SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Wintry Conversation (New)

Wintry Conversation

“So,” Sunset said, “I have to admit first of all that the main reason I’m here is because I need Twilight’s help with something.”

Twilight pushed her glasses back up her nose. “My help? With what?”

“Saving a life,” Sunset replied.

“Is someone sick?” asked Spike from where he sat in Twilight’s lap.

Sunset’s eyebrows rose. “It’s going to take me some time to get used to the fact that you can do that.”

“It’s your fault that he can do that,” Rainbow pointed out.

“I know,” Sunset said aggrievedly. “It doesn’t mean that I find it normal.”

“Don’t dogs talk where you come from?” Spike asked.

“Not those kind of dogs,” Sunset replied, whatever that meant. Maybe they had special magic dogs that could talk and fly and Rainbow just hadn’t seen any when she was there.

“You come from a world of magical ponies,” Blake said. “I’m not sure that there’s much ‘of course’ about it.”

“Speaking of things that will take some time to get used to,” Ciel murmured.

“The times change, and we must change with them,” Midnight declared as her holographic avatar appeared above Twilight’s scroll where it sat on the desk that ran along the wall. Midnight appeared to be suspended about half an inch above the device, floating there. “If we do not move with the times and the demands that they place on us, we will stagnate and die.”

“Um … yeah, thanks for that,” Rainbow said. She cleared her throat. “So … is somebody sick?”

“Wounded might be a better word for it,” Sunset replied. She paused for a moment. “Her name is Amber, and she’s the Fall Maiden.”

Sunset stood in the middle of the RSPT dorm room at Beacon. Penny wasn’t there — she was with the other members of Team SAPR — but Blake was, leaning against the wall, one leg cocked up so that her foot was braced against the plasterwork. Rainbow sat on Twilight’s bed, with Twilight sat beside her and Spike sitting in Twilight’s lap.

Ciel sat on the other side of the room, legs together and hands in her lap. As Sunset spoke, her brow furrowed.

“'Fall Maiden'?” she asked. “You say that as though she would be familiar with the concept.”

Sunset’s eyebrows rose as she looked at Rainbow Dash. “You haven’t told her yet?”

“We’ve all been busy,” Rainbow replied defensively.

“Told me what?” Ciel asked. “Have you been keeping me in the dark?”

“No,” Rainbow insisted. “It’s just that you weren’t in Atlas when we found out, and then the right time to tell you never came up.”

“It appears to have come up now,” Ciel pointed out. “If only by necessity.”

“Right, yes, you’re right about that,” Rainbow admitted. She patted her hands on her knees. “Okay, where to begin … how much do you know about fairy tales?”

“I have read them to my brothers, when they were younger,” Ciel said. “Or when they are young still, in some cases. I believe they inspired Aurelien; his own writing is very clearly influenced by that style.”

“Really?” asked Midnight. “Do you have any examples that I could look at?”

Ciel looked at her. “You wish to … read my brother’s stories?”

“Am I not allowed my curiosity?” asked Midnight.

“I suppose you are,” Ciel allowed. “Although I would not have thought a computer program would enjoy fiction.”

“On the contrary, when you can calculate and process at superfast speeds, one comes to appreciate distractions,” Midnight said.

“Ahem,” Sunset said.

“Cover your mouth,” Midnight said sternly. “What is his favourite story, if I may ask?”

“Aurelien? The Girl in the Tower,” Ciel said. “He enjoys the … metatextual aspects of it, the way the heroine writes herself into a fairy story by employing the tropes of the genre to manipulate her own life.”

“What about the Story of the Seasons?” asked Sunset.

“Alain is rather fond of that one,” Ciel answered. “I quite like it myself, its sensibility … it has echoes of our faith and of how the Lady teaches us that we should treat the elderly and the lonely.”

She paused for a moment, glancing at the watch she wore on her wrist. It was new; Rainbow hadn’t seen her wearing it until recently, until they were on the flight back to Vale from Atlas. It was one of a few new watches that Ciel had started wearing — or at least that Rainbow had first seen Ciel start wearing — on the flight back to Vale from Atlas. They were all similar, small and compact but not completely plain, with little decorations on them and suchlike. The one she was wearing today was gold, although Ciel seemed to prefer the silver one, or at least, she seemed to wear it more than the others.

Rainbow was ninety percent sure that they were the watches that had belonged to the old lady in Mantle, not least because she was sure the wooden box under Ciel’s bed was the same box that they’d taken from the old lady’s killer. The ten percent doubt was only because she hadn’t confirmed it with Ciel yet.

It wasn’t an easy question to ask: nice watches; are they the ones someone was murdered over?

Still, she was pretty sure. It must have meant a lot to old Mrs. Peterson, Ciel coming around like she did, for her to have left her anniversary gifts to Ciel the way that she had — it was the only explanation for why she had them; it was possible the woman’s relatives had given them away, but less likely. Rainbow didn’t even know if the old woman had had any relatives.

No, it was more plausible to her that Ciel had been left them, which meant that her company must have meant a lot to the old woman.

I can see why the story of the Maidens would appeal to you in that case.

Although it occurred to Rainbow Dash that if the old man had stuck to leaving the four sisters with a box of watches or the like by way of thanks, then…

Then Twilight would be dead.

Rainbow’s hand strayed to Twilight’s arm, taking her by the wrist. No, no matter how much trouble might have been caused by the Maidens and their magic, their existence was worth it if it meant that Twi was here too.

Ciel’s fingers strayed to the watch on her wrist, her fingertip brushing against it before she said, “I take it that this is your attempt to get things back on topic, and that it is the Story of the Seasons that is of some relevance to all of this?”

“It’s true,” Rainbow said bluntly.

Ciel looked at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“It’s a true story,” Rainbow repeated. “The old man, the four sisters … the only part that isn’t true is that the four sisters didn’t become immortal. They died, but they passed their powers on to other girls. We don’t know how but—”

“We do now,” Sunset said. “The powers go to the last person in the Maiden’s thoughts before they die.”

“'Maiden'?” Ciel repeated. “That is the name for these … inheritors? The descendants, as it were, of the four sisters.”

“It is,” Sunset agreed.

“I see,” Ciel murmured. She paused for a moment. “So, there was an old man who possessed great magical power, and he bestowed it upon four sisters in … some time long ago.”

“That’s about the size of it, yeah,” Rainbow said.

“As a reward for the virtue they had displayed,” Twilight added.

“Quite a reward,” Ciel murmured. “You are certain of this? May one ask how?”

“Ozpin confirmed it,” Sunset said.

