SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Ditzy (New)

Ditzy

Sunset opened up her locker. Her weapons and her field outfit sat there, neatly folded or hung in the case of her clothes, waiting for her.

But it was Soteria that drew her eye: the black sword with the storied past that was suddenly causing her life a great deal of commotion. She would have been lying if she'd said that the weapon had been worth it in terms of anything that she had achieved with it so far, but that was almost irrelevant because physical achievements with the blade, while they might be nice, were not really the point. The point was that Lady Nikos had honoured her with this, and that honour would not be diminished no matter what Sunset did or did not do with the sword – unless Sunset failed to do something pretty drastic, like not save Pyrrha when she needed her.

But when was Pyrrha likely to need Sunset to save her?

Sunset pulled off her school jacket and hung it up inside the locker. As she started to undo the ribbon tie around her neck, she said, "So, after trying and failing to buy Soteria from me, Phoebe has resorted to paying someone else to fight me for it. That… that is pretty pathetic, I must say. Hardly the actions of a noble warrior and aspiring Champion of Mistral."

"I must agree with you," Pyrrha said as she tied her scarlet sash around her waist. "It is hardly the course of honour."

"I thought that she might challenge me to a duel herself," Sunset declared. "But I never thought that she would stoop to hiring another to be her champion. Is she afraid to face me?"

"She is afraid of the loss of face if you defeat her," Pyrrha clarified.

"Huh," Sunset murmured. "I would rather that she had been so afraid of me that she did not dare step into the ring against me, but I suppose I can take fear of loss. And she's right; if she faces me, she will lose."

"Do you know how good she is?" Jaune asked. "Or not?"

"I know that she's not nearly as good as she'd like to be," Sunset replied. That much had been obvious from what Pyrrha had said, and what she had not said. Phoebe, it was clear to her, aspired to the kind of greatness that Pyrrha possessed but did not have the raw skill – or the work ethic, probably – to actually achieve such greatness. And so, she was consumed with envy, a jealousy that twisted round and round inside of her like a parasite until she was made mad by it.

She reminded Sunset of… Dawn. Not of herself, obviously, for she had possessed the stuff of true greatness in her – as she was showing in this world of Remnant – and her own envy of Cadance had been driven not be inadequacy but by a lack of opportunity to shine as bright as she was able to, as bright as she knew that she could shine if only Princess Celestia would let her rise. Dawn, though, Dawn had never really been in Sunset's league, and she had known it too, and that knowing had eaten her alive.

Phoebe was lucky that Pyrrha was less proud and vainglorious than Sunset had ever been, else she might have taken glee in Phoebe's failures and served to make the wounds hurt all the more.

If she had, the lesson might have sunk in by now.

"What are you going to do?" Ruby asked.

Sunset took off her blouse and pulled her purple top over her head. "I'll accept this Bolin's challenge, and I'll beat him, obviously."

"You don't have to accept," Pyrrha counselled her. "Bolin has done nothing to personally injure you, nor you him. There is no cause that cries out for the restitution only a duel can provide."

"Maybe not, but if I refuse his challenge, then I'll look like a coward," Sunset replied. "People will say I did not fight because I was afraid to lose, the way that Phoebe shows that she is afraid to lose by getting someone else to fight on her behalf." She shook her head. "No, I will not make her mistake. I will meet this challenge and defeat anyone she hires to send against me."

"But, if you lose, then you'll lose the sword," Jaune reminded her.

Sunset affixed him with a firm gaze. "Then I will not lose," she said.

They all finished getting changed, and – dressed for action, if any of their names should be called up today – they headed out of the otherwise empty changing room and into the amphitheatre proper for Professor Goodwitch's sparring class.

Today, Team SAPR took their seats up in the gallery, looking down upon the stage and upon the benches around it where other students were gathering. Sunset spotted Trixie Lulamoon, the lights reflecting off the stars sewn onto her cape, leading her team to seats near the front. She also saw Arslan Altan and presumed that one of the two huntsmen nearby must be Bolin Hori, Phoebe's catspaw.

