Apologies All Round (Rewritten)
Apologies All Round
Amber gasped, her arms flailing, causing splashes of water and slowly melting ice cubes to slosh over the rim of the ice bath and down onto the vault floor, slowly spreading out to lap the boots or shoes of Jaune, Pyrrha, and Twilight.
“Here, take my hand,” Jaune said, holding out a hand which she grasped with an instinctual swiftness.
“Got you,” Jaune said as he pulled her to her feet. “Careful now, take it easy.”
“Thank you,” Amber murmured, holding tight onto Jaune as she emerged, dripping, from the bath; she clambered out of it, true to Jaune’s call for caution, surmounting the bath like it was a fence, half falling out of it — perhaps she would have fallen if Jaune hadn’t put out his other hand to steady her about the waist.
Either way, she got out and stood on the cold grey floor of the vault, dripping water from her body and her hair, the water pooling around her as it fell like rain, tap-tap-tapping as it hit the surface.
“Thank you,” she repeated, looking up at Jaune.
She let out a little gasp at the sight of him, but it was followed swiftly after by a little sigh.
“Is everything okay?” Jaune asked.
“I … I’m sorry,” Amber murmured. “It’s just that, your hair and your eyes, you … I thought for a moment that … but no, it doesn’t matter; I’m sorry.”
Jaune smiled. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ve just got one of those faces, I guess.”
Amber might have responded to that, or she might not; either way, anything that she might have wished to say was cut off.
It was cut off by Professor Ozpin speaking a single word. “Amber.”
A quick glance around the room by Sunset confirmed the amazement on the faces of practically everyone present. Even Twilight, who had worked most closely with Sunset on this, was gawking in astonishment as though she was surprised that it had actually worked.
Qrow, Professor Goodwitch, General Ironwood, they all looked as if they had witnessed a miracle, standing amazed with wide eyes and open mouths. Everyone looked amazed, everyone looked much the same with two exceptions. One was Ciel, who was murmuring to herself, speaking beneath her breath, probably a prayer.
The other was Professor Ozpin.
Professor Ozpin did not look amazed. Professor Ozpin’s expression reminded Sunset of a flower that had been for so long deprived of sunlight, trapped under overcast skies and gloomy clouds, that was only now feeling the sun upon its petals once more and daring to open up and feel the warmth again. He looked like a man finding water in the desert, like a man finding shelter in the wilderness … and Sunset was the only one who could see how terribly wrong it was all about to go in a matter of moments, and there was absolutely nothing that she could do about it.
What have I done?
Amber’s eyes widened as she looked at him, standing in the centre of the vault looking so relieved to see her again. “Ozpin?”
Ozpin nodded. He even smiled, a smile more sincere and earnest and genuine than anything that Sunset had seen on his face before. He took a step towards her, holding out one hand. “It’s good to see—”
“Stay away from me!” Amber snapped, cowering behind Jaune, clinging to him as she used his body as a shield between herself and Ozpin. “You did this to me!”
The look on Ozpin’s face … there was such deep sorrow on his face, it was as though he had aged ten years in a single moment, lines springing to his cheeks and on his brow. He let his hand fall and bowed his head.
“Yes,” he said. “I did.”
Amber looked around anxiously, and she seemed to be progressing swiftly from anxious to frantic as her gaze darted around the many people in the vault. “Who … who are you? Where am I?”
“Safe,” Sunset said. “You are safe, Amber.”
Pyrrha had caught Sunset when she staggered back; now, Sunset stood upright and stepped away from Pyrrha once again, even as she drew Amber’s attention with her voice.
Amber turned her head rapidly to look at her. “It’s you! Sunset Shimmer.”
“That’s right,” Sunset said, walking towards her with her hands still raised above her head. “And these are my friends. They helped me bring you back. That’s Twilight,” she said, nodding to towards Twilight Sparkle. “She helped me more than anyone, but everyone here is here for you. They aren’t your enemies; there’s nothing to be scared of here.”
“He’s here,” Amber said, and there was no doubt who ‘he’ was.
“I told you that he’d sent me,” Sunset murmured. “But it’s okay.”
“You said—”
“I know what I said,” Sunset said quickly, cutting her off before she could repeat it. She had said what she needed to say to get Amber to come with her, but that didn’t mean that she wanted Professor Ozpin to hear it. She could see why Amber was upset with him — she had more grounds than Sunset had ever had to be wroth with Princess Celestia — but all the same, a little discretion on Amber’s part would be appreciated. “And you’ll be safe, I promise. You don’t need to be afraid.”
Amber regarded her warily, yet nevertheless, she stepped away from Jaune half a pace, releasing him from her embrace. She shivered. “I feel cold.”
“Here,” Sunset said, taking off her jacket as she walked towards her, draping it over Amber’s shoulders.
Amber grabbed it in both arms, pulling it tight around her like a blanket.
Sunset touched the jacket on the shoulder, and with her aura, she activated just a little of the fire dust sewn into the fabric, just enough so that it didn’t burn but smouldered like embers, producing heat and light but not actual flame. “How does that feel? Better?”
“A little, thank you,” Amber whispered. She looked around. “Where … where am I? What is this place?”
Sunset waited for Professor Ozpin to answer, but he did not. With the way he was standing like a statue of a despairing man, it seemed possible that he didn’t intend to say anything else at the moment.
Sunset spoke for him, saying, “This is a vault underneath Beacon Tower.”
“Under … Beacon,” Amber murmured. “So you brought me back here after all.”
“It was the only place you could be taken care of after the attack,” Qrow said. He paused for half a moment. “So, how are you feeling, kid?”
Amber stared at him. She cocked her head to one side, eyes narrowing. “Who … who are you?”
Qrow frowned. “You don’t remember me? We’ve met before, you know.”
Amber shook her head. “I don’t … I don’t remember that.”
“Memory loss,” Twilight murmured. “Unfortunately, that’s not unexpected. I’d like to run some tests to see—”
“'Tests'?” Amber repeated. “What … what kind of tests? Would there be needles?” She shook her head. “No, no thank you, I feel fine, I’m just cold.”
“It won’t take very long,” Twilight assured her, “and we can be very gentle. But it’s important that we understand your condition as soon as possible.”
“But 'as soon as possible' need not mean right now,” Ozpin murmured.
His voice was soft, but in this vault, it seemed to echo.
“Ozpin…” General Ironwood began. Then he stopped and paused a moment. “It can wait, Twilight.”
“Yes, sir,” Twilight said. “'Soon' doesn’t have to mean right now.”
“So what does happen now?” Penny asked. It was an innocent question, asked in an innocent tone, but it was also a question that plunged the entire vault into silence because nobody knew the answer.
Amber’s eyes were on Sunset as she said, “I … I’d like to stay with you, Sunset Shimmer. You saved me. I … trust you.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, at least on a temporary basis,” Professor Goodwitch said. “After all, it wouldn’t be the first time Team Sapphire has had a fifth roommate.”
“Team … Sapphire?” Amber asked.
“That’s right,” Sunset said. “Me, Jaune you’ve already met, Pyrrha.” She gestured towards Pyrrha, standing behind her.
“Hello,” Pyrrha said. She waved. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” But then she also bowed her head. “But also a great honour.”
Amber doesn’t really feel the same way, Sunset thought, but said, “And that’s Ruby over there.”
“Hey,” Ruby said.
Amber only glanced at Pyrrha and Ruby, before her gaze returned to Sunset. “So … I would be staying with you?”
“With all four of us,” Sunset said. “But yes, I’ll be there.”
Amber’s smile was only small and soft, but it was still a big improvement over the near terrified expression that had dominated her face up until that point. “Good,” she murmured. “That … that’s good. I’d like that.”
“Are we sure that’s safe?” Rainbow asked.
“'Safe'?” Sunset repeated. “Why wouldn’t it be safe?”
“Because the Beacon campus is about to be overrun by tourists for the Vytal Festival,” Rainbow said. “It’ll be hard to police that many people; what if someone were to sneak in and—?”
“Only certain areas are open to the public: the docking pads, where the fairgrounds are and the connective space; lots of the school is still off limits,” Sunset replied. “And we—” She stopped short of saying that they would, of course, not let Amber wander around unprotected, because as much as that was true and as much as it was definitely sensible, it seemed like the sort of thing best broken to Amber more gently, and in a more convivial setting than this one. Instead, she said, “What other choice is there?”
“She’d be safe on the Valiant,” Rainbow suggested. “And she could be monitored there for … anything.”
“Subtle, Jimmy,” Qrow growled.
“This isn’t my idea,” General Ironwood said, rolling his eyes, “and I have no objection to Amber staying with Team Sapphire.”
“Sir—” Rainbow began.
“I understand your concerns, Dash, and security measures will have to be put in place,” General Ironwood said, “but that doesn’t require sequestering Amber aboard my ship, something that would just raise questions.”
“I don’t want to go onto any warship,” Amber said. “I want to stay with Sunset.”
“And you will,” Professor Goodwitch said soothingly. “Until more permanent arrangements can be made.”