“Don’t you usually call him Professor Ozpin?” asked Twilight.

“And I will probably do so again in future, but right now, I don’t really feel like according him that level of respect,” Sunset muttered.

“So magic has existed from ancient times to now?” Ciel asked.

“Just like the stories suggest,” Twilight said. “If you know how to read between the lines.”

“Indeed,” Ciel said. “I suppose you were quite pleased to learn of all this.”

Twilight chuckled. “I was … I wasn’t sorry to find it out, let’s put it like that.”

Ciel nodded. “So, Team Sapphire discovered this, and you shared it with Blake and with every member of Team Rosepetal but myself?”

“You weren’t around!” Rainbow cried.

“You could have called.”

“Would you really have wanted to talk about this on the scroll?” asked Rainbow. “Besides, your brothers might have heard — or Neon.”

“That … is a fair point,” Ciel admitted. “Although I do wish that Neon knew the truth, I dislike keeping secrets from her.”

“Then tell her,” Sunset said.

Ciel’s eyebrows rose. “No,” she said. “No, I could not do that. General Ironwood has not authorized it, and if he wished to do so, he could tell her himself, which means that he does not wish her to know.”

“And?”

“And I have no desire to defy the General’s wishes in this,” Ciel replied. “I trust his judgement on to whom the circle of knowledge should extend.”

“Then maybe you should leave the room; I don’t have permission to tell you about some of this,” Sunset said blithely.

“Then perhaps you should keep silent,” Ciel countered.

“Perhaps I should,” Sunset said. “But I won’t.”

She paused a moment. “I met Ruby’s uncle today, Ozpin’s field agent.”

“Qrow, isn’t it?” Blake said. “What’s he like?”

“His breath reeks,” Sunset muttered. “And he didn’t seem too fond of me or Pyrrha, or your General either, for that matter. But he said something to me, to both of us, to me and Pyrrha when we went up to see him. He said that this … this thing that we’re in, this battle, it kills some people and it breaks others.”

She shoved her gloved hands into her jacket pockets. “And you know … I can’t help wondering if the reason why some people are broken by this … I can get it, I can absolutely get it, I understand why … it’s a lot, I think we all know that, it’s a lot to take in. A lot to carry. But my point is, I wonder if the reason why it breaks some people isn’t so much that they’re weak but that they didn’t have enough people to turn to, people to count on, people to whom they could unburden themselves, who could support them when the going got tough.”

Rainbow tightened her grip on Twi’s wrist, then immediately loosed it again as soon as she realized what she was doing. What Sunset was saying made a lot of sense, it made perfect sense, in fact. It would be nice, it would be better than nice, it would be great to be able to tell Applejack everything, and … yeah, yeah, it would be nice to tell everyone everything, even Pinkie and Rarity and Fluttershy, even though they weren’t huntresses and had no cause to get involved in any way. It would just be nice to be able to tell them what she knew, to be able to share it. To share it and have them understand what she was going through.

It would be nice, but it would also be selfish, because it would share Rainbow’s burden by putting it on her friends, and that … Rainbow didn’t wish it on them. Certainly, she didn’t wish it just so she could feel better. And that was what Sunset was proposing, really; yes, she was proposing it for better reasons, for sensible reasons, but all the same, she was talking about putting the weight on your friends to make it easier for you.

“Then make the argument to General Ironwood or Professor Ozpin,” Ciel said. “Not to me. As for the secrets that you ought not—”

“I may not have explicit permission, but I do have it implicitly,” Sunset replied. “Ozpin has approved this thing that I need Twilight’s help with.”

“The saving of the Fall Maiden’s life?” Twilight asked.

“Precisely,” Twilight agreed.

“The current possessor of one fourth of the magic that has been passed down through the ages,” Ciel said. “The others being Winter, Spring, and Summer, one presumes.”

“Precisely,” Sunset agreed. “Each Maiden controls access to one of the four Relics from the gods that Salem is after.”

“That element is not in the fairy story,” Ciel pointed out.

“I’m not sure what the connection is, but it’s a thing,” said Sunset. “Ozpin confirmed it.”

“You know I’m not a doctor, right?” Twilight said. “My specialties are in robotics and computing, not biology. I’m not sure how much help I can be in treating someone’s injury or illness. Surely, there are doctors who can help, they wouldn’t have to know that this person—”

“Her name is Amber.”

“Amber then, they wouldn’t have to know that she was the Fall Maiden in order to treat her,” Twilight said.

“As much to the point,” Blake added, “why were you and Pyrrha told about this; neither of you have any medical skill.”

Sunset pursed her lips. “Yeah,” she muttered. “Yeah, that…” She closed her eyes for a moment. “The Fall Maiden — Amber — was attacked by Cinder, a while ago, before the school year started, I think. She stole some of her magic … and ripped her aura while she was about it.”

“'Ripped her aura'?” repeated Blake. “That … is that even possible?”

“Aura can be severed,” Twilight declared.

“It can?” Blake asked.

“You sound surprised,” said Midnight. “When aura can be broken, diminished, damaged, why not severed also?”

“Because broken, damaged, or diminished aura comes back,” Blake said, her voice rising a little. “What happens to aura that is ripped or severed, and how do you know that?”

“Because the Atlesians have a machine to do it,” Sunset said in a voice that was halfway to being a growl. “And you know about it, don’t you?”

“That’s right, I was a minor part of the project that designed and built it,” Twilight said. “How do you…?” She paled. “Oh no. Oh no, they … they couldn’t possibly…”

“Twi?” Rainbow said, twisting around to get a better look at her. “Twi, what is it?”

“What’s wrong, Twilight?” asked Spike.

Blake began, “Why would you build a machine that—?”

“For Penny,” Twilight said, before Blake could finish. “How do you think that she has aura? Her fathers didn’t just design and build Penny; they built a machine capable of surgically removing part of their auras, severing it from their selves and grafting it onto Penny’s robotic body prior to activation.”

“So … both their auras combined together?” Sunset said, softly, quietly. “To form a single thing, different from Penny’s fathers?”

Twilight nodded. “That’s right. Penny opened her eyes, and … there she was, Penny Polendina, her own person.” She paused. “I know that it sounds bad, but … it was just a tool, to accomplish a necessary purpose, something that they needed in order to create Penny, like making a new screwdriver for a specific reason. It was never … neither of them envisaged…”

Rainbow licked her lips. She wasn’t going to like the answer to this question, but it didn’t feel like she could avoid answering it. “Envisaged what?”

“Using it on … using it to transfer aura from one living person to another,” Twilight whispered.

