SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Her Name Means Victory (New)

Her Name Means Victory

Night had fallen. The moon was up in all its shattered and fragmented glory, and that fragmented silver light shone down to glimmer upon Pyrrha’s armour.

Pyrrha stood upon the cliffs now, her hands clasped together in front of her, waiting.

Waiting for Arslan, in the most practical, pragmatic and immediate sense, but also waiting for the moment to depart.

Waiting for the battle that was to come.

Jaune was with her — naturally, since he would be coming with her — and so too were Sunset and Ruby, here at the cliffs to see her off.

There was no one else, for which — the absence of Arslan aside — Pyrrha was very thankful.

“She’s late,” Sunset remarked.

“Arslan will be here,” Pyrrha said quietly.

“What if she’s decided not to show up?” Sunset asked.

Pyrrha shook her head. “That isn’t her style; if she had changed her mind, she would have told me so before now.”

“I admit, she seemed like a good sort in the forest,” Sunset murmured. She paused for a moment, glancing away from Pyrrha, reaching up to scratch the back of her head with one hand. Her tail was limp, hanging loosely down between her legs, almost touching the grass beneath her feet.

“Listen, Pyrrha,” she said. “I … I feel like I owe you an apology.”

“Really?” Pyrrha replied. “For my part, I cannot think why.”

“No?” Sunset asked. “Come on, it can’t have … I mean … I wouldn’t want you to think that I don’t have faith in you. I’m afraid … I wouldn’t want it to seem like the reason I didn’t like this was because I thought you’d lose, because that’s not it.” She looked at Pyrrha now. “You’re the best fighter I know, and my best friend, and I absolutely believe in you, and I’ve always believed in you ever since you managed to beat me while I was going all out, so … if it comes down to it that only one of you is going to walk away from this in one piece, it’s going to be you, but … it’s just that … it’s just that you’re my best friend and—”

“Sunset,” Pyrrha said softly, yet firmly enough to cut her off before she could continue. “I understand.”

Sunset’s ears, which had begun to wilt like flowers deprived of water for too long, pricked up a little. “You do?”

Pyrrha nodded. “I admit that … it was a little vexing to me, especially since it seemed to confirm … everything. It’s true that I would have preferred a more full-throated expression of confidence, but … Nora had a word with me, earlier today; she explained that concern need not necessarily imply a lack of faith and that … that I should be charitable to those who loved me and not assume the worst of them.”

“Nora said that?” Sunset asked.

Pyrrha nodded.

Sunset snorted, and a little giggle escaped her.

“Is something funny?” Pyrrha asked.

“Not really,” Sunset admitted. “But it was Yang who told me that I needed to actually tell you that I believe in you, or you’d take my concern for lack of faith.”

Pyrrha let out a little laugh of her own. “I see. The ladies of Team Iron are as wise students of human nature as they are students here at Beacon.”

“Mmm,” Sunset murmured. “If they were keeping Blake, they would be … formidable indeed.” She paused for a moment. “So you understand, then? It was never … I know you can do this. I know your quality, your capability, but—”

“But you are aware of Cinder’s also, and aware too that, in battle, there is always an element of chance,” Pyrrha said. “I understand, and I thank you for your concern, but—”

“But now is not the time for doubt,” Sunset said. She walked towards her, her tail beginning to shake back and forth behind her as she went. “Now is the time to say,” she smirked a little, “that I am so very confident in your success that I’m going to go to bed as soon as you leap off this cliff and fall asleep with nary a care in the world.”

Pyrrha chuckled. “If you wish, I will not begrudge you your rest.”

Sunset reached out and took Pyrrha’s hands in her own. “You are our champion, just as I told you. You will always be our champion, and you will cut through any single foe who dares to stand against you. You will win.”

Pyrrha was silent a moment. “Is this … hard, for you?”

“Hard?”

“That I and Cinder—”

“No,” Sunset said firmly. “If it comes to a choice between you two … there is no choice. You are the one whose life matters to me, you are the one whose victory I desire, you are the one I would see with victory’s laurel upon your brow.”

Pyrrha was not certain that Sunset could be so certain as she sounded, but she appreciated the attempt at resolve nonetheless. It was what she needed to hear.

What she needed to believe.

“It is … strange,” Pyrrha murmured, “to think that this may — this will — be over soon.”

“'Over'?” Ruby asked.

“Cinder dead,” Pyrrha explained. “Cinder dead and her threat dead with her, banished from Vale.”

“But Salem will still be out there,” Ruby pointed out. “There’ll be other battles, other missions.”

“But not right now,” Jaune said, and as he spoke, he wrapped an arm around Pyrrha’s waist. “Not for a while, maybe, while she … finds some other Cinder who hates the world enough to try and destroy it, while she makes her plans, figures out what to do next.”

“Indeed, Mister Arc,” Professor Ozpin said, emerging out of the darkness. “Always, the shadow lengthens and grows again, but that does not mean that the effort to cut it down to size is not worth making or that the interludes of peace are not worth enjoying.”

Sunset let Pyrrha’s hands fall from her grasp. “Professor?”

“I hope you forgive the interruption,” Professor Ozpin said, a genial smile upon his face. He had one hand clasped behind him and the other resting upon the handle of his cane, which rested on the ground beside his foot. “I thought that I might come and see you off, Miss Nikos.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Pyrrha said. “I didn’t wish you to put you to any trouble.”

“No trouble at all, Miss Nikos; I often work late, in any event,” Professor Ozpin replied. “And this strikes me as the very least that I can do, in the circumstances. You are very brave to take this path.”

“This is my skill, Professor,” Pyrrha replied. “My glory, if I have such a thing to glory in. If I did not take this path, I would be not only unworthy of your service, but also unworthy of much else besides that … has turned out to be dear to me. I … I did not love my reputation until I began to contemplate what I might be without it.”

“You would yet be a brave girl, Miss Nikos,” Professor Ozpin assured her. “But, if you think your reputation, and your sense of self, is worth fighting for, then I will neither begrudge you nor call you mistaken. Every student at this school comes here for their own reasons, driven by their own motives, and those motives are all equally useful.”

“'Useful'?” Jaune asked.

“In driving the students to excel,” Professor Ozpin explained, “and to perform acts of gallantry and devotion.”

“So, when Pyrrha wins,” Ruby said, “you think that there’ll be … a break?”

