The Pride of Mistral, Part One
"Are you all right, Pyrrha?" Penny asked.
Pyrrha put a smile on her face as she opened the locker door and removed Miló, holding the weapon about halfway down its spear-mode shaft. "Of course I am, Penny."
Penny looked at her intently. "I'm not sure I believe you," she said quietly.
The smile faltered somewhat on Pyrrha's face; having been somewhat disingenuously placed made it a little difficult to maintain. "Why would you think that, Penny?" she asked. "Everything is over and done with now; Sunset … came through for me, as it were. What do I have to be … at all not all right about?"
Penny didn't reply, at least not right away, and when she spoke again — after glancing down at the floor of the changing room — she said, "I'm sorry."
Now, Pyrrha was confused. She could understand why Penny would ask if she was all right, she could even understand Penny not believing her answer, but this? "Sorry for what? As far as I'm concerned, you have nothing at all to be sorry about."
"But that machine was built for me!" Penny cried. "The machine that they wanted to … it wouldn't exist if it wasn't for me, and you wouldn't have almost—"
"Penny," Pyrrha said, in a tone that was gentle but firm in equal measure, "did you know what was waiting for me down in the vault beneath the school?"
"I didn't even know there was a vault beneath the school."
"Then you have nothing whatsoever to apologise for," Pyrrha informed her. "If that machine did not exist at all, then you would not exist, and that would be a terrible tragedy." She slipped her free arm around Penny, drawing her into an embrace, resting her hand on the back of Penny's head.
Penny wrapped both her arms around Pyrrha's waist. "I'm glad you're not becoming someone else," she said. "I like you just the way you are.”
Pyrrha chuckled softly. "I'm glad too," she murmured. "Very, very glad indeed."
"Really?" Penny asked. "Then why do you seem … not okay?"
Pyrrha sighed. "Sunset says that I am fashioned for melancholy," she admitted. "Perhaps she's right, and this is just the latest proof of it."
"Then you are sad!" Penny proclaimed triumphantly. "I knew it!"
"Indeed?" Pyrrha asked in a somewhat arch tone as she looked down at Penny. She paused a moment. "I did not say that I was sad—"
"Yes," Penny cut her off. "You did."
"Then I misspoke somewhat," Pyrrha insisted, letting her hand fall from Penny and, gently prying herself out of Penny's embrace, taking a step back so that she could see the other girl better. "I am not sad; certainly, I am not sad to be alive, do not mistake me, I am… I am very glad that I don't have to climb into that machine, and gladder still that no one else must do so in my place. My gratitude to Sunset is … limitless."
"But?"
Pyrrha hesitated, then shook her head. "No, it's nothing, nothing that I should trouble your ears with."
"It's no trouble," Penny said. "I mean, isn't this what friends do? Listen to one another's problems?"
"Sometimes," Pyrrha allowed, "but…" She trailed off. It might be nice to confess to someone how she was feeling, what had kept her up at night, why she was … a little less than 'all right'. And perhaps … perhaps Penny might understand better than most. "Penny," she said, "why did you decide to transfer to Beacon?"
Penny blinked. "You know why. Because it's where I want to be, with all of you. Because here I can be free."
"Free, yes, but ordinary too, no?" Pyrrha replied.
"I don't understand," Penny said.
"You told us once that you were created for a great purpose," Pyrrha said. "You were created to save the world, isn't that what you said?"
"That's right," said Penny, softly.
"But you decided to cast that aside," Pyrrha said. "For a more … ordinary life. No one will expect greatness of you here, at least … that isn't to say that you will be underestimated by any means, but with your parents, or General Ironwood, there will be no one pushing you towards supreme accomplishment."
"No," Penny acknowledged. "No, that's true. I get what you're saying, that nobody is going to expect anything of me here at Beacon the way some people would at Atlas."
"Precisely," Pyrrha said. "Did that … trouble you at all? Did you ever wonder if you were making the right choice, to give up on accomplishment or glory or achievement of some great thing for the sake of happiness?"
"No."
Pyrrha laughed lightly. "Not at all?"
"It's true that I was created to do great things," Penny declared. "My fathers — certainly, one of my fathers, my father instead of my dad — created me to be the greatest thing that he'd ever made, or that anyone had ever made, something that could fight the battles that other people couldn't, or so they wouldn't have to. And that … that was pretty cool, at first. I wanted to help. I still want to help, to help my friends, protect my friends, protect people, but … after learning about Salem, and how none of us can ever really 'save the world' that way, and then after Mountain Glenn when I got taken out so easily, I started to wonder if maybe I was broken, if maybe there wasn't any point in me being here."
"Penny, that's not true at all."
"I know," Penny said. "Because I realised that, while I still have things to learn if I want to be as good a huntress as you or Sunset or Ruby, it doesn't matter if I can't do or be what my father wanted because the purpose he had in mind for me doesn't matter. I'm me, not my father's screwdriver or his gun; it doesn't matter what I was created for, it only matters what I want, and what I want is to live my own life, yes, helping people, doing the right thing, but … but being happy at the same time."
Pyrrha smiled. "Wise words, Penny, words to live by."
"But you don't want to live by them," Penny said. "Or you're not sure if you should."
Pyrrha sighed. "A Nikos is not expected to be ordinary," she said. "One might say that a Nikos is not … permitted to be ordinary."
"Permitted or expected by who?" Penny asked. "And why should they get a say on what you do or don't do, want or don't want?"
"My mother, perhaps," Pyrrha replied. "By society, by Mistral … but most of all by the ghosts of the past stretching back many centuries and ages." She paused for a moment. "The story goes that my most famous ancestor and namesake was given a choice: to go to war and win undying glory at the cost of her own life; or to live a long, unmemorable existence, one in which she might, perhaps, be happy." She smiled. "A choice much like yours, it seems to me."
"I suppose," Penny allowed. "Is that in The Mistraliad? I tried to read it, but I don't remember that part. Didn't it start when they were already at war?"