“Good God,” Ciel murmured.

Blake stepped forward away from the wall. “What would that have done to the recipient?”

“Pyrrha,” Sunset said, the word landing on the carpet with the thump of a lump of iron. “It was Pyrrha that they chose for this.”

Rainbow’s brow furrowed sharply, creasing her forehead. Pyrrha. Of course it was Pyrrha, not — or at least not only — because she was good, but because they wanted a Mistralian to do this because a Mistralian with their head full of crap would go along with this no matter the consequences.

Something the General would have known as well as anyone, though she hoped that … that it might have inspired him to think differently about it.

“Pyrrha,” Blake murmured. “What … what would it have done to her?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight said. “It’s never been tested, it was never even theorized, like I said, that was never the intention behind building it.”

“But the two auras merged in Penny, right?” Rainbow said. “That means that…”

She trailed off, because that thought kind of finished itself, didn’t it? The two auras had merged and become Penny, her own person, all new.

“It’s possible that the amount of aura being transferred, the amount the recipient already had, would make a difference,” Twilight suggested. “But … I don’t know. I don’t really want to think about it.”

Blake began, “And Professor Ozpin was going to—”

“Ozpin, General Ironwood, Professor Goodwitch, Ruby’s uncle,” Sunset said. “They were all there.”

“No way,” Rainbow said. “There’s no way that—”

“What?” Sunset demanded. “No way that General Ironwood would do something like that?” She ran one hand through her hair, and her tail hung limp behind her, for a few seconds anyway. Her ears drooped right down, then perked up again halfway. “Look … I’m not very happy with Ozpin at the moment, but I think that he … I don’t think that he wanted to go through with it; he just … I can’t believe I’m defending this, but I think he felt out of options. Amber’s been dying for a whole year; her aura wasn’t neatly severed, it was ripped, and… you know how when you rip fabric or something, it starts to unravel?”

“Depends on the fabric,” Rainbow said quietly, because she’d spent enough time with Rarity to know that, even if she couldn’t name the fabrics.

“Anyway, that’s what’s been happening to Amber’s aura,” Sunset said. “She’s been kept in stasis, but that’s only slowing the process down, not stopping it.”

“And yet you spoke of saving her,” Midnight pointed out. “After all, that is why you are here, no?”

“Yes,” Sunset said. “That is why I’m here. I think, and as I said, I have permission to try and save Amber without anyone … without her aura needing to be transferred; I think I can tie it off using my semblance and my magic.”

“Your semblance?” Rainbow asked.

“Touch telepathy,” Sunset said. “Or empathy. Or a bit of both. When I touch someone with my hand, I experience their memories, their feelings, and not just in a 'seeing them' way; it’s like … it’s as if I enter their mind, their soul. That’s why I started wearing gloves.” She held up one hand. “And that’s why I think that I can get into Amber’s soul and repair the damage to her aura.”

“Then what do you need my help with?” asked Twilight.

“Amber’s being kept alive in stasis,” Sunset repeated, “but I need to take her out of that in order to use my semblance on her, so she needs to be kept alive while I’m inside her soul, or her mind. Jaune can keep her aura stimulated using his semblance, but I thought that if we could keep her temperature down, then that would help too.”

Twilight nodded. “That is basically how a stasis chamber works, using low temperatures to slow down bodily processes. An ice bath would work in the short term, maybe some medical drugs to slow her heart rate … we could induce a coma?”

“I’d rather not,” Sunset said. “My hope is that she wakes up at the end of this.”

“Do you think that’s likely?” asked Twilight. “It sounds like she’s been through a lot.”

“I don’t see why she wouldn’t, once the damage to her aura is repaired,” Sunset said.

“Do you know what effect having her aura ripped up will have had on her?” asked Rainbow. “I mean, other than the fact that it almost killed her, or is killing her right now. I mean … you know what I mean, right? Just like having someone’s aura put in you might affect that person, having your aura taken away might do something to you as well.”

“Neither Doctor Polendina seemed any different after giving up a part of their aura to Penny,” Twilight replied, “but there might be a difference between a controlled severance and an uncontrolled tear.”

“But whatever the intentions of Penny’s fathers for their machine, they must have considered what the machine would do to them,” Blake pointed out. “After all, that was why they built it.”

“Yes,” Twilight agreed. “Yes, they discussed what might happen if they allowed some of their aura to be extracted. They considered that their semblances would be weakened, or might disappear altogether, memory loss…”

Blake’s eyebrows rose. “And they decided to go through with this anyway? With all those possible risks?”

“They really wanted Penny,” Twilight explained. “Plus, they thought the risks were actually quite minimal. But, even if they hadn’t been … they really wanted Penny.”

“But they thought it was minimal,” Sunset said. “And nothing happened to them?”

“No,” Twilight said. “Nothing happened, as far as anyone could tell.”

“Good,” Sunset replied. “And, to be honest, even if there were side effects, wouldn’t it be better than dying? She’ll be alive; anything else can be worked through.”

“That’s … hard to argue with,” Twilight admitted.

“Exactly,” Sunset said. “So … we’ll talk more in the morning, work through the details, okay?”

“Uh, sure,” Twilight said softly.

“Good,” Sunset said. “Great.” She paused, looking unsure for a second, looking down at the floor. “Right, well … I’ll see you tonight then.” She turned away.

“Hey, Sunset,” Twilight called to her, “are you… are you sure that you can do this?”

Sunset looked at her over her shoulder. “I’m sure I’m going to try,” she said. She nodded. “Goodnight.” She walked to the door and out of the room.

The dorm room door swung shut behind her with a thud.

---

The memory of last night was in Rainbow’s mind the next morning as she stood just beyond the docking pads, looking out across Vale.

It was still — just — dark, or at least as dark as it ever got in a big city, with all the lights still on in Vale down below. They would start turning off soon, as the sun rose in the east over the mountains that, though she couldn’t see them, she knew were there. But, for now, it was still kind of dark, with the lights of the city looking a little like reflections of the stars in the sky — although what that made all the lights of the Atlesian airships, Rainbow couldn’t have said.

Anyway, there she stood, not on the docking pads but close by, standing on one leg, her left foot resting upon her right knee, her palms together in front of her chest.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Rainbow’s yoga felt especially important this morning for clearing her head, or at least for getting it clear enough that she could think about all this stuff.

She wished that General Ironwood hadn’t been a part of that meeting that Sunset and Pyrrha had gone to yesterday.

She wished that very much.

She wished that the General hadn’t been prepared to sacrifice Pyrrha, without even giving her a fighting chance.