"Hey, guys," Yang said as Team YRBN took the row of seats above Team SAPR, "what's up?"

"Sunset's about to be challenged to a duel," Ruby explained.

Yang's eyebrows rose. "Again?"

"Don't say that like it happens all the time," Sunset complained. "I challenged Pyrrha once, as I was within my rights to do."

"Compared with the average student's total of zero, one is a big number," Blake murmured.

"I had cause," Sunset repeated. "Some people around here have no respect for tradition."

"Perhaps because tradition has little respect for some people," Ren suggested in a tone that Sunset could only think of as deceptively mild; he wouldn't have bothered to say such a thing unless something was bothering him.

"So, who's calling you out, huh?" Nora demanded eagerly. "And why? Come on, spill it, have you been naughty?"

It was ironic that she had, in fact, been naughty but that that had nothing to do with why she was about to get a challenge. "Someone wants my sword," she said, deciding not to mention that it had belonged to Phoebe's great-great uncle in case it moved them to take her side.

"They want to fight you so that they can take your stuff?" Nora demanded. "Rude."

"I feel like there's more to it than that," Ren said carefully.

"Not as far as I'm concerned there isn't," Sunset muttered.

"Alright, quiet everyone, settle down," Professor Goodwitch commanded as she strode into the amphitheatre, her heels clicking upon the floor, and walked up onto the stage. Her riding crop was held behind her back, clasped in both hands as she ran her owlish gaze over the assembled freshmen. "You all know the rules by now, so I see no reason not to dive straight into it. I trust that you are all prepared and ready." Her riding crop dropped to her side, held in only one hand as, with the other, she got out her tablet, balancing it in her left hand. With her right, she deftly kept hold of the crop and manipulated the device, running her fingertip across the screen and pushing buttons until she declared. "The first match will be between Bolin Hori and Trixie Lulamoon; please make your way up onto the stage without-"

She was too late to stop a flood of dark blue smoke from spreading out across the amphitheatre as Trixie let off one of her smoke bombs. She did not then manage to teleport up onto the stage, but at that point, so many students were coughing or spluttering that probably most of them missed her leap up from her seat, trip over the hem of her cape, get up, and then finish running up onto the stage and out of the cloud.

Apparently, she had failed to reckon with the students in the gallery, or she just didn't care about them, one way or the other.

Professor Goodwitch gave her a very frosty glare. "Miss Lulamoon, I believe I've made my views on your little theatrics perfectly clear."

Trixie laughed nervously. "Sorry, Professor. Some habits are hard to break."

Sunset’s would-be – or soon-to-be, given that Sunset had already vowed not to refuse his challenge – opponent made his way up onto the stage in a less unorthodox manner. He strode up confidently, purposefully, the slightest trace of a confident smirk upon his face. Where the Great and Powerful Trixie was all show with her outfit, Bolin was dressed half pragmatically, in grey pants and vest, and half with an eye to fashion, with a pair of vivid yellow sashes around his waist and across one shoulder. His muscular arms were covered by dark, opera-length gloves, like Pyrrha’s but with the fingers cut out, and in his hand, he held a wooden staff that seemed to possess no other qualities. Around his neck, he wore a string of grey beads; Sunset remembered that Arslan wore fire dust crystals around her neck and wondered if Bolin used earth dust the same way.

I guess I’ll find out, won’t I? Sunset thought. Lucky for me that he got called like this.

Bolin took up his position, the butt of his staff resting on the floor, golden eyes fixed on Trixie.

Trixie raised the gleaming white wand in her right hand; the tip glowed pale blue.

“Are you both ready?” Professor Goodwitch asked.

Bolin nodded silently.

“The Grrreat and Powwwerful Trrrixie is rrready!” Trixie proclaimed, flinging out her other arm so that her cape billowed out.

“Is she for real?” Yang demanded from behind them.

“Don’t underestimate her,” Blake murmured. “She’s got it when it counts.”

“Does it count now?” Yang asked.

Blake hesitated. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

Sunset leaned forward. Don’t beat him too quickly, Trixie; I want to find out what he’s got.