"Yes, it does, in the seventh year of the war," Pyrrha replied, "and that story that I mentioned is not part of that tale, but took place sometime earlier."
"What kind of story doesn't start at the beginning?" asked Penny.
"To start at the beginning of so long a tale would make it long indeed," Pyrrha pointed out. "How did you find it?"
Penny glanced away. "Hard," she admitted. "And the other Pyrrha wasn't very nice. She wasn't like you at all."
"No, we share a name but little else," Pyrrha said, "but the comparison is not wholly in my favour. My namesake was more skilled than I am, most like, and certainly more resolute. Hard times made her hard as steel; I am … soft and sensitive by comparison."
"I don't think that's a bad thing," Penny declared. "There's nothing wrong with being sensitive — if other people are unkind to you, then that's their problem, not yours — and there's nothing wrong with being soft, or gentle, or nice either. I think it's better to be soft than to be the kind of person who'd let a whole army lose a battle to teach them a lesson about how great you are." Penny paused. "I think she made the wrong choice."
"You do?"
Penny nodded. "I thought it would be cool to be famous, to have everyone know who I was, to think that I was awesome, to gasp and cheer for the things that I could do."
"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Pyrrha murmured.
Penny smiled. "Exactly. It didn't make you happy, did it?"
Penny had scored a touch with that one, there was no denying it. And yet, Pyrrha said, "Do you not think that there may be a difference between hollow accomplishment, such as one attains through meaningless contests, and achievements of great meaning and import, deeds of true greatness?"
"I don't see why you should have to give up on your life to do something, even something important," Penny said. "Her name is Amber, isn't it? The Fall Maiden, the one who Cinder attacked, the one that they…"
"Yes," Pyrrha whispered. "Yes, her name is Amber."
"Do you think she had a choice?" Penny asked. "Do you think that they asked her if she wanted to become the Fall Maiden?"
"That depends on how she came by the powers, I suppose," Pyrrha replied. "Rainbow Dash and I talked this morning to another Atlas student named Starlight Glimmer—"
"She's the Winter Maiden, isn't she?" Penny said. "At least, Twilight thought so."
"Twilight was mistaken, in part," Pyrrha said. "Starlight was considered to become the Winter Maiden, as I was considered to be the Fall, but as in my case, circumstances — different circumstances, but nevertheless — conspired to make the choice unnecessary. It may have been the same with Amber; it … probably was. Through the diary of Summer Rose, we learned the names of two past Fall Maidens, Auburn and Merida; it is very likely that Amber was chosen to take Merida's place, although it may be that Merida died without having a clear successor in her mind and Amber acquired the magic by a sort of accident. But Professor Ozpin and his allies appear to have too great a … a control on the Maidens for that to happen." Although not so great that they could protect Amber from Cinder.
Penny clasped her hands together. "If she did choose, I wonder what she was giving up, whether she wouldn't rather have had a different kind of life."
"If she chose, then … well, then she chose," Pyrrha said.
"Maybe because she thought she had to," Penny said, "for the good of the world."
"Perhaps," Pyrrha allowed, "but nevertheless, that was her choice."
"Maybe," Penny said. "If she did choose. What kind of life do you think she'll have, once Sunset saves her?"
Pyrrha said nothing. There was an answer, but it was not a pleasant one. She will spend her life in hiding or under heavy guard, for she is marked; Salem's forces know who she is and what she is, the shield of secrecy that she might have enjoyed and relied upon has been torn away. Even if Cinder is killed and the full power of the Fall Maiden reunites in her, she can never assume that she will be safe from danger. She will live looking over her shoulder, watching for the hunters.
"I know what it's like to have to hide what you are," Penny said. "It's not fun, even before you get to bad guys who'd want to kill you if they knew what you were. It's dark and cold and lonely, and the only light comes when you can let people in, tell them the truth, tell them what you are, and hope that … that they accept you for who you are, in spite of that. I know why the Maidens have to hide, and I know why the magic was given to them in the first place, but all the same, thinking about how they must have to live, I hate it, and I don't want … I think that we can do incredible things without magic, together, like the four sisters in the story who didn't need magic to help that old man and probably didn't need it afterwards. We can do it together, and we don't need to give up our lives to do it."
"You think that we can have it all?" Pyrrha asked.
"Well, maybe not absolutely everything, but enough," Penny said. "I mean, I don't see why not."
Pyrrha placed a hand on Penny's shoulder. "Your confidence cheers me greatly," she said. "Thank you."
Penny beamed like the sun. "Any time."
Pyrrha nodded. She stepped back and pulled Akoúo̱ out of her locker, slinging it across her back in a fluid motion, even as she slammed the locker door shut. "And now, I think we've probably kept Rainbow Dash waiting long enough, don't you?"
They left the locker room, Penny trailing ever so slightly behind Pyrrha, and emerged out into the amphitheatre. As she entered, Pyrrha heard one of the other doors close, as though someone had just left.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting," she said, calling out to Rainbow Dash where she stood up on the stage.
Rainbow turned her head in Pyrrha's direction. "Nah, it's fine," she said. "Hey, Penny." She grinned. "I didn't realise I was going to have a hostile crowd."
"I … could cheer for both of you?" Penny suggested.
Rainbow snorted. "Nobody ever cheers for both sides equally; it's just something they say to avoid having to pick a side. But it's fine; cheer for Pyrrha, she deserves it. You ready for this, Pyrrha?"
Pyrrha held out her hands, and Miló and Akoúo̱ both flew from her back and into her grasp. "I should hope so," she said, leaving Penny behind as she strode forwards, her red sash and her long red hair alike flapping slightly back and forth behind her, "seeing as I'm here."
"Just don't hand me an easy win because you're distracted, okay?"
"I assure you," Pyrrha said, as she leapt up onto the stage, "you have my undivided attention."
Rainbow stared into Pyrrha's eyes for a moment and nodded. She half turned away from Pyrrha and got out her scroll, pressing the screen a couple of times to activate the display upon the wall.