She wished that they were better than that.

The best that Rainbow could think about all of this was that the General, like her, had to follow orders — Professor Ozpin’s orders, in his case — and that, like her, there came a point at which he had to trust his superior.

As she had said to Ruby, what seemed a very long time ago, at some point, you had to accept that just because you didn’t understand why something was being done — or wasn’t being done — just because something didn’t make sense from your perspective didn’t mean that it didn’t make sense — it wasn’t necessary — from the perspective of someone who was higher up, who saw more, saw further, had more information.

She had said all of that, she’d meant all of that, she still believed all of that, it wasn’t her place to set herself up as having all the answers, to turn around and say that General Ironwood was wrong. But, at the same time, she was having a hard time coming up with things that he and Professor Ozpin might know that would make this okay.

Which was why she found herself hoping that General Ironwood hadn’t been okay with it but had been stuck just following orders, trusting Professor Ozpin, hoping that he knew enough to make this all worthwhile.

She hoped that he hadn’t actually thought this was a good idea.

She took another deep breath in, and then breathed out deeply, long and slow, to let the air circulate all through her body.

I get that it’s special circumstances, but is the magic really that big a deal? I mean, they were taken out once before, right? So what if Cinder gets all of the magic? Just kill her then.

Don’t kill two people to get half the powers and then you have to kill Cinder to get the other half.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Trust. Trust the General. Trust the man that you owe everything to. Trust the man who always does the right thing.

Trust him, like he has to trust Professor Ozpin.

Trust the system.

Of course, the other thing that Rainbow and Ruby had talked about, when they had talked about duty and obedience, was what to do if you really thought that your superior had made — or was making — the wrong choice. What Olivia had done: go to her king, talk to him, plead with him, make him see, or else be made to see. Well, wasn’t that what Sunset had done? She’d seen a bad idea, she’d had a better one, she’d gone to Professor Ozpin with her better plan, and he had recognized its superiority and given the green light.

From that perspective, everything was working precisely as it was meant to.

She just wished their superiors hadn’t come up with such a bad plan in the first place.

“May I join you?” Pyrrha asked, her voice coming in from behind Rainbow Dash.

Rainbow didn’t turn or look around — it was hard to do that while standing on one leg — so she just said, “Uh, sure. If you want to.”

“Thank you,” Pyrrha said. “Blake told me this was quite invigorating.”

“She didn’t like it enough to come back,” Rainbow muttered. She grinned. “I guess that’s why she called it invigorating instead of relaxing.”

Pyrrha chuckled as she came to stand at Rainbow’s side. “I suppose. She did say it wasn’t something she could face doing every morning, but that wasn’t to say that she didn’t enjoy it. She also told me there might be a nice view at the end of it all.”

“I hope so,” Rainbow said; she glanced at Pyrrha, who appeared to have gotten fully dressed in her huntress outfit, her armour gleaming very faintly in the pre-dawn light, a little glimmer on her brow where her circlet caught that same light.

“You’re dressed early,” Rainbow observed.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Pyrrha said. “I don’t have as much to think about as I might have done, I suppose, but, nevertheless, I couldn’t sleep.” She raised her left leg, placing her booted foot upon her knee. “It’s like this, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said. “It’s like that exactly. You know, I think this is originally Mistralian.”

“I think you might be right,” Pyrrha replied, “but that doesn’t mean I have any familiarity with it.”

Rainbow chuckled. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll go easy on you.” She knelt down on the grass, feeling it beneath her fingers and upon the palms of her hands. “Deep breaths, and let’s start with a cat pose.”

Pyrrha was a lot better at this than Blake. Where Blake had struggled to match Rainbow’s movements, the positions of her body, the transitions from pose to pose, Pyrrha was a natural at it. Rainbow had thought that her outfit might give her some trouble, but apparently, although it might look like a corset, it was actually surprisingly flexible. Pyrrha matched Rainbow pose for pose — not that it was a contest — even the ones like Tech-Savvy Donkey or Horse on a Bike, moving her legs, her arms, her whole body just right, stretching and twisting herself with ease.

“You’re good,” Rainbow said as she settled herself down on the ground, sitting cross-legged — that, ironically, was what seemed to give Pyrrha the most trouble with her armoured greaves and cuisses — waiting for the sunrise to break out over Vale. “Better than Blake. Better than I was expecting.”

“I prefer to dodge hits than take them,” Pyrrha said. “That means I need to be able to twist my body at least a little.”

“More than a little,” Rainbow told her. She placed her hands upon her knees and took a deep breath. “So … can I ask how you’re feeling, or do you not want to talk about it?”

“I think that if I didn’t want to talk about it, I would hardly be here, would I?” asked Pyrrha.

Rainbow grinned. “No, I guess you wouldn’t. But if you really don’t want to, then—”

“I feel relieved, obviously,” Pyrrha murmured. “That I won’t have to go through with it, to … submit to … I feel relieved. I felt relieved all night, all day since Sunset told me that she had found another way forward, and yet—”

“You still couldn’t sleep,” Rainbow said.

Pyrrha sighed. “No,” she admitted. “No, I could not.”

Rainbow gave her a second, more, in case there was anything more that she felt like saying. It wasn’t clear that there was, at least not right away.

She decided to give it a second longer.

“They gave me a choice,” Pyrrha said. “Professor Ozpin, General Ironwood, Professor Goodwitch. They didn’t order me to get into that device—”

“I feel as though I ought to apologise on behalf of Atlas for the fact that we even have that,” Rainbow said.

“As I understand, it was created for Penny’s sake,” Pyrrha said.

“Yeah,” Rainbow replied. “Yeah, that’s what Twilight tells me.”

“In which case, it hardly needs apology,” Pyrrha said. “Without it … hardly bears thinking about. But, in any case, my point is that I was given the choice. I wasn’t ordered to do it; I was asked. I could have said no.”

“Would you?” Rainbow asked. “Would you have said no?”

Pyrrha paused. “No,” she said softly. “No, I would not.”

“Why not?”

Pyrrha looked at her. “Because if I had refused, then Professor Ozpin would have had to turn to someone else — you or Blake or Ruby or someone, anyone else — and asked them to do what I would not, to suffer the consequences that I would not entertain. How could I put someone else in that position?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess,” Rainbow murmured. “But if not anyone else, if this isn’t something that anyone else should have to do — and I agree with you, it’s not — then that gets back to, well, why you? What makes you so special that you should have to do this?”

“Nothing,” Pyrrha said. “But that I was the one they chose. Honour pricked me on.”