Professor Ozpin nodded slowly. “It is the way, or at least, so it is recorded in the accounts that have come down to me from my predecessors. Salem will make some fresh attempt upon our defences, that attempt will be beaten back, and then there is a lull while Salem … regroups, replaces her losses, and as Mister Arc perceptively pointed out, decides where and when to strike again. Miss Nikos' victory will not release you from this battle — unless you wish to take your leave of it; you are not bound to it in perpetuity — but it will afford you breathing room, I hope, for a few years at least.”

“A few years,” Pyrrha murmured.

“The few years at school that we should have had without all of this stuff getting in the way,” Jaune said.

“Quite so, Mister Arc.”

“We could compete in the Vytal Festival without having to feel as though it was unimportant,” Sunset said. “Or that we were somehow slacking off by taking part in it.”

“And spend the next three years with only classes and grades to worry about,” Jaune added.

“And graduate,” Pyrrha said. “And only then, only once we had become true huntsmen and huntresses, would we even need to consider the possibility that Salem’s shadow might darken the world once again.”

“Perhaps not even then,” Jaune added.

“Indeed,” Professor Ozpin said. “Sometimes, whole generations can pass between one effort of Salem’s and the next. When one is immortal, I suppose one has the luxury of patience.”

“'Generations'?” Ruby asked. “So … so when Pyrrha wins, this might … it might be the last you need of us?”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far, Miss Rose; after all, Salem made no great offensive in your parents' time, but I still had need of their services; the shadow weakens, but it never disappears completely, and I am never completely without need of trusted agents whom I can rely on.”

“And you will be able to rely on us, Professor,” Pyrrha assured him, “but, all the same…” All the same, it sounded as though it would all so much more low-key; low-key and perhaps even low stakes. Well, comparatively, at least. It sounded as though they would have the peace to enjoy the remainder of their time at school together, and then to plan their futures with only minimal involvement from Professor Ozpin and his need of them. They might stay together as a team, and Pyrrha rather hoped they would, or else Ruby and Sunset would go their own way, and Pyrrha and Jaune would go to Mistral as they had discussed while babysitting Adrian, but either way, their choices would not be dictated for them by Salem’s threat.

It was … a liberating notion. Three years of fun and friends and laughter, three years with Jaune, three years with no shadow hanging over them, and then … who knew?

A golden world lay before them, and all she had to do was triumph tonight.

"Pyrrha!"

Pyrrha turned to see Arslan approaching at a jog, waving at her with one hand.

Pyrrha raised her own hand in greeting. "I told you she'd be here," she said mildly.

Sunset didn't reply, but then, she didn't really need to.

Arslan drew near, stopping just a few feet away from Pyrrha and the others. "Hey," she said. She paused as she noticed Professor Ozpin. "Professor. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"One of my students is about to descend and fight a battle against an enemy of mankind," Professor Ozpin observed. "Where else should I be but here to bid her farewell and good fortune?"

"Um," Arslan murmured. "To be honest, Professor, I'm a little surprised you're not trying to stop this. This isn't Mistral, after all."

"True," Professor Ozpin agreed. "But as the Vytal Festival draws ever closer, let me remind you that this is a time for the sharing of ideas, the experiencing of new customs, the mingling of cultures in an atmosphere of enthusiasm and curiosity. If I were to take a chauvinist line and insist that Vale knows best, well … that would be rather contrary to the spirit of the times, would it not?"

"I … suppose so."

Professor Ozpin chuckled. "My apologies, Miss Altan; when one has been a teacher for as long as I have, one can rarely resist the opportunity for a lesson. Of course, what I should really do is thank you for accompanying Miss Nikos tonight."

Arslan bowed from the waist. "A girl from the lower slope can have as much honour as a princess, if she wishes it." As she straightened up, she said to Pyrrha, "Sorry I'm a little late; everyone wanted to come and see you off, and it took me a little bit to persuade them not to."

"I see," Pyrrha said. "I appreciate that you did."

"I thought you might," Arslan replied. "I wouldn't have minded a crowd of well wishers, but that was never your style."

"Not since I began to doubt that they truly wished me well," Pyrrha said.

"That's a little unfair," Arslan said. "Everyone's rooting for you."

"Nevertheless," Pyrrha said, "the presence of my friends is all that I require."

She looked at them, Sunset and Ruby. "Sunset, Ruby, I—"

"With your shield," Ruby said.

Pyrrha smiled and nodded firmly. "With my shield."

Sunset was silent for a moment. "The hero must go," she said, "but the true hero must also return," — she smiled — "trailing clouds of glory."

"I do not know about whole clouds of glory," Pyrrha said, "but I shall wear laurel on my brow ere I return." Or I will not return. "I … you…"

"No goodbyes," Sunset said. "Just … go, and then come back again."

"No goodbyes," Pyrrha agreed. She turned then to her marshals. "Jaune, Arslan, are you ready?"

"Yep," said Arslan.

"I'm ready," agreed Jaune.

"Very well then," Pyrrha said, and the moonlight glinted on her circlet, making it shine upon her brow as she faced the cliffs and the long drop into the forest.

Pyrrha breathed deeply in and out, her chest rising and falling.

"Let us go, and either fall yielding glory to another or else win great glory for ourselves."

Pyrrha ran, dashing swiftly towards the cliffs before throwing herself off the edge in a great leap, arms spread out on either side of her as she fell downwards, speeding like an arrow loosed from the string, down and down into the darkness, down towards the forest.

The air buffeted her face, pressing at her cheeks as though it was trying to mould them like clay. Her crimson sash and vibrant red ponytail both alike streamed out behind her like banners in a cavalry charge. The trees rushed up towards her.

Pyrrha brought Akoúo̱ out from off her back and held in front of her face, using it to crash through the stout branches that lay in her path, slowing her descent with each obstacle she hit and shattered, battering her way down to the forest floor on which she landed, gracefully, upon her feet.

She slung her shield upon her back once more and ran both hands through her long ponytail, scraping out any twigs or branches that might have gotten lodged there.

She didn't want to appear before Cinder looking as though she'd been dragged through a hedge — even if she'd actually been dragged through a tree.

Jaune took a similar approach to herself, using his shield to break his fall and break his way through anything that stood between him and the ground, but he managed it with a little less grace, flopping down onto the forest floor on his face and belly.