Said display connected to both Rainbow's scroll and Pyrrha's without her having to do anything, sensing that their scrolls were in the arena and no others were.
Both their auras were in the green. For now.
Rainbow's hands drifted towards her machine pistols in their holsters at her waist. She was wearing her wings strapped across her back, but Pyrrha would not simply use her semblance to dump her out of the ring.
That would be a low blow, unforgivably so.
She bent her knees and held Akoúo̱ before her in a low guard.
"Are you sitting comfortably, Penny?" she asked, without taking her eyes off Rainbow Dash.
"Yes!" Penny cried enthusiastically.
Rainbow grinned and pulled her red-tinted goggles down over her eyes. "Okay then. Let's go!"
Rainbow rushed forward like a bull, exactly as she had said she would do when they talked this morning, a rainbow streaking behind her as she charged at Pyrrha, aiming to bodily shove her out of the ring and end the match.
But I'm not just going to stand here and wait for you.
Pyrrha took a step forward and threw Miló over her shoulder at Rainbow Dash. Rainbow dodged, the rainbow swirling around her like fairy magic as she spun on her toe with a dancer's grace. Pyrrha rushed towards her, Akoúo̱ gripped in both hands, arms drawn back.
Rainbow leapt up into the air, the wings unfurling out of her backpack with a series of mechanical clanks and rattles, much like Crescent Rose unfolding, the metal feathers — each one was scratched with lines, Pyrrha noticed for the first time, as though it really were a feather — bursting out from behind her as Rainbow took to the air above the ring.
Pyrrha ran for Miló, shielding herself with Akoúo̱, holding it before her head and face as she recovered her weapon. Miló transformed from spear to rifle in her hands, but Rainbow had already drawn her machine pistols from the holsters at her hips and let fly, bullets erupting from the muzzles of both guns.
Those same bullets struck Akoúo̱, ricocheting off the shield before Pyrrha used a light touch of Polarity to throw Rainbow's aim off and send the rounds thudding into the floor on either side of her.
Rainbow growled in irritation, holstering her pistol in her left hand before gripping her right-hand gun in both hands, aura flowing to her hands as she fought with Pyrrha's semblance to train her weapon upon Pyrrha once more.
Miló roared as Pyrrha fired once, twice. Rainbow dodged, turning nimbly in the air, jinking left and right. Pyrrha threw Akoúo̱ towards her wings as she transformed Miló back from rifle into spear.
Rainbow evaded the flung shield, turning sideways to let Akoúo̱ sail past her, but as she did so, Pyrrha jumped up, planting the butt of Miló upon the floor of the arena and firing the charge of dust contained within it. Miló extended out another foot, and more importantly, Pyrrha was blasted up into the air, shooting up as though she was a spear herself towards Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow tried to get out of her way, but she was badly positioned for it having just dodged Pyrrha's shield, and Pyrrha was moving too fast.
Pyrrha struck her across the side of the head with the shaft of Miló, sending Rainbow's head snapping to the left, before the two collided, Pyrrha's momentum bearing Rainbow backwards even as her jetpack flared, fire leaping from it as it pushed back against Pyrrha.
Rainbow glared at Pyrrha, teeth gritted as she threw her face forward to headbutt Pyrrha, her brow colliding with Pyrrha's circlet — although that did not entirely stop any damage to her aura — one hand clenching into a fist.
Conscious of Rainbow's preference for aura-intensive, powerful blows, Pyrrha let go of her opponent using a sharp jab of Miló to her chest to push off of Rainbow before she twisted in mid-air, her whole body turning until she was feet first to the Atlas girl.
Rainbow rose higher before Pyrrha could kick off her, and Pyrrha was left to fall, rolling once more, turning in the air until she landed gracefully upon her feet. Akoúo̱ flew back — Rainbow managed to avoid it again — onto her left arm.
Both their auras were still in the green, but Rainbow's was somewhat less green than Pyrrha's.
Rainbow hovered in the air, looking down at Pyrrha.
Pyrrha stood upon the ground, looking up at Rainbow Dash.
Will you wait for me to come up there again?
On the contrary, Rainbow Dash came down to her, descending like a thunderbolt, head first, hands knotted into fists. Pyrrha didn't know exactly what she was planning, but she did not want to simply stand still and wait to receive it. She started to run.
Rainbow threw a punch, far too early, with no hope of hitting anything.
Hitting anything was not her intent.
Rainbow's aura boom echoed throughout the arena as she unleashed her attack upon the air itself. The stage floor cracked beneath her, shards and fragments flying into the air as a crater formed beneath her, but more importantly, a great gust of air, a shockwave, erupted all around her, exploding outwards, catching Pyrrha and flinging her sideways, tossing her like a toy to land upon the floor of the stage and roll along it as her sash wrapped around her like ribbon round a gift.
Pyrrha slammed Akoúo̱ down into the stage, burying the edge of her shield in the floor and holding onto it to arrest her movement.
She was still lying on the ground as she saw a rainbow blur out of the corner of one eye.
Rainbow closed the distance before Pyrrha could rise to her feet, delivering a sharp kick into Pyrrha's side. She threw a punch straight down towards Pyrrha's head.
Pyrrha raised her shield, turning the blow away as Rainbow's fist and arm passed over the surface of her gilded shield.
Rainbow grabbed the outer lip of Akoúo̱ as though to wrench it off of Pyrrha's arm.
Pyrrha grabbed Rainbow by the belt with her free hand.
She heaved.
Rainbow squawked with alarm as Pyrrha rolled, carrying Rainbow Dash with her, throwing her head over heels and slamming her, head first, into the stage surface which cracked beneath the impact.
Pyrrha leapt to her feet, stamping with one foot on Rainbow's chest — hard — as she raised Akoúo̱ in both hands.
She brought the shield down.
Rainbow caught it in both hands, the muscles on her arms straining. She pushed off the ground with her back, her legs snapping upwards — she really was very flexible; clearly, all that yoga paid off for her — to try and wrap around Pyrrha's midriff.
