• Published 31st Aug 2018
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SAPR - Scipio Smith



Sunset, Jaune, Pyrrha and Ruby are Team SAPR, and together they fight to defeat the malice of Salem, uncover the truth about Ruby's past and fill the emptiness within their souls.

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Back at Beacon (New)

Back at Beacon

“I wish your home got more visitors,” Sunset grumbled as the train rattled along on its way back to Vale.

Jaune frowned. “Why?”

“Because if it did, someone might invest in some upgrades to this rail line,” Sunset said sharply.

Kendal Arc chuckled. “One of my first assignments, I got a train to Alexandria, then I had to set off on foot from there to survey my target area. Anyway, the point is that when I got on that train … I was amazed. I couldn’t believe it. Electric doors, computerized seat reservations … I think, for me, that was what I understand going to Atlas is like for normal people.”

Sunset smirked a little as her eyebrows rose. “So, Jaune, you actually had a pretty restrained reaction to the wonders of the modern world, then?”

“I was impressed by the trains!” Kendal declared. “That doesn’t make some kind of hayseed.”

Sunset, Jaune, Pyrrha, and Kendal were all sat together around a table in one of the train compartments that was bearing them back to Vale and — in the case of Sunset, Jaune, and Pyrrha at least — Beacon. The train rattled along, quite literally, jolting a little as it went, occasionally feeling as though it bumped over something.

The sooner they arrived and they could get off this deathtrap, the happier Sunset would be.

“Kendal,” Pyrrha said, “may I ask you something?”

Kendal shrugged. “Shoot.”

“Why did you choose to become a surveyor?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I suppose I’m just curious,” Pyrrha said. “I know why Jaune wanted to become a huntsman, but … as I say, it’s simple curiosity; you don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s not like it’s a big secret,” Kendal declared. “I just … wanted to help, really. I was always good at tracking, at map reading, I can move through the woods better than pretty much anyone in town; I like the outdoors, I like walking, and I thought, well, there must be a way that I can do all of that and do some good at the same time. Me, Jaune, even Sky … we’ve all found some way to help that plays to our strengths.”

“Indeed,” Pyrrha replied. She smiled. “I hope that, once we’ve graduated, we can work together in some way.”

“I’d like that,” Kendal agreed. She grinned. “Just promise that you won’t get distracted by having a lovey-dovey moment and let me get eaten by a beowolf.”

Pyrrha’s cheeks reddened. “We would, of course, be thoroughly professional at all times,” she said.

“I’m sure, I’m sure,” Kendal assured her. “So, what’s on the agenda for you three when you get back?”

“Jaune needs to get down and think about his new weapon,” Sunset declared. While I need to find out what Crown D’Eath found. She had some ideas on that score already: Carrot Arc’s journal said that Crown had been spending a lot of time in the library, so if Sunset could find out what books he’d been looking at, then she, reading the same things that he had read, could hopefully reach the same conclusions, for good or ill.

Hopefully for good; it would give her something to pass on to Lady Nikos. If not…

Back to plan ‘Make Something Up’ I suppose.

At that moment, a scroll went off.

Sunset put her hand to her jacket pocket. Her scroll was still and silent. “Not mine,” she said.

“No, it’s mine,” Pyrrha said. She was back in her combat outfit for the journey back to Beacon, and she took the scroll from out of one of the pouches upon her belt. “It’s Mother.”

What does she want? Sunset thought, recognizing the thought and the accompanying feelings of weariness, wariness, and annoyance as ultimately belonging to Pyrrha, not to herself.

I wonder if Pyrrha can teach me how to eliminate these ghastly side-effects, Sunset thought. It would be a fine thing if she were to let Pyrrha’s hostility show and her benefactor should think her ungrateful or impertinent in any way.

She was not Pyrrha, after all; she was not afforded such leeway. She would have to keep her opinions — Pyrrha’s opinions — to herself.

Pyrrha answered the scroll. “Good afternoon, Mother.”

“Good morning, Pyrrha,” Lady Nikos said in answer. “You appear to be moving.”

“I’m on a train home from Alba Longa, Mother,” Pyrrha said. “With Jaune and Sunset and Kendal Arc, one of Jaune’s sisters.”

“Good afternoon, my lady,” Sunset called out.

Jaune leaned a little closer to Pyrrha so that his face would be visible in the scroll. “Hello, ma— my lady.”

“Miss Shimmer, Mister Arc,” Lady Nikos said. “And good day to you, unseen Miss Arc. I confess I do not know this Alba Longa of which you speak.”

“I don’t suppose you would have heard of it, my lady; it’s a very small town,” Jaune explained. “It’s where I grew up.”

“Ah, that explains a great deal,” Lady Nikos said. “Miss Shimmer, have you learned anything of note?”

Pyrrha turned her scroll around, so that Sunset could see the face of Lady Nikos looking out at her, and Lady Nikos could see her in turn.

“I am … on the trail, my lady,” Sunset replied. “I require more time.”

“'More time'?” Lady Nikos asked. “You have had time already.”

“I have had time, my lady; what I have not had previously is time to devote to this,” Sunset explained. “If my lady will indulge me … I confess I have nothing concrete as yet to offer you, but I feel that I am closing in on something.”

“Is that so?” Lady Nikos asked. “And on what, if I may ask, do you base this optimism?”

“I have a name, my lady,” Sunset said. “Crown D’Eath, a man who, like myself, delved into the history of the Arc family, and although I know not what he found, I do know that what he found caused him great excitement.” And great alarm in the then Arc, but let’s not mention that. “If I can discover what he did, I have every confidence that it will be to my lady’s liking.”

Lady Nikos was silent for a moment. “Very well; I suppose I have little to lose and much to gain. In any event, it is no longer the most urgent matter on my mind.”

“I imagine there must be many matters of weight and importance upon my lady’s mind at any one time,” Sunset observed.

“But this is particularly urgent, else I would not have called,” Lady Nikos said. “Pyrrha, I take it that — immured as you have been in a small town — you are not yet aware of the news.”

Pyrrha reversed her scroll again, so that once more, she was looking at her mother, whose face had disappeared from Sunset’s sight.

“News?” Pyrrha asked. “No, Mother, I have heard nothing.”

“The Daily Remnant libels you,” Lady Nikos declared. “I have already instructed a lawyer to sue that odious rag into the ground, but I fear that the proceedings will take some time, and in that time, their lies will spread like wildfire.”

Sunset and Jaune both got out their scrolls at the same time. Sunset opened up her device and began to tap tap on the touch screen, typing the words ‘Daily Remnant’ into the search engine. It wasn’t a name she was familiar with, and judging by Lady Nikos’ description of it as a rag, it didn’t seem to be a particularly notable publication.

“I don’t understand,” Pyrrha said. “All manner of untruths get printed about me all the time; you’ve never gone to law over it before.”

“You will see the difference when, if I am hearing right, Miss Shimmer and Mister Arc discover what it is that has been said about you now.

Sunset’s search had brought back a whole host of results. She typed ‘Daily Remnant Pyrrha Nikos’ into the search engine to narrow it down.

“What?” Jaune cried. “Are they serious?”

“If they are not serious, then more fool them; I will see them bankrupted regardless,” Lady Nikos growled.

Sunset’s eyes widened.

This … this is…

This is my fault.

“What is it?” Kendal asked, leaning over to look at Sunset’s scroll.

“Jaune?” Pyrrha asked, prompting Jaune to press his scroll against hers so that she could read what was being said and see her mother at the same time.

The headline read Pyrrha Nikos: The Champion of Evil? The subheading continued in that vein, posturing Could Mistral’s favourite daughter be in league with the enemies of humanity?

Below there was a picture of Pyrrha, with her back to the camera, her red sash turning into a trail of blood snaking behind her towards the readership.

“What are they talking about?” Kendal murmured.

Sunset skimmed over the article itself. She closed her eyes. “Cinder,” she murmured.

“Miss Shimmer?” Lady Nikos asked.

Sunset remained with her eyes closed, her elbows resting upon the table, her head bowed slightly. After a moment, she lowered her own scroll and gestured with her fingers for Pyrrha to flip hers so that she could talk to Lady Nikos again.

Pyrrha did so. The face of Lady Nikos seemed especially hard now, the lines deeper, her features sharper.

Whether that was the lingering effects of contact with Pyrrha upon her or Sunset’s own guilt, she did not know.

“My lady,” she said, “I am sorry to have besmirched your daughter’s reputation so.”

Lady Nikos’ eyebrows rose. “Is there any truth to this, Miss Shimmer?”

Sunset licked her lips. “When Cinder Fall was here — at Beacon, disguised as a student — we were friends, my lady, although she and Pyrrha were not.”

“Far from it,” Pyrrha murmured.

“And after?” Lady Nikos asked.

Sunset glanced at Pyrrha, whose mouth had seemed to shrink as it set into disapproval.

“Cinder … my lady, what I could tell is information I fear that cannot be revealed to you.”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Shimmer?”

“There are things that are known only to the members of Teams Sapphire and Rosepetal, Professor Ozpin and General Ironwood,” Sunset said. “I trust Team Rosepetal, as I would hope that you trust all the members of Team Sapphire, and as for Professor Ozpin and General Ironwood … I would hope they would have more dignity than to go selling stories to the gutter press. What I will say, my lady, is that … is that Pyrrha considers Cinder Fall to be naught but our enemy, and I…”

I hold her responsible for my misdeeds.

“And I do likewise,” Sunset said.

Lady Nikos nodded. “Then it seems that there is little more to discuss upon the matter, and nothing to apologise for on your part, Miss Shimmer. I cannot say that I like the fact that there are details of which I must remain ignorant, but … I suppose it is an inevitable consequence of your service. In any case, I did not call in order to blame you, Miss Shimmer, but to put Pyrrha on her guard. Although it would do no harm if you were to remain on your guard also.”

“Is there anything that we can do, Mother?” Pyrrha asked, turning her scroll around once more.

“I fear not,” Lady Nikos said. “It may be that the threat of legal action will induce a retraction. If not, then it will move to the courts, but that may, as I have said, take time, and even when you win — I have, of course, had to threaten suit under your name, but rest assured, I will ensure that your education is not disrupted with court appearances — there is the unfortunate fact that people will remember what was written.”

“But no one will believe it,” Jaune said. “I mean it … it’s ridiculous!”

“Indeed, Mister Arc, and I have hope that the great mass of the people of Mistral will see this nonsense for what it is,” Lady Nikos replied. “However—”

“There are some who, if they do not believe it, will affect to do so merely so that they may delight in seeing me brought low,” Pyrrha murmured.

“It will take more than this to bring you low,” Sunset said.