"Jaune, are you alright?" Pyrrha asked as she rushed to his side.

"Yeah," Jaune murmured as he let Pyrrha help him to his feet. "I've got a lot of aura, remember?" He grinned. "And besides, I didn't need you to pin me to a tree this time, so that's an improvement in my book."

"What's this about a tree?" Arslan called down from above. She had buried her knife in the great trunk of one of the mighty trees and was now hanging from it by a rope tied around the hilt. As Pyrrha looked up, Arslan scurried back upwards, climbing up the rope while keeping her feet on the tree trunk, and freed her knife before jumping down to join the others.

"I'd be happy to tell you the story of our Initiation," Pyrrha said. "But perhaps not right now."

"No," Arslan murmured. "No, not right now."

"How's everyone's aura?" Jaune asked. "Does anyone need a boost?"

"Don't worry about me, but you should top up Pyrrha, since she's the one who has to fight tonight," Arslan said.

"I didn't lose very much," Pyrrha said.

"You should be at your maximum anyway," Jaune told her, placing his hand upon her shoulder as it began to glow with the rippling golden light of his semblance.

It poured over her, spreading across her bare shoulders, over her face, down her cuirass towards her legs and down her legs to the ground; it was a gentle, comforting sensation, like a shower that was not too hot, but just the right temperature to soothe and refresh as it washed off the sweat of a hard day's exertions.

It ended almost too soon for Pyrrha's liking, but then, she hadn't lost very much aura, after all.

They set out through the Emerald Forest, picking their way through the darkness — Pyrrha had brought a little torch with her, and Jaune a larger one; Arslan used the torch on her scroll — towards the coordinates that they had been given. At times, Pyrrha felt a sensation in her aura as though she was being watched, as though there was something out there in the dark, but no grimm troubled them; they were not assailed upon the way by beowolf or ursa, their approach to the location of the duel was completely uneventful. Not even a distant roar or howl disturbed them.

Until they reached the clearing specified, where the moonlight fell upon the glade through the gap in the trees, casting the space in pale, silvery light.

And there, in the clearing, illuminated by the moonlight, stood Cinder Fall.

"So," she said. "You have come."

---

Sunset stood upon the edge of the cliff, looking out across the forest as the moonlight bathed the trees.

She could not see Pyrrha down there, or Jaune; she couldn’t see anything but the trees, the trees which concealed all else which walked upon the world below.

Yet she stood there nonetheless and watched.

“Do you think…?” Ruby began, but then trailed off.

Sunset looked at her. “Do I think what?”

Ruby hesitated for a moment. “No, it doesn’t matter.”

“You’ve started now,” Sunset pointed out. “You may as well finish.”

Still Ruby hesitated for a moment, before she said, “Do you think we should go after them?”

Sunset kept her eyes on Ruby. “Go after them and…”

“And ambush Cinder,” Ruby finished. “We know where they are, where Cinder’s going to be; we could take her out.”

Sunset was silent for a moment. It was … tempting, honestly. As much as her feelings about Cinder’s death could be described as ambivalent, she had meant what she said to Pyrrha: when it came down to a choice between them, there really was no choice. She would not give up Pyrrha for Cinder. And so … yes, it was tempting: go down there, reach the clearing by a different route, interrupt the duel.

Dishonour herself, and what was far more, dishonour Pyrrha in the process.

“Have you spoken to Pyrrha about this idea?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Ruby admitted. “Pyrrha didn’t like it.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Sunset replied. “What happened to letting people make their own choices, even if you don’t agree with them?”

“This is … different,” Ruby said. “You asked me whether I’d respect Leaf’s choice if she was choosing to get a load of dust together and blow something up.”

“You said I was being ridiculous,” Sunset pointed out, “and Pyrrha isn’t threatening to blow anyone up either, so I’m not entirely sure what you’re implying.”

“Of course Pyrrha isn’t doing that,” Ruby said, sounding a little frustrated that Sunset hadn’t gotten her point, “but … Cinder might, if Pyrrha loses.”

“Pyrrha isn’t going to lose,” Sunset said.

“Pyrrha’s not around to hear anymore,” Ruby said. “You don’t have to pretend. It’s not an insult to Pyrrha to say that bad things can happen, even to the best.”

“Yes,” Sunset murmured. “They do. But … as tempting as it is, no. We’re not going to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because Pyrrha is our friend, and we’re going to have some faith in her,” Sunset insisted. “If we do as you suggest, yes, we might get Cinder, we might get everything that Professor Ozpin just promised us, but what is that going to say to Pyrrha? That we didn’t think she could do it? That we didn’t think she was up to the task? No, she has … told herself that often enough; we aren’t going to tell her that as well. This is what she wants; this is what she needs. And so, we are going to stay here, and we are going to wait for her return.”

“Miss Shimmer is correct, Miss Rose,” Professor Ozpin said. “And so, by the sounds of it — although I admit I may be missing something from the context of your conversation — were your initial instincts. Choice … is the greatest gift that the gods have bestowed upon mankind.”

“Even the choice to do evil, Professor?” Ruby asked.

“The gift of choice was given that mankind might choose between good and evil, Miss Rose,” Professor Ozpin informed. “The path of creation, or the path of destruction. Of course, we also have the choice to fight against evil, stop it from harming others, and that is precisely the choice that Miss Nikos has made. Though it may not be the optimal choice to achieve your desired ends, it is her choice and should be respected for all that.”

“Yes, Professor,” Ruby murmured.

“That being said,” Professor Ozpin went on, “I am not sure how much purpose there is in remaining here, upon this cold cliff, with nothing to see and nothing to do. If you would both care to come with me to my office—”

“No, thank you, Professor,” Sunset said, a touch of sharpness in her tongue. “With your permission, I would remain here. I will look for their coming from this cliff until they return.”

Professor Ozpin was silent for a moment. “I’m sure that it feels like an act of devotion on your part, Miss Shimmer, to wait, but … Miss Nikos will not know you waited, and it will afford her no advantage on the battlefield. Nothing will come from your discomfiting yourself but … your discomfort.” He paused for a moment. “I waited thus, the first times I sent agents out to do battle on my behalf, to go where I could not, to do what I could not; I bid them farewell, and then I remained where I had been as they departed, and I waited. Until I realised that it made no difference to the success or … failure of the mission; it helped them not, and it wasn’t helping me either. So now—”

“You go to bed, Professor?” Sunset asked.