Pyrrha leapt away, then rolled away — recovering Miló as she did so — before rolling upright once again.
Rainbow leapt to her feet.
Neither of them took their eyes off one another, not even to check their aura levels.
Pyrrha switched Miló into sword mode in her hand.
Rainbow darted to the left, a rainbow trailing after her, before turning to come at Pyrrha from her side. Pyrrha turned, but too slow for Rainbow's semblance, and she was punched on the side of the jaw hard enough to snap her head around, her ponytail flying around her. Rainbow dashed around the side of the arena and turned again to come at her again, but Pyrrha jumped up into the air as Rainbow, unable to stop in time, passed harmlessly underneath her.
Rainbow turned and charged again, almost like a bull — no, a bull would not have made the indirect approach trying to come around Pyrrha's flank or rear — but still, she turned and charged again, sweeping around the edge of the stage to come at Pyrrha any direction but from the front. Again, Pyrrha leapt up, her sash fluttering down behind her.
Rainbow was too smart to grab it; she could guess what would happen if she did. More was the pity.
Pyrrha landed on the ground again and quickly backed to the very edge of the stage, where Rainbow could not get behind her.
Also where she could very easily be pushed out of the ring and thus forfeit the match, but sometimes, that was the way with these things.
Rainbow's aura was in the yellow. Pyrrha's aura was still in the green, but she had put herself in a disadvantageous position.
If I were her, at this point, I would close the distance, but not close enough that I could be gotten to grips with before I unleashed another air burst to toss, well, me out of the ring.
But you aren't the only one who's thought about this fight, Rainbow Dash. I've got something to show you.
Pyrrha concentrated her aura in her legs, and to a lesser extent in her arms, weakening the shield that protected her body, her face, concentrating the greatest part of her aura in her legs and the second greatest part in her arms. It was not something that she was in the habit of doing, but she had enough aura for it on occasion, and she felt that the results would, in this case, at least, be worth it.
Ordinarily, she didn't need the big hit, but in this case, she wanted to wrap things up while she was still ahead.
Rainbow surged forward in a rainbow, stopping short of Pyrrha, well short of her, short enough to be safe from her blows, even as she drew back her fist for the aura boom that would quite literally blow Pyrrha away.
Pyrrha unleashed the aura she had gathered in her legs, hurling herself towards Dash with an unexpected swiftness, a speed that Rainbow Dash could not, did not, expect, closing the distance between them in a flash and slashing with Miló in a furious but precise flurry of blows strengthened beyond normal by the concentration of aura in her arm, one, two, three, four blows, and Pyrrha spun on her toe, sash and ponytail alike whirling before she slammed Akoúo̱ into Rainbow's face.
With her aura concentrated thus, she hit Rainbow hard enough to knock her off her feet and onto her back — and put her aura in the red.
"Yeah!" Penny cried. "Go Pyrrha!"
"Ugh, didn't see that coming," Rainbow groaned. "How long have you had that in your pocket?"
"Actually," Pyrrha said, slinging her weapons across her back and offering Rainbow a hand up, "I got the idea from you."
"Is that irony?" Rainbow asked as she took Pyrrha's hand.
"I'm not sure," Pyrrha confessed as she helped Rainbow to her feet, "but it's certainly a compliment."
"I guess I'll take it, since I can't take the win," Rainbow said. She took a deep breath. "I thought I had you there at the end."
"If we had fought when we first met, you might have," Pyrrha replied, "but you aren't the only one to give thought to a battle between us."
Rainbow laughed. "Well, thanks," she said. "Did it take your mind off things for a couple of minutes?"
"Yes, it did," Pyrrha agreed. "Thank you."
Days passed. Sunset almost vanished, spending her time down in the darkness of the vault beneath the school, preparing for her attempt to rescue Amber. Jaune was with her, also readying himself for his part in the venture, and Twilight Sparkle too.
Pyrrha was appreciative, but — quite apart from the fact that she felt Sunset was already quite aware of how grateful and appreciative she was — she felt that the best way of showing her appreciation was to let Sunset get on with it, however precisely she was going to get on with it, without disturbing her training or her preparations. After all, what she was attempting to do was not easy, or at least, it did not sound easy.
But really, when it came to Sunset's magic, who could really say for sure?
"Did you want to be stopped?” Ruby asked.
Pyrrha looked at the other member of her team who was not engaged in the attempted rescue of Amber. The two of them sat on the little wooden bench before the chicken coop and enclosure, watching the creatures waddle up and down, heads bending down rapidly to pick the food from off the ground then rising up again just as swiftly, jerking back and forth, back and forth as they walked.
They were eating well, which Pyrrha might describe as a good omen, provided they continued to eat well until the day of Sunset's endeavour.
Of course, I suppose that doesn't really apply to all chickens.
They were such simple creatures, really, living their lives with no worry, no doubt. They didn't have fears, they didn't have ambitions that they feared to fail at the realising of. They were not troubled by existential concerns.
And of course, they have their children stolen and devoured, until the day comes they are themselves put to death. They are prisoners dependent upon the goodwill of their gaolers, and that goodwill will one day run out, and they will never know why.
Much better to be a person, all things considered.
Thinking about it, indeed, was almost enough to turn one vegetarian like Sunset.
Pyrrha dismissed the softly clucking chickens from her mind and focussed her attention on Ruby. "I am grateful beyond words that I was stopped."
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Then I must ask you to clarify what you meant,” Pyrrha murmured.
“I meant…” Ruby trailed off for a moment. “Did you want to be stopped from going through with it, not from Sunset finding another way, but if there’d been no other way, if there had been nothing to do but … that … would you have wanted to be stopped from doing it?”
Pyrrha was silent. She did not speak, she did not dare to speak, she was … her heart beat hard within her breast. She kept her mouth closed. She feared as though even to open it for breathing would let words sally forth to betray her.