She was starting to think that it might be quite an ‘if’ whether Trixie could beat him or not; after all, assuming Phoebe wasn’t a complete idiot, she wouldn’t have hired someone who didn’t stand a chance against Sunset; just because Bolin was only her second choice didn’t mean that he was without skill.

All the more reason this match was a boon for her.

Professor Goodwitch stepped down off the stage with surprising grace, considering the drop she was navigating. Her head was bent down, and with her finger, she tapped a couple more times upon her tablet to cause the images of Trixie and Bolin and their aura levels – both green – to appear upon the banners that hung down the back wall. She turned to face the two combatants, her back to the rest of the students. “Begin!” she declared.

Bolin started the battle with a headlong rush, dashing straight towards Trixie, his legs pounding.

Trixie smirked triumphantly as she gestured flamboyantly with her wand. But she didn’t aim at Bolin; rather, she aimed at the ground in front of her as a freezing blast leapt from the tip of her wand, a great cone of ice that expanded outwards from her weapon and across the floor, burying the black surface of the stage in ice and encasing Bolin’s feet within its frigid embrace. And not just his feet, either, as the ice spread across the floor, so too it spread up Bolin’s legs until it covered his knees. The Haven student was quite literally frozen, unable to move in any direction.

Sunset leaned back, folding her arms as her eyebrows rose. That’s it? she thought as she watched him struggle against his imprisonment, heaving uselessly first with one leg and then another. That’s the guy who’s going to take my sword from me?

He’s not much, is he?

Trixie clearly thought so too, because she laughed aloud as she ejected the ice dust vial from the base of her wand and inserted a lightning dust vial instead; the chilly blue glow at the tip of her wand was replaced with a sickly yellow light.

Trixie looked supremely confident now, and Sunset couldn’t blame her; she had immobilised her enemy, and now, she could finish him off practically at her leisure. Sunset was a little surprised that Professor Goodwitch hadn’t called the match already; it was all over bar the shouting.

Trixie’s grin was savage as she raised her wand once more, and now, she aimed it square at Bolin. Jets of yellow lightning leapt from her weapon, snapping like wild hounds, cavorting over and around one another on their way to their target. Bolin spun his staff wildly before him, the wood whirling, but though he was able to catch some of the lightning upon his staff – so that it only lashed at his hands instead of his face and body – he could not stop all of it; the power of Trixie’s dust penetrated his defences, whipping his face, his chest, his shoulders, snapping and crackling as it tore at him like dogs on a hunt.

But his aura barely dropped at all.

It should have dropped; taking a continuous blast of lightning like that should have been flaying his aura towards the yellow, staff or no. Instead, although his aura dropped, it did so only by a small amount and remained stubbornly in the green, and the high green at that.

Sunset’s eyes widened, and a quick glance confirmed that her teammates were all similarly astonished. His aura levels must be almost on a par with Jaune’s, and having a lot of aura was basically Jaune’s thing. Whether Bolin was skilled or not remained to be seen, but the boy was an absolute beast when it came to how much he could take.

He stopped blocking with his staff, and as he raised the wooden weapon above his head, she could see that it was still hurting him to get shocked like that; his face was a rictus of controlled pain as the yellow lightning rippled up and down his form, but he bore it nonetheless as he brought the staff down upon the ice that held him captive.

Bolin’s aura dropped by a larger amount than the lightning had degraded it as, with an aura-induced shockwave, the ice shattered. Bolin leapt forwards, staff whirling in his hands as he fell upon Trixie like a hawk.

Trixie took a step backwards, teetering upon the very edge of the stage. With her free hand, she reached for one of the purple pouches that she wore at her belt, pulling out another smoke bomb and flinging it down onto the stage. The fighting platform was engulfed in blue smoke, rising in curling clouds to conceal Trixie from view. Bolin landed amidst the expanding cloud, just about visible due to his height as he brought his staff down in a savage slash where Trixie had been just a moment before.