Professor Ozpin smiled thinly. “No, Miss Shimmer. I still wait. I do not think that I could do otherwise, even if I wished to. But now, I wait in my office, where it is a little warmer. I worry, yes, I fret, I wait, I watch … but I do it all in just a little more comfort.”

Sunset considered his words. She regretted the sharpening of her tone earlier; she had not considered what ought to have been obvious, that Professor Ozpin had done this sort of thing many times before; it was not callousness that moved him to speak but a different sort of care.

Nevertheless, she was not sure that she could agree with him; maybe it would not help Pyrrha; in fact, it certainly wouldn’t help Pyrrha to stand here, on the cliff, watching and seeing nothing.

But it might help herself.

“I apologise for my tone, Professor,” Sunset murmured as she drew Soteria across her back and planted its point upon the grass of the cliff. “But I fear I cannot take your counsel. You may be right, but … without my own experience to teach me the wisdom of it, I fear that all I would feel is guilt.”

“I understand, Miss Shimmer,” Professor Ozpin said. “Perhaps it is one of those things that must be learnt practically. Matters of the heart are always the hardest things to learn from our elders. Very well then, Miss Shimmer, you shall remain here.” He planted his cane upon the ground. “And I shall wait with you.”

---

“So,” Cinder said. “You have come.”

Her bow was in her hands, the moonlight glinting off the polished black glass. Beyond the clearing, Pyrrha could just make out the figures of Emerald Sustrai and Lightning Dust, seeming almost to lurk in the darkness. They were Cinder’s marshals, she guessed.

Of course they are; who else is available to her?

Pyrrha strode into the clearing. “Did you expect that I would not come?”

“No, I thought you’d be here,” Cinder said. She smirked. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be glad you did.” She glanced past Pyrrha. “Jaune,” she said. “And … Arslan Altan, the Golden Lion of Mistral; I confess that I’m surprised to see you here.”

Arslan grunted wordlessly.

“They are your marshals, then?” Cinder asked.

“They are,” Pyrrha replied. “As I presume yours stand behind you.”

“They do,” Cinder said. She paused for a moment. “I cannot say I know who spread those lies about you, Pyrrha, but I must say I’m glad they did, seeing as it has brought us to this moment.” Her voice dropped, becoming barely more than a whisper. “I have dreamed of this moment.”

“I did not come here to bandy words with you,” Pyrrha declared, drawing Miló across her back. Her weapon shifted smoothly into rifle mode in her hands, clicking and snapping as it transformed, every part of the weapon shifting into place. She gripped it tightly but kept the barrel down, pointing towards the ground. “But to speak with my sword and listen with my shield.”

Cinder chuckled. “If that is how you feel … but are you sure that you don’t want to give Jaune one last kiss?”

“What need have I to kiss Jaune now?” Pyrrha asked. “I will give him many kisses once this duel is over, in the days and years we have to come.”

Cinder raised one eyebrow, but the smirk remained upon her face; in fact, Pyrrha even thought it grew a little, although whether that was because she was amused by Pyrrha’s response or she thought Pyrrha arrogant, Pyrrha could not have said for certain.

She began to walk, sidling across the clearing, moving in a circle that would have brought her onto Pyrrha’s side if Pyrrha had not begun to move as well. The two of them circled one another, like two proud bulls who have come across one another in the field. Neither one willing to give place to the other, they snort and strut upon the ground and paw the earth with their hooves and wait for the moment to lock horns.

No, she may be a bull, but I must be the lion that leaps down on the proud bull from the high rock and slashes it to pieces with my claws.

Cinder moved with a feline grace herself, crossing her legs as she sidestepped; the moonlight upon her glass slippers made them sparkle, as though they were made of diamond, not of glass.

Cinder’s gaze flickered to Arlsan. “What are you doing?”

Arslan had her scroll out, held up before her face. “I’m recording this, for proof that it happened.”

“Really?” Cinder purred, and she reached up with her free hand to primp her curled black hair.

“You’ve no objection?” Pyrrha said. It was not against the rules, but it was hardly done, and if Cinder objected to it, then it would be bad form to go ahead and do it anyway.

“Object? Oh no,” Cinder said. “Film away. To be honest, that was the one thing that would have been missing from this experience. I want the world to watch you die, Pyrrha Nikos; I want everyone to see you fall, at my hands, and know that I defeated you in clean combat because I am Mistral’s evenstar! I embody the spirit of our heroes’ past in ways you couldn’t even dream of.”

“Perhaps,” Pyrrha conceded. “Perhaps, in all your wrath, in your anger, in your desire to deal out death and destruction for nothing more than your own prestige, you do stand in direct line to the great heroes of old in ways that I do not, nor ever could. Very well then. I will yield that glory to you, for if I can be instead the morning star of a new Mistral, kinder and gentler and less self-absorbed, then that would please me better in any case.”

“'Self absorbed'?” Cinder demanded.

Pyrrha’s only response was to raise her eyebrows.

Cinder snorted. “You speak very prettily with your tongue for one who came to speak with spear and sword.”

“As do you,” Pyrrha murmured.

Cinder gave the slightest, almost imperceptible bow of her head. “Well then,” she said. “Here we are.”

“Yes,” Pyrrha agreed. “Here we are.”

They were silent for a moment, their eyes fixed upon one another.

Pyrrha could hear her heart thumping in her chest.

“I will make a bargain with you,” Cinder said. “Let us vow that whoever triumphs shall see that the loser receives an honourable burial.”

“I shall grant that to you, and gladly,” Pyrrha replied. “But for myself, I ask that if you send my soul down to the shades, you allow my body to be taken by my friends, that they may bear it homeward, to be laid to rest in my mother’s house alongside my ancestors.”

“Of course,” Cinder said. “I bear you malice, but I am not a barbarian to pursue my wrath beyond the grave.” She nocked an arrow to her bow. “Shall we begin?”

Pyrrha put her finger to the trigger of her rifle. “We shall.”

Cinder raised her bow. Pyrrha raised her rifle, firing her first shot before she had fully raised the rifle to her shoulder — it didn’t matter if her aim was poor; what mattered was that she get the first shot off before Cinder could loose an arrow. Her round thudded into the ground at Cinder’s feet, but Cinder shuffled her foot to avoid it and did not loose.