Did she wish it? Stopped in what way? Did she wish that Sunset had tied her up in magical chains that she could not break and cast her into some dark cell until the moment was passed, did she wish that Jaune had kept her locked in his embrace, did she wish that she had been presented with some united front that would not let her pass?
“Yes,” she whispered. “And yet, not, at the same time. I … I am … my thoughts, my feelings, my soul is … I do not know.”
Ruby looked up at her, eyes … were her eyes narrow? Or was Pyrrha just imagining that? If they were narrow, it was only slightly so, or else, there would have been no doubt, so probably, they were not narrowed at all, and Pyrrha’s imagination, her guilt, was getting the best of her.
“It wouldn’t have driven you crazy then, to have been stopped from doing what you knew to be right?” Ruby asked.
Pyrrha sighed. “I … you have never been grateful in the least, I take it.”
“No,” Ruby said bluntly. “What should I have been grateful for?”
Pyrrha let out the very slightest laugh, but felt compelled in any case to say, “I’m sorry, this is a serious matter, I know, but…” She trailed off momentarily. “Ruby, what is it that you desire? What is it that you want from your life?”
“To be a huntress.”
“And then what?” Pyrrha asked. “To what end?”
“To be a huntress is an end in itself,” Ruby said, “isn’t it?”
Pyrrha shrugged. “That is at least in part a question of personal preference,” she said. “For myself … I quest for destiny, I seek for heroism, I strive to be worthy of my Nikos name and of the long line of my ancestors. I wish to be, as I always believed that I could be, a great huntress. And yet…”
“Jaune,” Ruby said, softly and not without sympathy.
Pyrrha’s lips curled upwards into a smile. “I did not come to Beacon looking to fall in love, and yet, love found me nonetheless. I am pierced through the heart by Eros, whose shafts never miss.” She chuckled. “I have never believed in an inescapable fate, and yet, the way in which Jaune was thrown across my path, unsought for, might almost make me reconsider. And so, while the Pyrrha who strives might be willing to do this thing, loath though she might be to pay the price for her destiny, the other half of myself, the other soul fighting for control of my body even before Amber might be added to the mix, might have been — is — grateful for any means to extricate myself with honour intact.” She paused. “Is there nothing that you would so dearly live for that you would forsake yourself for it?”
“No,” Ruby replied. “No, there’s … nothing. I’m not in love, and even if I was…”
Pyrrha’s brow furrowed just a little. “And if you were?”
Now it was Ruby’s turn to shrug. “I’d like to think that I … I kind of think that … you should be all in, or all out. Like Mom and Dad. Dad quit and stayed home to raise a family.”
“I thought he was a teacher.”
“Well, he went into teaching once me and Yang were old enough,” Ruby explained, “and anyway, teaching still isn’t real huntsman work, is it? The point is, he did that, and then Mom stayed in, and she didn’t let the fact that she was in love with my dad slow her down. So I’d like to think that I still wouldn’t let it stop me.”
I would pity the boy or girl in question, if that is truly the case, Pyrrha thought, but did not — would never — say. Although I’m not sure I’m one to talk in this particular instance.
“I would have done it,” Ruby said. “If they’d asked me.”
“I know,” Pyrrha murmured. “That’s one of the reasons why I would have done it myself.”
An angry wordless snort, like a bull expelling air out of its nostrils while at the same time contriving to growl like a dog with its tail stepped on, emerged from Ruby’s mouth and nose as she glared up at Pyrrha.
Pyrrha smiled, only somewhat apologetically. “I fear that we can never stop.”
Ruby continued to glower, something that she did surprisingly well, all things considered, before she expelled a resigned sigh from out of her. “No, no, of course you can’t. Like I said to Penny, you’re too much a princess.”
“'Princess'?”
“Shepherd of the people,” Ruby said. “And I’m the sheep.”
“Oh, no, not a sheep,” Pyrrha replied. “A sheepdog, perhaps: valiant, but in need of direction.”
Ruby looked at her again. Pyrrha battled valiantly to keep a straight face.
“Woof woof,” Ruby said.
Pyrrha closed her eyes. “I am sorry,” she said. “I fear it is too in me, too far ingrained, as you have said, for me to promise to be other than I am.”
Ruby looked away. “All the same,” she said, “as you are, I’m glad that you’re not going through with this.”
“Indeed,” Pyrrha replied. “I’m very glad myself.”
"This is gonna work, isn't it," Ruby said, not quite asking the question, at least not in her tone. "What Sunset's doing … she'll save Amber, and then … then we'll face whatever comes next, together."
Pyrrha smiled and nodded. "Yes. Yes, we surely will."
"Hey, you two!" Yang called out as she walked down the dirt path towards them. "I thought I might find you here."
Both Ruby and Pyrrha twisted around in their seats to look at her.
“Hey Yang,” Ruby said. “What’s up?”
“Well,” Yang said, walking over until she was standing behind the two of them, forcing them both to look up at her to a greater or lesser extent, “Professor Goodwitch asked me to run the planning for the parade that opens up the Vytal Festival, since I did such a good job with the dance.”
“Wasn’t the dance you and Sunset?” Ruby pointed out.
“Yeah, but Sunset’s kind of busy right now, isn’t she?” Yang replied. “Anyway, I have been asked to run the room, talk to students from the other schools, that kind of thing, and I thought to myself that I know just the people who’d be glad of the distraction that comes from helping me out.” She grinned. “What do you say?”
“Do we have a choice?” asked Ruby.
“Not in the least!” Yang said with a slightly unnerving eagerness. “Come on! What would you rather do, throw yourself into some work to take your mind off the craziness that I still cannot quite believe, or sit here moping with the chickens?”
“Well—” Ruby began.
“Don’t answer that; just come with me,” Yang said as she grabbed them both by the arms and hauled them bodily up and onto their feet, before beginning to pull them away in the direction of the school.
“Hey!” Ruby cried. “Yang, let go of me!”
“You want me to let go? Then start walking,” said Yang, without much in the way of apparent sympathy.