Trixie leapt upwards and out of the smoke cloud, her starry cape flying out behind her, her pointed hat wobbling upon her head, her silver hair askew as her jump carried her upwards into the air above the stage. Trixie reached into a different pouch, producing three fire dust crystal clasped between her fingers. They began to burn an instant before she flung them down like missiles to blossom in flame amidst the smoke. Bolin’s aura dropped, but not by enough.

Trixie descended back onto the stage, and there, she began to slip upon her own ice, her arms flailing wildly as her high boots struggled for purchase. Bolin took his moment. He charged out of the smoke, crunching the ice beneath his feet, his staff whirling in his hand. He swung, a heavy, two-handed blow that struck Trixie across the head and caused the illusory Trixie conjured by her semblance to dissipate into thin air.

Trixie let out a triumphant shout as she flung more fire dust crystals – a whole handful of them this time – out at Bolin.

Bolin ripped one of the grey beads from off his neck and flung it down, ducking as he did so.

Trixie’s fire dust crystals burst around him, flames erupting in a ring all around the Haven student. Trixie flung some more crystals for good measure, and Sunset suspected that she sought to blast Bolin clean off the stage where it wouldn’t matter how much aura he had left.

But the only damage that Trixie’s fire was doing was to the dome of stone that Bolin had formed around himself.

Earth dust, just as Sunset had suspected. It cracked and crumbled as the fires raged all around it, but Bolin’s monstrous aura remained intact throughout the barrage.

The dome cracked, and a single good-sized boulder flew out of it to strike Trixie upon the temple. Her hat was knocked off her head; she staggered backwards as her aura dropped and was unable to react quickly enough as Bolin burst out of the dome and fell upon her.

At which point, it was all over, bar the actual beating of her aura into the red. Trixie had never had much talent for close combat.

Bolin, on the other hand, was talented, if not particularly sophisticated; he struck Trixie into the gut to make her double over, then swung his staff upwards to strike her in the face. He swept her legs out from under her to dump her on the floor, then just kept hitting her until the fight was done.

“That’s enough,” Professor Goodwitch declared. “The match is over, Mister Hori; you are victorious.”

Bolin nodded. “Thank you, Professor,” he said, and then he looked up, and it seemed to Sunset that he looked directly at her, a glimmer in his golden eyes that seemed to say ‘you’re next.’

Cheeky little-

“Are you sure you want to fight that guy?” Jaune asked as Professor Goodwitch gave the two of them her notes.

“Yes,” Sunset said, sounding even more firm now than she had in the locker rooms. If she had feared to be thought afraid before, she was absolutely not going to back down just because she’d seen him fight. She would allow no one to say that she had run in fear of his prowess.

Not after the way he’d looked at her.

“I’m not Trixie,” she added. “I can handle him.”

“How?” Ruby asked.

“I… haven’t gotten to that part yet,” Sunset admitted. “But I’ll find a way; you guys trust me, right?”

“We have every faith in you, of course,” Pyrrha said. “Speaking as someone who has been on the receiving end of your attacks, they hit harder than I imagine Trixie’s dust does.”

“Hmm,” Sunset murmured. “I’m not sure if that will work.”

Pyrrha frowned slightly. “Why not?”

“This is a fight over Soteria, right?” Sunset asked. “That means that I should probably use Soteria.”

Pyrrha raised one eyebrow. “You mean to fight him sword against staff?” She couldn’t keep the scepticism out of her voice.

“I thought you had every faith in me?”

“I do,” Pyrrha insisted. “But the sword is not your strongest weapon.”

“But it is the object of this battle; that cannot be ignored,” Sunset replied. How can I claim the right to Soteria if I do not wield Soteria? Sometimes, you had to accept a slight disadvantage in order to prove a point. Besides, she’d make it work.

Hopefully.

By now, Professor Goodwitch had finished advising the two combatants and putting the stage back into order. Her attention was once more upon her device. “That was a very good match to begin with, so let’s carry on with… Pyrrha Nikos-” A murmur of anticipation ran around the crowd as Pyrrha got to her feet, waiting to see who her opponent would be. Penny, down in the lower level, stuck her hand up in the air and started bouncing up and down in her seat in an effort to attract Professor Goodwitch’s attention.