Pyrrha charged towards her, and as she charged, Miló now at her shoulder, she fired again, and a third time. She missed both times, as Cinder ducked and sidestepped away, but she did not loose an arrow.

And then there was no time as Pyrrha was on her.

Miló switched from rifle to sword in Pyrrha’s right hand as, with her left, she pulled Akoúo̱ from off her back onto the vambrace on her left arm. As she closed the distance with her foe, Pyrrha drew back her left arm and — as Miló completed its transformation — lashed out with Akoúo̱ like a discus in a sideways slashing stroke in a wide arc.

The blow struck Cinder’s bow clean in the middle, and as Cinder recoiled before it, the bow shattered into fragments of glass — fragments which reformed in the air into a pair of obsidian scimitars which flew, unerringly, into Cinder’s hands.

Cinder’s smile was savage as she leapt to the attack. Pyrrha strode forward to meet her, her expression set, determined.

Cinder slashed wildly with her right hand; Pyrrha took the blow on Akoúo̱, turning the stroke aside. She countered with a slash of her own aimed at Cinder’s neck, but Cinder parried with the sword in her left hand. Pyrrha drew back her sword, slashed again, Cinder parried again; a third time, Pyrrha’s sword swept down and beat on Cinder’s guard like a wave beating upon the sea wall, and a third time, the wall of Cinder’s guard took the blow without flinching.

A fourth time, Pyrrha drew back her blade, but this time, she tossed Miló lightly into the air, having first triggered its transformation from sword to spear, and while it spun, Pyrrha reversed her grip and thrust Miló down overarm like a thunderbolt to slam into Cinder’s collarbone.

Cinder spun around but recovered swiftly, turning the movement forced upon her into a graceful pirouette, flowing like water to face Pyrrha once again, both swords held above her head in a high guard.

Pyrrha charged for her. Cinder did not try to form her bow but rushed to meet Pyrrha. Pyrrha thrust underarm with her spear, aiming for Cinder’s belly. Cinder met the thrust with both her hands, striking Miló just below the head and turning it aside, before she reversed her right hand blade and slashed upwards with in a blow that would have sliced from Pyrrha’s navel up to her shoulder.

Again, Pyrrha took the blow upon Akoúo̱ and turned it aside. Cinder was open, but she leapt before Pyrrha could attempt to take advantage, jumping high up into the air, somersaulting over her head.

Pyrrha threw Akoúo̱ at her, the shield spinning like a disc as it cut through the air, but Cinder twisted in mid-air as nimbly as a salmon as she began to descend behind Pyrrha.

Pyrrha gripped Miló — still in spear mode — in both hands as she turned, thrusting it out as Cinder landed.

Cinder caught Miló between her glass scimitars, wedging it just below the point.

Pyrrha extended the spear, the point shooting out with a bang to strike Cinder the second time.

Cinder’s face twisted into a snarl of anger.

Good. Be angry; you’ll make more mistakes that way.

Miló spun in Pyrrha’s hand, and she plucked Akoúo̱ out of the air as it fell and slung it back across her back. She returned her free hand back to her spear, whirling it in her grasp as she slashed at Cinder with point and shaft in equal measure. Cinder fell back before her, but she parried every blow that Pyrrha sought to make; while she might not have been expertly tutored, her natural speed made up for it in most respects.

Yet she fell back, nevertheless.

She fell back, and her guard faltered, leaving an opening for Pyrrha.

An egregious opening; that is a trap.

Pyrrha did not take the bait, not striking for the opening but rather, halting her assault, retreating a pace with her guard up.

Cinder counterattacked, slashing with both her swords in parallel. Pyrrha parried with the shaft of Miló, but now it was Cinder’s turn to go on the offensive, slashing wildly, hurling stroke after stroke at Pyrrha. She was like a hurricane; the air seemed to howl with the swift onrushing passage of her arms; she was so fast and so strong that Pyrrha’s arms jarred from taking blow after blow, Miló shuddering from the force.

But if Cinder was the hurricane, then Pyrrha was the mountain; Pyrrha was Mistral itself, unmoving, her defence holding firm against all the assaults that Cinder could make upon it. Cinder was swift, too, terribly so, but she was also deeply obvious; at no point could Pyrrha fail to spot where her attack was coming from and, in seeing, block it.

Pyrrha retreated in the face of Cinder’s onslaught, just enough to open sufficient breathing room to fling Akoúo̱, sending her shield flying around Cinder in a wide arc. Cinder seemed to ignore it, continuing to hurl herself on Pyrrha in a furious flurry of slashing strokes.

Akoúo̱ began to fly back towards her, and a black outline formed around Pyrrha’s left arm as she guided the shield to strike Cinder in the small of the back.

Cinder leapt before the shield could strike. Pyrrha reached out to grab her shield before it could strike her.

Cinder landed atop of Akoúo̱, balancing on one foot upon the shield as, with the other foot, she kicked Pyrrha in the face.

Pyrrha’s head was thrown backwards, her jaw aching as her aura flared in pain. She leapt backwards, backflipping once, then twice, grabbing Akoúo̱ as she landed, flipping her long ponytail out of her face as she looked up into Cinder’s face.

Cinder who had already formed her twin scimitars back into a bow and had an arrow nocked and pointed at her.

Pyrrha charged at her, Akoúo̱ held before her.

Cinder loosed the glass arrow. It soared through the air for Pyrrha.

Pyrrha struck it mid-flight with the edge of Akoúo̱, shattering into tiny shards of glass, shards over which she trampled as she continued to rush towards Cinder.

Cinder smirked.

Pyrrha triggered Miló’s switch from spear mode into sword, and as it changed, she flung it into the air, spinning like a baton, while she gripped Akoúo̱ with both hands. As she charged, she spun on her toes, her red sash whirling around her as she turned to meet the glass arrow, reformed, that was racing towards her back. She took the arrow on her shield, knocking it aside, before she turned again, her sash wrapping itself around her waist, and with both hands, she slashed at Cinder.

Cinder’s bow crumbled in her hands as with both hands she grabbed Akoúo̱ and held it fast — though if she didn't suffer some loss to her aura in the process, Pyrrha would be astonished. Remembering Cinder's ability to manipulate the glass even when it was not fashioned into weapons, Pyrrha leapt away, grasping Miló by the hilt as it fell — gently guided by a touch of Polarity — into her hands.