She glanced around the young huntsmen in the vault. “If anyone asks, Amber is Professor Ozpin’s niece, visiting him while her mother … her mother has recently passed away, and so, Amber is visiting her uncle while he helps her settle her mother’s estate and find a new place to live. She is staying with Team Sapphire as a favour to the headmaster, since she has lost her home, and her impromptu arrival has prevented any better arrangements being made. Please stick to that story; it will prevent undue complication or attention upon Amber.”
I’m pretty impressed you came up with that on the fly, to be honest. “Yes, Professor,” Sunset said. She glanced at Amber, who aside from Sunset’s gently glowing jacket was wearing only the surgical smallclothes that she’d worn in the pod. “Um, I think Amber needs something wear—”
“I’ll make the arrangements,” Professor Goodwitch said.
“Thank you, Professor,” Sunset said. She turned to Amber. “In light of, well, the fact that you’re not really wearing anything, it might be best if we took the shortcut to our room. You guys can follow on after, right?”
“That does seem like the best idea,” Pyrrha said.
“What are you talking about?” Amber asked.
Sunset held out her hand — her left hand, the one that was still covered by a glove to prevent her semblance going off.
Amber took it, with only a brief moment’s hesitation.
“This might just pinch a bit,” Sunset said, and then she teleported.
There was a flash of green light, a squeezing sensation, and then Sunset and Amber were standing in the middle of the SAPR dorm room.
Amber sank to her knees as Sunset released her hand. She stared at the wooden floor beneath her. She stared at all four white-painted walls of the dorm. She stared at the sunlight coming in through the window. “Where … where are we?”
“Our dorm room,” Sunset said. “Where we live. Where you live, for now.”
“So … I’m home?”
Sunset hesitated, pausing in the act of bending down to take the things off her bed. “I guess … I guess you are, yes.” She picked up the stuffed unicorn from off the bed. “This is my bed, but you can sleep here for now. I’ll get the camp bed back from when Blake was staying here.”
“What’s that?” Amber asked, pointing at the unicorn.
“This?” Sunset said, looking down at the fairground prize. “It’s a stuffed toy.” She tossed it to Amber, who didn’t manage to catch it before it hit her and bounced onto the floor, where it landed noiselessly upon the carpet.
Amber bent down and swiftly picked it up. She held it up for a moment, running her fingers over the unicorn’s fur, before she pressed it against her face and nuzzled it with her cheek.
“So soft,” she murmured, as she closed her eyes. “I think I used to have some things just like this. I … I don’t remember what happened to them.”
Sunset sat down on her bed — Amber’s bed, at least for the time being — and said, “Do you … do you want to hold onto it for a little while?”
Amber’s eyes opened. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Sunset said. “Why not, if you like it?” It will probably get more love from you than it’s gotten from me lately.
“Thank you, Sunset. It’s so soft and pretty.”
“Don’t go nuts; it’s just a stupid fairground prize.”
“'Fairground'? Is that where you got it from?”
“Yeah,” Sunset said. “Flash, my boyfriend at the time, won it for me.”
“Boy friend,” Amber repeated. “Sunset, what’s a boy friend? Why can you only be friends with one boy?”
“It’s not, um … you really don’t know what a boyfriend is?”
Amber shook her head. “Growing up, there weren’t a lot of people around; a lot of the time, there was only my mother for company. I’ve only really known two men in my life: Un— Ozpin—”
Sunset grinned. “You can call him Uncle Ozpin if you want to; nobody’s going to get mad at you for it.”
“I don’t want to,” Amber declared.
“Are you sure, because—?”
“I don’t!” Amber snapped. “I don’t care about him at all anymore!” Sunset’s jacket fell off her shoulders to land in a crumpled heap on the floor as Amber cradled the stuffed unicorn, holding it close as though it could protect her. “I was a fool to think he loved me.”
“It was your choice to make me love you, but it was my choice to believe you loved me in return.”
But you did love me, didn’t you? I was just too selfish and too blind to see it.
Sunset wanted to tell Amber not to judge Ozpin so harshly; whatever mistakes he had made, he probably did love her, the way that Celestia had loved Sunset all along in spite of all the things that Sunset had done … but now was probably not the time, Amber’s mood being what it was, the very opposite of receptive.
“Okay,” she murmured. “Well, anyway, you asked about what a boyfriend was? So, a boyfriend is … Dove. Dove was your boyfriend, or at least a lot of people would say so.”
“Dove,” Amber whispered. “Oh, Dove.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “So … so your boyfriend, the one who gave you this, he was your true love?”
Sunset’s eyebrows rose. “Um, okay, um, well … at the time, I kind of thought he might be, but … no. No, he wasn’t, as demonstrated by the fact that he’s not my boyfriend anymore, no, um…” She trailed off for a moment. “I suppose your boyfriend certainly can be your true love, I mean, look at Jaune and Pyrrha, but … all a boyfriend actually needs to be is, well, a boy and you hang out, kiss, talk to one another—”
“That sounds like love,” Amber declared.
“Like I said, it can be,” Sunset admitted. “But not always. Sometimes, it’s just a bit of fun. Sometimes, it just doesn’t work out.”
“You mean it isn’t true love’s kiss?”
Sunset’s eyes narrowed. “You spent more time with storybooks than people growing up, didn’t you?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m very perceptive,” Sunset said dryly. “Suffice to say that while some people are lucky enough to fall in love in their teenage years, some of us have to make do with making out on the hood of his car until he realises what complete dumpster fires we are.”
“You mean—?”
“I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s all the same to you,” Sunset said.
“Oh, of course,” Amber said quickly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Sunset smiled at her. “You didn’t; I just … I’m not proud of the way that I treated him.”
“Did you leave him behind?” Amber asked. “Did you go away and leave him?”
Sunset blinked. “No, that’s not it.”
Amber frowned. “I left Dove behind. He asked me to wait for him at Beacon, but … but I couldn’t. I … I think I … I don’t remember, but … I think I was running away. From here, from Ozpin, from all of this. I just wanted to go home.” She sat down on the bed next to Sunset, leaning upon Sunset, their shoulders touching. She still held the stuffed unicorn in her hands, resting him upon her lap. “If only I’d stayed here and waited, then none of this would have happened.”
Sunset put one arm around Amber’s shoulders, pulling her in a little closer.
“We all have regrets,” she said, “but since you can’t change what you did, it doesn’t do to dwell too much upon what you should have done; you’ll just … you’ll drive yourself to despair if you do that. You’re here now, and safe, and everything else … what matters is the future now, what we do from this point on.”
Amber was silent for a moment. “Do you think that I could find where Dove is?”
Sunset felt a pinching feeling in her stomach as though she were being assailed with crabs inside, snapping at her with their little pincer claws. “I … I’m not sure,” she murmured. “I could look into it, if you like.”
“Would you? Oh, thank you, Sunset,” Amber said. “I’d love to see him again. More than anything else in the world.”
“Mmm,” came Sunset’s wordless response.
A few seconds of silence passed between them, Amber toying with the unicorn in her hands.
“Sunset,” Amber said softly, “how did we get here?”
“We teleported,” Sunset said, relieved to be getting off the topic of Dove. “Using my magic.”
“Your magic?” Amber gasped, looking up at Sunset with wide amber eyes. “Are you a Maiden too?”
“Nope,” Sunset said. “My power is all mine, and a little different from yours.”
“How?”
“I … I’d rather not say, right now,” Sunset said. “It’s … it’s a little personal.”
“You don’t trust me?” Amber asked.
“It’s not that, exactly,” Sunset said. “It’s just not something that I tell to absolutely everybody.”
Amber pouted, but didn’t press the point. She closed her eyes and leaned her head on Sunset’s shoulder. “All right,” she whispered. “I trust you.”
“You can trust me,” Sunset assured her. “You can trust all of us: me, Pyrrha, Jaune, Ruby, Penny, Blake — you haven’t met Blake yet, but she’s really reliable — and all the Atlesians too. You can trust all of us. We’re all here for you.”
“Because I’m the Fall Maiden,” Amber said, “and the Fall Maiden is important.”
“No,” Sunset said, “because you’re lost, and scared, and you need help.” She took her arm off Amber’s shoulder and wriggled sideways a few inches away from her so that they could see each other better. “Amber, look at me.”
Amber looked at her. They were so close that Sunset could see every scar upon her face, every mark that Cinder had inflicted upon her, every wound that would never fade, no matter how many years passed.
“I have never met such brave, selfless, kind people in all my life,” Sunset declared. “These people, these people whom I’m privileged to know, they … every one of them would do anything they could to help a person in need, someone in your position, Fall Maiden or no. Not because you’re important but because you’re a person. Because you need help, and help is in their power to give. And because that’s just the kind of people they are.”
“And the kind of person you are,” Amber said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Sunset let out a sound that was a little more than a chuckle, a little less than a laugh, and a little more bitter than either, “I … no, I don’t deserve to be named in their company, I … I got lucky with them, I … I’m the one who makes the magic happen, that’s all. I bring the fireworks; they all bring the heart.”
“But you’re the one who rescued me,” Amber pointed out. “Not them.”