Professor Goodwitch didn’t look up to notice. “Against… Ditzy Doo.”

---

Pyrrha entered the lower level of the amphitheatre by the front, passing between the two rows of haphazardly placed benches as she walked with a steady pace towards the stage.

When the combat began, the lights dimmed, save for those on the stage itself, to encourage the students’ attention that way. In a sense, it was more like being in a movie theatre than any arena that Pyrrha had ever fought in; under the light of the sun, a gladiator was expected to hold the audience’s attention upon their own merits.

Still, in the current gloom, she could see none of the other students as she passed between them; they were vague shadows to her, dark silhouettes devoid of detail. In the dark, they could almost have reminded her of the grimm, save that they weren’t trying to kill her.

No, they were just watching her instead. She could feel their gazes upon her, and self-consciousness made the gorget around her neck seem to heat up to an uncomfortable degree. They whispered too, though not loudly enough that Pyrrha could make out the words.

She had a reputation; that could not be avoided, but it didn’t mean that she enjoyed the fact. She did not enjoy the high esteem that verged on awe in which she was held by some, but as she reflected upon Arslan’s warnings to her, Pyrrha felt as though awe and respect might be preferable to being detested by her fellow Mistralians.

“Traitor!” someone hissed, as though to prove her point.

Pyrrha ignored the word and wished she could ignore the feelings that the word had roused in her. There was nothing she could do about it; she had no idea who had spoken or what in particular she had done – attending Beacon, dating Jaune, or something else entirely – to rouse their ire.

She could do nothing except pretend she had not heard, or that if she had heard, she did not care.

Pyrrha loved Mistral. She was not blind to its flaws; she saw as clearly as anyone the way that Mistral was too fond of the glories of its past to make any fresh achievements in the future. She loved it for the beauty of the mountainside city, for the gleam of the White Tower as it caught the light of the rising sun, for the gentle courtesy of so many of its people. The elder realm would always have a claim upon her heart and loyalty, but did that mean that she must devote her life to it wholly to the exclusion of all else? Did that mean that she was not allowed to go anywhere else, enjoy anything else, lest she slight Mistral’s fragile pride in so doing? Was she not allowed to attend a school in Vale without insulting Haven? Was she not allowed to date a kind and honest Valish boy without emasculating all the young men of Mistral to a degree that cried out for vengeance?

She had not asked for Mistral’s love; she had not asked for them to call her princess, to call her their pride, to speak of her as the rebirth of heroes whose stature she would not presume to measure herself against. She had won the title Champion of Mistral in the arena, but she had not thought it meant she was required to champion Mistral in all things and shun all traces of the foreign.

Others had chosen to place their hopes and dreams upon her shoulders, and now, they blamed her that she was not equal to a weight she had not sought to bear.

It was unfair.

And yet, at the same time, she was probably foolish and childish as well as selfish to think so. Her name was Nikos, she excelled in the public eye in a field in which so many Mistralians took pride; how could they not treat her this way?

She had asked for this; or at least, her mother had.

I would rather fight for you without your praise or eyes on me. And yet, for all this, I will go home once I have graduated and fight for you whether you watch me or not.

Unless… it occurred to Pyrrha that she hadn’t actually discussed the future with Jaune at all; it had seemed too early, and she didn’t want to scare him off. But what if he didn’t want to go to Mistral? What if he preferred to stay in Vale?

She would not leave him. She could not leave him, not even for her home; her heart revolted against the notion.

Perhaps that did make her something of a traitor after all.

Pyrrha did her best to block out all such thoughts and focus solely on the battle ahead as she leapt up onto the stage, her red sash trailing behind her.

Ditzy Doo was already there, waiting for her; she was of a height with Sunset, or near enough, with flaxen hair worn long and loose down almost to her waist, and cut in an untidy fringe that covered her forehead. A tail of the same flaxen colour dropped towards the floor from out of her pants. Her eyes were golden and slightly misaligned, one looking up and the other downwards. Her other features were soft and quite small, particularly her button nose which was barely visible upon her face. She was dressed in a blue shirt with the collar undone and a green skirt with white bubbles on one side, which must have been her personal emblem like Pyrrha’s spear symbol. She wore protective pads upon her knees and elbows, and bandages wrapped around her hands and lower arms.