Cinder threw Akoúo̱ back at her, but Pyrrha caught it on her arm, fitting it neatly there.

She faced Cinder, knees bent, body crouched low, shield held before her, and sword raised.

The black glass reformed in Cinder's hands, fashioning not the bow but the twin scimitars.

You might have done better to have tried the bow again.

Cinder charged at her, arms pounding. Pyrrha ran to meet her, moonlight glinting off her gilded armour.

Cinder slashed with the sword in her right hand, but her stroke was short, far too short for the length of her blade; she had not closed the distance sufficiently. Pyrrha's mind was already on her next steps; she would switch Miló from sword to spear and take advantage of the—

The blade in Cinder's left and dissolved into shards of glass, which flowed like water through the air to join with the sword in her right, forming a two-handed sword long enough to reach across the distance and slash Pyrrha across the belly just above the midriff.

Pyrrha retreated back a step.

Cinder's smile was bright as a knife. "You're not the only one who can play that trick, Pyrrha."

Pyrrha did not reply and kept her face expressionless. I cannot match her anger; therefore, I cannot let her make me angry. The moment I match my fury against hers, I am lost.

I must be virtue, and I must be calm.

But it was a mistake to assume she only had two weapons.

Cinder looked a little disappointed by the lack of a response, a pout forming momentarily upon lips painted as black as the night in which they fought. She attacked, her greatsword swinging for Pyrrha's head in a wide arc, a powerful stroke — with the way she had drawn her sword right back, she would take Pyrrha's head off if she struck without her aura — but obvious, verging upon clumsy. As Cinder swung, Pyrrha ducked beneath the incoming blow, spinning upon her toes with the grace of a ballerina as she pirouetted behind Cinder, slashing at her back with Miló in swift precise strokes once, twice, staggering Cinder before she reversed her grip and thrust her blade into the small of Cinder's back.

Cinder was already stepping forward away from the blow, but Pyrrha's thrust struck home nevertheless, if not as powerfully as she might have wished. Cinder turned, whirling on Pyrrha with another slashing stroke. Pyrrha parried, and then she parried the next blow too. Cinder slashed at her again, and this time, Pyrrha turned the blow aside with Akoúo̱.

Half of Cinder's sword dissolved, the fragments of glass flying like a swarm of flies all around Pyrrha's shield to attack her, biting and tearing at her aura like a shoal of piranhas sensing blood in the water.

Pyrrha ignored the damage to her aura — and the pricks of pain that she could feel through it — blocking a stroke by Cinder that sought to take advantage of her distraction. She leapt back, somersaulting in mid air, as her legs carried her out of the glassy swarm, and then no sooner had she landed than she leapt again, leaping up before either the glass or Cinder could pursue her.

She let Akoúo̱ go but used polarity to hold it in mid-air, providing a platform for her to stand on.

Miló flowed from sword to rifle in her hands as Pyrrha snapped off her last two shots at Cinder, who parried them both with the greatsword that reformed in her hands.

Akoúo̱ tilted, pointing downwards towards Cinder like a mirror trying to focus moonlight down upon her. Pyrrha kept her feet anchored to the shield with polarity so that she did not fall.

Rather, she jumped, Miló flowing from rifle to spear in her hands as she hurled herself bodily, like a bolt from heaven, down on Cinder.

Cinder swung at her with her greatsword as Pyrrha approached, but Pyrrha parried the blow aside with Miló before she struck Cinder, shoulder slamming into Cinder's midriff, arms wrapping around Cinder's waist, and bore her to the ground with a crash.

Pyrrha kept her arms round Cinder as she rolled, so that she was on the ground and Cinder was above her, then rose to her feet.

Cinder flailed in Pyrrha's embrace, grabbing Pyrrha by the bare shoulders. Pyrrha could feel her shoulders heating up, but she focussed past it as she hoisted Cinder in the air, grunting somewhat at the effort, then arched her back backwards as far as spine and cuirass would allow to slam Cinder face first into the earth.

Pyrrha dumped her there, to land upon her face and belly, before she knelt on Cinder's back and wrapped her right arm round Cinder's neck and started to choke.

Cinder thrashed like a fish torn from the river, grabbing Pyrrha's forearm with her hand. Pyrrha could feel the heat upon her arm, feel it getting hotter and hotter, as though she had laid her arm upon a stove and someone had turned it on, but she did not relent. She would not allow herself to relent. She could bear this pain; her aura could bear this heat; no matter how much it hurt, her grip would not weaken.

She would outlast Cinder; she had to outlast Cinder.

The heat increased, hotter and hotter; every instinct screamed at Pyrrha to pull her arm away, but she hung on, even as the glow from Cinder's palm became so bright as to make her want to look away, even as she began to wince from the pain she hung on.

Cinder growled and snarled wordlessly, like an animal caught in a trap from which it is desperate to escape. She slammed her free hand into the ground, digging her fingers into the soil.

The earth around her hand began to glow, the yellow-gold light rippling out around it.

Pyrrha's eyes widened. Surely she wouldn't—

The earth exploded, hurling both Pyrrha and Cinder up into the air along with countless clods of earth which erupted upwards all around them. Pyrrha spun around, hurled head over heels by the blast, unable to focus as the world whirled all around her, moon and trees and red hair dancing into her vision and then out again.

She blinked rapidly, fighting to clear her head. Steady her mind, steady herself. She flung her arms out on either side of her, arms wreathed in sable blacker than the night around, and summoned Akoúo̱ to her. The shield flew to her, obedient to her command, rising up beneath her feet to provide a footing for her to stand while she held the shield suspended in the air with Polarity.

Her fall arrested, she looked for Cinder; she did not have to look very hard as Cinder rose to meet her, standing upon a platform of her own, a little disc of glass which bore her up until she, too, floated in the air, only slightly below Pyrrha.

She looked ragged, unkempt, her hair a mess, her face and red dress stained; Pyrrha guessed that she herself didn't look much better.

Just as she doubted that either of them had a vast amount of aura left.

Which gives us both reason to want this ended quickly.

Pyrrha summoned Miló to her hand, switching it fluidly into sword mode; Cinder conjured a single scimitar out of glass.

Cinder's teeth were bared in a bestial snarl.

This pass will decide, I can feel it.

"I will not lose to you, Pyrrha Nikos!" Cinder roared. "Death at your hands is not my destiny!"

