking me off the project and banning me from my own daughter’s life! Calling me her uncle!” he harrumphed indignantly. “Tell me something, Rainbow Dash: do you care about Penny?”
Rainbow nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I care about her. A little late, maybe, but I care about her. I want her to be happy.”
“And she isn’t happy now, is she?”
Rainbow straightened up. “She wants to stay at Beacon, when the Vytal Festival is over. She doesn’t want to go back to Atlas, she doesn’t want to stay here, she doesn’t want to wear the whites. I’ve promised to help make that happen.”
“Then you’d better keep that promise,” Pietro declared. “Not for my sake, or yours, but for hers. Freedom … should be the right of all sentient beings, and Penny shouldn’t be excluded from that just because she has nuts and bolts instead of guts.”
Rainbow pushed the stool back. It scraped loudly on the floor as she got up. “I … I’m not sure how much the word of an Atlas student counts with you, after everything that’s happened, but for what it’s worth, I give you mine.”
Pietro stared into Rainbow’s eyes. “Well, okay then,” he said. “I guess that’s good enough for me.”
“Thank you,” Rainbow murmured. “Doc— Pietro, do you … about your brother, about Doctor Polendina, do you… do you know—?”
“That he’s dying?” Pietro asked. “Yes, I know. He got the initial diagnosis before we had our … falling out. How is he?”
“Taking medication,” Rainbow said. “Sometimes. Other times he’s … why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“We haven’t spoken since we had our argument; why would he want to talk to me?” Pietro asked.
“Because he’s dying?” Rainbow asked.
“He was dying when he threw me out,” Pietro pointed out.
“Yeah, but … I think he’s getting worse,” Rainbow said. “I don’t know, I’m not a doctor, and I don’t really know how to … anyway, that’s not the real point, the real point is that I think you should talk to Penny about it.”
Pietro’s expression softened. “Does she know?”
Rainbow nodded. “Yes, she does.”
“Oh, gods,” Pietro murmured. “And how’s she taking it?”
Rainbow spread her hands. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know because she hasn’t talked to me about it. Not to me or Ciel or Twilight or Ruby or Pyrrha or Sunset—”
“Who?”
“Sunset Shimmer, leader of Team Sapphire; I’ll tell you all the fun stuff in a little bit,” Rainbow promised. “But first … I don’t know how Penny is dealing with the fact that her father is dying, and I think that … I was hoping that you would talk to her about it, because I think that she should probably talk to someone, and I’m guessing that you’d like to talk to her, and because … bluntly, your brother is dying as well, so you can probably relate.”
“That was pretty blunt,” Pietro agreed. “But I can’t say I don’t understand what you’re talking about. And I would love to speak to Penny, although I wish it was under happier circumstances. Japeth didn’t exactly give me her number—”
Rainbow held up her scroll. “I’ve got it right here.”
Pietro smiled. “Thank you kindly,” he said. “Now, why don’t you tell me about some of this ‘fun stuff’?”



Ciel’s cloak swirled around her as she walked through the streets of Mantle towards home. Said streets were dark, the lights were broken; for that reason amongst others, she kept her purse open so that she could grab her pistol should she have need of it. 
Mantle … Mantle was her home, and yet, it was not. It was where her parents had been born, both of them, but Ciel had lived in other places besides, and places which she had, in all honesty, preferred: the base in Vacuo, for one. Yes, it had been hot and sandy, but there had been plenty of open space and less … less vice, for one thing. 
Still, Mantle was not without its pleasures: church, Neon, family — although the last one would have held true anywhere. But duty did not care for personal preferences, and it had brought father, and father had brought the family with him. Mantle was her home in the sense at least that it was where Ciel and her family had lived for several years, although most of those years, she had been either at combat school or at Atlas. 
And she was a Mantle girl, born to Mantle parents, resident in Mantle, with no claim upon the city — rather than the kingdom — of Atlas. She was a flower of the north, but a flower nurtured in all respects in Mantle soil. 
And yet, she did not like her home. 