“Well, yes, I suppose it will,” Pyrrha said, her voice almost as soft as it had been before. “But my point is … some will either believe it or pretend to do so.” She frowned. “Mother, if I have damaged the reputation of our house—”

“The reputation of our house has survived bad emperors who dealt with every obstacle with a mixture of violence and treachery; I daresay it can survive muck-raking journalism,” Lady Nikos said. “It was … your reputation with which I was more concerned. I am sorry that this has befallen you.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Pyrrha said. “For the warning and for your sympathies.”

“Good day then,” Lady Nikos said. “Good day to all of you, and good fortune.”

Pyrrha folded her scroll up.

“She didn’t ask how your visit went,” Kendal pointed out.

“No, she didn’t,” Pyrrha murmured. “I wouldn’t have expected her to, under any circumstances.”

“Right, because she doesn’t approve,” Kendal said. She hesitated for a moment, mouth open, no words emerging. “Cinder Fall … is she the one you fought?”

Pyrrha looked at her. “What makes you ask that?”

“Something about your face,” Kendal replied. “Your expression when you talked about her.”

Pyrrha sighed, her chest rising and falling. “Yes. Yes, she is the one.”

Kendal winced. “This must be especially galling then.”

“Somewhat,” Pyrrha said mildly.

“So … what are you going to do?”

“I … I am not sure, not yet,” Pyrrha said. “I require a little time to think upon a solution.”

“Could you not even try and find out where they came from?” Kendal asked. “I mean, somebody wrote this story; I find it hard to imagine anyone just deciding to sit down and write out a pack of lies — and then someone else decided to publish it — for no reason.”

“People knew that Cinder and I were close; we didn’t hide it,” Sunset said. “Although whether any of them would have connections to the Mistralian press is less certain. In any case, we have other things to do rather than trying to find the source of this story. Jaune needs to design a weapon, I need to … well, for either Pyrrha or myself, hunting after tattletales isn’t likely to prove anything.”

Any sort of revenge would hardly scream innocence, after all.

Although, speaking of revenge … Bon Bon might see this as turnaround being fair play after the way that Sunset had treated her and Cardin.

Cardin she did not suspect, but Bon Bon … she had cause to hate Sunset, and to at least some extent, she did hate Sunset, at least enough to knock one of her teeth out.

Yet, if Sunset found out that she had done it … then what? What could Sunset do about it? What would Sunset do about it?

I … I would do nothing. I would not make any further trouble for Pyrrha or her reputation.

And Bon Bon … Bon Bon has a right to her wrath, for all that she has aimed at the wrong target.

“I don’t envy you,” Kendal said. “Are you going to be okay, Jaune?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Jaune assured her. “By the sounds of it, it isn’t me that they’re going after.” He put his scroll away, and thereafter put his hands around Pyrrha’s shoulders. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I have little choice,” Pyrrha said, turning her face towards him. “And I trust, I hope, that most people will see this for what it is: nothing but a pack of lies.”

They arrived back in Vale not long after, having survived the journey on this rickety old train to pull in at Gateway Station. The train shuddered and groaned and sounded as if it was about to have a heart attack, keel over, and die on the verge of the finish line, but it managed to make it all the way in, and when it came to a stop, it did at least seem as though it had stopped voluntarily and not because the engine had given out.

“It doesn’t look as though we have a reception committee,” Sunset said as she looked out of the window.

“Well, we didn’t even tell Ruby that we were coming back,” Pyrrha pointed out. “How would anyone know that we were on this train?”

“That’s a good point,” Sunset allowed. “And for that reason, I think we should hold off on calling Ruby until we’re at the airship back to Beacon.” She reached her arm out of the window and tried to open the door.

It was stuck again.

Sunset huffed. “I hate that you live on this railway line,” she told Jaune.

“Here, let me,” Pyrrha said, raising her hand towards the door.

There was a click, and the handle turned in Sunset’s hand, and the door swung open.

“Neat trick,” Kendal said. “I don’t understand it, but it’s a neat trick all the same.”

“It’s my semblance,” Pyrrha explained. “Although I’d be grateful if you didn’t spread the word around; I like to keep it a secret.”

“Well, if it’s a secret, then it’s safe with me,” Kendal said with a smile on her face.

They all dismounted from the train, now that the door was open, carrying their bags and cases down with them. They moved the platform exit, clearing a space for the impatient people waiting on the platform to pile onto the rickety old train, although if they actually got anywhere, it would be a miracle in Sunset’s opinion.

They exited the platform onto the main station concourse, standing under a great glass skylight some fifty feet or more above their heads, letting in the sunlight to shine brightly and a little warmly down upon them. Before them stood a great crowd of people, their eyes fixed upon the electronic board denoting the departures of the various trains — what platform they had been assigned, was it ready to board. It was like watching birds, a great flock of birds whose heads turned almost as one, looking first to the left and then to the right, moving along to scan each train upon the board in turn. Every so often, a platform would be announced, and a part of the flock would break off and move in a great flood, as if driven by a single mind, towards the platform.

Shops — newsagents, fast food outlets, cake shops, bookshops — surrounded them; some were more like stalls, with queues of people snaking backwards from the counter; others were more conventional, and Sunset could see men and women darting in and out the doors.

Kendal put down her hold-all bag. “Headquarters is the other way from the Skydock, so I think this is goodbye.” She held out her hand to Sunset. “It was nice to meet you, Sunset Shimmer, if only briefly.”

Sunset took her hand, shaking it quickly. “Nice to meet you too.”

Kendal nodded. “And it was … it was definitely nice to meet you, Pyrrha.”

For a moment, it looked as though she was going to hold out her hand to Pyrrha, but in the end, she lunged for her instead, wrapping her arms around Pyrrha’s neck for all that she had to stand on her tiptoes in order to manage.

After a moment, Kendal held out one arm, gesturing with her hand. “Come here, Jaune.”

Jaune grinned as he stepped forward, allowing Kendal to wrap her arm around him and pull him inwards. Jaune put one arm around Kendal in turn, and Pyrrha did likewise, their two hands meeting upon Kendal’s back.

“You take care,” Kendal said. “You take care of … of one another, okay? Don’t lose each other.”

“We will,” Jaune promised.

“Always,” Pyrrha added.

Kendal was smiling as she released them, but the fact that she looked as though her eyes were about to start watering could not but lend that smile a sad and melancholy aspect.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, you will. You’d better.”

“And you take care too, out there,” Jaune added.

Kendal picked up her bag. “I’ll be fine, Jaune,” she said. “I get to run away from danger.” She turned away and set off on her own journey, in her own direction. When she had taken about a half dozen steps, she turned back with a wave, calling out to them, “And good luck in the Vytal Festival!”

Ruby was waiting for them at the docking pad as the Skybus landed at Beacon. So, too, was Arslan. Ruby was smiling, but Arslan’s expression was grim, and Pyrrha thought she could guess why.

Ruby waved to them as they stepped out of the Skybus. “Hey guys!” she cried. “Did you have a good trip?”

“It was very lovely, thank you for asking,” Pyrrha said as she walked towards the two of them.

“Apart from the way that Jaune’s brother-in-law tried to make it look like Pyrrha was cheating on Jaune,” Sunset said.

“What?!” Ruby exclaimed.

“Sunset,” Pyrrha said reproachfully, “I wasn’t going to mention that.”

“Why not? It was hilarious,” Sunset said. “We don’t get to see that savage side of you often enough.”

Arslan’s eyebrows rose. “'Savage side'?”

“I thought she was going to break the guy’s arm at one point,” Sunset said eagerly.

“Sunset, please,” Pyrrha murmured. “I’d rather that you didn’t recount it at all, and if you must, can you do it without sounding quite so gleeful upon the subject?”

“You’re the one who did it,” Sunset pointed out.

“I know,” Pyrrha admitted. “And I was very angry at the time; that does not mean that I wish it to become part of my…” — she searched for a less vain-sounding word than ‘image,’ but could not find one — “my reputation.”

“Even if you had broken his arm, it’s more restrained than some in Mistral would have been in the circumstances,” Arslan observed. “I mean, I’d have knocked a few of his teeth out at the very least.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Pyrrha replied. “Duelling is one thing, but duels are fought between, if not equals, then at least between those who know what they are doing. A duel between a skilled combatant and someone off the street, their aura unactivated, no training, that would be counted as murder — and rightly so.” She paused for a moment. “I was … angry. Jaune is…” Jaune is the best thing that has ever been mine. Jaune makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Jaune is the … Jaune is the only unalloyed good in my life. “But it would have been mere bullying to have hurt a civilian, given what I am, and I do not wish to sink so low.”

“Please tell me you did something,” Arslan said. “That sort of thing can’t be allowed.”

“His wife is divorcing him, his in-laws all know that he’s a liar and a cheat in every sense, and so does the rest of the town after I frogmarched him round it and made him confess to everybody,” Sunset said.

Arslan nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like punishment enough, I must say.”

Ruby frowned. “But why would Jaune’s brother-in-law want to do that to you in the first place?”

“Because Ruben is … a jackass,” Jaune said, a sigh in his voice. “And he always has been; it just took this for people to stop making excuses for him.”

“If everyone else wouldn’t mind,” Pyrrha said, “I’d rather not dwell on this particular aspect of our trip, especially when the rest of it was … very pleasant in parts.”

“I wish that we could talk about pleasant things only,” Arslan muttered, “but the Daily—”

“I’m aware,” Pyrrha said. “My mother called when we were on the train. But thank you for coming down to let me know.”

“Arslan showed me what they were saying,” Ruby said. “Who’d come up with something like that?”

“I told you, it’s Phoebe,” Arslan said.

“Phoebe?” Pyrrha repeated. “But why?”

“Because she’s out to get you, that’s why,” Arslan replied. “And she was in a particularly foul mood right before this bilge got published, as I told Ruby and Sunset at the time. She knows that she can’t beat you in the ring, so she’s going to try and destroy your reputation.”

“I’m well aware that she dislikes me, but still,” Pyrrha murmured. “That’s a serious accusation to make without proof.”

“I have proof,” Arslan declared. “The Daily Remnant always soft-soaps Phoebe; if you look at their coverage of the start of the Tournament season, you’ll always find that they rate Phoebe higher than any other publication does. Seriously, have you not noticed that? Do you not read the pre-season coverage?”

“No,” said Pyrrha.

Arslan rolled her eyes. “It must be nice to know you’re always going to win, no matter who you might be up against.”

“That isn’t—”

“I know, I know,” Arslan said. “But still: I’m right about this.”

“That is hardly proof,” Pyrrha pointed out. “In any case, it hardly matters.”

“Why not, of course it matters!” Arslan retorted. “Don’t tell me that you’re going to take this lying down?”

“My mother is suing the Daily Remnant,” Pyrrha informed her, “but apart from that … I’m not yet sure if there is anything that can be done.”