Sunset snorted. “Well, I … I try my best.”
“You said you were a huntress,” Amber said.
Sunset nodded. “That’s right. We’re all training to be huntsmen and huntresses.”
“Why?”
“Huh?
“Why do you want to be a huntress?” Amber asked. “I remember … I remember seeing what huntsmen and huntresses have to do. When … when Ozpin taught me about the grimm, I didn’t really understand; it wasn’t until I saw them that I realised how terrifying they are, so why do you want to fight them? Why do you want to risk your life fighting for Ozpin?”
Sunset sighed. “We all have our own reasons.”
“So what are yours?”
Sunset laughed. “Yes, I suppose that’s the obvious follow-up question, isn’t it? At first, it was all about the fame and glory. I’d had … I was like you, I suppose. I’d had a falling out with my teacher, someone I trusted and admired; I thought they’d lied to me, and worse, they’d lied about how much they cared for me, and so I left home in a huff, and I found my way here. I wanted to prove how great I was and be recognised for it. All this at first. Now…”
“'Now'?” Amber prompted.
Sunset shrugged. “I’ve found a home here. I’ve found my place here. I belong here. With my team, with my friends. This is where I stand.”
“Your friends,” Amber murmured. “Do they know where your magic comes from?”
“Yes,” Sunset said quietly.
Amber was silent for a moment. “And you serve Ozpin?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Then you know … you know about Salem, you know about the Maidens, you know everything.”
“I think so,” Sunset said.
“Then why?” Amber demanded. “Why are you still here? Why are you still in this fight?”
“Because I’ve got friends who are too brave to turn away,” Sunset said, “and I’m not going to leave them sticking in the wind. Not while I have the power to help them.”
Amber closed her eyes. “He’ll kill you all,” she whispered. “He’ll kill you, and your friends.”
“Professor Ozpin?”
“Everyone who serves him dies.” Amber declared. “He made me a part of this fight like he made my mother, and then…” She paused. “Sunset, is she going to come after me again?”
“Cinder?”
“Is that her name? The one who did this to me?”
“Yeah,” Sunset said, as her mouth turned dry. “That’s her name. And … she might try again if she knew you were awake, or where you were. But she doesn’t, and that’s why we’re going to be careful to make sure she doesn’t find out. And even if she did find out, she’d have a hard time getting into Beacon anyway, and even if she did manage to get into Beacon … we’d protect you from her. So what I’m trying to say is, don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”
The door opened, and Pyrrha and Jaune walked in; the former was carrying a bundle of clothes in her arms.
“Professor Goodwitch found some of your old things in storage,” Pyrrha said, as Jaune shut the door behind them. “Hopefully, it all still fits.”
Sunset got up. “Put them down here,” she said. “Amber’s going to be sleeping in my bed for a while.”
“I see,” Pyrrha said, putting down the neatly folded clothes on top of the duvet. She looked down at Amber kneeling on the floor. “How do you feel?”
“Still cold,” Amber mumbled. “And hungry.”
“Here,” Sunset said, levitating her jacket up off the floor and handing it to Amber. “You dropped this.”
“Thank you.”
“Maybe you’ll feel better once you get dressed,” Pyrrha suggested. “You could take a shower, too, if you like; it’s just through that door. As for being hungry … I don’t think the cafeteria’s open, but I’m sure that I can find something for you. Is there anything in particular you like?”
“Something warm, please,” Amber said.
“She’s a vegetarian,” Sunset pointed out.
Pyrrha glanced at Sunset, then back to Amber.
She nodded. “That’s right. I don’t eat meat since … I haven’t for a long time.”
“I see,” Pyrrha nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Maybe I should take care of that?” Jaune suggested. “If the worst comes to the worst, I can mix something up for you, and Pyrrha and Sunset can stay here with you, I’m not the worst cook ever; in fact, my Mom used to say that I’d be a much better cook than I’d be any of the things that I … actually wanted to be, but the point is, I’m a pretty decent cook, and Pyrrha and Sunset can back me up on that.“
“He is very talented,” Pyrrha agreed.
“Are you sure?” Amber asked. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”
Jaune laughed. “It’s no trouble. You’re our guest, after all.”
“Oh,” Amber said. “Then thank you; that would be wonderful.”
“Okay then,” Jaune said. “Let me see what I can do. I’ll be back as quick as I can.” He left the room as swiftly as he had entered it, the door banging shut behind him.
“Where’s Ruby?” Sunset asked, having only now noticed that she hadn’t come in with Jaune and Pyrrha.
“She needed to talk to her uncle,” Pyrrha said. “Family matters, I believe.”
“I see,” Sunset muttered. It wasn’t the best time, but at the same time, Sunset supposed that it was inevitable given the circumstances. “Listen, will you watch Amber? I need to…” She hesitated, knowing what Amber would likely think of this. “I need to talk to Professor Ozpin.”
“Why?” Amber demanded at once. “What do you have to talk to him about? It’s about me, isn’t it?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Sunset said.
“Why? I thought you were on my side.”
“I’m just going to make sure that he doesn’t bother you anymore,” Sunset lied, because she felt the truth — that she felt she owed Professor Ozpin an apology — wouldn’t have gone down very well.
Amber regarded her warily. “You promise that you won’t be long?”
“No,” Sunset said. “I’ll be back soon.”
Ruby watched Sunset teleport away with Amber.
“I thought that went really well,” Penny said. “Until…”
“Yeah, Penny,” Ruby murmured. “Until…”
“I wonder what she has against Professor Ozpin?” Penny asked quietly.
“She’s been through a lot,” Ruby replied. “Maybe … maybe she’s just … she’s been through a lot.”
“What does that mean?” Penny asked.
“It means…” Ruby hesitated while she tried to find some way to explain it. “It means that you don’t always think clearly, coming out of a situation like hers.”
“I see,” Penny replied. “So do you think she’ll come around?”
“I really don’t know,” Ruby said. “I don’t think anyone can know until … time will tell, I guess.”
“But it will be awkward if she doesn’t, won’t it?” Penny asked.
Ruby sighed. “Yeah,” Ruby said. “Yeah, it could get pretty awkward.”
It could honestly get a lot worse than awkward, all things considered; at some point, even if not until after Cinder was taken care of, Amber was going to have to go back into hiding again; that might be harder to manage if she hated Professor Ozpin and didn’t trust him one bit.
Maybe Sunset could persuade her to be a little nicer to the headmaster. Or maybe Amber would encourage Sunset to go back to distrusting him that way that she had.
Time, as she had said to Penny, would tell.
“Ruby?” Pyrrha asked as she and Jaune started towards the elevator. “Are you coming?”
Ruby shook her head. “I’ll catch up with you guys,” she said. “Uncle Qrow, can we talk?”
Uncle Qrow pulled out his flask and took a swig from it.
“'Talk,' huh? I guess I’ve got time for that.” He screwed the top back onto his flask and put it away. “Oz.”
Professor Ozpin didn’t respond, or even look at Uncle Qrow. He had barely said a word since Amber woke up, and now, he looked so sad that it made Ruby sad to see him like this. She wished that there was something that she could do to make him feel better, but unfortunately, she couldn’t think of anything right now.
“Hey, Oz,” Qrow repeated, slightly louder as though the professor might not have heard him the first time.
Professor Ozpin slowly raised his head and looked at him.
“Your guardian seems a little gun shy,” Qrow said.
Professor Ozpin was silent for a moment. “She’s alive, and awake,” he said quietly. “That is … enough, for today.”
“Okay,” Qrow muttered.
“Professor,” Pyrrha said, as she approached a little closer to Ozpin. “I … I’m sorry that things have turned out this way.”
“We’re all sorry, Professor Ozpin,” Ruby said. “We didn’t mean for things to be this way.”
Professor Ozpin smiled sadly. “Thank you, children. But there is no need to apologise. This is just … the way things are.”
He didn’t seem to want to talk anymore, so as Jaune and Pyrrha headed for the elevator on the right, Ruby walked towards Qrow where he was leaning against the other wall. She looked up at him, waiting, expectant.
He nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get out of here.”
They headed to the elevator on the left, but didn’t speak even when they got inside it and it began to travel upwards. The knowledge that he had known so much, that he had kept so many secrets from her, the fact of what he had been prepared to do to Pyrrha to keep the Maiden powers out of Cinder’s hands … she hadn’t spoken to him since that day, when had told her what he was doing here. She hadn’t known what to say, how to approach him. The idea of Uncle Qrow, smiling Uncle Qrow, fun Uncle Qrow, Uncle Qrow who always played with her when he visited when they were kids, Uncle Qrow who taught her everything she knew about how to use a scythe when she got older, Uncle Qrow who seemed kind of sad underneath it all but who seemed at the same time to be trying to hide it … the idea of Uncle Qrow being willing to do something like that was … she still had a hard time believing, and when she could believe, she didn’t like it, not one bit.
It formed a wall between them. It all formed a wall between them, a wall made up of bricks of years of deception and this big shocking revelation about what kind of … about what he had been prepared to do.
Ruby had no idea how to address it, but she knew that she wanted to.