“Pricked you … you’re not talking to Sunset here, you know; you’re going to have to use words I can understand,” Rainbow said, with a little laughter in her voice. “Mind you, I understand honour, so I understand what you’re saying. I think. The thing about honour, though, is…” She trailed off for a few moments.

“You don’t die for honour,” she declared. “Any more than you die for clan or house or any of that other Mistralian stuff, you just … you just die.”

“You have a problem with Mistral?” Pyrrha asked.

“Not with Mistral, or with Mistralians,” Rainbow said quickly. “You seem like a very nice person, even though this might be the first time we’ve actually spoken to one another, and everyone seems to really like you, and you’re all great, I’m sure. I’ve got nothing against the people or the place; it’s just … your culture has so much power over you, and it … that’s what I have a problem with, these ideals, these ideas, the lengths that you people will go to to live up to this … you risk too much, for too little cause, that’s all. That’s how I see it, anyway.”

Pyrrha was silent a moment. “I … I suppose it depends on what one thinks is worth dying for,” she murmured.

“Mmm,” Rainbow muttered. “Yeah, I guess it does. Or what you think is worth living for.”

The sun rose, cresting the far off mountains, clearing the horizon of their sight, the warm glow of its rays bathing Vale in light, driving off the darkness. The sky began to lighten before their very eyes, the dark transforming into a dark blue. The lights were still on in Vale, and would be for a few hours yet, but already, the world was brighter, and felt brighter too.

Rainbow and Pyrrha watched for a moment as the sun illuminated the world before them, the mountains suddenly visible, and the great expanse of forest and field that lay between the mountains and the city walls.

“Quite a view, isn’t it?” Pyrrha said.

“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed. “Not as great as Atlas, mind.”

Pyrrha chuckled. “Nor the view from the high slopes of Mistral. But still, quite a view.”

Rainbow nodded. “If you enjoyed this, then you should get Jaune out of bed to do it sometime.”

Pyrrha glanced at her. “Yes. Yes, I might do that,” she said. “That’s a very good idea.”

“I’ll find somewhere else to do my stretches that morning,” Rainbow assured her. She paused for a moment. “You’ve got a lot to live for, you know. You're loving, and beloved, isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t know,” Pyrrha murmured. “I hope so with half of my heart, and with the other, I yet hope for something … grander, nobler … more glorious perhaps, if you’ll forgive my vanity.”

“There’s nothing wrong with glory, if you can win it,” Rainbow allowed. “Just remember … glory is best enjoyed alive.”

Pyrrha might have said something else, but even as her mouth opened, she looked behind her, her body twisting at the hips, as she and Rainbow turned to see Starlight Glimmer approaching them.

She was walking with a shambling walk, as though she’d just stumbled out of bed — there was probably no ‘as though’ about it; she’d just stumbled out of bed — still dressed in her Atlas standard issue pyjamas, plus boots and socks. Her hair hadn’t been combed yet and was a mess of tangled bedhead, and she covered her mouth with one hand as she yawned.

“Hey, Rainbow Dash,” she muttered. “What did you—?” She stopped as she noticed Pyrrha’s presence. “Sorry, I didn’t realise that you had company.”

Pyrrha started to get up. “I can—”

“You can stay, if you want; you can hear this too,” Rainbow said. “Starlight, this is Pyrrha Nikos—”

“Yeah, I know; I haven’t lived under a rock,” Starlight said. She held out one hand. “Starlight Glimmer of Team Tsunami.”

Pyrrha finished rising to her feet and took Starlight’s hand. “Pyrrha Nikos, at your service.”

“I’ll try not to take advantage of that,” Starlight replied. “So, Rainbow, what did you want to talk about that you dragged me out of bed this early?”

“I did you a favour, you can get some early morning training in.”

“With who? You think Trixie’s awake right now?”

“Tempest?”

“Maybe,” Starlight said quietly. “Anyway, what is this about?”

“Sit down,” Rainbow urged, gesturing to the spots on either side of her. “Take in the view.”

“If I sit down, I’m going to fall asleep,” Starlight muttered, but she did sit down on Rainbow’s right-hand side. Pyrrha resumed sitting on Rainbow’s left, where she had been before.

Starlight swayed a little, and made as though she was going to lean on Rainbow’s shoulder, but righted herself just in time.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll try and keep it together, but forget training; I’m going back to bed.”

“Long night?” Rainbow asked.

Starlight nodded. “Trixie and I have been watching every video of every team that might be competing in the Vytal Festival to see if we can work out strategies.”

“You could have just made notes watching them in combat class,” Rainbow pointed out.

“Is that what you did?” Starlight asked.

“I have mental notes,” Rainbow replied. “So, against Pyrrha, I’d try and close the distance with my super speed and push you out of the arena before you could respond.”

“You … would be welcome to try that approach,” Pyrrha said.

Obviously, she didn’t think it would work.

Probably, it wouldn’t work perfectly, but then, in a battle, things rarely worked perfectly; that was why you needed to be able to think on your feet.

Rainbow’s second strategy would be to weave around her, shooting her from mid-range while using her greater speed to stay out of contact.

“Anyway,” Rainbow said. “Thanks for agreeing to come out here and meet me.”

“Sure, sure,” Starlight said, or at least, that was what Rainbow thought she said, given the way that she was yawning. “But what is this about?”

Rainbow hesitated for a second. “This … Starlight … are you the Winter Maiden?”

Starlight’s eyes widened, all tiredness seeming to disappear from her, the effect of Rainbow’s words acting like a double espresso or one of Pinkie’s sugar rush breakfasts.

“You … both of you…”

“We know about the Maidens, yeah,” Rainbow said.

Starlight’s mouth opened, and then closed. “Well … if you know, then maybe I should be asking you if you’re Maidens.”

“No,” Pyrrha replied. “We do not … we aren’t.”

Starlight nodded slowly. “And neither am I,” she said. “I’m not the Winter Maiden.”

Rainbow frowned. “But you said to Twilight—”

“I dropped the name to see if it meant anything to her,” Starlight said, “because it was the only name I knew, the only piece of the puzzle that I had, but I was right, wasn’t I? There was something going on with your team, and Team Sapphire, and that business in Mountain Glenn; there was something going on.”

“Something, yeah,” Rainbow agreed. “I’m not sure it’s something that we can talk about, though.”

“Then there’s more to it,” Starlight said. “More that General Ironwood is hiding than just the Maidens.”

Rainbow licked her lips. “You could say that, yeah.”

“I don’t know why you trust him so much,” Starlight said.

“Because he’s trustworthy!”