“There must be something,” Arslan said. “This kind of thing shouldn’t be allowed.”

“Well, perhaps it will come to me.” Pyrrha frowned slightly. “How … how is … how are the other Haven students … do they believe it?”

“I haven’t spoken to all of them,” Arslan said. “Bolin, unfortunately, believes it, but Reese and Nadir don’t; I’ve heard Cicero speaking up for you, so that’s good; Cephalus believes it, but I’m not surprised there; he’d believe anything that made a woman look bad, and in any case, Meleager got into a fight with him about it, so that makes it even.”

“Really?” Pyrrha asked. “Meleager?” Meleager had once tried to poison her when they were children; she was surprised that he would take her side in this.

Arslan nodded. “Saw it with my own eyes. Your Professor Goodwitch had to arrive to break it up. She had some rather harsh words for the rest of us on nobody having tried to break it up ourselves, but she is from Vale, I suppose; she doesn’t understand our Mistralian ways.”

“There was a fight in the cafeteria this morning,” Ruby agreed. “Though I don’t know that you all should have let it go on like you did.”

“It was a battle of honour.”

“You all formed a ring and started chanting their names.”

“I don’t see how that in any way contradicts what I just said,” Arslan replied. “And of course, Sun and Neptune believe you, but I’m not so sure about their teammates. Overall, I’d say most people — the ones with sense — see this for what it is. That and … well, it was bad enough that there was an ally of the White Fang wearing our colours for the best part of a year, stains the whole reputation of Haven. If Mistral’s brightest star was also a traitor … nobody really wants that for Mistral.” She grinned. “Nobody who's put their hopes on you wants to feel like they’ve been taken for a sucker, P-money.”

“That isn’t particularly reassuring,” Pyrrha murmured.

“It’s better than the alternative, right?” Arslan asked. “Anyway, you know what’s up, so I’ll let you guys catch up. See you around!” She turned her back on them but waved behind her as she sloped off in the direction of the school.

“Thank you!” Pyrrha called after her.

“Okay, I want to hear everything about what happened, all of the good stuff!” Ruby insisted. “But, also, I have some things to tell you as well … although they should probably wait until we get back to the dorm room.”

“Then let us go there, as swiftly as we may,” Pyrrha said.

They did, in fact, return to the dorm rooms quickly; nobody tried to hinder them upon their way there, although a few students did stare at them as they walked down the path that led to the courtyard, and thence across the courtyards into the dorm itself. The corridor that led to their dorm room was quiet; nobody had graffitied their door, thankfully, and nobody from Team YRBN came out to welcome them back — or do anything else for that matter.

And yet, as they approached, Ruby cast a glance towards the door, as if she was expecting, or hoping for, someone to emerge.

Nevertheless, nobody did, and Team SAPR returned to their own room, Sunset — the last one in — closing the door behind them.

Pyrrha put her cases down at the foot of her bed, but for the moment made no move to begin unpacking them.

“So, Ruby,” she said, “what have we missed while we’ve been away?”

“Oh, no,” Ruby said, sitting down on her own bed with her legs crossed. “You first; like I said, I want to hear everything.”

Pyrrha laughed lightly. “There isn’t really that much to tell, honestly. It was … it was very wonderful.”

“Not all the time,” Jaune admitted.

“Jaune,” Pyrrha murmured.

“It’s true,” Jaune said; he walked around her bed, avoiding her cases on the way, and sat down there, facing Ruby. “Not all of the things that I was worried about came true — my Dad was pretty sanguine about the whole ‘breaking Crocea Mors’ situation, and of course, like you said, Pyrrha wasn’t interested in any of the village guys—”

“It will never cease to amaze me that you thought she might be,” Sunset said.

“That was pretty dumb,” Ruby agreed.

“I know!” Jaune yelped. “You don’t all have to remind me!”

“And yet, when the moment came, you did not doubt me,” Pyrrha said, sitting down and placing a hand around his shoulders, her fingers resting gently upon his neck. “That counts for far, far more than all your fears before your going, however irrational those fears might be.”

“So what happened?” Ruby asked. “I mean, you said some of the things that you were afraid of happened.”

“Not all of my family liked Pyrrha, at first,” Jaune admitted. “Less because of Pyrrha than because of … what she represented, I guess. They didn’t want me to come back to Beacon. They wanted me to stay home and send Pyrrha away.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, of course not,” Jaune said. “I couldn’t leave Pyrrha, and I couldn’t not come back. Luckily, it didn’t take long for most people to come around … to Pyrrha, and to me becoming a huntsman.”

Ruby nodded. “How did you convince them?”

Jaune glanced at Pyrrha, who said, “We were able to be of some assistance during a grimm attack.”

Ruby gasped. “Was everyone okay?”

“Thankfully, yeah,” Jaune said. “One of my sisters was hurt, but I was able to heal her, and the grimm was killed before it could do too much damage. But it helped my family to see that what I’m doing is worthwhile.”

“But what if more grimm show up?” asked Ruby.

“Sky — one of my sisters, the Sheriff of Alba Longa — is hiring a huntsman to protect the village and recommend any security measures,” Jaune said.

“Oh, okay,” Ruby said. “That’s good. That’s probably the best thing, short of getting a huntsman to stay permanently.”

“I’m not sure that Sky could afford that,” Jaune said.

“But if your village is a nice place, maybe they’ll want to stay and settle down,” Ruby suggested. “Dad says that’s how half the villages in Remnant end up being protected: they can’t afford huntsmen to stick around, but the huntsmen fall in love with these quiet places — and sometimes, they just fall in love — and end up making their homes there.”

“Until they have to go on other jobs,” Sunset said. “It’s all very well to fall in love with a place and make it your home, but that attitude doesn’t pay the bills.”

“I guess not,” Ruby agreed. “So is that when you won them over? What about after that?”

“Unfortunately, we never won over Jaune’s brother-in-law, Ruben,” Pyrrha murmured. “But, yes, other than that, most of the family became much more welcoming — where they hadn’t been already; Kendal welcomed me with open arms from the very beginning — and that is when I found out that Jaune is an uncle.”

Ruby’s eyes widened. “Really? You’re Uncle Jaune.”

“Yep, I’ve got a nephew named Adrian,” Jaune said, getting out his scroll. “I think I’ve got some pictures here that Saphron sent me.”

“He’s a very adorable young man,” Pyrrha said. She smiled. “We got to babysit him.”

“Aww!” Ruby cooed. “I bet that was awesome.”

“Oh, it was lovely,” Pyrrha said.

Jaune flicked through the photos on his scroll. “Here he is: Adrian Cotta-Arc, and his other mommy, Terra Cotta.”

He held out his scroll, containing a picture of Adrian, held in Terra’s arms, smiling for the camera.

Ruby’s eyes got even bigger as she looked at the picture. “Oooh! You’re right; he is adorable! Look at those chubby cheeks! Look at that smile!”

“Hey, Sunset,” Jaune said, “don’t you want to look?”

Sunset put her hands on her hips and pointedly looked away. “No.”

Jaune’s face fell a little. “Why not?”

“Because I have no interest in children,” Sunset said, still not looking at Jaune or at the picture. “The infants of your species cannot measure up to the cuteness of my own people at that age.” She glanced at the picture of Adrian. “Although … okay, that’s a pretty cute kid.”

“I don’t think I want any children of my own,” Ruby said, “but I hope that Yang has at least one, because I’d love to be Aunt Ruby to someone: baker of cookies and slayer of monsters!”

Pyrrha’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. “You’re very young to decide that you don’t want children of your own.”

Ruby shrugged. “It’s just not something … I don’t see it. Dad’s life, Mom’s life, a house and a family … that’s not for me.”

“Is that because you don’t want it?” Sunset asked. “Or because you don’t expect to have it?”

Ruby hesitated for a moment. “Maybe … maybe I just don’t want to leave an orphan behind, without a mom.”

“That’s fair enough,” Jaune said. “My Dad quit because of that, but … but you’re not really the quitting type, are you?”

Ruby chuckled. “No. At least I hope not.”

“It’s your choice, of course,” Sunset said. “But, considering that you’re the only person we know about with silver eyes, and considering that it seems to be passed on through bloodline … some might argue that you have a responsibility to Remnant to continue that line.”

“Is that what you’re arguing?” Pyrrha asked, her voice sharpening ever so slightly.

Sunset licked her lips. “I … bloodlines are important, especially when there are magic powers attached,” she said. “But, as I say, it’s Ruby’s choice. It’s just something that you should be aware of when you make that choice.”

“I guess,” Ruby murmured. “That’s just … that’s where I am right now: I like kids, but I wouldn’t like to raise one myself. Anyway, what else happened with you two?”

“We danced at Jaune’s father’s birthday party,” Pyrrha said, leaning upon Jaune, “and they even asked me to be in the family photograph.”

Ruby clasped her hands together above her heart. “Oh, I bet you were thrilled about that!”

“I was, believe me,” Pyrrha agreed. “It was … as I say, it was wonderful.”

“It was good,” Jaune agreed. “I got to clear the air with my Dad, with Mom, I got to leave again on good terms with my sisters … and Ruben’s out of Rouge’s life, so we even got to leave the rest of the family better off than they were before. So, all in all, it was a pretty good trip.”

Ruby nodded. “And what about you, Sunset, did you find out anything about Jaune’s family? Is he a lord? Is he a prince?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I think he’s something,” Sunset said. “I’m not the first person to look into this, and though I don’t know what they found yet, I know that they found something. So I’m going to try and retrace their steps … after you tell us what’s been going on with you while we were all away.”

Ruby’s face fell. “Right. Yeah.” She took a deep breath, then swallowed. Then she breathed in again, as deeply as before. “Raven paid a visit last night.”

There was a moment of silence from Pyrrha and the others.

Sunset said, “When you say ‘paid a visit’…?”

“She was here,” Ruby said. “In this room. I’d been out with Team Iron — except for Blake, and by the way, everyone in Vale seemed really cranky about something. People were attacking faunus and the Atlesians, and it was really, really weird. Anyway, we got back, and … there she was, Raven, in this room, waiting for us.”

“What did she want?” asked Pyrrha.

“To talk,” Ruby said. “She was … disappointed that I was working for Professor Ozpin, disappointed that I hadn’t told Yang about Salem — Sunset, how could you have told Yang about Salem?”

“You told Yang?” Pyrrha asked.

“Yes,” Sunset said. “Although I’m not sure how Raven found that out.”

“She didn’t; Yang just told us then,” Ruby explained. “But still … why?”

“Because she was upset with you and didn’t get why you were acting the way you were,” Sunset said. “I thought I was doing you a favour.”