If she had not chosen to go to Atlas Academy, if she had not chosen to become a Specialist, if she had done as she told Penny she perhaps should have done and gotten a job to help support her family, then she would not have remained in Mantle; rather, she would have gone to Atlas, like Rainbow’s friend Rarity. She would have gotten away from all of this, all of the dirt and the misery and the hopelessness and the…
Ciel stopped as she rounded a corner and was confronted with a sight that she scarcely knew how to describe. 
In the middle of the street, there sat a bar; although the street lights were working here — Ciel almost rather they were not — the lights that were supposed to illuminate the name of the establishment were not, and although the doors were open and lights were spilling out into the street, they did not do so at the right angle to light up the sign over the door. 
In any case, Ciel was more concerned with all the bodies lying in the road. They were not dead; they were moving and twitching and groaning. Not dead, no, but dead drunk for sure; they sat slumped over the outside tables, some of them, but most of them simply lay in the road, where they would have blocked the traffic if there had been any traffic to speak of, or else lying on top of the cars parked along the side of the pavement. Some of them still had the bottles in their hands or lying nearby. 
It was like the aftermath of a battle, but the only battle lost here had been the battle these people had lost against their own self-control. 
“Oompah-pah, oompah-pah, everyone knows,” one drunken man sang softly, his slurred voice cutting through the otherwise quiet night air. 
He was interrupted by the sound of a baby crying. 
Ciel stopped, her eyes sweeping over the scene of ruin, passing over the drunken men and women, those passed out, those awake but in a stupor, the dogs that sat beside them or walked between them or urinated on them. She passed over all of them, searching for— there! A woman sat with her back to a battered vehicle, a vacant look and a silly grin upon her face, and in her lap, a baby sat, squalling and shivering. 
The child was unwrapped, exposed to the cold — yes, Mantle had a heating grid, but there was a bit of a chill in the air — waving its hands and feet in the air, trying fruitlessly to attract the attention of its mother. 
Ciel froze. She was not sure of what to do. Humanity dictated that she help the child, but where could she take it? Not to her home; to the church maybe? To the police station? But then, how would their mother get them back again? Did they deserve to have their child back?
Was it her place to decide that?
Perhaps not, but she could not pass by and simply leave the poor thing. Ciel took a step forward. 
At that moment, however, a woman emerged from out of the bar, wearing a lavender headscarf and carrying a brown shawl, fringed with white lace, in her arms. She walked quickly towards the mother and baby, skipping lightly around the other drunks as she did so, and scooped the screaming child up in her arms, wrapping it up in her shawl. 
She noticed Ciel looking at her and smiled, “She’s always bringing her baby with her and then getting like this. Poor thing, I don’t think that she’s got anywhere she can leave him. Never mind, I’ll look after him until she comes round. Won’t I darling, eh? You and me? Coochie-coo!” she waggled her fingers in the baby’s face.
“Perhaps you should think about not serving her quite so much alcohol,” Ciel said coldly.
The woman sniffed. “It’s a free kingdom!” she declared. “So long as she has the lien to pay for what she orders, why should I care?” She turned and stalked off, back into the bar, taking the baby with her. 
Ciel was left standing outside, looking at all these people scattered around her like the last survivor of a great disaster, left to observe the detritus and weep. 
She did not weep, although a part of her felt like it, though whether she would have been weeping for the baby, for these people, or for herself, she could not have said.
She hated this city. She hated this place that was her home, and out of which she sprang. She hated it. She hated how wretched it was, how downtrodden and pushed down it was, how dirty and decaying it was, she hated how degenerate and sinful it was, she hated so much about it, and yet, she struggled to think of a single thing she loved that could not be transplanted elsewhere. Even her church could be found in Atlas. 
Yes, Atlas is where she would have made her home even had she not gone to Atlas  Academy. Atlas was where she would make her home in between missions and assignments. Atlas was the north’s future. Mantle was … an embarrassment. A dying relic, and the swifter it finally gave up the ghost, the better. 
And yet, at the same time, the state of Mantle gave her pause, for … how had it been allowed to get like this? How had the greatest kingdom in Remnant allowed its second city to fall so far?
Why had nothing been done? Why was nothing being done? Why were people being allowed to languish in such a state?
What could be done? Ciel did not know; she did not have the vision of a Blake Belladonna or the optimism of a Rainbow Dash. 