She knew that she had to.
She wanted to ask him if it was always like this, if he made decisions like that all the time.
She played with her fingers, and she might have pressed all the elevator buttons on the way up except that there were no floors between the vault and the ground with buttons for her to press.
Uncle Qrow didn’t look at her. He had his hands thrust into his jacket pockets, and his back was bent a little as he leaned forwards, and he didn’t say anything to Ruby as the elevator climbed. And when they reached the ground floor, he just walked out, out of the elevator and out of the tower, leaving Ruby to trail behind him as he headed out into the grounds.
She followed him into the courtyard, until he sat down beneath one of the maple trees, where the golden leaves had already started to fall from the trees, if only just.
“This place sure is beautiful,” Uncle Qrow said as he settled his back against the tree trunk and looked out across the courtyard. “I forget that, when I’m away too long. I need to come back just to remind myself. You know, your mom used to sit out here and read when the weather was good. She said she preferred it to being indoors, and me and Raven could both see why. Tai thought we were nuts at first, but … he got it eventually.”
Ruby sat down beside him. “Uncle Qrow—”
“Humour me a second, please,” Qrow urged. “You can do that, right?”
Ruby hesitated for a moment, and then she smiled at him. “Yeah. Sure, I can do that.”
Qrow grinned. He looked away from her, and sighed. “So,” he said. “How’s school?”
“You mean apart from the fact that I’ve gotten involved in a war against an immortal monster?” Ruby asked. “Because that part’s not what I expected.”
Qrow snorted. “Yeah, there’s plenty of time to talk about that later. Apart from that.”
“It’s fine,” Ruby said. “It’s better than fine. It’s been kind of difficult skipping the two years of Combat School, but Sunset helped me out a lot with that, and Pyrrha too. My grades are okay, I guess. I’m acing Grimm Studies.”
“Are you getting into lots of trouble?”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask if I’m staying out of trouble?”
“Maybe I ought to,” Qrow said. “But you know me, right?”
Ruby chuckled. “The only trouble I get into is the kind that Professor Ozpin gets me into.”
Qrow winced. “For shame, kid; when I was a little older than you, I was getting detention every other week! You really mean to tell me that you never put a foot wrong?”
“Well … there was that time we had a big food fight in the cafeteria—”
“Oh, a food fight!” Qrow declared enthusiastically. “Yeah, I remember food fights. They were…” He trailed off. “There are a lot of reasons why I didn’t tell you about all this,” he said, “and there are a lot of reasons why I didn’t want you to know, but one of them is … when I look back on the best years of my life, when I look back on the things I remember … none of my memories are about the work that we did for Oz; they’re about … they’re about being here, with your mom and Raven and Tai just … living, figuring out who we were and who we wanted to be. I wanted you and your sister to have that, without … without this job hanging over your heads all the time.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Ruby said softly, “I guess … I still think you should have told us something, but … I guess I get it. Uncle Qrow; is it always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like … having to ask Pyrrha to get into a machine that might kill her for the good of the world?” Ruby asked. “Is it always hard choices, making trade-offs, weighing the greater good?”
“I hope not, because I’d suck at that,” Qrow muttered.
“I’m serious,” Ruby insisted.
“And so am I,” Qrow replied. “What happened with Amber was a unique situation.” He paused. “What’s just happened with Amber is a unique situation too; everything’s unique these days. My point is … no, it’s not usually like this. At least, it’s not usually like this for me. Maybe Oz has to do that kind of thing, I don’t know, but I … you know that story that you love, the one about the knight, what’s her name, Olive?”
“Olivia?”
“Yeah, that’s it, her, the shepherd girl,” Qrow said. “I’m … I’m Oz’s knight, kind of. Only I don’t have the armour. Or a horse. And to be honest, I’m not much of a kind of guy for honour or chivalry either, so you could say I’m not much of a kind of knight at all, but I serve Oz all the same. I go where he tells me, I do what he tells me, I fight the battles that he needs to be fought and won. And along the way, I do what I can to help those in need. I don’t decide who lives and who dies; I don’t make decisions about what has to be done, what the right thing is, what’s for the greater good. I leave that to Ozpin. I do what I’m told. I’m a fighter, a warrior, and a damn good one too. That’s what I am, that’s what I’m good for, that’s what I do, for Ozpin and the world.”
“You make yourself sound like a soldier,” Ruby remarked.
“Hmm?” Qrow murmured. “Well, now that you’ve said it … now that you’ve said it, I wish you hadn’t, because I hate soldiers, but … yeah, sure. I guess … I guess I am. I’m Ozpin’s soldier.”
“Like one of General Ironwood’s men.”
“Now, I really wish you hadn’t said that,” Qrow said. “I am not like one of those stuffed shirts lining up to kiss Jimmy’s ass. You’ll never catch me saluting Ozpin or calling him 'sir,' for one thing.”
“Do you not like him?”
“Who?”
“General Ironwood.”
“Nah, I like him fine,” Qrow replied. “He’d be a good guy if he could take that stick out of his butt. But I like to make fun of him from time to time, keeps him on his toes. He needs someone to puncture his ego once in a while, because none of his soldiers is gonna do it for him.”
Ruby hesitated. “I … I’m not sure that I like the idea of being a soldier. Having to take orders, not make my own decisions. Don’t you ever wish that you were the one deciding where you went and what you did?”
Qrow shook his head. “We need leadership in this war,” he said. “We need someone who can stand at the top of the tower and look out, seeing everything that’s happening, every battle that has to be fought, every tactic that needs to be countered, everything that has to be done. How am I supposed to know where’s the best place for me to go to stop Salem? How are you?”
“How is Professor Ozpin?” Ruby asked. “He’s just a person, like us.”
“Oz…” Qrow said. “Oz is the wisest man I’ve ever met, and he has knowledge which has been passed down to him from his predecessors. There’s no one better suited to lead this fight or to make these decisions.”
“The hard decisions?” Ruby asked. “Like the ones about Pyrrha?”
“Not even Oz makes those kind of decisions lightly,” Qrow assured her. “Or often.”
Ruby nodded. “I thought that it ought to be easy to make those kind of decisions,” she said. “Do what’s right, what’s best for the greater number, do what will save people … and then you told me about what you were going to do to Pyrrha. And then … then it didn’t seem so easy any more.”
“Raven once told your mom that she didn’t have the stomach to make the hard choices,” Qrow said. “And you know what your mom said?”
“No,” Ruby said. “Because you’ve never told me anything about Mom, remember?”
Qrow winced. “Yeah, well, anyway, your mom looked at Raven and said to her ‘I think that maybe the hardest choice is choosing to care about other people. You certainly seem to find it difficult.’”
Ruby’s eyebrows rose. “That … that was savage.”
“I know,” Qrow said, chuckling. “I thought Raven was gonna hit Summer for a second.”
“Did she?”
“No,” Qrow said. “First, she looked surprised, then she looked angry, then … then she looked annoyed that she’d got angry, and then she stormed off without saying a single word. So I guess you could say your mom had the best of that one.”
He sighed.
“My point is, don’t sweat that you were upset or that you didn’t like it or that you let yourself get talked into holding off on it by your Atlas friend. I…” He paused. “Listen, I know that what I said sounded harsh, about you mattering more to me than that other girl. I … I don’t apologise for that; you’re my niece, you’re Summer’s little girl, you … of course you’re going to mean more to me than someone I don’t know. But I want you to know, I need you to know that I’m not in the habit of throwing lives away just to make your life easier. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I didn’t really like it any more than you did. It’s just that—”
“None of you could see another way,” Ruby murmured. “So what happens now?”
“In the long run, I’m not sure,” Qrow said. “Only Oz can decide that, and I don’t think even he knows at the moment. For now, you need to keep that girl safe. Amber is the most important girl in Vale at the moment, and nothing can happen to her. Not again. So keep an eye on her and watch out for trouble, understand?”
“Got it,” Ruby agreed, nodding. “Nothing is going to happen to her from now. We’ll keep her safe, Uncle Qrow; I promise.”
“Sir,” Rainbow said. “If you have a second, may I have a word?”
The Vault was emptier now than it had been, with Sunset gone, then the rest of Team SAPR, then Qrow Branwen. It was only Team RSPT left with General Ironwood, Professor Goodwitch … and Professor Ozpin, who looked as though he’d frozen up again after Qrow had momentarily shaken him out of it.
General Ironwood glanced at Rainbow. “Just a second, Dash.” He turned away, his attention focussed upon Ozpin. “Oz?”
“I am here, James; my spirit has not yet departed from my body,” Ozpin murmured.
The way he said it didn’t seem to reassure General Ironwood very much. He clasped his hands together behind his back, and clasped them tightly too — as Rainbow could see because the General had his back to her.
“We need to talk about what happens next,” General Ironwood said. “In terms of security and in terms of Amber’s health.”
“Later, James,” Professor Ozpin declared. “Amber … Amber has just been through a terrible experience. You are right, decisions will need to be taken, but for now … let her be. She has that right, if nothing else.”
General Ironwood nodded. “And you?”