“But we weren’t supposed to tell,” Ruby said. “Professor Ozpin—”

“I didn’t trust Professor Ozpin at that time, so his commandments lay not heavily upon my shoulders,” Sunset replied. “Now … in the same position now, I might think more carefully before I told Yang aught, but it’s a bit late for such considerations now; I’ve told her. I’ve told her, and I don’t know any spells to wipe her memory. Not that I would, by the way.”

“Now Yang’s mad at me,” Ruby murmured. “Not just, or even not mostly, because of the Salem stuff, but … I didn’t tell her about anything Professor Ozpin had told me about Mom either.”

“Ruby,” Pyrrha murmured reproachfully.

“I know, I know,” Ruby muttered.

“You told me, but you didn’t tell Yang?”

“I know!” Ruby yelled. “You don’t have to rub it in.” She sighed. “What am I going to do?”

“I will talk to Yang, if you wish,” Pyrrha suggested. “I will try and persuade her that you meant no harm and that you do not deserve to be punished for your mistake.”

Ruby looked up at Pyrrha. “Would you? Really?”

“I will try,” Pyrrha said. She wasn’t certain that she was the best person to undertake this task, but Sunset had already spoken to Yang about this, and that decision had brought about this present state of affairs. Perhaps Pyrrha could offer a different perspective.

“Thank you,” Ruby said softly.

“Thank me after I have accomplished something,” Pyrrha said.

“What else did Raven say?” asked Jaune.

“She warned us not to trust Professor Ozpin,” Ruby said. “And something about the Four Maidens, something that he wasn’t telling us … but then Professor Goodwitch came in before she could explain what she meant. Raven … left. And then Professor Goodwitch took Yang away to talk to her on her own, and she didn’t explain anything either.”

“Not surprising, considering that it’s something Professor Ozpin does not wish us to know,” Sunset murmured. She folded her arms. “Four Maidens. It must be connected to Auburn and Merida, to the women that I read about in the books Twilight gave me. Not prophets, not saints, but … Maidens, apparently. Not the best name ever, but okay.”

Pyrrha glanced at Jaune. “Do you think … do you think it could also be connected to the Story of the Seasons?”

“The … that’s a fairy tale, isn’t it?” Sunset asked.

“Yes,” Pyrrha said. “It’s in the book for Doctor Oobleck’s class.”

“That’s how I know the name, but I don’t recall the details,” Sunset replied. “It wasn’t one of my favourites.”

“Pyrrha tells it very well,” Jaune pointed out.

Pyrrha chuckled softly. “Thank you, Jaune, but I’m not sure that Sunset wants to be put to sleep the way that Adrian did. But the shorter version is that, once upon a time, a reclusive old man, dwelling alone in a little cottage, was visited by four travelling sisters. The first shared his desire for solitude and urged him to use his time to meditate; the second tended to his garden and brought forth fruits and flowers form it which she gifted to the old man; the third warmed his heart and convinced him to step outside and experience the world beyond his cottage; and the fourth begs him to be thankful for all that he has and all that he has been given. In gratitude, the old man granted the sisters incredible power, and they promised to use that power to help the people of Remnant until the end of days. Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall: the four seasons.”

“Or the Four Maidens,” Ruby pointed out.

“Exactly,” Pyrrha said. “I think Jaune was about to suggest as much back at his family home, but it didn’t seem the time for such a discussion.” She looked at him. “I think the time has come now.”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Jaune said. “Professor Ozpin told us that there were only two gods, and they both left ages ago, so the idea of these gods of Vale or Mistral choosing women and bestowing power on them doesn’t make much sense, except that there are so many stories and so widespread — and Twilight says that she saw one — that it seems like they can’t just be myths that someone made up.”

“Because why would so many people make up the same thing,” Sunset said.

“Exactly,” said Jaune. “But what if the fairy tale is the real story of how these four, Four Maidens, started? What if an old man gave them their powers, and then those same powers have stuck around all this time, passing from person to person by … I don’t know how.”

“No, I can’t work that part out either,” Sunset agreed. “It seems as if you can get the powers by killing the previous … previous Maiden, which is all kinds of messed up and a terrible way to organise things, but other than that … it seems to be random. Which is also ridiculous.”

“What would be a better way to organise it?” Ruby asked.

“Through accomplishment, obviously!” Sunset declared. “We Equestrians know a thing or two about magically empowering talented individuals, and let me tell you that Alicornhood doesn’t grow on trees, and you certainly can’t get it by murdering another alicorn. You have to accomplish something, you have to achieve something, you have to at least start making Equestria an even better place than you found it, and then you get the power to keep doing that but better. Now, the old man made a good start in that regard, by giving his power to four women who didn’t really need it—”

“If they didn’t really need it, then what was the point in giving them the power in the first place?” Ruby asked.

“That,” Sunset said. “That … is not a terrible question—”

“As a reward for their virtue, as the tale describes,” Pyrrha said. “They proved themselves to the old man; they showed that they were worthy and willing to help the people of Remnant.”

“But did they need magic to do that?” asked Ruby. “I mean, they didn’t need it to help the old man in the first place; they helped him by being kind and generous and thoughtful. How were magic powers supposed to make them more of any of those things?”

“To protect them?” Jaune suggested. “It’s always been a scary world; maybe the old man was afraid that four women travelling alone, or even together, would be at risk from the grimm. Maybe the magic was supposed to protect them so that they could keep helping others? Or maybe it was less for them and more to mark those who came after?”

“So it was always about passing the magic on?” Sunset said. “But then we come back to the fact that it’s an awful method of transferring power that encourages the very worst people whom you would least want to have that sort of power. Where is the test to prove worthiness? Princess Twilight of my home didn’t simply wake up with wings one day; she had to … to make friends and learn lessons and finish the incomplete masterwork left to us by Starswirl the Bearded, the greatest wizard in our history. This power of these Maidens … it can fall to anyone.”

“When put so, it does sound … less than ideal,” Pyrrha conceded. “But perhaps it was unavoidable. Who is to say that anyone made a conscious choice in deciding how these powers, the powers of the Maidens, were passed on?”

“Perhaps, but even so,” Sunset said. “And for that matter, where did this old man get the power to bestow upon the Maidens from in the first place?”

“Does that matter?” Pyrrha asked.

Sunset paused for a second. “Probably not,” she admitted. “But I’d like to know regardless.”

“In any case,” Pyrrha said, “it seems clear now what happened: the old man, whoever he was, bestowed his power upon the Four Maidens, just as the fairy tale declared.”

“And for a while, this system worked as it was intended to do,” Sunset continued. “As the power was passed from Maiden to Maiden, someone, another Old Man, possibly Professor Ozpin’s predecessor as head of this circle, found them and trained them and then sent them out into the world when they were ready.”

“To continue the mission of the original four sisters,” Pyrrha said.

“Yes,” Sunset agreed. “Until the Dark Mother—”

“Salem,” Ruby said.

“We can probably assume that, yes,” Pyrrha murmured.

“She puts the idea into someone’s head to kill one of the Maidens and take her power, which she did,” Sunset said.

“And then took over Mistral, defeating my ancestor in battle and forcing her husband to send their child into hiding,” Pyrrha added.

“And before too long, all of the Maidens have been hunted down and killed by those who desire their power and proceed to abuse it relentlessly,” Sunset said. “Until at last, someone else, who is probably again Professor Ozpin’s predecessor, gathers a group much like ourselves, hunts down the bad Maidens, kills all of them, at which point, apparently, the powers vanish.”

“But they didn’t,” Jaune said. “They’re still here, to this day. Just hidden.”

Sunset nodded. “From what happened with Auburn and Merida, we can guess that Professor Ozpin’s predecessors, down to Professor Ozpin himself, are keeping an eye on the Maidens but keeping them secret, lest they be attacked as they were before.” She paused. “I disagree with this, by the way.”

“Disagree with what?” Pyrrha asked.

“With hiding the Maidens,” Sunset said. “They should be out there, spreading … harmony or whatever, just as they were meant to do, just as they were empowered to do.”

“But you know why that isn’t possible,” Pyrrha said. “Wicked people would hunt them down for their power. Salem would do so if she could, no doubt. Don’t you think that Cinder or those like her would leap at the chance to become so powerful?”

“I think Cinder would find no joy in a victory won through overwhelming power rather than skill and cunning,” Sunset said. “It would prove nothing in her eyes, and she craves to prove her superiority over you more than anything else.”

I fear she may have done so already. “That is a very … generous assessment of her nature, Sunset, but I wasn’t simply referring to myself, but rather more generally, and even if you are correct, then what of others, what if Salem has other servants besides Cinder? The risk—”

“Is extant, I admit, but can be managed in other respects,” Sunset said. “Guards, for instance.”

“What do you have against this approach?” asked Pyrrha.

“It is robbery,” Sunset declared. “It steals from all the people of Remnant who deserve to see magic, to see power, and … and to marvel at it, to bask in its glory, to stand in its light, be themselves illuminated, to have the shadows banished from them. As I said, my people are no strangers to the idea of granting magical power as a form of inspiration. These women should serve as paragons of their kind, models of the cardinal virtues of the human race, inspiring others to follow in their footsteps—”

“None of that needs magic,” Ruby said. “You don’t need magical powers to be inspiring; you don’t need to be able to wield enormous power to be such a good person that you inspire others to be better. None of that takes power; it just takes … it takes goodness. Power doesn’t inspire people—”

“Does it not?” Sunset asked. “Does it not make them braver, more sure of themselves—?”

“There are other ways,” Ruby insisted. “The ways that the original four sisters had of inspiring the old man without any magical power! Anyone can do that, right now, today, in Vale or Atlas or Mistral. Blake is doing that right now; she’s inspired Rainbow Dash to be so much better than she was before, and I think she’ll inspire others just the same in the days and years to come. But if Blake is killed—”

“The only thing that is lost is her example,” Pyrrha murmured.

“You say that like it is nothing,” Sunset said.

“Then I spoke poorly, for I did not mean it so,” Pyrrha replied. “Blake’s spirit is … incomparable, and her loss would be felt grievously amongst those who loved her, and even amongst those who only knew her. But it would not alter the balance of power the way that the power of the Maidens falling into the hands of Salem would.”

“Hmm,” Sunset mused. “I still think it’s worth the risk.”

“It doesn’t really matter what we think, does it?” Jaune asked. “The question is, what do we do now?”

“We should speak to Professor Ozpin and ask him these things directly,” Pyrrha said. “He can tell us if our conclusions are correct or no.”

“Perhaps he could, but will he?” replied Jaune. “I mean, he didn’t tell us this stuff in the first place; he doesn’t want us to know … what if he fobs us off, lies, refuses to talk about it?”

“Then we must accept that and accept that there are reasons to keep us ignorant,” Pyrrha said. “But it is always possible that, faced with the knowledge we have already, he will decide to tell us what he did not before, and we will learn what is truth and what is speculation.”