All things would be as God and the Lady disposed. But she sometimes wished they would hurry up and dispose of Mantle. 
No, that was … that was wrong. It was not for her to think such things. All men were beloved of God, and the Lady watched over all the children of the north, no matter how far they strayed from her teachings and how much Ciel disliked them. 
She had better get away from here; the sight of sin was breeding sin in her. 
Ciel silently begged forgiveness as she walked on, leaving this beer alley behind and proceeding down streets lined on either side with terraced houses; despite the fact that this was a residential area, the roads were quiet; she did not encounter another living soul down any one of them; everyone was either inside or elsewhere in the city. She didn’t meet anyone else as she made her way to her own family home, which sat at the very end of the terrace. 
Ciel wasn’t home often enough to have a key of her own, and so she knocked on the blue front door of the narrow house. 
She heard a muffled sound from inside. There was a pause, in which Ciel waited on the doorstep, still and silent, her breath lightly misting up in front of her.
Then the door opened, and a column of warm golden light spilled out into the dark street beyond, light interrupted only by the form of Ciel’s eldest brother — though still younger than her, as all her brothers were — Florentin. Despite being four years younger than she was, he was already an inch taller than her — and he looked taller still, since Ciel was stood below him on the doorstep — and broader in the shoulders, while the peach fuzz on his cheeks spoke loud and clear of the onset of puberty. Otherwise, they looked much alike, with the same blue eyes set in faces of the same complexion, and the same soft black hair, although Florentine wore his long in a ponytail falling down his neck and back. 
Ciel smiled with her mouth closed. “Good evening, Florentin.”
Florentin smiled with his teeth, his eyes brightening as he said, “'Good evening, Florentin'? Your first time back home in eight months, and you stand there and say ‘good evening, Florentin’? What are you like, honestly, come here!” He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, pulling her into a bearhug that left her legs dangling off the ground.
“Florentin,” Ciel said, squirming a little in his embrace, “this is—”
“This is how you say welcome home, big sister,” Florentin said with a laugh, before he put her down on the floor inside the house and shut the door behind her. “Hey, everyone!” he shouted down the hallway. “Ciel is home!”
The hallway had one door to the left which led into the living room, one door further on straight ahead which led into the kitchen, and the staircase to the right. Both the doors now opened, and Tyson, Aurelien, Maurice, and Gauthier poured out from both the rooms; Aurelien, Maurice, and Gauthier all ran towards her, while Tyson, only a year younger than Florentin for all that the age gap looked much more than that, kept to a brisk walk behind them. 
“Ciel!”
“How long are you back for?”
“How was Vale?”
“Did you fight in the battle? Was it glorious?”
“Is there still going to be a Vytal Festival?”
“Yes, there will be a Vytal Festival,” Ciel said. “I do not know how long I will be back, and I fought in several battles, but the glory gained must be said to have varied considerably. And it is very nice to see all of you.”
“Wait for me!” Alain called as he hobbled out of the kitchen, some distance behind his brothers. His wooden crutch thumped upon the hallway floor as he tried to catch up. He was her youngest brother at just five years old, but from looks alone, he seemed, if anything, as though he might be younger still, so small was he. His cheeks were soft, and his blue eyes gleamed as bright as stars within his face. As he walked forward, limping and leaning on his crutch, his breathing became more ragged and uneven. “Ciel,” he gasped. “Ciel, you … you came…” he began to splutter, and then to cough with increasing violence until he seemed as though he might double over from it. 
Maurice and Aurelien made way as Ciel strode forward, reaching him where he could no longer come to her. 
“Oh, you’ve got yourself too excited,” Ciel murmured as she knelt down in front of him. She reached out and cupped his cheeks with both hands. “There’s no need to get worked up on my account, no need at all. Now let’s get you sat down in your chair.” She stood up, and picked him up, and sat him down upon her shoulder; he weighed less than a fully-laden bag of books for all that Ciel could feel the metal brace beneath his clothes, and he barely came any higher than her head. Nevertheless, Ciel ducked down a little, bending her knees as she carried him into the kitchen. 