Pyrrha did start walking, as indeed did Ruby. Speaking for herself, Pyrrha could see Yang’s point; this would be a distraction for turbulent thoughts which gave no benefit and amounted to nothing but merely served to give her cause for worry and consternation as they whirled about her mind. She could do nothing to act on them. Her thoughts, her feelings, her opinions upon these matters were irrelevant at this point. So why dwell on them? Why not throw herself into something which, though it might seem to pale in comparison with matters of Maidens and the like, was nevertheless of great import to many of their fellow students, to say nothing of the city and the people of Vale?
To Ruby, she said, “You told me that you were disappointed that the Vytal Festival wasn’t bringing people together the way that it ought to, the way that you remembered it from when you were a little girl. Perhaps, if we play our parts, we can put that right? Not just with the parade of course, but a good festival in which everything comes together, and the seven-year-olds of today may return home with joyous memories.”
Yang smiled. “You told them about that, huh? That the time Uncle Qrow got us those tickets to the final?”
Ruby nodded. “Yeah, that was quite something, wasn’t it? I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”
“What I remember,” Yang said, a slightly wicked gleam in her eye, “is that you got over-tired because you stayed up too late that night, and the next day, you were fussy and bad-tempered.”
“No, I wasn’t!”
“Oh, yes, you were, I remember having to deal with it!”
“Well … how was I supposed to go to sleep on the last night of the Vytal Festival?” asked Ruby. “The whole of Vale was celebrating!”
“Who was the champion of the festival that year?” asked Pyrrha. That would have been the thirty-sixth biannual Vytal Festival, two years after Lady Terri-Belle had reached the final bout, raising great hopes that it was about to come home, only to falter in the last match against the Atlesian Robyn Hill. She could not remember any great Mistralian hope who had competed in the thirty-sixth tournament, though of course, some Haven students would have competed for the honour of their school and kingdom. Nevertheless, she could not remember watching any of the matches from that tournament. She thought she had been training with Chiron at the time, in the woods beyond the city.
“Her name was Aurora,” Yang said. “Aurora Jones, she was a Beacon student; she fought with a spear—”
“It was a halberd,” Ruby said. “It was a halberd that transformed into a semi-automatic. Its name was Blinding Light.”
Yang chuckled. “As you can see, Ruby’s been into weapons from an early age. I wonder what she did afterwards?”
“Maybe she’s still out there somewhere,” Ruby suggested. “Roaming the dangerous places of the world, fighting the good fight.”
Nobody wanted to mention the other likely possibility, or at least, Pyrrha presumed that they would not, so she said, “It is a little strange to me that Professor Ozpin would not try to recruit her into his circle; how better to determine if someone is the sort of clearly superlative warrior one would expect to be highly prized than victory in the Vytal Festival tournament?”
“Seems like Ozpin has his own weird way of deciding who gets to know the truth and who doesn’t,” Yang muttered. “Including some hang-ups about certain people.”
Oh dear, that was a poor choice of subject, wasn’t it?
“Um, her opponent,” Pyrrha said, bringing the subject back onto safer ground, “her opponent was Atlesian I take it.”
“He was, yeah,” Yang agreed. “How did you know?”
“An educated guess,” Pyrrha responded. “Atlas and Beacon have monopolised victory in the Vytal Festival, certainly in recent years. It has been a long time since Haven had a champion, a fact which is of no small measure of disquiet in my home city.”
“Are they really hung up about it?” asked Yang. “It’s just a tournament. It’s fun, sure, and a great time if it’s done properly, and it’s cool to watch them fight, but it’s not something to get upset about. It’s not like it’s life or death.” She paused. “Please tell me they don’t kill people in Mistral for losing in the Vytal Festival.”
Pyrrha laughed, although it was a laugh with a trifling edge to it because she could understand why Yang thought the idea was not completely beyond the realms of possibility.
“No,” she said, “we are not quite so… indeed, but Mistral gave Remnant the tradition of heroic combat, the first arenas are all found in Anima many years before anywhere else in the world, everything that the Vytal Festival is and everything that it celebrates—”
“Peace, togetherness,” Ruby said.
“Everything that is celebrated by the combat tournament,” Pyrrha corrected herself, “derives from Mistral, and yet, Beacon and Atlas have taken our arts, our heritage, and, it appears, made them your own. At the very least, you are presently doing them better than we have managed for some little time. It is … a source of shame. There is great desire for someone to bring the triumph home to Mistral.”
“Mmm, someone,” Yang said knowingly. “No pressure then, or do you not count because you went to Beacon instead of Haven?”
“Some might see it so,” Pyrrha allowed, “but I think the majority would take anything they could claim as a victory at this point.”
“So, like I said, no pressure.”
Pyrrha chuckled. “So,” she said, “how much do you have to do to organise this parade?”
“We,” Yang said, “don’t have to do everything. The cops have given us a route to march through, and they’re going to close the roads and line the route and stuff, but what we have to do is decide in what order the schools are going to march, who's going to be there, what we’re going to wear, whether we want entertainment—”
“Entertainment for us while we’re marching?” asked Ruby.
“Entertainment for the crowd, I think,” Pyrrha said. “I recall that when the Vytal Festival was last held in Mistral, the students in the parade were preceded by acrobats, jugglers, and fire-breathers.”
“Maybe, but I’m leaning towards a ‘no’ on that one,” Yang said. “I want people to be watching us, not some literal clowns up in front.”
“And we have to do all of this with just the three of us?” said Ruby, in a voice that turned a question halfway into a groan.
“Nah, each school has some representatives; we’re having a meeting in the ballroom,” Yang said. “That’s why I roped you into this; I need some back-up.”
They soon arrived at the ballroom, where a large rectangular table had been set up underneath the chandelier, and nearby, a map of Vale — or part of it at least — sat propped up on a stand with a red line running through it, presumably marking the route of the parade.
There were several other people already in the ballroom, students from Atlas, Haven, and Shade Academies. For Haven: Arslan; Cicero Ward the Younger, son of Councillor Ward; Medea, the somewhat unsettling student who had offered to poison people if Pyrrha wished it; and Neptune Vasilias.