“I … I guess it’s worth a shot,” Jaune agreed.

“I’d like to know, if we can,” Ruby said.

“Sunset?” Pyrrha asked, twisting her body to look at their leader.

Sunset folded her arms, and for a moment was silent. She glanced away from the rest of them, and her tail began to swish backwards and forwards. “I think,” she said. “I think that … yes. Yes, we will go to Professor Ozpin, and we won’t take no for an answer.”

“That isn’t entirely what I had in—”

“Professor Ozpin once told me that he liked Raven because she pushed back on him,” Sunset informed them all. “So, if he will not tell us, that is what we will do: we shall push back, and I shall remind him that he encouraged me to do so. And that will serve him right.”

Ruby snorted. Pyrrha … did not, although she had to admit that she could see the amusing side of it. Still, she very much hoped that it would not become necessary. Encouraged or not, the idea of pushing back at Professor Ozpin could not help but seem a little impertinent.

“Shall we go now?” she asked.

Sunset shook her head. “This evening, perhaps. It can wait, and we have other things to do. You need to—”

“Oh, wait a second,” Ruby said, raising her hand. “There’s one more thing that I need to tell you.” She cleared her throat. “I called Juturna last night, to get some advice about Yang, and she told me that her brother is … coming to Vale in the next few days.”

“Turnus is coming to Vale?” Pyrrha asked. She blinked rapidly. “That is … why?”

“He’s providing security for some guy who's coming to collect something called the Heart of Mistral,” Ruby said.

“Sounds important,” Jaune said.

“It is a gem, nothing more,” Pyrrha said, “although it is a large, valuable, and finely cut and decorated one. It was lost to Mistral in the Great War, and its return has been a bone of contention with Vale ever since.”

“From what Juturna said, it sounds as though Vale is so desperate for Mistralian help that they’re willing to give it back,” Ruby said.

“Well done, Mistralian negotiators,” Pyrrha said softly. “But all the same, why does Turnus have to come here?”

“Juturna said that he wasn’t going to do anything about … about you, you know,” Ruby said. “Although … he does want to have dinner with me. Apparently, he wants to get to know me, since I’m Juturna’s friend. If you don’t want me to go—”

“No, I would never ask you to stay away on my account,” Pyrrha said quickly. “To do so would offend Turnus' pride, and I would never advise you to do that. Besides, he is a wealthy and powerful man and will be a useful connection to you once you graduate.”

Ruby blinked. “Why would I need one of those?”

“It is never a bad thing to possess such,” Pyrrha said, “and as you cannot say what road you will wish to walk, or be forced to walk, after graduation, I would advise you not to turn down any chance of this nature. Go and have fun.” She paused. “I only wish that I could be sure that he would not find time for any other such activities while he is here in the city.”

“I can understand that he isn’t happy about the whole … you two,” Sunset said. “But what’s the worst that he can do about it?”

“I … I don’t know,” Pyrrha admitted. This was Vale, not Mistral, after all; duelling was illegal here, and had been since before the Great War; Turnus could not simply contrive an excuse to fight Jaune, kill him, and then walk away unscathed and untouchable.

That did not mean that he was powerless and unable to do anything. And she was not willing to place all her trust in Juturna’s word.

“I do not know,” she repeated. “And yet, I have my fears regardless.”

“Might it reduce your fears if Jaune were armed?” Sunset asked. “Jaune, stay here and start brainstorming a new weapon. Ruby, help him out; I expect some preliminary sketches by dinnertime. Pyrrha, go and speak to Yang on Ruby’s behalf. And I will go to the library and see what I can find out about the Arcs, and then we will all meet back up and after dinner decide if we wish to or can see Professor Ozpin. Does that sound like a plan? Good, go to it then.” She turned and strode towards the door.

“Good luck,” Pyrrha murmured, giving Jaune a kiss on the cheek before she, too, rose and headed towards the door.

She left, and lacking any better idea of where to begin, she crossed the hallway and knocked gently upon the door of Team YRBN’s room.

Nora opened the door very swiftly. “Hey, Pyrrha, welcome back,” she said.

“Thank you,” Pyrrha said.

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yes, it was very nice; Jaune’s family were … most welcoming,” Pyrrha said, which was mostly true, as true as she wanted to be with Nora, who no doubt had no real desire to hear all about the ups and downs of the visit.

Nora nodded. “I’m glad,” she said. “You two make a really cute couple, you know. It’s nice to know that there are some guys out there getting it right.”

Pyrrha blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“So,” Nora said quickly, “what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if Yang was in,” Pyrrha said.

“No,” Nora said. “Yang’s not here; it’s just me and Ren.” She paused for a moment. “Is this about Ruby?”

Pyrrha sighed. “What do you know?”

“I know that what Ruby did was pretty low if you ask me,” Nora declared. “She was Yang’s mother too, you know.”

“I’m sure that it must have seemed very harsh to Yang,” Pyrrha said. “But Ruby is contrite—”

“Not enough to apologise herself,” Nora pointed out.

“That’s not fair, Nora; I volunteered to speak to Yang,” Pyrrha pointed out. “I hope that, without being involved, I can … speak more clearly. Do you know where Yang is?”

“You might find her out by the cliffs,” Ren said, appearing to stand behind Nora. “She said that she was going for a walk around the grounds; I think that’s where she’ll likely end up.”

“Ren,” Nora murmured.

“Were you going to not tell her?” Ren asked. “Isn’t it better that Yang and Ruby make up as quickly as possible? You know that this is upsetting Yang as much as Ruby.”

“I also know that Ruby is the one who needs to apologise,” Nora pointed out.

“That’s for Yang to decide,” Ren said, gently but firmly.

“The cliffs, then?” Pyrrha said. “Thank you.” She turned to go.

“Pyrrha,” Ren called out to her before she could go too far down the corridor. “We … believe in you.”

Pyrrha half turned back towards them, the toes of her boots spinning upon the carpet. “You mean … this article that’s been written about me?”

Ren nodded. “Your reputation … it meant little to us when we came to Beacon. We have not … our lifestyle hasn’t given us a great familiarity with Mistralian culture. But you have shown your quality this past year. No one who is what they say you are could have done what you have done.”

Pyrrha smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “That … means more to me than any expression of blind faith ever could. Once more, I thank you.”

The smile remained on her face as she walked down the corridor and began to descend the stairs leading out of the dorm room; let Phoebe, or whoever it might be, print what they liked about her: those who judged her by her deeds would … well, they would judge her by her deeds.

She walked briskly down the last flight of steps; the hallway leading out of the dorm room and into the central courtyard was before her now, but the door was blocked by Phoebe Kommenos — her hair now in its natural blonde colour, with no trace of the black dye that she had been wearing at the beginning of the semester — leaning against the wall with her arms folded, glancing in Pyrrha’s direction.

There was no way to reach the door without passing her, so Pyrrha kept her gaze fixed upon said door and paid Phoebe not the least bit of attention as she walked towards it.

“So,” Phoebe said, “the traitor has returned.”

Pyrrha did not wish to dignify that with a response. She said nothing and continued walking.

Phoebe stepped away from the wall to physically bar Pyrrha’s way.

Pyrrha came to a stop, scant inches from Phoebe. “May you please let me pass?” she asked. “I have urgent business I must attend to.”

“‘Urgent business,’” Phoebe repeated, in a mocking tone. “I think I can guess what that might be.”

“It is nothing like you imagine,” Pyrrha declared. “Nor is it anything that you can guess but will not dare to say.”

Phoebe’s blue eyes bulged. “Do you … are implying that I am afraid of you?”

“If you are not afraid, then speak your mind and give me cause,” Pyrrha said. “Else let me pass.”

Phoebe scowled, but she did not say what it was that she thought Pyrrha was going to do. Instead, she said, “I understand that you’ve been at the home of that peasant of yours.”

“Jaune is not a peasant,” Pyrrha replied sharply.

“Is he not?” Phoebe asked. “Is he not rustic? Does he not originate in the countryside? Is he not lowly born?”

That remains to be determined. “He did grow up in the countryside, yes.”

“Then it is no insult to say that he is a peasant, is it?” Phoebe asked.

“The Arc family are landowners within their community,” Pyrrha pointed out. “Small, by the standards of your family, or mine own, but Jaune’s father is a landed gentleman nevertheless.”

“Then I apologise for insulting Squire Arc’s dignity so,” Phoebe growled. She smirked and let out a titter of light laughter. “It was only my intent to call a spade a spade, or a trashcan a trashcan.” She laughed again. “But still, even if there is some little plot of land within the family … he is only a Valish gentleman, you will concede.”

“I will agree, I concede nothing,” Pyrrha said. “What is your point, Phoebe?”

“Why?” Phoebe demanded. “The best man in Mistral waits for you, and yet, you lower yourself into the Valish earth with this … this small landowner’s son.”

“My judgement of men is not yours,” Pyrrha declared. “My view on what makes a good man is not the same as yours. If Turnus Rutulus is so worthy in your eyes, then pursue him for yourself.”

Phoebe scowled. “You think that you are so much better than the rest of us, don’t you? You think that just because you were born skilled and are reputed virtuous, because you have the love of the common rabble, you may go about with your nose in the air and your head in the clouds looking down upon the rest of us, casting aspersions upon our ways, our honour, our way of life. You spit on our traditions.”

Phoebe spat on her, a glob of spittle landing upon Pyrrha’s cheek.

Pyrrha took a step back, wiping at her face with one hand. “I knew you didn’t like me,” she observed. “I thought it was just because I beat you.”

“The fact that such gifts as yours, the greatest gifts to be bestowed in Mistral in many a year, were given to one who hates Mistral—”

“I do not hate Mistral!” Pyrrha cried. “A piece of my heart will belong to our city always.”

“The city will soon see you for what you truly are,” Phoebe declared. “And I cannot wait to see your statue fall.” She turned away, and strode out of the door, letting it slam shut behind her.

Pyrrha had no wish to follow her too closely out; she wanted to find Yang, true, but she didn’t want to come out too closely behind Phoebe and be drawn into yet more confrontation with her.

My nose in the air and my head in the clouds, is that really how she sees me?

Is that how I am seen by all, or others?

She did not confess. But then, I hardly said anything that would have led her to confess or to acknowledge what she had done.

What would I do if I had proof, challenge her?

I would have cause to do so.

But as of now, I have none; she was careful not to give me cause for such a thing.

She hates me. But what could I have done, other than letting her win?

I am not willing to do that. It may be a vanity, but I am proud of my record of victories.

It may be all I have.

Perhaps if I had married Turnus, she would not think me so down upon Mistralian tradition.

But I am not willing to do that either. I would not forsake Jaune for … for anything.