“Hey there,” she said, her voice soft but her tone cheery at the same time. “Let’s do our best, okay?”

Pyrrha brought down her arms, and Miló – in spear form – and Akoúo̱ flew into her waiting hands. “Indeed,” she murmured.

Ditzy didn’t appear to have any weapons, but she bunched her hands into fists and raised them expectantly.

“Begin!” Professor Goodwitch cried.

Pyrrha dashed forwards, her armoured legs pounding as her sash flew behind her like a scarlet banner; she drew Miló back for a thrust aimed squarely for Ditzy’s chest. Ditzy, meanwhile, did not move; she stood there, eyes unblinking, letting Pyrrha come on.

Pyrrha leapt and thrust her spear; the gleaming tip of Miló plunged forth.

Ditzy twisted like an eel, her body contorting with incredibly swiftness as she twisted out of the way of the oncoming blow. She balanced on one leg, her other limbs spread out as Miló flew past her, Pyrrha’s arm extending outwards with it. Pyrrha began to snap backwards, using Polarity to more quickly reverse the momentum of her thrust, bringing up Akoúo̱ to defend herself-

Ditzy’s fist snapped out, and Pyrrha found that she was too slow, just too slow, to bring up her shield to prevent a punch square to the face. Her aura absorbed the blow but not the force that threw her backwards. Pyrrha ignored the smarting of her face – and the gasps from some in the watching crowd – as she converted being knocked head over heels into a backflip that set her down upon her feet and facing her opponent.

So strong! And so fast too! I’m sure that Arslan never hit so hard.

Her face was still smarting; honestly, that had felt a little worse than getting hit with Sunset’s magic.

Pyrrha flicked the hair of her ponytail out of her face as she threw her shield at Ditzy, Akoúo̱ spinning through the air at the level of Ditzy’s midriff. Ditzy leapt, her tail wrapping around her waist as she spun in place, a smile that would have been comical in other circumstances plastered onto her face as Akoúo̱ began to pass beneath her.

She reached out and grabbed it with one hand, plucking it out of the air and barely seeming to feel the momentum at all before, still spinning, she threw the shield right back at Pyrrha.

Pyrrha stepped forward, leaning away from the oncoming shield even as she stretched out her left arm towards it. She wondered if anyone would notice the black outline surrounding her gloved hand as she activated her semblance, turning her shield aside a tad and guiding it to where she could ‘catch’ it on her gleaming vambrace.

She slung it swiftly onto her back as, in her other hand, Miló switched from spear to rifle. Pyrrha pressed the gun to her shoulder and let fly with three rapid shots. Ditzy was a blur of motion as she squirmed, her body twisting this way and that, avoiding all three rounds which slammed harmlessly into the forcefield that surrounded the stage.

Instinct made Pyrrha glance towards the aura levels underneath the portraits displayed upon the wall; her own aura was down, but still in the green. More interestingly, Ditzy’s aura was down too, even though she hadn’t been hit.

So, a semblance. Some kind of quick reflexes, and it burns aura – although she may be using her aura to strengthen her attacks too.

Some semblances were more aura-efficient than others. Pyrrha’s ability to hide hers from general knowledge relied on the fact that; used carefully, it consumed practically no aura at all and was thus invisible from the perspective of anyone watching her aura level. That was how Sunset was able to conceal the fact that her aura didn’t drop despite her throwing out magic all over the place – although the fact that poor Sunset rarely got through a fight with taking some very aura-depleting hits certainly helped in that regard as well.

Ditzy, it seemed, was not as fortunate as Pyrrha in that regard; her semblance helped her to escape harm, but it burned her aura – although less than taking the hits would have, admittedly.

Either way, it provided a path to victory for Pyrrha: so long as she could avoid taking too many punishing blows herself, she could force Ditzy to deplete her own aura into the red through use of her semblance.