She found Mother there, stood in front of the stove; the matriarch of the Soleil family was a woman whom years and seven children had bestowed a matronly figure upon, her dark hair worn in dreadlocks cut above the shoulders. She was just tasting something from out of a pot cooking on the oven when Ciel came in. She looked up, looked at Ciel, and nodded without saying a word. 
Ciel nodded back, also without a word, and carried Alain into the dining room and sat him down upon his chair, which was elevated to enable him to reach the dining table. 
His breathing seemed improved already, for all that he was still taking great gulps of air; nevertheless, he managed to say, “I missed you.”
Ciel smiled. “I missed you too, ma cher,” she said, and kissed him on the forehead. “But I just need to go and speak to Mother for a minute.”
She left him sat there, alone for now — but hopefully, his brothers would keep him company — as she returned to the kitchen. 
“Mother,” she said, curtsying.
Her mother did not look at her. “How’s school?”
I’m about to torpedo my career for Penny’s sake. “I continue to score well,” Ciel said.
“I heard all about the battle in Vale, the Breach they’re calling it, right?”
Ciel nodded. “Indeed.”
“Were you there?”
“No,” Ciel admitted. “But I was involved in the actions surrounding it.”
Mother looked at her. “Can you talk about it?”
“No,” Ciel replied. “It is all classified.”
“But you did not disgrace yourself?”
“No,” Ciel agreed. Although I do not have the right to say that I distinguished myself, either.
“Good,” Mother said, and she turned to Ciel to plant a kiss upon each of her cheeks. “Welcome home.”
Ciel smiled. “Thank you, Mother. Where is Father?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“Out,” Mother repeated. “I know no more than that, save that he will be back in time for dinner, which is not for nearly an hour yet at least, so you’ll have plenty of time to tell all your stories to the boys.”
“I am no great teller of stories,” Ciel murmured.
“Try anyway,” Mother told her. “They want to hear about your adventures, Aurelien and Alain especially.”
Ciel frowned. “How is Alain?”
Mother sighed, and looked down at the floor as her hands began to play with her apron. Her voice was very quiet. “The doctor says … there is not long left.”
“Lady let it not be so,” Ciel murmured. “Is there nothing that can be done?”
“Nothing that we can afford,” Mother replied.
Ciel hesitated for a moment. She began to unfasten her cloak. “I … I have a teammate, Twilight Sparkle; her family is not ill-endowed, and her sister-in-law is on the Council; perhaps I could ask her to lend me the money—”
“'Lend'?” Mother asked. “And how will you repay it?”
“Give, then,” Ciel said. “Please do not tell me that you would put your pride over Alain’s life.”
“We are talking about millions of lien,” Mother said. “Nearly three million for the treatments required. Does your teammate have that kind of money to give away?”
Ciel closed her eyes. “No,” she admitted. “No, I do not believe she does. And there is nothing else?”
“Nothing but prayer,” Mother said, “and faith.”
“Prayer and faith, aye,” Ciel murmured. She had been praying to the lady for Alain ever since he was diagnosed. Her prayers had not been answered yet. 
But the Lady moved in her own ways, however mysterious they might seem to outsiders; who was to say that a miracle would not yet come? 
And yet it had not come yet, and it seemed that there was little time left. 
Yet what could they do but pray on, and hope with what little hope remained?
“Can you do something for me?” Mother said. She turned across the kitchen and picked up a vacuum flask that had been sitting opposite the oven. “Will you take this to Mrs. Peterson’s apartment? Poor dear, she’s been unwell the last few days; can’t go shopping or even move around her own home much. I’ve been making her soup and broth. Take it to her, pour it into a bowl, maybe heat it up in the microwave, but you don’t need to stay and watch her eat it.”
“I can do that,” Ciel agreed. “But I thought you wanted me to tell stories to the boys.”
Mother smiled. “This won’t take you very long. You still remember where her apartment is?”
“Unless she’s moved, then yes,” Ciel said. Mrs. Peterson was a member of their church; her husband had died of cancer a few years ago, and her son had become a soldier and unfortunately died in the field; she was all alone now, save for her fellow congregants, who took care of her. 