Let her think that I care not for Mistral and Mistralian ways; I’ll be happy with Jaune, and that counts for more.

Though I do hope that others in Mistral will take to him more warmly than Phoebe Kommenos.

Judging that enough time had gone by and that Phoebe would not be so close at this point, Pyrrha followed her out of the door, emerging out of the dormitory and into the sunlight that fell upon the grounds. Her eyes passed briefly over the statue of the huntsman and huntress, where a figure sat enrobed in purple and dark green.

Pyrrha turned away, her red sash trailing a little behind her as she moved to walk around the building and towards the cliffs.

“Pyrrha!” a voice called to her, female but mellow, almost mature-sounding. “Pyrrha Nikos!”

Pyrrha turned back to see the figure who had been seated on the statue approaching her. She wore a light purple dress, narrow and ankle-length, allowing her feet to be visible in the forest green shoes whose straps wound their way up the pale skin of her feet and legs. Over her dress, she wore a dark green cloak, complete with a hood by the looks of things, although she was not wearing the hood at present, revealing a pale, sharp-featured face and long hair of a pale bluish purple spilling down behind her head. She was wearing a second cape over the top of that one, a short cape of a deep, regal purple, clasped at the neck with a golden broach.

Her high-heeled shoes tapped against the flagstones of the courtyard as she approached.

“Pyrrha Nikos,” she said again.

“You have the advantage of me,” Pyrrha replied.

“Medea,” she said. “Medea Helios, from Colchis in Mistral.”

“Ah, yes, Colchis,” Pyrrha said. “They have a very grand arena there; I fought in a small tournament—”

“In honour of the wedding of my sister, Chalciope,” Medea informed her. “It would have been polite to have let the groom take the honours.”

Pyrrha laughed nervously. “I hope that no true warrior would wish for the false triumph of having victory gifted to him.”

Medea chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but I do know that at the end of the tournament, you may have got the laurel, but Phrixus still got to marry my sister, and if that wasn’t enough for him, then he wouldn’t be worth consideration.”

Pyrrha nodded. “You are a Haven student?”

“Team Jasmine,” Medea replied. “I am not the leader, but I sometimes feel as though I do the work of such. Where Jason and the rest would be without my plans, I shudder to think.”

“Medea,” Pyrrha said, “I do not wish to be rude, but I do have some business to attend to—”

“Oh, please, I won’t keep you long,” Medea assured her. “I just wanted to say that, no matter what may be said about you in some quarters, you have my support. You’ve got that of my team too, but mine is more important, obviously.”

“That is very kind of you,” Pyrrha said. “But I’m a little surprised to hear that I have the support of Jason and Meleager.”

“Yes, they told me about what happened when you were younger; fortunately, they’ve mellowed since then. And they don’t believe that a student of Chiron could betray Mistral or humanity.”

“And you?” Pyrrha asked.

“You have the favour of the gods; your victories proclaim it,” Medea said. “And as a priestess, I can say with confidence that they would not grant their favour to one who was not worthy of it.”

The gods of Mistral are not real and never were, Pyrrha thought. But what she said, because that fact was almost too depressing to think about, much less to voice to a servant of the gods, was, “Which god are you a priestess to?”

“Thessaly,” Medea said. “The Nightwitch, the Boundary Warden, the Moon’s Mistress, the Keeper of the Crossroads and the Entrance Ways. Incidentally, the lore of herbs and poisonous plants are a particular hobby of mine and sacred to Thessaly, so if you’d like me to poison anyone who speaks ill of you—”

“That is a very … generous offer,” Pyrrha said. “But no, thank you, that won’t be necessary. I hope that most people will see these lies for what they are in any case.”

“As you wish,” Medea said. “But my offer stands, should you reconsider.”

“I will bear that in mind,” Pyrrha murmured. “But now, I really must be going.”

“Good fortune, and the moon smile down upon you, Pyrrha Nikos,” Medea declared with a bow of her head.

Pyrrha smiled, a rather fixed smile, the sort of smile that did not reach her eyes she used for the press.

She found herself walking more briskly than normal as she headed away from school towards the cliffs.

One person hates me, and the other who supports me wants to poison people on my behalf.

There are times I would rather have been born a shepherdess than the heiress to the House of Nikos.

Although I’m sure that if any real shepherdesses were to hear my thought, then they would sneer and scoff and say that I have no idea how hard they work.

They would even be right to think so.

Even so…

Pyrrha counted herself fortunate — a stroke of good fortune she quite frankly deserved — that she did indeed find Yang upon the cliffs, sitting down in such a way that looked temporary, her legs laid out in such a way as she could easily leap up again the moment the mood took her, one hand resting upon the grass and the other upon her knee.

She was looking out across the cliffs to the Emerald Forest beyond as the gentle breeze licked at her long golden hair.

“Yang,” Pyrrha said, as she approached. “Ren told me I might find you here.”

Yang shrugged. “Well, here I am.”

Pyrrha nodded. “I was hoping that I could speak to you.”

“Let me guess,” Yang said, with a sigh in her voice. “It’s about Ruby, right?”

“It is,” Pyrrha agreed.

Yang looked away. “I’m not sure that I’m in the mood for that right now,” she said.

“No?”

“No,” Yang said.

Pyrrha took another few steps closer towards her. She could feel the breeze lapping at her face, tugging at her crimson sash and her long ponytail.

“I,” she said, following Yang’s gaze out over the forest, “have just been accused in print, or at least in publication, of being an ally of the White Fang, an accomplice of Cinder Fall, and an enemy of humanity. Someone has just admitted they hate me, and the person who told me they support me wants to poison people on my behalf if they do not also support me. So tell me, Yang, how has your day been so far?”

Yang looked up at her, her lilac eyes wide. “Oh my God, you’re not even kidding, are you?”

“Unfortunately not,” Pyrrha murmured.

Yang continued to stare up at her. “Well, if your intent was to show that my day isn’t so bad … it kinda worked.” She patted the ground beside her. “Sit down.”

“Thank you,” Pyrrha said softly and sat down, her legs spread out to her right.

For a moment, they sat in silence, both looking out over the forest. There were no flying grimm in the air today, and they could see no grimm down below either, concealed as they were by the great expanse of the green trees. All they could see were the ships of the Atlesian fleet patrolling overhead, the vigil of the north keeping watch over them all.

“I gotta admit,” Yang said. “There have been times when I’ve thought it must be pretty cool to be you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to think so,” Pyrrha whispered.

“But you don’t, do you?”

“There are times…” Pyrrha said. “There are times when I … when I dislike my life intensely.”

Yang snorted. “You dislike it intensely? If you want to say ‘hate’ you can, you know.”

“I’m not sure that I could go that far,” Pyrrha said. “After all, I cannot deny that I have grown up extraordinarily privileged, wanting for nothing; to say I hate it might seem … too spoiled.”

Yang shook her head. “You don’t need to be so mild all the time, you know. You’re allowed to let it out. You just did a moment ago when you asked me how my day was. You should act that way more often.”

“No, I don’t think that I could,” Pyrrha replied. “That isn’t me at all.”

“Then who asked me how my day was?” Yang asked.

“Someone who suddenly felt extremely tired,” Pyrrha said. “I’m sorry.”

“And don’t apologise either,” Yang instructed her. “How was your trip?”

Pyrrha allowed herself to smile. “We … we talked about our future together,” she said.

“You and Jaune?”

Pyrrha nodded. “Where we would live … how many children we’d have.”

“Wow!” Yang said. “You two are down bad, aren’t you?”

Pyrrha chuckled, her cheeks heating up. “You say that as though it’s something to be ashamed of.”

“At our age, it kind of is,” Yang replied. “Should you really be tying yourself down like that so young? Isn’t he your first crush?”

“He is,” Pyrrha acknowledged. “But … I already know that I will never find another like him.”

“How?” Yang asked. “How can you possibly know that?”

“I don’t know it, I feel it,” Pyrrha replied. “In my heart. In my soul. How else should I feel love?”

Yang did not reply for a moment. She said, “Well, if you’re sure, then what is there to do but wish you happiness?” She paused. “You know my … my mother and my dad got together at Beacon.”

Pyrrha hesitated. “You mean … Raven?”

Yang nodded. “And then she left.” She paused. “You know, Jaune looks an awful lot like our Dad: blond hair, blue eyes—”

“That does not make me Raven,” Pyrrha pointed out.

“No, no, it doesn’t, and I wasn’t suggesting that you were going to … I guess I’m just saying, at our age, these things don’t always work out.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Pyrrha whispered. “Yang … Ruby is bound by strictest secrecy, as we all are—”

“About Salem, yes,” Yang agreed. “But about Mom?”

“As Summer Rose was Professor Ozpin’s agent against Salem, her story is bound up with those secrets,” Pyrrha said.

“Not everything about her is; it doesn’t have to be,” Yang replied. “Ruby could have told me … she could have told me where Mom came from, how she got to Vale, what happened to her when she got there. She could have told me stuff if she’d wanted to, but she didn’t.”

“It has not been so long,” Pyrrha pointed out. “It could be that Ruby was waiting for the right time.”

“Why wasn’t the right time right after?” Yang demanded.

“I … cannot say,” Pyrrha admitted. “But you know Ruby bears you no malice; she would never intentionally harm you thus.”

“I know,” Yang muttered. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. A lot of things hurt right now.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the fact that Professor Ozpin didn’t want me to know the truth because he’s worried I’ll turn out like my mother,” Yang said. “Like the fact that my mother is a pretty awful person to turn out like, more than I ever expected.”

“How so?” Pyrrha asked.

Yang glanced at her, then glanced away, then glanced at Pyrrha again. “She’s a bandit,” she said. “And not the good kind, either.”

“Is there a good kind of bandit?”

“I don’t know, people keep asking me if she, I don’t know—”

“Robs from the rich and gives to the poor?” Pyrrha suggested. “I think that only happens in stories.”

“Probably,” Yang agreed. “My mother kills the poor and steals from their bodies.”

“And my ancestors kept faunus as slaves,” Pyrrha pointed out. “We are not those who came before us. We may draw strength and inspiration from their virtues, if they had any, but we are not fated to do as they did, not condemned to walk the paths they walked, not certain to win their triumphs nor condemned to their disasters. Our destinies, our final goals, they are in our keeping and ours alone. Where is it that you see yourself, Yang Xiao Long, at the end of your journey?”

“At the end of my journey? What am I, you?” Yang asked. “Do you think I have all that stuff planned out?”

“I think if you didn’t know where you wanted to be, you would not be here,” Pyrrha replied gently.

Yang shrugged. “I mean … I wanted to travel, I guess. I wanted a life of adventure, a life where I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, what it would throw at me. A succession of new places to see, new people to meet … and new challenges to test myself against.”