That would make her the winner, but it would also be rather unsatisfying, both for everyone watching and, more importantly, for Pyrrha herself.

This was a challenge, and she wanted to rise to it, not cheat her way around it.

Miló shifted to sword form in her hand as Akoúo̱ resumed its place on her arm.

Ditzy waited, her wall eyes making it impossible to tell what she was looking at, but Pyrrha decided it was best to assume that she was focussed on Pyrrha herself. And yet she made no move to attack. It seemed that her semblance encouraged her to be defensive; unfortunately for her, that meant ceding the initiative in battle.

Pyrrha hesitated, her mind whirling with potential movements, the counters to those moves that Ditzy could make, and how Pyrrha could counter those moves.

Yes, she thought, that way.

Pyrrha charged once again, her arms pumping as her legs thumped the stage, her ponytail flying. Ditzy prepared to meet her, fists raised. Pyrrha led with Akoúo̱, drawing back her shield arm – the shield was a weapon, just as she had always told Jaune – before throwing it forward like a punch, aiming the edge for Ditzy’s face. Ditzy dodged, as Pyrrha had expected she would, her semblance granting her speed and the agility to bend out of the way, her back arching.

She was still bending when Pyrrha slashed at her midriff with Miló.

It might have worked, and if it had worked, then Pyrrha would have been well-pleased, but she was not surprised when Ditzy leapt into the air, twisting yet further, turning and bending so that her Miló passed before her belly.

And as Miló passed, Pyrrha switched the weapon from sword to spear, her trusty weapon transition smoothly and, more importantly, swiftly, the point extending outwards to catch Ditzy too close for even her semblance to get her out of the way. Miló extended yet further with a bang as Pyrrha fired the weapon, flames leaping from the back as Ditzy was tossed backwards, hitting the stage and bouncing until she landed on her back near the edge.

Arslan and Sunset both cheered, and both were admonished by Professor Goodwitch.

Pyrrha leapt, the lights shining down from above glinting off her gilded armour, briefly silhouetting her like a falcon flying against the sun as she fell like thunder down on Ditzy Doo.

Her spear descended. Ditzy rolled out of the way, leaping up onto her hands and then using them to propel herself upwards, feet first, up towards the descending Pyrrha. Now it was Pyrrha’s turn to twist like an eel, sash furling up around her waist as Ditzy’s feet and legs flew past her.

Ditzy was still smiling.

And so was Pyrrha.

They both landed nimbly on their feet, and now – with her aura in the yellow – Ditzy went on the attack, her fists flying. Pyrrha took the blows on Akoúo̱, feeling the strength of her opponent reverberating through her arm. She swept at Ditzy’s legs with Miló. Ditzy leapt up. Pyrrha drove forwards, lashing out with Akoúo̱. Ditzy took the blow with both hands, but with no feet on the ground, it still threw her backwards, although she rolled with it and landed on her feet.

Pyrrha charged, Miló switching smoothly from spear to sword in her hand. Ditzy charged to meet her.

Pyrrha did not have a semblance that granted her the ability to dodge hits with preternatural agility, but she was agile and swift, and she had been taught the importance of striking without being struck. And so, when the two of them came together, it was not as two bulls or stags battling for supremacy in field or meadow; rather, it resembled two dancers, moving in time and harmony with one another, never touching as they each dodged all the blows of the other. Between Ditzy’s semblance and Pyrrha’s talent and experience, there was simply nothing between them.

The smile faltered on Pyrrha’s face, not because she felt in any danger of losing, but because she felt in grave danger of failing to win the right way.

She had to do something to break the deadlock before Ditzy’s aura ran out, but what?

And then she had it.

Pyrrha threw her shield, casting it aside in a wide arc that – with a little touch of Polarity – curved around the stage like a discus. She slashed with Miló, aiming for Ditzy’s neck and shoulder. Ditzy leaned back almost ninety degrees in another display of semblance-fuelled agility. Akoúo̱ flew back, heading first for the floor of the stage and then rising upwards towards Ditzy, who leapt up even as she remained bent over, her body straightening in the air as Pyrrha’s stroke passed above her, and Akoúo̱, despite its rising angle, seemed poised to pass beneath and pose more danger to its mistress than her foe.