"And I do not choose to fall at yours," Pyrrha whispered. "I choose not to lose, because…"

"I believe in you."

Jaune.

"No goodbyes."

Sunset.

"Come back with your shield, okay?"

Ruby.

"I envy you."

Blake.

"Win one for Mistral."

Arslan. Everyone.

"Because I have people waiting for me," Pyrrha declared. "And so my destiny goes on, for them."

They leapt at one another, swords drawn back, free hands outstretched. Cinder roared with anger; Pyrrha was as silent as the grave. Cinder rose, and Pyrrha fell.

For a moment, they seemed to hang, suspended in the air though they had left both glass and shield behind, reaching for one another, poised to strike.

Pyrrha grabbed at Cinder's outstretched wrist, pulling it, twisting it, wrenching Cinder off her precarious airborne balance. Cinder's stroke went wide; Pyrrha's struck home across Cinder's shoulder as they began to fall.

Down they fell, locked together, spinning in the air as their blades clashed, both of them slashing and hacking at one another, the red-gold and the glass blade clashing with one another, crashing together like thunderclaps.

And as they fell, the gazes of Pyrrha Nikos and Cinder Fall did not leave one another's eyes; their swords clashed upon instinct while their eyes locked as though each sought to burn away the other with the power of their gaze.

Pyrrha let go of Cinder, curling up to roll in the air and with both feet lashed out, kicking Cinder down towards the ground.

She summoned Akoúo̱ after, sending it slamming into Cinder's midriff to drive her into the earth so hard, the ground itself shattered.

So did Cinder's aura, an amber glow rippling over her body as she lay in the crater she had made within the earth. Only the slightest movement showed that she yet lived.

Pyrrha landed a few feet away, summoning Akoúo̱ onto her left arm.

I have not much more Polarity in me, Pyrrha thought. She was starting to feel a little tired already, her arms heavier than they had been.

No matter. Cinder's aura was broken. She had won.

I won. I won! She could … she could believe it, but at the same time … she had feared that she would not be equal to this challenge. She had feared to have her fears proven right. She had feared that she would end at Cinder's feet, at Cinder's mercy, looking up at her enemy as Cinder taunted one who had presumed to a greatness she did not possess.

She had feared to be nothing more than a showgirl, fit perhaps to entertain a crowd, but for serious work, Professor Ozpin's work? Useless, unworthy, unequal to the challenges that lay before them.

But she had won. She had beaten Cinder Fall. Salem's champion lay before her. Yes, she could not defeat Salem, but she could best her greatest servants, and that was as much as anyone could do.

That … would suffice.

I have worth. I have a place in all of this.

And yet, once I put an end to Cinder, there will be little 'this' for me to have a place in.

And that, itself, will be all to the good.

She began to bear down on Cinder but was immediately pulled up short by the roar of a grimm.

An ursa major advanced out of the woods on her left, crushing the trees beneath its massive feet, shoving them aside to make way for its great, bulky, armoured form; a moment later, another emerged from the right, both of them massive, elder grimm, their backs studded with massive spikes of bone as long as lances jutting out of their black, oily flesh. They growled, their paws — with claws as long as Miló's sword form emerging out of them — swaying slightly as they lumbered forwards.

Pyrrha stepped back, bringing her shield up, preparing to rush the one on the right before the two of them could—

"No!" Cinder yelled. "Emerald, enough!"

"But…" Emerald murmured. "But you'll—"

"If that is my fate," Cinder whispered. "Enough."

The ursai disappeared, vanishing from sight as though … no, because they had never been.

Cinder groaned as she rose, slowly and unsteadily to her feet. "Forgive her," she said. "Our Mistral ways seem hard and strange to outsiders."

"Indeed," Pyrrha said softly.

Cinder groaned again and winced as she picked up her glass scimitar off the ground. She straightened up, gripping the blade with both hands as the moonlight glimmered upon it.

She looked at Pyrrha, only one eye visible, the other concealed beneath her bedraggled-looking hair.

With a great shout, Cinder charged, her bright blade swinging.

Pyrrha parried easily with Miló, the two blades clashing once again, and as they clashed, Cinder's glass sword shattered into fragments. Fragments which did not reform, which did not assail Pyrrha, fragments which simply fell to earth and lay there, unmoving, harmless.

Cinder staggered backwards, looking at the broken stump of a sword in her hand. She lowered her hands to her side for a moment, then raised her arms a little out again on either side of her.

"Glory to you, Pyrrha Nikos," she murmured, a weariness in her voice.

Pyrrha said nothing as she switched Miló from sword to spear, resting the tip of the spear upon her shield as she drew back to smite Cinder on the chest.

The beowolf howled as it emerged out of the darkness of the trees, red eyes burning like coals as it leapt at Pyrrha. She half thought that this was another of Emerald's illusions, but nevertheless, Pyrrha turned on instinct, driving her spear into the beowolf's chest.

Its real chest, into which she buried Miló for a few seconds before the grimm disappeared to smoke and ash. Another beowolf charged into the clearing from behind her, but Pyrrha reversed Miló to skewer that grimm in its turn.

"What the—?" Arslan shouted, but her shout was cut off as she was distracted by the beowolf that stuck its head out of the thicket to snarl into her face. Arslan hit it so hard that the bony face of the beowolf exploded into ashes, but more of them came, beowolves and ursai pouring into the clearing.

Jaune drew his nearly reforged sword and held his shield before him.

Pyrrha glared at Cinder. Was this your plan all along?

But Cinder's eyes were wide, shaking her head a little from side to side. Her lips moved, but amidst the howling and the growling of the grimm, Pyrrha could not hear the words which fell from them.

Pyrrha charged at her. Grimm or no, plan or no, cheat or no, ambush or no, Cinder's aura was still broken; Pyrrha could still end this. She cast her spear, hurling Miló through the air towards Cinder who stood still, frozen in place, making no move to evade the spear.

A beowolf leapt through the air, taking Pyrrha's spear squarely in its chest, dying as the force of Miló hurled it backwards, turning to ashes which passed over Cinder. More grimm filled the space between them, a black tide separating Pyrrha from her enemy as the alpha beowolf, twelve feet tall and covered with plates of bleach, bone armour, protruded with sharp white spikes, loped up to Cinder and bent down to snatch her up in its jaws. Cinder twitched in pain, but other than that, she yet was still as the alpha turned and began to carry her away.