“Is he?” Starlight asked.

“Yes!” Rainbow cried. “The General has always come through for me.”

“The General chose me and asked me to sign away my life to become a living container for magic that I would have to keep secret until the day I died,” Starlight said. She closed her eyes. “I understand that someone has to do it, and I’m sure that General Ironwood means well and acts with good intentions, but … I have to be honest, and I’ve said this to Blake already, the way that you and so many others put him up on a pedestal, it … he’s just a man, he can make mistakes, and it does no one any good to pretend that he doesn’t.”

“I know that General Ironwood can make mistakes,” Rainbow replied. “I pointed out one of them to him myself recently. But I also know that he does always try to do the right thing, and that’s what I trust: that for everything he does, every decision he makes, there’s a motive behind it that makes sense, even if it isn’t obvious to me.”

“You were chosen, you say?” Pyrrha asked. “Chosen to become the Winter Maiden? But you didn’t?”

Starlight nodded. “The Winter Maiden was ill,” she explained. “They thought that she might die, General Ironwood, and Professor Ozpin of Beacon. He was there too; I’m not sure why, but he must know all about this. The two of them called me into the hospital, and they told me all about it. Told me that I’d been chosen to be the next to receive the Winter Maiden’s power. They made it sound as though I’d been chosen by someone other than the two of them.”

“And…” Pyrrha hesitated. “How … how were you to receive it?”

“They were going to keep the Winter Maiden confined, with me as her only visitor,” Starlight said. “You know how the power transfers, right?”

“To the last person that the Maiden thinks about,” Rainbow said quietly.

“Right,” Starlight agreed. “So, by making my face the face that she would see—”

“They would make it likely that you would be in her thoughts,” Pyrrha finished. “That does not sound too inhumane.”

“No, no, it doesn’t,” Starlight said. “That wasn’t why I … I didn’t run away because what they were doing to my would-be predecessor was so awful, or even because I’d be hunted for the magic — they didn’t tell me that, by the way; it was just the obvious inference from the insistence that they had to be kept secret. Was I right about that?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Pyrrha murmured.

“I thought so,” Starlight replied. “I could have handled that, I’m not a coward, I can accept danger. I could accept that someone might come after me. What I couldn’t accept was … the responsibility. They made it sound so heavy. And so lonely. I didn’t want to be alone. And so I … well, you know what happened. And now you know why.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said quietly. “Thanks for telling us this, Starlight. It makes sense that you’re not the Maiden; we couldn’t understand why you’d be put at risk if you were.”

“Glad I could help,” Starlight said dryly. “Rainbow Dash?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not going to ask what you’re involved in because you can’t tell, and you probably wouldn’t,” Starlight said, “but I’m going to assume that it’s dangerous. So … take care of yourself, won’t you? And take care of Twilight too, and Blake for that matter.”

“Blake doesn’t need anyone to take care of her.”

“Everyone needs someone to take care of them, sometime,” Starlight replied. “Even me. Even you. And even Blake, but especially Twilight.”

“Twilight is going back to the lab where she belongs as soon as this year is over,” Rainbow said. “But yeah, I’ll take care of them. All of them. It’s what I’m here for, after all.”

Starlight smiled, although it was a tight smile around her mouth. “Yeah, you are,” she said. “And now, if you’ll excuse me,” — she got up — “my bed is calling out for my return, and I can hear it all the way out here. Unless there’s anything else you want to ask.”

Who is the Winter Maiden? No, that wasn’t information that they needed to know. It was kept secret for a reason. It was one of those things that you had to trust, that General Ironwood would have told them who the Winter Maiden was if they needed to know their identity.

“No,” Rainbow said. “No, there’s nothing else. Thanks, Starlight.”

“Sure thing,” Starlight said. “If I were in your shoes, I’d want to know as well.” She paused. “You’re not Maidens, but … have either of you been offered to be?”

Neither Rainbow nor Pyrrha said anything. Rainbow wasn’t sure how Pyrrha would want to play it, and it was, after all, her secret to tell — if something could be a secret when nine people knew about it so far — not Rainbow’s.

“So that’s a yes,” Starlight said tartly. “You don’t have to tell me which of you it is, or maybe it’s neither of you but one of your teammates, but if I were you … well, it’s pretty obvious, but I wouldn’t go through with it. It asks too much.”

“But it is a worthy cause, is it not?” asked Pyrrha.

“So it’s you, then,” Starlight replied. “'A worthy cause'? Maybe. But a worthy cause is why I’m here. They can ask me to volunteer my body and my life, and I’ve done both, gladly enough. But there are some things they don’t have the right to ask, and cutting yourself off from all others, from friendship, support, companionship … that’s more than I signed on for, more than anyone signed on for. How I see it, at least; you can make up your own mind. Just think about it carefully, before you do. See you around, Dash.”

Rainbow nodded. “See you, Starlight.”

She watched for a few moments as Starlight walked away, quickly getting onto the path that led back from the docking pads towards the school. Only as Starlight got closer to the great courtyard did Rainbow turn her attention back onto Pyrrha. “'A worthy cause'?”

Pyrrha did not look in the least bit ashamed or embarrassed. “I admit that the idea of having to remain in Vale, never being able to return home to Mistral, I confess that that caused me some degree of discomfort and unease at first, before I knew about Amber. But, nevertheless, if it were not for the manner in which the power was to be given to me … I would have taken it.”

“Because you want it?”

“Because it is a worthy thing, to keep such power out of the hands of evil,” Pyrrha replied. “Though it would be worthier to use such powers for good, to keep them safe is, nevertheless, worthy. And I would do something worthy, and of use to the world, though the use be passive and unknown to most. On the elevator ride down to the vault beneath the school, Sunset told me that it was like ascension, the way that, amongst her people, those who are judged worthy transform into something … grander.”

“I think I’ve met one who ascended,” Rainbow replied. “Wings aside, she didn’t seem that different. Nobody treated her that differently either, that I saw.”

“Then could the same not be true of a Maiden?” asked Pyrrha.

“It isn’t,” Rainbow answered.

“But it could be,” Pyrrha repeated. “I do not believe Jaune would abandon me, simply because I had been bestowed with magic.” She smiled. “Loving and beloved. Did you not say that was enough?”

Rainbow smiled. “Okay, you have me there. I can’t argue with that now, can I?”

Pyrrha laughed ever so softly. “Of course, it’s all academic now, in any case.”

“For now,” Rainbow said. “Winter, Spring, Summer; I bet the next time a spot opens up, Professor Ozpin will keep your name in mind.”