“Thank you,” Mother said. “I would ask Florentin, but he got into a fight recently, and I’m not sure I should let him out of the house.”
“'A fight'?” Ciel asked. “What kind of fight?”
“I’ll tell you when you get back,” Mother said. “Or he can. But you should hurry; even in that flask, that stew won’t stay warm forever.”
“Right,” Ciel murmured as she put her cloak back on and took the flask from her mother’s hands. She stuck her head around the door. “I’m just going out on an errand; I’ll be back soon,” she promised.
“I’ll be waiting,” Alain said.
“We’ll all be waiting,” Aurelien added.
“What kind of errand?” Florentin asked.
“Mrs. Peterson’s dinner,” Ciel replied.
“I could do that,” Florentin said. “Give it to me, and you can—”
“Mother asked me to do this,” Ciel said.
Florentin’s eyes darkened. “Oh. Well then you’d better go on and do it then, hadn’t you?”
Ciel did not respond to that except to say, “I will be back soon.” 
And then she turned away, her cloak swirling around her, and walked out of the kitchen and down the hall — her footsteps tapped upon the wood beneath her — and out of the door and back into the cold night air of Mantle. 
She stood outside for a moment, in the dark, her breath misting up behind her. 
Lady of the North, look down upon my brother Alain with mercy. Grant him his health once more, I beg of you. Let him live. Let him live, and grow, and love, and have children who will call me Aunt Ciel and mock me for my eccentricities. 
Or kill me. You may withdraw your protection from me in the field, you may strike me down, you may render me as barren as a leafless tree, but please, I beg you, let him live. 
If my words have ever moved you at all, if my service has ever touched your heart, then please, hear my prayer now if never before or never since.
From Heaven, there came no response. No word, no sound, nothing but silence. 
Ciel was reminded uncomfortably of Salem’s words underneath Mountain Glenn; what if the reason the Lady was refusing to answer their prayers for Alain was because the Lady was no more, because she had never been anything more than a woman dead long ago, dead at the hands of one of Salem’s agents?
What if she could not help Alain and never could have?
Ciel shook her head. No, no she could not believe that; she could not allow herself to believe that, words without thoughts never to Heaven went, and no prayers would be answered for one whose faith was not as certain as a rock. 
Which meant that hers were doomed to go unanswered. For now, and perhaps forever. For the seed of doubt that Salem had planted in her mind had not yet perished. 
Ciel shook her head. She wiped at her face with one hand. Foolishness, to stand here like this and dwell on what she could not change. She had best get this errand run; delivering a hot meal to Mrs. Peterson was something which she could do, at least. 
She walked through the streets, heading towards Mrs. Peterson’s apartment block — she was even less fortunate than Ciel’s family and lived in a flat instead of a terrace — through streets which were, unfortunately, more often unlit than had any working streetlights. Maintenance here was not done often enough, and most often amounted to sticking plasters than to the necessary repairs. 
One street, about halfway between her home and her destination, had only a single working streetlight, a single pool of light in a road otherwise succumbed to darkness. It was from out of that darkness that, as Ciel walked down the pavement, a voice spoke. 
“You know, it’s kind of dangerous for a good girl like you to be wandering around a rough neighbourhood like this at this time of night.” Neon Katt stepped into the spotlight, dressed in a bright blue parka with a fur trimmed hood, and vibrant pink pants. Her roller skates were not in evidence, although she was still wearing her crash-pads on her arms and legs. She grinned. “Good thing I was passing, huh?”
“How did you know I’d be here?” Ciel asked.
Neon shrugged. “Your mother has been sending meals to Mrs. Peterson, bless her, and I thought that she’d send you once you came back, especially after Florentin got into that bit of trouble.”
“Do you know what that was about?” asked Ciel, as she began to walk towards Neon.
“Yes,” Neon admitted. “But I’ll let him tell you.”
“Or you could tell me,” Ciel suggested.
“I could, but I won’t,” Neon replied. “Just take it from me: give the kid some credit when you find out the truth; he was trying to do the right thing.”
“He is hardly a kid,” Ciel said. “He is almost a man.”
“He’s fourteen; give him a break.”
“There is a student at Beacon who is fifteen and risking her life to defend the realms of men,” Ciel pointed out.