“What of me?” Professor Ozpin asked. “I have not been newly reawakened after a year of sleep, sinking ever closer towards death.”
“No,” General Ironwood conceded. “But … I know you were fond of her.”
“More than fond,” Professor Goodwitch added. “Professor … we are your servants, but I hope it doesn’t overstep the bounds to say that after long service, in this war and — for my part — in this school, we are your comrades also. If you wish to … we can be here for you, if you need it.”
Professor Ozpin’s expression did not alter. “Thank you, Glynda, that is very generous, but I … I do not require any assistance.”
Are you sure about that? Rainbow thought. Because you look like … you look like someone you loved just told you that they hate your guts. Rainbow imagined that she’d probably look every bit as poleaxed if Twilight or Pinkie told Rainbow that they didn’t want to see her around no more, like she’d just been whacked on the head, like she didn’t know what to do.
Who was she to you?
“She’ll come around, Oz,” General Ironwood said.
“Are you so sure of that, James?” asked Professor Ozpin, sounding very much unsure of that.
“Our children are smart,” General Ironwood said. “They know the score, they know the situation. In time, they’ll understand why we did what we did.”
Probably, sir, but I’d still like to talk to you about it.
“I hope … you may be right, James,” Professor Ozpin murmured. “That will all, thank you. You may attend to your students, if you wish.”
General Ironwood hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Alright then. Dash … Soleil, Twilight? Penny?”
“I … would not object, sir,” Ciel said, after a moment’s hesitation.
“Nor I,” Twilight said quietly.
Penny hesitated, seeming uncertain for a moment. “I … no. It’s fine, sir.”
She doesn’t need to know because she’s leaving, Rainbow thought. Fair enough; it’s not much matter to her any more. She made up her mind about the General the same as she made up her mind about Atlas.
And that was her choice. It was Professor Ozpin that Penny needed to be concerned with now.
“Very well,” General Ironwood said. “Dash, Soleil, Twilight, with me.”
He led the way into the elevator, the one that Ruby and her uncle hadn’t taken; that had the disadvantage of leaving Penny momentarily alone with Professor Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch, but Rainbow was sure that Professor Goodwitch would take good care of her until the other elevator returned, which shouldn’t be long.
In any case, the three Atlesians got in after General Ironwood, with the General himself turned to face them all, his back against the elevator wall as it began to ascend.
“Do you want to discuss what just happened down there, Dash?” asked the General.
“Actually, sir,” Rainbow said, swallowing, “I was hoping to talk about a little before that, about before Sunset came up with this whole plan.”
“You mean you want to talk about Ozpin’s plan,” General Ironwood said. “Our plan.”
“General,” Twilight murmured. “That machine was not built to be used on another person. The effects … there is a chance that they could have been minimal for Pyrrha, but equally, there’s a chance they could have been catastrophic. Not to mention the fact that even if Pyrrha suffered minimal ill-effects or side-effects other than possession of the Fall Maiden’s power, the process would have killed Amber.”
“Amber was dying already,” General Ironwood pointed out. “It wasn’t believed that there was a way to save her, and when there was, Ozpin took it.”
“Yes, sir, but … if you will forgive me bringing my faith into this, this business … it has a whiff of the unholy about it,” Ciel said. “To create life using a machine is one thing, to create a machine to preserve life, that is something honourable and noble and pleasing to the eyes of heaven, but … to meddle in the soul is to meddle in things that we do not have the wisdom to use well, which, being the case, we should at least be wise enough to leave it be.”
“And let magic fall into the hands of our enemies,” General Ironwood said. “And let the ability to access one of the four relics fall into the hands of our enemies? I understand your misgivings, believe me; what we asked of Miss Nikos was not something that I, or Ozpin, or anyone else took lightly. It was a last resort in a desperate situation.”
“Throwing a life away, sir?” Rainbow asked. “One of our comrade’s lives? Someone who’s fought alongside us?”
General Ironwood was silent for a moment. He looked down.
“Was it…?” Rainbow hesitated. “Was it really that desperate, sir?”
General Ironwood didn’t reply to that. Instead, he said, “I understand why you have misgivings. I understand why you feel the way that you do. I’m not going to tell you that your feelings are invalid; I’m not going to don a cloak of moral righteousness and tell you that everything I’ve done has been right and good and just and that to question me is tantamount to treason. In your position, I’d probably react much the same. But as a senior officer, I have to take account of the good not just of all my soldiers, all my students, but also of the good of Atlas, and as a member of Ozpin’s inner circle, I have to have regard for the safeguarding of the four relics, of the magic of the four Maidens.”
“The magic, sir,” Rainbow said, “but not the Maidens themselves?”
“They are one and the same,” General Ironwood said. “In most circumstances.” He paused a moment. “In my position, in Ozpin’s position, with no chance of Sunset Shimmer providing a solution, what would you have done differently? Rather than ask Miss Nikos, or anyone else, to get into the pod, what would you have done?”
Rainbow considered it for a moment. “I … I would have let Cinder get the powers, and then when she got overconfident and tried to go for the relic, I’d hit her with everything we had. Take her out, take the powers back. The magic doesn’t make her invulnerable, sir, or else how were the powers taken back the last time? The way I understand it, there was a point when all four Maidens were evil, but they were killed, and the magic was put back into the hands of trustworthy people. It can be done.”
“It can,” Ironwood said. “But what makes you think Cinder would get overconfident?”
“She accepted a challenge to single combat from Pyrrha for no other reason than she wanted to prove how awesome she was, sir,” Rainbow pointed out. “It was kind of nuts on both their parts already, but knowing that Cinder had half the maiden magic, and that if she’d died, it would have all gone back to Amber? She put Salem’s plans at risk for her ego, and her ego would swell up twice as large once she became the Fall Maiden for real, no caveats. I think my read on her is right, sir; she’d feel invincible, and she’d forget that she wasn’t.”
General Ironwood nodded. “I’m not saying that you’re wrong. You might even be right. And if you rise up in rank and if you continue to work as part of this group, then there will come a time when you can make your case to whoever stands in Ozpin’s shoes one day. That’s the privilege of command, that you can stake out your ground and stand by it; the burden of command is that by the time you’re in that position, you might not feel the same way anymore.”
“If we want to keep working for this group, sir?” Rainbow asked.
“I can’t force you,” General Ironwood said. “If you want to back out, then so long as you give me your word to keep our secrets, I won’t stop you, and neither will Professor Ozpin. No one will fault you if you want no part in this.”
“That would be easy, wouldn’t it, sir?” Rainbow asked. “But it would also mean that I wouldn’t get the chance to make my case, to you or anyone else, and I wouldn’t have the right to complain or protest if the people who did stick around decided to ask Pyrrha to get into the pod. No, sir; I’m in on this.”
General Ironwood nodded. “And I’m glad to still have you onboard, Dash. I’m glad to have all of you.”
Penny regretted having let the others leave on the elevator without her, as it meant that she was left alone with Professor Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch.
It wasn’t that she had any objection to either of them — they were going to be her teachers, after all — but that didn’t mean that she knew how to be alone with them.
Especially since Professor Ozpin seemed so sad.
She … kind of understood. She wasn’t sure if she understood how people felt well enough yet to completely understand, but she kind of understood. Professor Ozpin had wanted to be so happy here. He had expected to be so happy. He had thought that this was going to be wonderful, absolutely wonderful. But instead … instead, it had all turned out awful.
Penny had never had her expectations disappointed, but she thought that, if she did, if having got her hopes up, everything had just fallen to pieces, shattered like glass, then she would be pretty down about it too.
It must be awful for him, to be let down after having expected so much, hoped for so much.
Of course, she didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it, if anything, but … if he’d done something to Amber — besides being willing to kill her to give her magic to Pyrrha, which … wasn’t wonderful, but at the same time, it wasn’t something that Amber knew about, and also, he’d … not given Amber a choice, but he probably would have if he could, and it seemed as though he’d thought she was as good as dead anyway — then why would he have expected her to be all smiles when she woke up?
If he had done things to her that would make hate him, then why would he care what she thought? You didn’t hurt people you cared about, only the ones that you didn’t care for, or didn’t even see as people at all.
Maybe he deserved it. Maybe. But Penny didn’t know that. What she knew was that he looked so sad, and while a part of her wished that she wasn’t here to have to watch it, another part of her, a bigger part, wished that she could do something to help him.
Silently, she walked across the vault. To Penny, it sounded like her footsteps were echoing loudly off the walls and ceiling of this enormous chamber, but neither of the two professors paid her any notice at all.
They didn’t notice her until she reached Professor Ozpin and reached out to put her hands around his.
“It’s going to be alright, Professor,” she said. “I’m sure that things will turn out for the best.”
“I wish that I could share your optimism, Miss Polendina,” Professor Goodwitch said. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing where you come by it?”
“I look,” Penny said. “I look around, and I see a world filled with incredibly kind people where things mostly work out for the best, where people survive dangerous missions, where people make friends and fall in love, where people … who realise that they were hurting others apologise and make up for it. I see a world where nothing stays sad forever, or even for very long.”