“You make it sound like promotion opportunities in a corporate enterprise,” Pyrrha said. “Or a sports team.”

“It kind of is,” Rainbow said. “Professor Ozpin is the CEO, and he decides who gets the big promotion.”

“I … suppose,” Pyrrha admitted. The smile returned to her face. “Thank you, Rainbow Dash, that was quite a pleasant way to begin the morning. And I’ll definitely think about asking Jaune to join me next time.” She stood up. “But for now, I think I’ll go for a run around the grounds before I return to the dorm room. Would you like to join me, in turn?”

Rainbow grinned. “That wouldn’t be much of a race, would it?”

“You might be surprised.”

“No,” Rainbow said. “No, I really wouldn’t.” She leapt to her feet. “But, if you’d like an even contest, you want to spar or something later?”

“'Spar'?” Pyrrha repeated. The corner of her lip twitched upwards. “That wouldn’t be much of a fight, would it?”

“Ahaha,” Rainbow said. “Humour me. Please. I’m curious. Plus … it might help to take your mind off … all this.”

Pyrrha considered it for a moment. “All right,” she said. “I shall look forward to it.”

“Awesome!” said Rainbow. “And so will I.”

---

Beacon's arena was kind of open-house at the moment, free for anyone to use who wanted to get some practice in before the Vytal Festival, or the selections for Beacon and Haven — although, as a note on the door said, Professor Goodwitch would prefer it if you tried not to wreck the place too much — and so Rainbow was able to go right in, grab her gear out of the lockers, and head on through from the locker room into the arena itself.

It was well-lit inside; the lights didn't go dark unless you signalled for them to go dark — and there wouldn't be much point in that when there were no spectators around to distract them anyway; they might as well leave the lights on — and no one around, not even Pyrrha.

Rainbow was obviously early.

She'd already checked her weapons, but she checked them again since she had time to kill. It only took a couple of seconds though, so she was left waiting, pacing around the arena, looking out across the seats, thinking through the fight ahead.

The doors opened, and Rainbow turned, her trainers squeaking a little on the floor as she saw Sun come in, pushing both the doors open, briefly letting in the light from behind him, before walking through the centre of the room, past the bleachers that were set up beneath the arena for the other students to watch.

He had his staff in his hand.

"Hey," he said, looking around. "You waiting for somebody?"

"Hey, Sun," Rainbow replied. "Yeah, I'm waiting for Pyrrha. We're going to have a sparring match."

Sun snorted. "Good luck with that."

Rainbow rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," Sun went on, "since you've got a minute, can we talk?"

"Sure," Rainbow said. "What about?"

Sun leapt up onto the stage, planting one end of his staff upon the black arena surface. He didn't quite look at Rainbow Dash. "So … how was Atlas?"

"The be—" Rainbow stopped short of saying 'the best place in the world, as always,' because while Atlas was and had been good to her, calling it the best place in the world didn't seem appropriate right at the moment. "I had a good time. I loved it. I love it."

"Really?" Sun asked. "Still? Even after—"

"After everything," Rainbow replied.

"Why?"

"Because … because I love her," Rainbow replied. "Because she's in my soul, and so are the people who live there. Because she's beautiful. Because … because I love her, for a hundred reasons and no reason at all."

Now, Sun looked at Rainbow Dash. "You really mean all of that?"

Rainbow folded her arms. "What's this about, Sun?"

Sun hesitated for a moment. "I heard about what happened to the two of you in Atlas," he said. "It seems like the two of you, you and Blake, did good up there."

"Thanks," Rainbow said. "We tried to do the right thing."

Sun took a second before he said, "While you were there, while you and Blake were there, did she … say anything about me?"

Is that what this is about? Rainbow thought, before the initial incredulity gave way to an acceptance that, yeah, okay, it wasn't that unfair of a question to ask, even though he might not like the answer. Now it was her turn to hesitate before she admitted, "No."

Sun's face twitched. He didn't scowl, but he didn't look very happy either. Rainbow had to admit that he had some reason to not be happy about it. "She didn't call either," he muttered.

"She had to watch Sunset shoot her last boyfriend in the chest not too long ago," Rainbow said. "That sort of thing stays with you. Give her a break; she's been through a lot."

"Then why won't she let me be there for her?" Sun asked.

"I don't know; I'm her friend, not her diary," Rainbow replied. "Listen, Sun, I get that you're not happy about this, and I won't even say that your wrong to be, but … if you want someone to listen to you complain about Blake, I don't want to hear it, and if you want to do something, then why don't you talk to Blake herself?"

"Would she want to talk to me?" asked Sun.

"If she doesn't, then she'll let you know," Rainbow said.

Again, Sun paused. "Is Blake still planning to go to Atlas?"

Rainbow nodded. "She put in her paperwork with General Ironwood yesterday."

"Why?" Sun demanded. "Why, after everything that she did when she was there, after everything that's come out, why … why either of you, but especially why Blake?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to wear that uniform?" Sun cried. "Why do you want to be a part of this kingdom that hates you, that thinks you're less? Why does Blake want to put herself through that?" He turned away, sitting down on the edge of the stage with his legs dangling down towards the floor below. "I don't get it. Not one bit."

Rainbow Dash walked to the edge of the stage and sat down next to Sun. "What's it like," she asked, "in Vacuo?"

"Vacuo?"

"That's where you're from, isn't it?" asked Rainbow. "They say it's a place the faunus aren't discriminated against."

"They're right about that," Sun said. "In Vacuo, the desert is our enemy. It's hot. Hotter than anything else I've ever felt, hotter than anywhere else I've ever been. And the sand gets everywhere, I hate it."

"Coarse and rough and irritating," Rainbow muttered.

"Exactly," Sun agreed. "It's a real pain in the butt. When I got to Mistral, everything was so soft and smooth, I could hardly believe it." He paused. "It's a hard life. Harder than here, harder than Mistral, definitely harder than Atlas. That's what makes us so tough."

Rainbow snorted. Sun ignored her.

"And yeah," Sun went on. "We don't discriminate. We can't. There's nobody around who would, no Council, no big business. There's just people, treating one another like people—"

"So long as they're strong," Rainbow said, "because if they fall behind, they get left behind, right? Isn't that the way in Vacuo? The strong don't defend the weak, they leave them to fend for themselves?"

"You make it sound worse than it is," Sun replied.

"Then make it sound better."

"There is no one weak in Vacuo," Sun declared. "In Vacuo, the weak die, and the strong survive, but it's not because they're left to die; it's because … it's because they can't be saved. The land's too hard, and you have to be strong to live in it. That's just the way it is. I think that might be why there's no prejudice against the faunus, because everyone's too busy just trying to survive."