Neon chuckled. 
“What?” Ciel demanded.
“Nothing; I’ll just let him tell you,” Neon said. “So, do you want some company or not?”
Ciel hesitated. Then she sighed, and as she sighed, her whole body sagged forward. “I would welcome it,” she admitted. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Neon said, taking Ciel’s arm as they began to walk together, side by side. “Plus, I might try and slide in to your place on the way back and see if I can get an invite to dinner.”
Ciel snorted. “I’m sure that Mother would be happy to have you.” She paused. “No rollerstakes?”
“On these road surfaces, are you kidding?” Neon said. “I’d spend more time falling over than getting any place.” She took pause in turn. “How’s Alain?”
Ciel hesitated for a moment. “Not good, I’m told,” she murmured.
Neon winced. “Is there anything that I can—?”
“Not unless you have millions of lien spare,” Ciel muttered.
Neon placed her other hand on Ciel’s shoulder. “And how are you doing?”
Ciel swallowed. “I … I am … my brother is dying; Penny wants to leave, and the only way that I can show her how much I care about her is to let her go; and I hate this city. That is how I’m doing, Neon.”
Neon looked at her in silence. Then she pulled Ciel into a hug, not tight like Florentin’s or Penny’s embraces, a gentle clasp that Ciel could have left at any time. 
Save that she did not want to. 
“I wish that there was something I could do to help you,” Neon murmured as she put one hand on the back of Ciel’s head.
“I know,” Ciel whispered.
“And if there is anything that I can do,” Neon said. “Just let me know.” 
Ciel closed her eyes for a moment. “You’re already doing it.”
She would have liked to have stayed that way for quite some time: warm, held, accepted, tickled by one of Neon’s twintails brushing against the tip of her nose. 
But the stew would be getting cold in the flask, and so, Ciel stepped away, and the two of them resumed their journey. 
“I get what’s happening with Alain,” Neon said. “And I’m sorry about Penny, even though I also think that you shouldn’t blame yourself—”
“No?”
“It’s not your fault if people don’t get you,” Neon insisted. “And you shouldn’t have to spend your whole life running after the approval of people who don’t get you. If Penny doesn’t appreciate you for what you are and how great you are, then that’s her problem, not yours.”
“Even if I desire her … appreciation?” Ciel asked.
“Why would you, at that price?”
“It isn’t like that.”
“It sounds like that.”
“But it isn’t,” Ciel insisted. “Penny is … it’s wrong to hold her to the same standards as you or I; she is… I can’t explain it to you, I’m sorry.”
Neon shrugged. “You feel how you feel, I guess. But what’s up with Mantle?”
“What isn’t up with Mantle?” Ciel muttered. “I came across a beer alley on my way home. All of these people passed out or comatose outside the bar, insensibly drunk. One woman had a baby with her, who might have frozen outside if the landlord or the landlord’s wife hadn’t gotten them inside until the mother came round. Even then, she didn’t seem to realise that she had done anything wrong in plying these people so with drink. It is … disgusting.”
“It sounds like it,” Neon agreed. “But … maybe you should ask why they were drinking so much in the first place?”
Ciel glanced at her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, this place sucks; what else is there to do except get drunk?” Neon demanded. “By the time working hours are over, it’s only bars and the movies that are still open, and a movie ticket costs a day’s wages these days. So people drink, and sometimes, they drink too much, but maybe instead of blaming them, maybe blame the fact that they’ve got nothing else to do. Or the fact that their lives are so awful that they want to black them out.”
“What about personal responsibility?” Ciel asked. “What about the responsibility a mother owes her child?”
“It’s not good,” Neon replied. “But it’s not entirely their fault.”
“No, you say it is the city’s fault,” Ciel said. “That does not make Mantle any less hateful.”
Neon chuckled. “No, I guess it doesn’t, does it? What a town, huh?”
Ciel sighed. “Indeed.” She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry, I have been terribly rude and self-absorbed; how are you, Neon?”
“No, you haven’t,” Neon assured her. “And I’m, well, you know me. My mom has a new job, though.”
“Really?” Ciel asked. “Where?”