Professor Ozpin looked at her, and looked like he was trying to smile, even if he couldn’t quite manage it. “Thank you, Miss Polendina,” he said softly. “I appreciate the offer of comfort. But for now, if you would excuse me, I require some solitude.”
“Are you sure, Professor?” Professor Goodwitch asked.
“Yes,” Professor Ozpin said. “Yes, I must … I must seek for comfort in my own way … if I can.”
Amber stood in the shower, letting the water wash down her back and seep through her hair to drip, drip, drip onto the floor.
She bowed her head, wishing that the hot water which pressed, needle-like, down upon her back could wash away her fears as easily as it washed away the dirt.
She had both her arms resting on the wall, as if she couldn’t stand on her own. Maybe she couldn’t; she’d hardly tried. She’d always held onto something.
Her whole life holding onto someone else.
In spite of the heat of the shower, which she had turned up to its maximum temperature, she still felt cold, and the hunger in her stomach was like an aching pit.
She felt so cold, so cold and so lonely. Cold and lonely and tired. So tired, even though she had just woken up. Cold and lonely and tired and scared and angry.
“'Oh, brave new world,'” she whispered bitterly.
She bowed her head as the water droplets trickled down her face. They might have almost looked like tears.
She wanted to get away from this place. She wanted to go home, to the cottage in the woods. She wanted Dove, to see him again, to sing to him. She wanted … she wanted to be able to trust Uncle Ozpin again, to be able to love him and to believe that he loved her. She wanted to sit in front of the fire and read with him while they drank hot cocoa. She wanted everything to be the way it was.
Stupid. Things would never be the same again. Even if she could forgive him for what he’d done to her … she could never escape it.
She would never be free from this. She would always be the Fall Maiden.
She would always be hunted.
She turned her head, and Amber caught sight of her reflection, dimly in the shower screen even as the mist began to cloud it over … except it wasn’t her reflection; it was Cinder, Cinder smirking at her as the mist rose all around her, Cinder staring at her as though she were prey or meat.
Amber leapt back with a cry of alarm, slipping on the wet floor of the shower and toppling onto her rear, sliding down the wall until she was a tangle of arms and legs on the floor looking up, staring into the mist, waiting for Cinder to stride out of it. Her breath caught in her throat.
There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Amber?” Pyrrha asked. “Is everything alright?”
Amber breathed in and out. She stared. There was no sign of Cinder, nor even her reflection.
“Yes,” she said, quietly. She raised her voice. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for checking up on me.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” Pyrrha said. “If you need anything, just shout for me.”
I need someone to keep me safe. I need someone to protect me. Can you do that?
Can anyone do that?
Sunset’s stomach became increasingly unsettled as she rode the elevator up to the top of the tower. She didn’t know for certain that Professor Ozpin would be up there — it would make just as much sense for him to still be down below in the vault, brooding — but she thought that he might have retreated to his high sanctum after the disappointment of today.
She felt ill. She felt guilty. She felt responsible. Mostly because she was guilty and responsible. She had had the idea, she had championed the idea, she had brought in Princess Celestia to persuade Ozpin to give her the go ahead, and for a while after that conversation, he had seemed renewed and reinvigorated, a younger man suffused with hope.
And now, that hope was shattered anew, and it was all Sunset’s fault.
What must he think of her right now?
It was not something that she could have said to Amber in her current state, but she thought that the Fall Maiden was being too harsh on him, just as Sunset had been far, far too harsh on Princess Celestia. Mistakes did not equal a lack of love, still less its absence. They simply meant that even the wisest were not infallible. Princess Celestia had erred in failing to see early enough that Sunset was not meant to wear the crown or bear the wings of destiny; Professor Ozpin had erred in failing to see that the weight of the Fall mantle would crush Amber beneath it, and it might be said that he had erred the greater in not realising this before he made her the Fall Maiden, or put her in such a position where she might become Fall; but in the end, they were just mistakes, not malice. Princess Celestia had turned out to love Sunset no less, and Professor Ozpin seemed to love Amber no less.
And if Princess Celestia hadn’t thought at one point that I had greatness in me, then we would never have had our time together, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
But how would any of that bring comfort to Professor Ozpin right now? How would any of that make him hate Sunset any the less for what she had done?
The elevator door opened, and the chime seemed almost as though it was ringing for her execution.
Sunset stepped out into the headmaster’s office. Professor Ozpin was there, but he had his back to her; his chair was turned right round so that he was looking out of the window.
Sunset advanced, stopping a few feet away from the desk. She found herself standing like the Atlesians did, with her feet spaced out and her hands clasped behind her back.
Professor Ozpin said nothing. Had he not heard the elevator door open?
Sunset cleared her throat.
“I know you’re there, Miss Shimmer,” Ozpin said softly. He sounded infinitely tired.
Sunset looked down at her feet. “I feel I owe you an apology, Professor,” she murmured. An apology was the least she owed, but it was all she could offer right now.
Professor Ozpin’s chair swung round until he was facing her. He looked as though he had been crying. “'An apology'? And what do you think you have to apologise to me for, Miss Shimmer?”
For a moment, Sunset was silenced by her incredulity at the words that had just come out of his mouth. “I … well, for what happened down in the vault.”
“You promised me that you would bring Amber back,” Professor Ozpin said. “And you did. As far as I am concerned, you played your part … magnificently. You don’t owe me an apology, Miss Shimmer. Rather, I owe you my thanks, for bringing Amber back to me.”
“But…” Sunset stammered. “But she—”
“Hates me?”
“I, um, I wasn’t going to use a word that strong, but … something like that.”
“And so, because of that, I should wish her dead?” Professor Ozpin asked. “I should wish her dead, and perhaps Miss Nikos too, or both of them dead and something new emerged out of their personalities because at least I would not be disdained by it? Do you think so little of me, Miss Shimmer, that you think my thoughts would run down such dark lines?”
Sunset shuffled on the spot. “No, Professor.”
“I’m glad to hear it. And besides, Amber has the right to be angry with me,” Professor Ozpin said. “She has been through so much, endured so much … but even if she did not have the right to her anger, that would still not be your fault. You did all you could; I cannot expect you to not only save Amber but to restore the relationship that we once had … the fault is mine for forgetting that our relationship was broken before Amber was attacked.”
“She couldn’t handle it, could she, Professor?” Sunset asked.
She was aware that she was trespassing on dangerous ground here, that she could very easily by her prying arouse the ire that had not fallen on her for what had happened in the vault. Nevertheless, she wanted to know; she wanted to have her … her suspicions confirmed.
But Professor Ozpin did not seem angry. He barely seemed to react at all, and when he answered, it was in the same melancholy tone as before. “It is a heavy burden, and not for everyone. Not for the wicked, certainly, but even for the good … not everyone can comfortably walk in the shoes of a prophet. And yet, I had been so sure with Amber; I had watched her for so long…”
“She was your student,” Sunset said. “Not at Beacon, but … in the way that I was Celestia’s student, in the way that she was watching me to see if I could achieve ascension … that was why you visited her so often. You were teaching her, but also seeing if she was the right kind of person to become Fall Maiden.”
“I hoped she would be,” Professor Ozpin confirmed. “When I found her, a crying babe, the sole survivor of a grimm attack, it seemed like a miracle. We had endured so many losses recently that finding her … something about her seemed almost miraculous. Merida, the Fall Maiden, took her to raise as her own daughter; she too had been drawn by this child, this life in the midst of devastation and destruction; she would suffer none other to raise the girl. She had always wanted a child, but the life of a Maiden … it is rare for them to have the opportunity.
“It was not my first thought, but living together, it was, if not inevitable then at least very likely that Amber would be the last person in Merida’s thoughts when she died, the inheritor of Merida’s magic. It was pointed out to me as a reason to separate them, but I thought that … I hoped that … it was a kind of experiment, I suppose. An experiment in a natural innocence, someone untainted by the world in all its cruelty. Yes, you are correct; I watched her, from afar and sometimes from close by. And in the watching, I came to … to love her.”
“Something else Princess Celestia would recognise, I think,” Sunset murmured.
She did not say so, but she could not help thinking that Professor Ozpin’s mistake had been in thinking that by this experiment he was creating someone pure of heart and not just someone sheltered and naïve. It was all very well to be raised in the woods with only your mother-figure for company, with occasional visits from your father-figure to tell you of a world that you could never see, and no doubt, Amber had been happy in such a life. But it did not make you an innocent, except perhaps in the sense that you had never had to deal with life and its troubles. That was why, Sunset believed, Princess Celestia had sent Twilight Sparkle to live in Ponyville, not only to be with her friends but also to suffer life in all its tiny tribulations. Yes, Twilight’s life was very peaceful and content compared to Ruby’s life, or just the life of the average person in Remnant, but nevertheless, the life she had led, the friends she had made, the lessons she had learned had prepared Twilight to ascend and become a princess.