"No!" Pyrrha yelled, rage and frustration mingling in her voice as she fought her way through the grimm with Akoúo̱, using the sharp edges of her shield like a discus, cutting through heads and limbs, striking down beowolves as she sought to pursue the alpha, even as the great beowolf exited the clearing.

Emerald seemed as surprised as Cinder had looked, just as frozen, but Lightning Dust grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away after the alpha beowolf.

Pyrrha recovered Miló and, with it, carved a swift and deadly swathe through every grimm that crossed her path. An ursa major barred her path, but Pyrrha hurled herself upon it, switching Miló from spear to sword in her hand. It lashed out at her with one monstrous paw, but Pyrrha turned the blow aside with Akoúo̱, then sliced off that paw with a single swift stroke. Miló switched form sword to spear again as the ursa howled in pain, and Pyrrha twirled it in her grasp, slashing at the ursa's chest, striking at every gap or chink in its armour. Bellowing in frustration, the ursa dropped down onto all fours, lunging at her with its great jaws, but Pyrrha darted nimbly aside and — switching to sword once again — cut off its head.

She did not stay to watch it die but plunged into the forest, uncaring that she could not see the alpha beowolf, uncaring that he did not know exactly where it had gone, running through the darkness and the trees in hope that she could catch up to them and then…

And then…

And then, with the little aura she had left, confront Emerald and Lightning Dust, with their intact aura, as well as who knew how many grimm?

And then plunge into an ambush in the darkness.

I will suffer worse than Cinder's fate, if I let this make me heedless.

Pyrrha came to a stop, eyes searching the darkness for any sign that she had left it too late to remember sense and walked into an ambush already.

She saw none, and no sign of her quarry either.

"Pyrrha?" Jaune called out, from somewhere behind her. "Pyrrha?"

"I'm here!" Pyrrha shouted back. "I'm here, Jaune, ahead of you."

It did not take long for Jaune and Arslan to catch up with her, preceded by the light of their torches shining into her face.

Jaune's expression was grave. "Cinder?"

"Gone," Pyrrha said. "I lost her. I … judged it best not to risk pursuing her in the dark, with Emerald and Lightning still fresh."

"Emerald and Lightning?" Arslan repeated. "Emerald and Lightning are the … Pyrrha, what in all the rivers of the underworld was that?"

"I … don't know," Pyrrha lied, though it pained her to do so. "There is … much about the grimm that remains a mystery to us."

"Including carrying people off alive?" Arslan demanded. "Has that ever happened before?"

"We're as confused as you are," Jaune assured her.

Arslan huffed. "Do you think they'll eat her?"

"We can only hope," Pyrrha muttered, although in truth, she felt she could be better than reasonably certain that they would not, more was the pity.

Jaune reached out to put a hand on Pyrrha's shoulder. "You were amazing back there," he said. "How do you feel?"

Pyrrha raised her head ever so slightly to look up at him, a smile spreading across her lips. "I won," she declared, quietly, but with pride nonetheless. "I defeated her, alone, in clean combat beneath the auspices of victory. I won, and her escape cannot take that away from me."

And the next time our paths cross she will not escape.

Author's Note:

Art by Sae

Comments

[Kiue Jin]

Cinder might be mad that she didn't get the death that she would accept... but that's going to pale in comparison to Salem's fury for trying to throw her life away.

[Snowdrifter]

So, Sonata or Tempest let Salem know, possibly through Watts, including where and when the duel would happen. Salem positioned some grimm handy so she could see what occured, and to prevent a pawn from being removed early in the game.

Cinder lives - but methinks she won't enjoy it.
Not.
One.
Bit.

[Mastermind4892]

HAIL TO THE VICTOR! VICTORY TO PYRRHA NIKKOS! LET THE BELLS RING IN GLADNESS!

Oh, what an amazing battle and equally stunning artwork! Magnificent! On this night and on this battle, more than any other, Pyrrha has truly proved herself worthy of the title of Invincible Girl.

This was a victory on every possible front! Pyrrha's faith and confidence in herself renewed. The footage will dispel nearly all rumors and elevate her further (a victory of prestige that she will feel she can bask in). Cinder Fall may not be dead, but she is broken. In all her most private moments to come, Cinder's ego will not let her forget this. Her confidence and delusions are shattered in the purest language she accepts. How can she be this world's nemesis if she can't defeat Pyrrha without using the power of a demi-god? Anyone could win with that kind of power, so now she will ask herself what makes her so special. And we all saw it: she tried. Cinder broke her own rule and tried to break free of Pyrrha's grip with magic.

And the cherry on top of all this? Salem's faith in Cinder is now damaged irreparably, as is Cinder's own devotion to Salem for this 'interference'.

EDIT: No one can blame Pyrrha for the Grimm's interference in the duel. Grimm interference is something that all of Remnant is used to. They even demonstrated this during the Great War, when all the armies would call for a ceasefire whenever the Grimm tried getting involved in their battles.

[Lancerguy]

That ended about the only way it could have, but the fight was still worth it. That was probably the best 1v1 in this story that had the right balance of action and emotion, and it kept me invested even with little doubt to how it would end. Great art to go with an dit was well worth the short delay on this chapter to get.

Now, is this where the first crack begins to develop between Cinder and Salem, and how far will it spread?

[Adser]

11454071
Uh no? The heating of her hands, even to the point of being explosive, is just her semblance, there is no evidence that she actually used magic on this fight. That said, it is still ego-shattering so the end result is the same.

[ButtonMash]

The setup to this made such an ending anticipatable, but it does not change how much the combatants will remain reeling. The ego, shattered, and another line of questioning that may yet lead to clearer understanding.

[dittomute]

its still a little sad that all this retconning hasn't added much to what was before w/ few exception.
i guess it's still passably entertaining.

[Aleck_Ultimate]

"No goodbyes," Sunset said. "Just … go, and then come back again."

"No goodbyes," Pyrrha agreed.

Obviously, Tex Caroline Pyrrha does not like "goodbye".

[Raul]

Sometimes, dead is better.

[Stet709]

Salem saved Cinder only to punish her later.

At least Pyrrha won the fight though, right?

I also want to add: Really, Emerald? You didn't trust Sunset not to intervene, but you intervene yourself? Freaking hypocrite...