“'Wanted,'” Pyrrha murmured. “Not want?”

Yang sighed. “Salem—”

“Is not your responsibility,” Pyrrha pointed out. “Professor Ozpin has not asked for your help; you are under no obligation to give it.”

Yang let out a slightly bitter laugh. “I guess you have a point there,” she said. “It doesn’t seem like much of a goal though, does it?”

“The goal is yours,” Pyrrha replied. “It is not for others to pronounce upon your destiny, its worthiness or otherwise. It is yours, and only you can say whether it is worthy of you or no.” She paused. “Although I think Ruby would like a niece or nephew.”

Really?” Yang asked amusedly. “I’ll bear that in mind.” She paused. “Hey, Pyrrha?”

“Yes?”

“Ruby gets that what she did was wrong, right?” Yang asked. “Because I’m not going to apologise; I shouldn’t have to. But … but I can accept her apology, I think.”

“That is all that Ruby wants, I’m sure,” Pyrrha said.

Yang nodded. “Hey, Pyrrha?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t sweat too much about what gets written about you, or the people who hate you, or the people who want to poison for you … actually, do worry about that a little bit; you don’t want to get charged as an accessory,” Yang grinned. “The point is … none of them, none of them, really matter. You know who's got your back. You know who really knows you. Who really loves you. They’re the ones that matter.”

“I know,” Pyrrha agreed. “And I feel intensely fortunate every time I remind myself of it.”


As the dorm room door closed behind Pyrrha, Ruby got up from her bed and walked over to the long desk that ran along the far side of the room. She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen.

"So, Jaune," she said, "what do you want your new sword to look like? Do you even want a sword at all? You know, if we melted all the pieces of the blade down, I think we'd probably have enough metal for an axe—"

"'An axe'?" Jaune repeated. "Wouldn't that be a little different to use compared to a sword?"

Ruby thought about it for a moment. "Probably a little bit, yeah."

"I think I should stick with a sword," Jaune replied. "I don't want Pyrrha to have to start teaching me how to use a new weapon from scratch all over again."

"That makes sense," Ruby said, as she walked back towards him. "My Mom used an axe," she said.

"Really?" Jaune asked. "Did Professor Ozpin tell you that?"

"Yeah," Ruby replied. Her voice became lower and quieter as she added, "It's one of the things that I didn't tell Yang."

"She'll come around," Jaune assured her. "She won't stay mad at you forever, she can't." He changed the subject, not back to his own weapon — he was … not exactly putting it off, but buying himself a few more minutes' breathing room to come up with more ideas — but to that of Summer Rose. "So, what was your Mom's axe called?"

"Vargcrist," Ruby announced. "It means 'Wolf Cleaver.'"

"Woah, sounds cool," Jaune said. "In either language. From the fact that Professor Ozpin told you that, I'm guessing that your Dad doesn't have it?"

Ruby shook her head. "Professor Ozpin said it disappeared with my Mom, on her last mission."

"'Disappeared,'" Jaune murmured. "You mean—?"

"They never found … they never found her, no," Ruby murmured.

"Then maybe—"

"No," Ruby replied. "No, she's not."

"What makes you so sure?" Jaune asked.

"Because she wouldn't just leave us," Ruby declared. "She wouldn't go away and disappear without saying anything like … like Raven. If Mom could come home, then she would have. She's gone. No one knows how or where exactly, but … but she's gone."

Jaune nodded, wishing that he hadn't mentioned it. It had seemed kind of obvious when Ruby talked about disappearance, but now … yeah, it would have been pretty rough for Summer Rose to have treated her children like that; if she could have done it, she would have been a very different sort of Mom than the one that Ruby seemed to remember — or idolise.

"What else did Professor Ozpin tell you?" he asked.

"Well, this is something that I need to tell Pyrrha as well, but Team Stark tried to take out Salem once."

Jaune's eyebrows rose as his blue eyes widened. "Really? But Salem can't be killed!"

"But Professor Ozpin hoped that they could be turned to stone using Mom's silver eyes," Ruby explained. "Only it … didn't work. According to Raven, Mom's eyes didn't do anything to her at all."

"Nothing?" Jaune repeated. "So … is she invulnerable as well as unkillable? She can't even be hurt?"

"I don't know," Ruby admitted. "Professor Ozpin didn't say … Professor Ozpin probably doesn't know. He wasn't there himself; he only knows what Mom and the others told him when they got back, and I don't think they knew exactly. Does it … does it really matter? Immortal, invulnerable, after what happened with Team Stark, it's not like we're ever going to face her ourselves."

"I guess not," Jaune said softly. "We'll just take on the likes of Cinder and the grimm."

"Uh huh," Ruby agreed. "But you aren't going to take on anybody without a sword."

Jaune chuckled. "Right, that."

Ruby hopped back onto her bed, resting the pad of paper on her knee. "So, what do you want? And don't say you just want your sword back the way it was, because that would be really boring, even if it is traditional."

"That's not what I want, don't worry," Jaune told her. "My Dad said that I should remake it in a way that's mine, a weapon for me, not for my great-great-grandfather or my great-grandfather or any other Arc who used Crocea Mors before me." He paused, scratching his chin with one finger. "The problem is … I don't really know what that means right now. A weapon that's for me, I mean. After all, I only started learning to fight this year; I'm still getting a hang of the basics." He smiled. "I guess what I'm saying is, it's a pity that Cinder couldn't wait until closer to graduation to break my sword when I have more idea of where my strengths are."

Ruby grinned. "Well, we know you've got a lot of aura, why don't we start there? That's a strength."

"Yeah, it is," Jaune agreed. "But what does it have to do with a weapon?"

"You could use your weapon to do powerful aura attacks," Ruby suggested.

"If I wanted to do that, wouldn't it make as much sense to just punch people, like Rainbow Dash does?"

"I guess so, but if you focussed your aura through your weapon, I'm pretty sure that you'd be more efficient and directed about it," Ruby replied. "Plus, you'd have the additional power coming from the weapon itself."

Jaune's brow furrowed. "Do you have something in mind?"

"I did have a thought," Ruby said, sketching rapidly upon the paper. "That if we reforged it the way it was, we could then rework the scabbard so that, besides converting to a shield, it could actually form an expanded sword, a two-hander — we'd have to expand the hilt so that you could hold it two-handed — which would allow you more powerful attacks even before we factor in the use of aura."

"But then I wouldn't have a shield," Jaune pointed out.

"Do you really need one?" Ruby asked. "Or armour, for that matter. With aura, you can focus your energies into the attack—"

"Maybe you'd have a point if I was just starting out on the rooftop," Jaune said. "But it's the same as changing a sword for an axe: I've already spent a whole year learning how to use a shield; I don't want to make that all just wasted effort."

"Hmm," Ruby murmured, which didn't sound particularly convinced, but she didn't contest the point; rather, she scrubbed out whatever she'd been drawing on the pad. "So, do you have any ideas?"

Jaune leaned forwards a little. "A couple. Do you think I'd be better off with a gun or with dust?"

Ruby frowned. "I don't think there's enough metal — in fact, I know for sure that there isn't enough metal — to give your sword transforming abilities. Even if you went for something simple like Penny's Floating Array, where all the swords do is fold up to create the laser cannons, I'm not sure you could retain the low width necessary to fit the scabbard."

"I'm not talking about transforming into a gun," Jaune said. "I'm talking about a gun just built into the sword, like Dove has, or else just a sword that also uses dust, like Weiss or Russel."

Ruby nodded. "That could work. Have you thought about using dust in your shield too?"

"In the shield?"

"I mean, you want to keep it, right?" Ruby asked. "Just because it isn't broken doesn't mean you can't upgrade it at the same time as you're reforging your sword."

Jaune thought about that for a moment. Flash used dust in his shield; he'd seen it in combat class: he used lightning to shock opponents through their weapons. It didn't always work — for one thing, it relied upon his opponent touching his shield long enough for him to set off the lightning, and for another thing, it really, really backfired when he went up against Nora — but it was an effective tool in the Altesian's arsenal.

Jaune wasn't sure that it was really him, however. Admittedly, he wasn't certain yet what was him, but still … it didn't feel like him. The shield was a weapon, true, but that kind of weapon?

It occurred to him that if he didn't know what kind of a fighter he was yet, he could at least think about what kind of a fighter he wanted to be: someone who could hold his own at Pyrrha's side and cover her flank if necessary.

"What about hardlight dust?" he asked. "I could expand my shield, maybe, get better coverage out of it, maybe big enough that the rest of you could shelter behind it if you had to."

"That's a cool idea," Ruby said. "But hardlight dust is really hard to come by. I thought about using hardlight dust rounds in Crescent Rose once — I thought I might get better penetration than regular rounds — and Uncle Qrow told me that Atlas makes it really hard to export to the other kingdoms; even the SDC has a hard time selling any of it. Apparently, unless you know someone from Atlas who can get it to you discreetly, you have to buy it directly from the SDC and pay through the nose for it."

"That sucks," Jaune said. "Why do they do that?"

"It's the rarest kind of dust, and really useful for science, I think," Ruby replied. "They don't want to run out."

"Makes sense, I guess," Jaune murmured. He considered asking one of Team RSPT to help him get his hands on some hardlight dust, but he didn't really know any of them that well — he wasn't as close to them as Sunset, or even Ruby — and besides, they wouldn't be around next year. "Is gravity dust hard to come by?"

"Kind of, not as much as hardlight," Ruby replied. "Why?"

"I was thinking about how you and me and Pyrrha have moves where you springboard off my shield," Jaune said. "And I thought, what if I had gravity dust in my shield? I could maybe launch you further."

Ruby grinned. "Yeah, yeah, you sure could," she said, amusement in her voice. "You'd have to be careful not to overdo it, though."

It took Jaune a moment to work out what she meant. "Oh God!" he exclaimed. The vision of Pyrrha disappearing out of sight into the air was at once both horrifying and hilarious. "Yeah, let… let's not do that," he said. "In fact, why don't we leave the shield for now? So, what do you think: gun or dust?"

"Dust," Ruby said.

"That was a quick answer from someone who uses a gun," Jaune pointed out.

"Learning how to shoot well is a skill," Ruby said. "Learning how to shoot well with something that doesn't have a gun grip, or a stock, or any kind of sights, is much, much harder. It's amazing Dove doesn't miss with at least nine out of ten of his shots. Use dust, and if you use the right kind of dust, the accuracy — or lack of it — won't be such a big deal. Plus — again, with the right kind of dust — you'll get a lot more power from it than you will with the kind of gun you could build into your sword."

"Okay, dust it is then," Jaune agreed. "Leaving aside what kind of dust for a second, because I've got some thoughts on that—"

"What thoughts?"