You couldn’t call yourself an honest person until you were faced with a situation where it would be advantageous to lie. You couldn’t call yourself loyal until you were tempted to betray your friends, your principles, something. It was easy to be kind when everyone you knew was unfailingly kind to you. It was easy to be generous when you lived on the generosity of others. You didn’t really know what laughter was until you wept. Amber had not asked for any of this, but neither had she been tested in a manner that would have sufficed in Equestria, let alone in Remnant. She had not had the chance to learn a single lesson that would have prepared her for this exalted state.
It was as Sunset had long thought, ever since reading the myths of the Maidens: Remnant had it backwards, in rewarding you with great power and then expecting you to go out and do something great; in Equestria, you did something great and then you ascended in acknowledgement of your greatness. A much more sensible system.
She kept all these chauvinistic thoughts to herself, of course.
“Amber,” she said quietly. “She’s upset right now, she’s been through a lot and Twilight’s right, she doesn’t remember everything. She does remember … Professor, did you know that the boy she was in love with is here at Beacon? Dove Bronzewing of Team Bluebell?”
“Yes,” Professor Ozpin confessed. “Yes, I know, although I did not know at first. Merida told me that there was a boy, a boy from a village beyond the woods; we had thought that the villagers feared the woods and shunned them, but apparently, this young man was different.”
“Like the boy in The Warrior in the Woods,” Sunset said.
Professor Ozpin looked as though he might smile. “Yes,” he murmured. “Yes, I suppose you’re right, Miss Shimmer. In any case, Merida did not tell me his name; she assured me she was dealing with it, and there, the matter rested. I never met the young man in question. But Mister Bronzewing … he came to see me, when the year began; he was searching for Amber. I … I told him nothing. I could not take the risk.”
“I haven’t told Amber that he’s here,” Sunset said, “Nor have I told Dove that Amber is here, either, obviously. I thought that I should wait until I’d spoken to you before I did anything—”
“That is very kind of you, Miss Shimmer.”
“But … I understand that there are reasons to keep silent,” Sunset said. “It was those reasons, as much as anything, that held my tongue with Amber earlier, Dove being ignorant of all these truths under which we labour, but … nevertheless, Professor, I, having had the walk over here and the elevator ride up to your lofty perch to consider upon the matter … I should like to bring them together without delay.”
Professor Ozpin was silent for a moment. “I … am not so sure that would be wise, Miss Shimmer.”
“Indeed, Professor, I will concede the point, but I might retort that we are at a point where wisdom and we have parted company, and only a choice of gentle follies or of cruel ones awaits us,” Sunset said. “She loves him.”
“She believes she loves him,” Professor Ozpin replied. “It is the privilege of youth in its naïve inexperience to burnish with the name of love the first flush of young affection.”
“And it is the tiresome privilege of old age in all its condescending cynicism to deny that the young may feel true passions and understand what they feel, for all that they lack years and disappointments both,” Sunset replied, her voice sharpening a little. “Amber is young, yes, as Pyrrha is young, as Jaune is young, and yet, they are in love. Young, inexperienced, but their feelings no less true for it. They are in love, as Amber is in love; I have felt it. I have been into her soul, Professor, which no one else can say, and I have felt the waves of her devotion upon the shores of my soul.”
“Can you say that Mister Bronzewing is likewise in love?” Professor Ozpin said. “Have you looked into his soul as well?”
“No, Professor, as you well know,” Sunset said. “But … from what I saw in his memories … Amber does not recall him once attempting to take advantage of her, to use her roughly, to be ungentle, or ungentlemanly. Rather, from what I saw, he seemed quite devoted.”
“‘Seemed,’” Professor Ozpin repeated. “He seemed devoted. And yet, what may seem is not necessarily what is, is it, Miss Shimmer?”
“I do not deny that not all that looks like love is true as gold,” Sunset admitted. “Some … some is mere fool's gold in the end. I admit that freely. I have mistaken the two in my own life, I own that fact, but … all I say is that that is not what I felt in Amber’s soul and not what I observed in the interactions that she had with Dove that I perceived in her memories.”
“And so for the sake of love, you would have me break secrecy and admit Mister Bronzewing into these mysteries, Miss Shimmer?” Professor Ozpin asked. “Is that correct?”
Sunset shuffled a little on the balls of her feet, feeling that she was not doing very well so far; she didn’t seem to be making much of an impression on Professor Ozpin. “He need not be told everything, Professor. Of the Maidens yes, but if Amber will keep quiet about Salem and the rest, I do not see that he needs to know it.”
“To know of the Maidens is to know quite enough,” Professor Ozpin replied. “And I … you will forgive, Miss Shimmer, the condescending cynicism of old age,” — it was his own turn to sharpen his voice, to emphasise Sunset’s words as he threw them back in her face — “but I have lived through more years than you, and I have seen…” He paused, and sighed, and turned his chair around so that Sunset could no longer see his face; his reflection in the window was rendered vague and indistinct by his distance from it, Sunset could obtain no nuances there.
“I have seen what seemed like love. I have seen what seemed like the greatest love in the history of the world, a true love story for the ages … I have seen such turn to hate and bitterness, a cancer spreading where affection only once ran deep, poisoning all the weeds in the garden.”
“Are you talking about Raven Branwen and Ruby’s father, Professor?” Sunset asked.
Professor Ozpin let out a bitter laugh. “Would that I were, Miss Shimmer, no, no for all her faults … for all her faults, Raven did not kill her daughter as she departed.”
Sunset did not reply to that. There was nothing that she could think to say. This was … this was an instance where youth and inexperience truly rendered her dumbstruck. Infanticide? To hate your husband so much that you would kill your own child or children? Sunset could not fathom the depths of such hatred; even Cinder, who hated many things and many people, would surely not hate someone who had come out of herself so much that she would strike it down to spite another. Such hate … what could breed such anger in a person?
Sunset had been left abandoned, a bawling filly in her swaddling clothes, outside the palace gate; she knew that the mere act of motherhood did not always breed love in the mother, but even the mare who had borne her had been moved enough to make the effort to secure for Sunset a comfortable existence and a bright future.
Fillies and foals were not left behind in Equestria; though their parents might be absent, there would never be any shortage of willing hooves and open hearts to care for their needs.
To kill a child, your own child? Such was the act of monsters greater than any that Equestria had banished to Remnant.
When Sunset found her tongue again, she also found herself darting around the edges of what Professor Ozpin had said. “I think … I think you do Dove wrong to suggest that he is such a man to betray Amber,” she said softly. “Though I do not know him well, what I have seen of him has been of a man generous and goodhearted. With no insult to Jaune intended by the comparison, I think he is as worthy to know your secrets as Jaune is.”
Professor Ozpin turned his chair to face Sunset once again, wiping at his eye with one hand.
“Yet still you ask me to trust love, Miss Shimmer,” Professor Ozpin said quietly. “You ask me to trust love with much that is of great import to the world, and I fear … that is not something I am able to do.”
“Then what will you do, Professor?” asked Sunset. “What will you bid me do? Lie to Amber? Keep them apart? I am not sure the school is large enough to make that practical, and even if it were … I make no great claim upon my virtue, Professor. I have done things you know well enough, and things that you do not know perhaps, and amongst those things, I have, Celestia forgive me, told lies by the airship-load, even to those who love me best and have most claim upon my honesty.” Wow, put like that, it doesn’t make me sound good does it?
What an awful person I am.
Sunset thrust her hands into her jacket pockets, bowing her head, letting her ears droop into her hair and her tail droop limply down towards the office floor, her face falling like her opinion of herself, a chill wind descending on her soul.
Sunset closed her eyes a moment and reminded herself that it was Amber, not her, who mattered now. She looked up — Professor Ozpin had kindly waited for her to continue — and said, “And yet, Professor … I fear that I may have reached the limits of my vices.”
“To find one’s conscience should never be a thing to fear, Miss Shimmer,” Professor Ozpin informed her gently. “Although … why now? If I may ask, and why is this the matter that so offends you? Surely you can see—”
“Yes, Professor, I can see why you do not wish to tell anyone anything more than you have already told them, but this … leaving aside the practicalities — or don’t leave them aside, if they will persuade you more than high-minded arguments; how easy do you think it is likely to be to keep the two of them apart? — it is a cruel thing. Amber is … lost. This world is not hers, this life was not of her choosing, by … by your design, although I know you meant no ill by it, nevertheless, by your design, she was given power and thrust into this conflict; as a result, she was attacked, she nearly lost her life, and now … now, she is lonely and frightened, and her life will never be what she would wish or imagined it might be. Now … I have the kindest team, and I have no doubt that they will make Amber welcome, but to deny her someone who would support her, stand by her side, soothe the sting of … all else that hangs over her, you would not deny her that? I know that you are not a cruel man, Professor, though you have made some decisions that might be called cruel for reasons … be kind, Professor, I beg of you. Do not become that which Amber believes you to be.”
Professor Ozpin hesitated. He did not agree, but he did not refuse her outright either.
Sunset pressed home her advantage. “And if that does not move you, then one more practical point: if Amber finds Dove, as she might, if fate and chance should have them meet, and she finds out that I have lied to her in your instruction … she will revile me as much as she does you. Though she trusts me now, that trust will not survive such a discovery.”