A tournament celebrity, the son of a Councillor, the daughter of a provincial civic dignitary and priestess, and a scion of a famous Argive family; they have chosen students who have some connection to large scale events, as if the ability to organise them is passed down through bloodlines.
Or as though Arslan has absorbed administrative skill through having attended a lot of Fight Fan Expos.
Mind you, you could say the same about my presence. What do I know about organising parades?
There were only three Atlas students, but the only one that Pyrrha recognised was Ciel, who gave Pyrrha and Ruby a nod as they walked in. Of the three Shade students, she vaguely recognised one of them, but could not put a name to her.
There was one Beacon student already waiting in the ballroom: Velvet Scarlatina, the rabbit faunus who had been the victim of Cardin’s bullying at the very start of the year.
Sea and sky, that seems so very long ago.
“Hey, Velvet,” Yang said as she led Ruby and Pyrrha inside, “I thought Coco was going to be here.”
Velvet clasped her hands together in front of her and did not meet Yang’s eyes. “She’s, um, Coco’s busy.”
“Busy doing what?” asked Yang.
“Busy sulking that you were asked to run this instead of her,” said one of the Atlas students, a girl with blue highlights in her short green hair and mismatched eyes, one blue and one green.
“Vega!” Velvet exclaimed.
“Vel, I remember what she was like,” the girl, Vega apparently, said. “If these people have spent any time with her, then they know what she’s like, and if they don’t … now they do.”
“People can change,” Velvet murmured.
“Has she?” Vega asked.
Velvet hesitated for a second. “No,” she said, in a very small voice, before rallying to turn to Yang and add, “but I’m here and I’m sure that I’ll be able to help you instead.”
“Sure you will,” Yang replied jovially, patting Velvet on the shoulder as she approached the large rectangular table. “Okay, guys!” she clasped her hands together. “Thanks for coming; now we’re all here, we can get this party started! Does anyone need introductions?”
“I would appreciate it,” Pyrrha murmured.
Medea laughed lightly. “I’m sure we all know who you are, Lady Pyrrha.”
“That may be, but I do not know everyone here,” Pyrrha replied, “and I’m sure I cannot be alone in that.”
“That’s a fair point,” Yang said. “Let’s go around the table, introduce ourselves: I’m Yang Xiao Long, I’m the leader of Beacon Academy’s Team Iron, and Professor Goodwitch has asked me to make sure we get everything sorted out, because apparently, it’s a tradition for the students to make as many of the arrangements as possible. Professor Goodwitch told me it teaches planning and logistics, but I think that, really, the teachers want to outsource their work.”
That got her a couple of laughs, from Ruby, Velvet, some of the Atlas students, Neptune; Arslan snorted, and Medea smirked.
The Shade students did not seem to find it very amusing.
“My name is Pyrrha Nikos—”
“I had no idea,” Medea said dryly.
Pyrrha cleared her throat. “—and I am a member of Team Sapphire of Beacon Academy.”
“I’m Ruby Rose,” Ruby added, “and I’m also a member of Beacon’s Team Sapphire.”
“And I am Velvet, Velvet Scarlatina,” Velvet said. “From Team Coffee of Beacon Academy.”
“Arslan Altan, leader of Team Auburn of Haven Academy.”
“Medea Helios, of Team Jasmine of Haven.”
“Cicero Ward, of Team Volcano of Haven.
“Neptune Vasilias, of Haven’s Team Sun.”
“My name is Ciel Soleil, of Team Rosepetal of Atlas Academy.”
“The name’s Flynt Coal, Team Funky.”
“Vega Bleu, Team Verte.”
“I’m Nebula Violette, leader of Team Indigo, here for my sins from Shade Academy.”
“Nolan Porfirio of Shade Academy’s Team Bronze.”
“Umber Gorgoneion,” said a woman who wore her hair in tangled dreadlocks falling down her head to her shoulders and covered her eyes with a pair of impenetrable black sunglasses. “Of Shade Academy, Leader of Team Ermine.”
“Great,” Yang said, “good to meet you all; I hope we can work well together and get this done without any fuss or trouble.”
“We could always decide not to have a parade and then all go our separate ways,” Nebula suggested.
Pyrrha thought that she recognised her from combat class; she had fought … was it Sunset or was it Ruby? She found she couldn’t quite recall, so much had happened since then. In any event, her hair was an appropriate violet colour, cut short to just about reach the nape of the neck and combed over on top so that the bulk of its volume fell on the left side; she wore a light purple coat over a light grey tunic and dark grey pants, and she had a modest cuirass, about the size of a sports bra, strapped over her tunic protecting her breasts.
Yang laughed. “Very funny—”
“Who said I was joking?” Nebula asked.
Yang looked at her. “I … don’t think that’s really an option.”
“Why not?” Nebula demanded. “When Shade hosts the Vytal Festival, we don’t bother with a parade, or dances or a fairground or any of the other flim-flam flummery that you fops insist on throwing in to clutter up what ought to be a perfectly good contest of strength and skill.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Medea muttered.
Nebula scowled. “Do you have a problem?”
“Calm down, Nebula,” Umber said, placing a hand upon her shoulder. “And don’t be so quick to dismiss the traditions of these outsiders. We of Vacuo must reaccustom ourselves to the pomp and circumstance that the other kingdoms use to add tone and gravitas to monumental events; we must hone the skills for the moment when we restore Vacuo to its former greatness and have no more need to hide our envy behind scorn and feigned disregard.” She paused, a smirk crossing her lips. “Besides, you are also wrong in calling it a perfect contest. If the tournament were a perfect contest, then we would battle until auras broke … or even beyond.”
“You can’t be serious,” Pyrrha murmured.
Umber’s slender eyebrows rose into view from behind her sunglasses. “Do you think that when you face a foe in real battle and they have you at their mercy, they will stop when your aura is in the red and let you go?”