"Ice," Jaune said. "Fire. The usual ones, seeing as how it seems all the unusual ones are hard to get and difficult to use."

"You won't have to worry about the dust store not having what you need," Ruby agreed. "But you were saying?"

"I was just going to ask what that might look like," Jaune said.

Ruby smiled as she began to draw. "I think it could look something like this."


“Mister Tukson?” Sunset called as she walked into the library. “Mister Tukson, are you still here?”

It occurred to her that he might have gone back to his bookshop already; after all, with Adam dead and the White Fang a shadow of what it once was, there wasn’t exactly the need for him to stick around at Beacon any more.

Certainly, the library seemed to be empty at the moment. There was no one in the stacks, there was no one at the terminals or at the tables, there was no one … anywhere that Sunset could see. Even the lights failed to turn on as she walked in, although that was because it was daylight, and there was plenty of, well, day light streaming in through the great windows.

Sunset adjusted her grip on her bag, with the books that she had borrowed to take to Alba Longa. Without someone around, it was going to be difficult to access the records she needed; it wasn’t as though just any student could look at who had borrowed what books going back years into the past.

Fortunately, a voice replied, “Hang on a second, I’ll be right with you.” A moment later, Tukson emerged from out of the back, carrying a ledger in one hand. “Miss Shimmer? Something I can help you with? Or did you just come to return those books you borrowed earlier?”

“I have them right here,” Sunset said, opening up her bag with one hand as she walked towards him, “but no, that’s not why I’m here.”

Tukson put his ledger down on the desk in front of him, separating himself from Sunset. “Okay then,” he said, “what can I do for you?”

“There are records of borrowings, right?” Sunset asked, as she approached the desk. “There are records of who borrowed what book, or rather records of what books were borrowed by which student?”

“Sure,” Tukson agreed. “Otherwise, how would the school know who to fine for not returning books on time? Why?”

“I’m hoping that I can look at those records and see which books were borrowed by a certain student,” Sunset said. “This would be a while back, about two generations ago.”

Tukson’s eyebrows rose. “'Two generations'? What would you be interested in borrowings from the library way back then for?”

“Because I know that they were looking for something, and I know that they … they certainly thought that they found something, and if I look in the same places that they did, then maybe I can find it too,” Sunset explained.

“That’s kind of light on detail,” Tukson remarked.

“I’m light on evidence at the moment,” Sunset said. “But I’d better be on the right track because it’s the only track I’ve got to follow right now.”

Tukson reached up to scratch the gap between his eyebrows. “You know, those records from that far back won’t be computerised,” he said. “Do you have a year you want to look at?”

Sunset did not, in fact, have a year that she wanted to look at, but one thing that had been computerised were the enrolment records going all the way back to the foundation of Beacon, so it was pretty easy to find the years that Carrot Arc and Crown D’Eath had attended Beacon — Team CCDN, pronounced ‘Carcharodon’ apparently — which at least narrowed it down a little bit.

Which was to say that it narrowed it down enough for Tukson to drop a stack of dusty old ledgers he had pulled from the back room down in front of her and tell her to knock herself out.

Evidently, he wasn’t going to help, for which Sunset couldn’t exactly blame him. It was an odd thing to be doing, to an outside observer.

It would probably seem a little odd to someone who knew what she was about, to be honest.

But Lady Nikos had dealt fairly with her, and while he might not explicitly want to know about his ancestry, Sunset couldn’t believe that Jaune would be unhappy to learn where his family came from.

And besides … she was pretty curious herself, at this point. While he might not have been the very best of men, Crown D’Eath had found something about his partner that he considered important, that he had believed in. Something that Carrot Arc had believed in too and been determined to keep secret.

Sunset didn’t want to just walk away from that with the mystery unresolved. She wanted to get to the bottom of it. She wanted to find the answers, if only for her own personal satisfaction.

And so she trawled the old ledgers of borrowed books — she really hoped that Crown D’Eath had checked them out; if he had simply read them in the library, then she’d be up the creek — looking for the name of Crown D’Eath.

At last, she found it — having checked out a bestiary of grimm, presumably for his Grimm Studies class.

Sunset kept looking. There were a lot of records and a lot of books; names passed before her in long rows, all the students who had come before. As she read their names, as she read the titles of the books that they had checked out — books about grimm, books about myths and fairytales, books about history, books about plants — Sunset wondered how many of them had known the truth, as she and her teammates knew the truth. Which of them had been recruited by Professor Ozpin to help him in his fight against Salem and which of them had passed through Beacon ignorant of the true nature of the struggle consuming and convulsing Remnant.

She noted the name of Auburn at one point, a reminder to go and speak to Professor Ozpin about Maidens at some point.

Most of the books checked out by Crown D’Eath were quite ordinary, the same sort of books that numerous students checked out to help with their schoolwork. However, after a not inconsiderable period of looking, Sunset did come across one entry that struck her as a little unusual: A Compendium of Notable Weapons and their Deeds.

Now, it was possible that this was for a history assignment of some kind, but — while admittedly Doctor Oobleck wouldn’t have been teaching the course then, and Sunset didn’t know how whoever had held the chair then had approached the subject — it didn’t seem to fit with the way that history was taught at Beacon, albeit if this had been Haven Academy, she might have believed that it was for classwork.

But as this was Beacon, Sunset did not believe it. And besides, she recalled that it was Crocea Mors that had first started Crown D’Eath off upon his own search for the truth.

So Sunset sought out the book and counted herself fortunate that it was still in the library; judging by the amount of dust on it as she pulled it off the shelf — it made her sneeze a couple of times — it didn’t get read very often; it would have been just her luck if it had been got rid of.

She took it back to her table, opened it up from the back and scanned the index to find the entry for Crocea Mors.

Sunset had already know that Crocea Mors was the name of a famous sword: the sword of Jaune of Gaunt, fourth son of King Edward Farstrider — the king whom Olivia, of the eponymous song, had been in love with; in fact, according to legend, it was Olivia who had placed the sword in Jaune’s hand and knighted him.

Sunset had already known that. What she had not been expecting was to turn to the page and see a drawing that looked exactly like Jaune’s sword. Or at least, that looked exactly as Jaune’s sword had looked before it had been broken. The length, the shape, the hilt — the hilt was the most telling thing, to Sunset’s mind; swords might come in similar shapes and sizes depending on the type of sword they were, but you would expect hilts to have a little more variety about them. But this … she might have been looking at Jaune’s sword.

She was looking at Jaune’s sword: the sword of Jaune of Gaunt and the lately broken sword of Jaune Arc.

The illustration was accompanied by a potted biography which ended by concluding that the sword had been lost during the Anarchy that followed the death of King Aethelred.

Someone — and Sunset had a good idea who — had scrawled underneath the words In the family all this time.

So … Crown D’Eath discovers that Carrot’s sword has the same name as this famous blade, and he must have seen illustrations of the famous Crocea Mors before, and rushes off to confirm that they are — to his satisfaction, at least — the same weapon.

And this makes him try and break up Carrot and his Mistralian girlfriend and then go on a killing spree.

No, it makes him kill the girl and a Councillor.

And just like that, all the pieces fell together in Sunset’s mind.

Crown D’Eath, moody, bitter, obsessed with the past and with the lost glories of his noble family, Crown D’Eath who lamented the downfall of the monarchy, Crown D’Eath had killed one councillor and probably intended to kill others and create a power vacuum.

And he had murdered Delphi because she was not worthy to be consort to the rightful King of Vale.


Pyrrha remained upon the cliffs.

Yang had gone. With good fortune, she had gone to reconcile with Ruby, or at the very least, she had gone to wait for Ruby’s apology in a better frame of mind and heart than she had been in before.

In any case, she had gone, but Pyrrha remained.

She remained upon the cliffs, with her long red ponytail dancing behind her as the breeze blew in from the Emerald Forest, kissing her face and her bare shoulders.

She remained upon the cliffs and looked out, across the forest, across the world, and pondered upon her situation.

What could she do? What could she do about Phoebe and her allegations, about her feelings of … inadequacy, about all of this?

What could she do?

Phoebe — assuming it was Phoebe, and while she had not quite admitted as much, she could not be said to have gone out of her way to deny it either — had alleged these things about her. Kendal, Arslan, they had both asked Pyrrha what she intended to do about it, but … what could she do? Phoebe had admitted nothing, and even if she had admitted it, to challenge her … it could easily be thought to be the act of a guilty person.

A denial would be pro forma, expected.

What could she do then, save hope that those — like Ren and Nora — would judge her by her deeds and not the words of…?

Judge me by my deeds.

Pyrrha’s brow furrowed. Could it … could it be so simple? Had the answer been staring her in the face this entire time?

Have I been such a fool?

No, not a fool — although Sunset will call me a fool, no doubt, when she hears what I have in mind — say rather that I have been too little of a Mistralian to see the answer right before my eyes.

I have been … I have been too concerned to be ordinary, and yet, I am not ordinary. I am Pyrrha Nikos, and I have a claim upon the old ways if any have such.

And yet, for all that she could explain it, nevertheless, the answer seemed now to her so simple that she did feel a little obtuse for having missed it previously.

Or perhaps I was not desperate enough to take it previously.

Phoebe alleged that Pyrrha and Cinder were in cahoots, in league together, allies; Cinder haunted Pyrrha’s mind, the memory of their battle under Mountain Glenn had shaken her; many things had shaken Pyrrha; she was no longer certain that her skill at arms was sufficient to avail her in this great struggle.

What, then, to do? Why, bind them together and slice through the whole knot of them at once. Prove Phoebe wrong, prove to herself that she had a place in all this, exorcise Cinder from her spirit … and from life itself.

Jaune … she had already broken her promise to Jaune once.

But, if she spoke to him about it before she did it, he was sure that he would understand.

She had hope that he would understand.

At the same time, she was rather glad she hadn’t thought of this in Kendal’s presence, for she had a feeling that Jaune’s sister would not have understood.

If I am Pyrrha Nikos, I will triumph.

Pyrrha looked down. The cliff fell away beneath her, down and down to the forest below.

She was poised to leap from it, for what rewards awaited her on the other side.

Pyrrha turned away from the cliffs, turning her back upon the physical leap in favour of the spiritual, and got her scroll out of one of the pouches on her belt.

She called her mother. It took her but a few moments to answer.

“Pyrrha,” Mother said, “I did not expect to hear from you again so soon.”

“No, Mother, but I have had a thought,” Pyrrha said. “I would like you to cease your legal action against the Daily Remnant; a victory in the courts will convince no one.”

Mother’s eyes narrowed. “This insult must be answered.”

“And it will be, in the old way,” Pyrrha said. “I will answer these allegations, and much else, in a way that proves their falsehood beyond doubt.

“I mean to publicly challenge Cinder to single combat.”

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