"Even in the cities?"

"What cities?" Sun asked. "I guess you could call the area around Shade Academy a city, the Weeping Wall, the bazaar, but … in Vacuo, we don't really do settling down. Wherever you settle, around an oasis or a relay tower, it might get attacked by the grimm, and so we're always prepared to move on. There's no point dying in a fight over a patch of sand. No point standing your ground when you can just get out."

"Doesn't sound like much of a life," Rainbow muttered. "How do you put down roots when you might have to pull them up at any minute?"

Sun shrugged. "That's why we don't, I guess."

"Fair," Rainbow said quietly. "How old were you when you left Vacuo?"

"Sixteen," said Sun.

"And that's when you found that you got treated differently, for being a faunus?" Rainbow asked, putting one hand on his shoulder.

"I guess," Sun murmured. "Honestly, I didn't really notice it until … well, have you heard about all this stuff in Vale?"

"I've heard about it," Rainbow replied.

"And then this stuff in Atlas, with the SDC," Sun went on. "I … I used to think that the White Fang were just a bunch of freaks. I knew about them; even in Vacuo, we heard about them, but they weren't around because, well, because everyone was too busy trying to survive to worry about politics and because there isn't really any discrimination for them to get upset about. So I thought that they were just looking for something to be angry about, looking for an excuse to cause trouble. But now, with what the SDC did to all those faunus, I don't know … I can't say that the White Fang doesn't have a point."

"Of course they have a point," Rainbow said. "The White Fang has always had a point."

Sun looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"Sun, I grew up in a shivering cold house in a crater looking up at the city in the sky," Rainbow told him. "I've been stopped, searched, picked up by the cops for being a faunus in the wrong neighbourhood. I've had people try to warn me away from Twilight because a faunus like me shouldn't be anywhere near a nice human girl from a good family. I'm not an idiot, I know that the world isn't perfect, I know that Atlas isn't perfect, I know what's wrong with it."

"But you love her all the same?" Sun asked.

Rainbow didn't respond to that; instead, she said, "My best friend growing up is in the White Fang, and while I could pretend that she's become a monster, that she's not the girl I used to know, that she's strayed so far off the path that I could shoot her like a dog and it wouldn't bother me at all, the truth is that her heart's in the right place, the same as it's always been. Twisted by anger, maybe, but that's because … well … the White Fang have a point, the point being that the faunus get the short end of the stick sometimes, and that's not fair. The problem is … well, there are two problems, the first of which is that they act like all humans are the problem when the truth is that if we want to solve things, then we’re going to need people who can look past our ears and tails and treat us like equals; and the second problem is that they've decided to go out and kill people and blow stuff up, and how's that going to help anybody? Blake and I were the ones who exposed what Calliope Ferny was doing, not the White Fang. Mantle isn't on strike and about to get a massive payday from the Schnee Dust Company because of anything the White Fang did but because of what we did, me and Blake. We've done more for the faunus over the last couple of weeks than the White Fang have in years. All the White Fang have done recently is try to destroy Vale, like that would have done anything for the faunus in Mistral or Atlas. We've done this, not them. Working with the system has done this, not their bullets or their bombs. Being on the inside, pulling levers, not on the outside screaming and shouting. And that's why Blake is going to put our uniform on, and that's one of the reasons why I wear it too. That and, yes, because I love her, flaws and all."

"But why do you and Blake have to be the ones doing all the work?" Sun asked. "Why can't the humans sort out their own problems?"

"Because … because once you step back you lose the right to do anything but shut up," Rainbow said. "The critic doesn't count, Robyn Hill standing on the sidelines carping, pointing out how stronger people stumble, how the person who actually did things could have done them better. It's hard work, yes, and our faces are marred by dust and sweat because that's the cost of getting things done, of actually trying. And in the end, we get the reward of triumph, or at least of knowing that we tried, and that's more than those who criticise us will know. It's more than we'd know if we just wrang our hands about how bad things are. It's not enough to say 'somebody should do something' unless you're willing to add 'and that somebody is me.' You have to get in the arena, or why should anybody care what you think or have to say?"

"I guess," Sun murmured. "It just seems like a lot of work for a small reward, you know?"

"Maybe it is," Rainbow replied, "but what would I do otherwise? What would Blake do?" She paused. "Listen, Sun, you really want my advice, about Blake?"

Sun hesitated a second. "Sure, yeah."

"I don't know how much help it will be, because I'm no expert, but…" Rainbow paused. "Some people would say that you're not good enough for Blake, that you'll be a liability to her in Atlas. I don't think that has to be true, but I do think that … Blake knows what she wants. You might not understand it, you might not agree with it, but she knows. She knows what she wants, where she wants to go, and if you love her, then you'll have to find a way to go along with that somehow. Or not, I mean … sometimes, stuff just … ends. Look at Twilight; things end around her all the time. Like with your pal Neptune."

"Yeah, stuff ends with Neptune a lot too," Sun agreed, "but I don't want this to end, I … I love her flaws and all." He grinned. "She's in my soul, I guess."

Rainbow snorted. "Then you'll have to find a way to live with Blake's choices, because, no offence, Blake isn't going to turn away for your sake. So I guess the real question is whether you can find a way to do that. Who are you, Sun, what do you want; where are you going, or where do you want to go? Answer that, and then you'll know whether you can make it work with Blake."

Comments

[Mastermind4892]

It looks like a piece of Rainbow’s ideals and loyalty needed to be tested here as Ruby’s did.

[Lancerguy]

11538199
Hers already was. The whole SDC actually does kidnap, brand, and enslave Faunus arc was her test of loyalty which she passed. Dash actually spells out perfectly here what happened. She no longer views Atlas as it was, but still can step back and see that she does more good in perfecting the system that exists than in destroying it wholesale for some utopian ideal that would probably be just as bad if not worse.

Now, you could say that she could use a test in her loyalty to Ironwood, but I don't see that coming, since at least to Dash Ironwood is so closely tied to the system itself they might as well be the same thing. It's not like this Ironwood is one step removed from becoming a megalomaniac dictator that kills all detractors at the slightest provocation, nukes civilians for being the slightest bit inconvenient to him, or just throws soldiers at the problem Field Marshall Haig style until the problem magically goes away all in the name of the greater good (cue bit).

Also, is it against the rules to mention sand and not include that reference at this point?

[Firefly_]

11538369
I like to think of it like this: rainbow doesn't believe in atlas as it is now, she believes in what it can be.