“The tournament is not a real battle,” Ciel said. “That is the point.”
“And that is its great failing,” Umber replied casually.
“I think we’re kind of getting off-topic here, guys,” Yang said. “Let’s start with … well, we’ve got the route mapped out for us, so why don’t we start with the order of march, huh? Which schools are going in what order? Now, Beacon is hosting, so I think we should go first—”
“Of course you do,” said Vega Bleu, “but Atlas won the last tournament, and as the defending champions—”
“There’s no such thing as a defending champion in the Vytal Festival,” Velvet murmured.
“—Atlas should have the honour of leading the parade,” Vega went on.
Velvet smiled. “You went pretty native up there, didn’t you?”
“You two know each other?” Ruby asked.
“The two of us and Coco all went to Pharos Combat School together,” Velvet explained, “where I seem to remember that you thought that Atlas, while it had the best facilities and could help you make the most of your potential, was, and I quote, ‘a little bit up—’”
“Let’s not go into that now,” Vega said, waving one hand rapidly before Velvet could reveal what precisely she had thought Atlas was a little bit up. “It’s all … I have had time to come and appreciate the virtues of discipline and unity.”
“It’s a hazard of letting them anywhere near Atlas,” Yang muttered. “Now, I think the fact that you won two years ago is reward enough and that since it’s our festival, we should get to lead the parade, but in the spirit of Vytal Festival friendship and cooperation, I am prepared to give everyone an equal chance to take the lead by rolling dice for it: whoever gets the highest roll goes first and so on.”
“That seems a very random way of making a decision,” Ciel said.
Yang shrugged. “Well, unless you want to fight over it—”
“Now there’s an idea,” Umber said cheerily.
Yang glanced upwards towards the heavens. “No, I don’t think we should … you know what?” She knelt down, planting her elbow on the table with her hand sticking. “We’re going to settle this with an arm-wrestling contest; each school puts someone up, each rep has three matches, and at the end of the contest, the schools march in the order that they came in. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Arslan said, flexing one arm.
“Oh, agreed,” Umber declared. “Go on, Nolan.”
“This is absurd,” Ciel muttered, “but very well.”
Yang did predictably well, seeing off Shade’s Nolan Porfirio with ease. Ciel was rather more of a dark horse; when she lined up against the Shade student, she seemed outmatched, her arms slender and rather lacking in muscle. However, although at first she seemed to be giving ground before him, a look of concentration swiftly settled on her face, and ere long, she was the one forcing him back, gradually driving his hand lower and lower until she slammed it into the surface of the table.
“Whoa,” Ruby murmured.
Ciel glanced at her. “I could not carry Distant Thunder with cocktail sticks for arms,” she said.
However, be that as it may, she was no match for Yang, as much as she struggled — and she put up quite a fight; there were moments even as her hand was forced down when she would suddenly jerk upwards, pushing Yang back, and it seemed that the pendulum might be about to swing the other way — she was eventually forced to the tabletop in defeat. The same unfortunate fate befell her at the hands of Arslan, who went on to face Yang in a match that might have been mistaken for being no match at all, the two of them kneeling opposite one another, hands clasped but arms unmoving.
It was only the intense expressions upon both their faces, the way that they grunted and huffed, the way their arms trembled, that revealed that they were actually in the midst of a desperate struggle, a struggle that went on for some seven minutes with no winner in sight — they had scarcely moved in either direction — before Arslan slammed her free hand palm down onto the table. “You know what? You want to lead the parade so badly, fine. It’s your city; you're welcome to it. I forfeit.”
And so, Yang won, and Beacon would be leading the parade, with Haven following, then Atlas, then Shade bringing up the rear.
The discussion then moved on to dress.
“All students should wear school uniforms,” Ciel said. “It will give the parade a disciplined and regimented appearance.”
“We don’t have uniforms,” Nebula pointed out.
“Although perhaps we ought to,” Umber murmured.
Nebula glanced at her. “You have not shaken Mistral off sufficiently.”
“I knew it,” Medea declared. “You are from the Kisthenian Gorgoneions; I know your sisters.”
“I am a Vacuan,” Umber said coldly. “I am reborn a child of the sun and sand; sea and sky have no more claim on me, and nor does Mistral. I belong to Vacuo now, I work for its glory, and for the glory of Vacuo alone. Something that my schoolmates should keep in mind also before they sling wild accusations.”
“Okay,” Yang said. “So, the fact that Shade doesn’t have a uniform — whether they ought to or not — is a very good point; I don’t see how we can have three schools parading in matching uniforms and then the Shade students in, like, slacks and t-shirts or whatever. If we all wear our combat outfits, then it will look consistent, and it’ll be what we’re wearing in the tournament, so everyone watching on TV will be able to recognise us once the matches start. Is that okay with everyone?”
It was, and from there, they moved yet further on. They would not have any jugglers or the like, nor would they have a combat school marching band because this was not Solitas, and neither Signal nor Pharos possessed a marching band. Would the parade be open to all students, or just the thirty-two teams who would be taking part in the combat tournament?
“I think it should be open to all,” Ruby said, “because there are teams who can’t compete, like Bluebell, who should still be allowed to march in the parade if they want to.”
“Can’t compete?” asked Vega.
“They lost someone,” Pyrrha murmured, “at the Breach.”
“But they should be allowed to march anyway,” Ruby declared, “with an empty space where Sky should be, so people can see it and remember that, although the tournament is fun and all, it’s not what being a huntsman is really all about.”
Nobody demurred from that viewpoint, how could they? How could they deny that this was, when all was said and done, a pleasant distraction, nothing more, or that it was a good idea to honour in some small part those who had upheld the traditions of a true huntsman?
Of course, that meant that a substantial amount of time was spent canvassing the students, gathering the names of which teams would like to be in the parade, and then the committee reconvening and working out the marching order of all those teams, a considerable number.
And so a few days passed in preparations, as effective a distraction as Yang could have wished.
Until the day came when the Mistralian ships arrived.