“You know that hotel they’ve been building over some of the old mining tunnels for the last five years?”
“The hotel that nobody asked for,” Ciel murmured.
“I get why people are upset about it, but isn’t it about time something new went up in this city?” Neon asked. “I mean, people are saying that if Mantle gets redeveloped, they won’t be able to afford to live here any more, but who would want to move here from Atlas or Crystal City? Plus, it provides jobs to people like my mom. She’s the new general manager."
“Good for her, and I mean that sincerely,” Ciel declared. “Is she very pleased with herself?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“Good,” Ciel said. “She deserves to be proud. It is good to know that someone in Mantle is prospering, at least.”
They walked on a little way, in comfortable silence, before Neon said, “Hey, while you’re still back home, do you want to go to the museum with me? They’ve got some of the Mistralian crown jewels on exhibit.”
Ciel looked at her. “The Mistralian crown jewels? Here, in Mantle?”
Neon nodded. “Apparently, they were lent to us, and they’ve been on tour of Solitas. They’ve been to Canterlot, Crystal City, Atlas, and now they’re at the Mantle Museum of Antiquities before they go back to Mistral. Also, they’ve got some of the dresses worn by the last empress … I can’t remember her name, and by that princess who got torn apart by the mob after they lost the war.”
“The Empress’ name was Alexandra,” Ciel said. “And the princess was named Juturna. It is said that she foolishly ventured out into the streets, where the sight of her in her beauty and all her finery enraged all those whose kin would never return from the battlefield beyond restraint.” She paused. “Jewels and dresses?”
“Yeah.”
Ciel’s eyebrows rose. “Since when do you have any interest in jewels or dresses?”
“I like shiny things,” Neon protested.
Ciel smiled softly. “Thank you,” she said. “I should be glad of the distraction. And of the company.”
They made their way to Mrs. Peterson’s apartment block, a grey and concrete structure that looked miserable in the daylight and positively sinister in the darkness. There was a pool of something that Ciel very much hoped was water lying at the foot of the staircase that climbed up the building to the eighth floor on which Mrs. Peterson’s apartment was located. 
The lights were all broken in the staircase, and Ciel found herself being guided by Neon’s feline eyes, who told her ‘step right; there’s some vomit on the left’ or ‘skip that step; it has dog muck on it’. 
Ciel was a student of Atlas Academy, she had been chosen by General Ironwood himself for special missions, and yet, as she climbed that dark staircase, she found herself glad that Neon was with her, and not just because she could tell her to avoid the vomit and the dog muck. In the darkness, the growl of a bull terrier could sound like a beowolf, and the shape of a drunk or a homeless man sleeping not far from the stairs could seem like something far more sinister. Her ears listened intently for the sounds of any footsteps beside their own; was there someone coming up the stairs behind them, coming to meet them? Was that shape she saw an approaching menace? Mantle was an Atlesian city, it was protected by three layers of walls and a vast panoply of defensive weapons, and yet, she scarcely felt any safer here than she had underneath Mountain Glenn. 
Surely, that could not be right, and if she felt that way, then how did those who had no aura feel?
I hate this city.
They reached the eighth floor, where there were at least some working lights as they turned off the stairs and walked along the exposed walkway that led to the apartments. They walked past silent doors, the paint peeling off, the numbers gone — fallen off or stolen — walls and doors covered with graffiti, until they came to Mrs. Peterson’s apartment. The door was white, and the paint looked fresher than some of the other doors; that was because Florentin had repainted it after someone had spray-painted a very rude word on it last year. 
There was a welcome mat in front of the door, and that, at least, had not been taken. 
Ciel knocked on the door. “Mrs. Peterson?”
There was no answer. 
Ciel knocked again. “Mrs. Peterson, it’s Ciel Soleil, Helda’s daughter. I haven’t been to church in a while, I’ve been at school, but I hope you remember me. My mother sent me here with your dinner.” She knocked again. “Mrs. Peterson?”
“She is sick,” Neon said. “Maybe she can’t come to the door.”
“Then what are we to do?” Ciel asked.
Neon knelt down, and lifted up the welcome mat to reveal a key lying beneath. “Eh voila!”