“And that would never do,” Professor Ozpin murmured. “You are correct, Miss Shimmer; she would think that you are nothing more than my lackey, set to manage her on my behalf, and I cannot have that. You must stay close to her, for her own sake; you must retain her trust so that you can protect her, at least for now.” He paused. “You are certain of Mister Bronzewing’s heart?”
“I do not claim to know his heart, Professor, only Amber’s,” Sunset admitted, “but what I have observed of his conduct puts me at ease.”
Professor Ozpin nodded. “Then introduce them. Reintroduce them, rather. Amber may ask why you did not do so immediately, but you may blame me for the minor delay; let the odium in which I am held shield you in Amber’s good opinion.”
Sunset frowned slightly. “She will forgive you, Professor, and remember that you love her, and she loves you also.”
Professor Ozpin almost smiled. “Whence comes this optimism, Miss Shimmer?”
“I forgave,” Sunset replied. “I understood that that which I had hated and resented was, in itself, love, and an attempt to protect me, even from myself. I forgave, and I understood, and now, love flows between us once again.”
“Well, we can only hope, can’t we?” Professor Ozpin said lightly; so lightly that Sunset thought he might not be taking her entirely seriously. The lightness ebbed from his tone as he asked, “How is she?”
“Cold, hungry, curious,” Sunset said. “Pyrrha is with her now, while Jaune is trying to rustle up something to eat for her.” She paused. “I could put in a good word for you with her, if you—”
“No,” Professor Ozpin said at once. “No, Miss Shimmer, that is not necessary. Pay me no mind; focus on Amber; make her welcome, stand with her in the battle that may come … and make her happy, if you can. But most of all, please take good care of her.”
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oh no, Amber is effected by the same thing that's happening to Cinder, this is going to be bad.
one possibility though, if it all gets to much they could just take Amber to Equestia.
edit: I wonder if Rainbow is being affected by Sonata. it would go a ways to explain just how antagonistic she is getting.
9765406
It is strongarming when actively levying their fears of loss against them, while not fully extrapolating on the specifics of the dangers they are inviting. And strongarming is manipulation.
I'm not saying it isn't a job that doesn't need done, but I am actively saying that forcing a square peg into a round hole out of desperation isn't the right way to fix any problem.
Definitely saw several points within this chapter:
Amber is not going to trust any member of Ozpin's inner circle anytime soon and it's going to be SAPR's interactions with her that may change that
Dash's loyalties will be tested if a choice between her friends and Atlas is issued
Qrow wants to give both Yang and Ruby a better childhood than he had
That’ll get awkward in about three seasons.
9765536
I was thinking the same thing, but she had that cleansed from her, I think? If she can't taste anything, then it'd be confirmed, but as is it's hard to separate Grimm machinations from traumatized girl who has every right to be cold, hungry, and afraid.
Not getting a good feeling from Amber right now. Her feelings towards Ozpin are one thing....but making SAPR hers and hers alone....that's going to be an issue.
9765536
I think Sonata's definitely had an influence, but not as big as one as the average Vale citizen on the streets. It's more...subtly playing up the distrust Rainbow already feels towards Sunset.
Honesty, Sunset really shouldn't feel guilty for saving Amber.
And wow Rainbow sure is brainwashed, even seeing Sunset literally save someone in front of her can't break Rainbow of it.
9766099
I think the reason why Dash doesn't trust Sunset is in the idea that they are similar in terms of loyalty to their friends and Dash cannot accept the possibility of them having similar traits personality wise
9766123
Sunset admitted that she has more loyalty to her friends than to Beacon and Rainbow Dash is scared of what she will do if she faces a similar choice?
Take heart from this day, one and all. It doesn't matter that we still have a long journey ahead. For today, we had a miracle. Today, we accomplished what others said couldn't be done and returned a wayward soul back to the land of the living. To Ozpin, Rainbow Dash, Qrow and even Amber, just remember to have faith.
There can be miracles when you believe.
9766155
Pretty much. Remember how Discord twisted Pony Rainbow when he first arrived. Choose between her friends and her hometown, it broke Pony Rainbow, yet this version of Rainbow saw Sunset in a similar position and she chose her friends with hardly any hesitation.
She hates Sunset right now, because she doesn't know what she would choose, despite having already made the same choice by not stopping Sunset already. Her anger at herself, as well as her confusion over why she didn't is being projected on Sunset. Adding Sunset's history of being a bully and she makes an easy scapegoat for Rainbow's internal conflict.
I see something very dangerous developing here, I see that Amber is completely and utterly alone and broken in a world she doesn't understand and this leads to many problems. It's established she doesn't trust Ozpin and that there's a strong likelihood she doesn't trust Sunset and seems obsessed with finding the One. I hope she doesn't fixate on Juane in a creepy phyco-manner it's overdone and really quite tacky in my opinion. I also see her going insane from paranoia as she's already unstable and just offing herself.
9766664
I think Dash's hate on for Sunset stems from her choice of accepting the fact that Sunset has change, in a degree, into a better person
If she accepts the idea then Dash is also accepting the possibility of being proven wrong about other facts she believes correct, such as the belief of Atlas' benevolence and her own confidence in what's right and wrong
If she denies the idea then she becomes a hypocrite for calling Sunset out on something she would do, protecting your friends no matter the danger
Did anyone else notice that the young woman most likely to be in the thoughts of both Cinder and Amber (ie, the holders of the two halves of the Fall Maiden powers) at any particular moment, is now Sunset Shimmer?
9769211
It would be interesting to see Sunset gain that portion of the fall maiden's power if either were to fall
For Cinder, Sunset would gain the power to avenge her and to give Amber a pseudo guardian to either protect her or be a means to release herself from the burden of being the fall maiden
For Amber, Susent would still gain a means to avenge her while also giving her a means to save Cinder, if she was not the cause of Amber's death, from her corruption
Sunset really has matured, hasn't she?
It also puts her in an awkward position because... well, she's the only one to ever truly see Cinder as Ashley. I wonder how the rest of her team would handle it if she actually sat down and told them some of the things she knew Salem has done to her to make her the way she is; To abandon so much of your Humanity and replacing it with Grimm that feeling compassion for the former is a miracle in its own right while empathy can be given to fellow creatures of darkness freely.
Honestly, I kind of want to see Cinder redeemed less being her joining the forces of light and harmony as much as its her ascending to become the Princess of the Grimm. Because the Grimm are interesting in that their hatred of humanity by and large is because of their abandonment by their god. The Dark Brother left because of Humanity and abandoned the Grimm in the process: Unlike the Humans of the Era, the Dark Brother didn't wipe them out like they did everyone but Salem. Either culturally or just a few ancient individuals, they remember.
I wouldn't be surprised if the Grimm were loyal to Salem less out of actual loyalty to her (be it legit or magical enforced) and more because they want the Dark Brother to return to the world and she's their best ticket to do it.
This is such a beautifully mature improvement of the original version. Well done! I'm also delighted to see how much Sunset has matured, not to mention that the portrayal of Qrow has certainly evolved! I was always sad he had such little screen time in the last version. And of course, I'm loving how this is hinting at more interaction between Ozpin and Penny!
That excerpt right there speaks to me on such a deep level. Thank you.
Anyway, I'm delighted to see that the seeds for Dove and Amber planted ever since Initiation in this rewrite have sprouted at last! I look forward to seeing how it further develops! I also never forgot another hint from that point in the rewrite...
While I am pleased she no longer has that horrible semblance and her character will be more evolved and sympathetic, her deeds and foolishness are no less unforgivable or self-serving. Even Ruby could never compare to such dangerous naivety. The sheltered girl believes she can do no wrong, and always finds someone else to blame.
11550745
The Grimm were created by the God of Darkness explicitly to hunt down the creations of the God of Light, which includes humanity, so while the tale talks about resentment and envy of their creator new toy, the fact is that even if they don't have any affection towards the God of Darkness they would STILL want humanity dead. It's the most basic part of their nature, and I don't see how anyone could change that without reworking the Grimm from the start so thoroughly that you end up with something completely new as replacement.
I am a bit surprised that Sunset didn't consider using her semblance on Dove to confirm he is as he appears. She could truly know his and ambers souls. Still largely unnecessary.
I think of all the rewritten characters, Amber is quickly becoming my favorite. This chapter does a great job of starting to flesh her out anew and I cannot wait to hear more of her story.
Side note: I had completely forgotten you put a Long Road to Friendship easter egg in this fic, at least Sunset doesn't have full blown conversations with this one (although I do love its inclusion)
Okay, I feel like I’m really missing something here. Was Dove not the character killed during the Breach? I recall that being the case, and that greatly confuses me given the heavy reliance of some of the dialogue on that not being the case.
11552266
No, Sky died during the Breach, Dove is alive.
I am loving the parallels between Sunset and Amber and Ozpin being Amber's Celestia. A girl finds herself in an unfamiliar place, lost, confused and lonely, but feeling hatred and mistrust towards her teacher. Quite familiar, no?
"Um, I think Amber needs something TO wear"
11581498
Nah, I'm fine with her being naked.