Until Pyrrha applied a touch of Polarity to drastically increase the angle of Akoúo̱’s ascent. The shield jerked upwards, and once more, it seemed that there was a limit to Ditzy’s ability to get out of the way when something was too close. She started twisting, but too late, and Akoúo̱ struck her in the small of the back. Ditzy winced in pain, and Pyrrha brought Miló and both hands down hard enough to slam Ditzy into the stage and drop her aura into the red.

“And that’s the match,” Professor Goodwitch declared. “You are victorious again, Miss Nikos; congratulations.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Pyrrha said, as she slung Akoúo̱ and Miló onto her back. She bent down a little to offer Ditzy a hand up. “You fought well.”

“Thanks,” Ditzy said, accepting Pyrrha’s hand. “I had a lot of fun.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Pyrrha said, “because so did I.”

Comments

[Kiue Jin]

Awww... Pyrrha made a new friend!

[Christopher28]

Is Sunset going to let her stubbornness override her intellect AGAIN?

*sigh* She's got a lot to learn about not letting her ego call the plays. Of course, this story IS about her growth and redemption, so... that's only to be expected I suppose.

[JMP]

Well Sunset, maybe you should take up some sword fighting lessons from Pyrrha as well. The Ditzy fight was very nice. Glad to see Pyrrha have to really think on her feet.

[Lysander Shadowheart]

I am pleasantly surprised with the battle Ditzy Vs Pyrrha, it was really fun to read.

[Animatorsnake]

While Pyrrha is one of my favorite female characters for RWBY... however - DERPY FOR LIIIIIFE!

[Forthwith]

Sunset has a point about the using her sword, but at the same time...

[Luviere]

Ok, we need to talk, it feels like you gave Sunset the sword and she does literally nothing with it. She will have to fight that guy, with her new sword, but, we have not seen her train, we have not seen her fight with it at all before, how is she going to win?
I want Sunset to use the sword, i want to see her train, after all, she probably can master the sword in little time, She is not called a prodigie for nothing. There is a reason Celestia chose her and no other, there is a reason why she mastered so many spells and is so good at using them, well, she would be if you would let her, as she is now, she is nowhere near as good as she should be. Are you telling me she knows only about 4-5 spells for combat? Her potential is limitless, yet you nerfed her so bad, at her most powerful she should have wiped the floor with Adam. I get it, she is simply to powerful and you had to nerf her, but don't do it in such a way, She has so many more spells she can use, for example, body strengthening is she is planning to use a sword, that would probably be the best option, and before you say something, I'm sure there is a spell for that, she has teleport, which is literally bending time and space to your will, yet you tell me that Teleportation costs less magic or about the same as firing a ball of fire? Are you telling me that she can bend time and space but not strengthen her own body? Come on mate. You are an amazing writer, top 5 actually, so much so that the world building you did can easily pass for canon, you did more world building and character development for some characters then the show did in 9 volumes, yet at the same time you fail at the most basic levels. We don't see them train, hell, we don't even see them improve whatsoever, Sunset is the same as she was in the begging, they all are, except Jaune. No wonder Sunset had to be rescued 3 times from Adam, she doesn't improve.

Just so you know, and everyone reading this, before you start spamming me with messages as to how i should shut the hell up if i don't like it, just know that this and my last comments were constructive criticism, i do not bore any malicious intent with this comments. I like this fanfic so much, but i can't understand how you can fail at the most basic thing in this sort of story, and that is, seeing the journey and the training the characters go trough to get stronger. You didn't show any of it. Sure, there is the journey, but not the improvement, and that is a shame. You can't just have Sunset be the same, then she suddenly becomes stronger. we need to see her train. You don't even need to write how she trains, it's enough to just say she trains. There is only one time untill now that I've heard that Sunset had trained with her sword, and none with her magic.