“Bold of her to leave a key under the mat in a place like this,” Ciel muttered.
“Old folks remember when people used to be nice to one another,” Neon replied, as she unlocked the door with the spare key. “After you,” she said, pushing it open.
The apartment on the other side of the door was dark and quiet. Ciel stepped inside, fumbling for the light switch with her free hand. She found it, after some scraping her fingers against the wall, and the lights came on. Everything seemed to be in order, although it was still very quiet. 
“Mrs. Peterson?” Ciel called out. 
There was no answer. There was no sound at all. 
Ciel had been here before — this wasn’t the first time that Mrs. Peterson had been in need of some assistance from the members of her church — and so she knew the way, not that there was much of a way to know; these apartments were rather small, and there were not many doors to choose from. Nevertheless, she knew which door led to Mrs. Peterson’s bedroom, and she made her way there with a few quick steps, rounding the open doorway to find Mrs. Peterson sitting up in bed. 
There was an open book resting on her lap. A book with blood on the pages. 
Mrs. Peterson’s blood. 
Someone had stoved her head in. Her left temple had been crushed, like an egg cracked on the side of the table. It was … it was a grotesque sight. 
Ciel turned away, a little gasp escaping her lips. She did not consider herself to be a squeamish person, she did not faint or grow squeamish at the sight of blood, but this? This was not death on the battlefield; this was Mantle! Whatever its faults, however far it had fallen, however much she detested the place, it remained an Atlesian city. A city under the rule of Atlesian law. And Mrs. Peterson … no soldier, no huntress, just an old woman. A frail old woman who posed no threat and did no harm and someone had … someone had come into her home and murdered her. 
It was too much. It was all, all too much. The vacuum flask dropped from Ciel’s fingers. Her legs trembled beneath her and she stumbled, her shoulder colliding with the wall opposite her.
“Hey!” Neon cried. “Hey, Ciel, are you okay?”
“No,” Ciel murmured. “No, I fear not.”
My strength has been used up in appearing strong, and I have none left for when I need it.
Neon frowned and rubbed Ciel’s back with one hand. “Do you want to sit down?”
“In a dead woman’s house?” Ciel demanded.
“Good point,” Neon said softly. Her face was twisted with distaste and confusion, her mouth set in a sort of permanent wince as she glanced at Mrs. Peterson. “She was a nice old lady.”
Ciel nodded silently.
“Did she ever show you her father’s pistol that he brought home from the Great War?”
Ciel shook her head. “No,” she said. “No, she never showed me that. She showed me the watches that her husband had given her for their anniversaries, but not a pistol.”
Neon managed a slight smile. “I guess she knew what would interest us,” she said. “She lived through the Great War, didn’t she?”
“As a young girl, I believe,” Ciel said. “She never talked about it.”
“No, I asked her about it once, and she clammed up.”
“I can … understand why,” Ciel replied. “Those years … cannot have always been pleasant, not even for a child.”
“To live through that,” Neon muttered. “And then … it feels like we ought to cover her up, but … the police will want everything left as it was, won’t they?”
“Probably,” Ciel said quietly.
Neon was silent for a moment. “We should say a prayer, at least.”
Despite her doubts, Ciel nodded. “That … I am sure she would appreciate that.”
There was a moment of silence. 
“Go on, then,” Neon prompted.
“You could do it,” Ciel pointed out.
“You know more of them than I do,” Neon replied. “I only know the one.”
Ciel straightened up. “If it is the one that I think it is, I cannot think of any that would be more appropriate.” 
She would have felt like a fraud to have said the prayer now, besieged by doubt as she was. Nevertheless, she stepped away from the wall on which she had been leaning, closed her eyes, and bowed her head in prayer. 
“Right,” Neon muttered. “Okay.” She cleared her throat. “As the Lady said in days of old, so say we now:
“God prepares a table before me,
And sets a feast amongst the famine,
My cup overflows,
He anoints my head with oil,
And washes my feet,
Surely, goodness and mercy will follow me,
All the days of my life,
And I shall dwell in the house of God
Forevermore.”
Ciel opened her eyes. “It is well said,” she said softly. 
If only she could still wholeheartedly believe it to be true.