SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Congratulations (New)

Congratulations

Phoebe lay on the ground, the gravity platforms, overshadowed by said platforms as she was by so much else.

She lay in shadow, listening to the cheering of the crowd.

Cheering that was not for her.

It was Pyrrha that they cheered for: Pyrrha again, Pyrrha as always, Pyrrha once more, Pyrrha and that cursed faunus who flaunted Phoebe's birthright in front of her.

She had lost, again. She had failed, again. Pyrrha had triumphed over her once more, and now, she reaped the rewards: the love of the commons, applause falling upon her from all sides, progression in the tournament.

And now she was retiring! She would climb to the top, plant the greatest of laurels upon her brow, and then declare herself to be done. She would walk away, her reputation secured — more than secured, it would be unassailable. Not until someone came who could claim five consecutive tournament triumphs would she be spoken of in Mistral with anything but reverence and awe. Jealousy would persist, of course; in fact, it would be magnified, but who would dare speak openly against her? If she were to win the Vytal Tournament, was there any possibility that the Temple of Victory would strip her of her honours? When she had done what no Mistralian had done in forty years and brought the Vytal glory home?

The Evenstar indeed, such a light as had not been seen in Mistral these ages past.

Such a star to be so well beloved, and so accompanied. She had not even needed to see to Phoebe's defeat herself, but rather handed off responsibility to her faithful acolyte, that faunus, Sunset Shimmer, bearer of Soteria.

Phoebe would gladly eat her raw.

She was a scion of the House of Kommenos. Her ancestors had fought at Cynoscephelae and Raphia, her great-grandfather had fought alongside the Valish King at the Battle of Four Sovereigns…

Had fought against his home, his people, his Emperor.

There were some who said that the House of Kommenos was cursed, condemned by their own treason, detested by the gods for oathbreakers and rebels.

And as she lay there, in the shadows, listening to the crowd cheer her defeat and downfall, Phoebe found that she could well believe it.

Perhaps the valour of her house had died with Achates Kommenos. How else to explain the fact that she was such a failure?

She could not triumph over her rival, she could not win back her family sword, she could bring neither honour nor glory to her name or house. She could do nothing.

She was nothing.

She was the heir to an old name and a storied line, and she was nothing. She had nothing.

Neither honour nor love.

Nothing.

She lay in shadow.

Beneath her helmet, Phoebe began to weep. She would have been grateful that the helmet concealed her face, but honestly, nobody was looking at her in any case.

The shadows deepened. Someone was standing over her: Pyrrha, with Sunset Shimmer hovering diffident nearby, at one watching and trying not to watch. Lycus was there too, face downcast, eyes on the ground, but it was Pyrrha who stood over her, looking down on Phoebe as she always had.

She held out her hand to Phoebe. "You fought well," she said. "Your strategy quite took us by surprise."

She held out her hand. She held out her hand? She had the gall, the sheer barefaced audacity, to hold out her hand and murmur words conciliatory after this? After all that she had done!

She held out her hand!

Phoebe raised her head enough to spit on Pyrrha's outstretched hand.

"Choke on your insincerity; I need it not," Phoebe spat. She got up herself, without any assistance from Pyrrha. "I will not play my part in this dumbshow of yours, this performance of magnanimity for crowd and camera. Get you gone! Go and celebrate your victory."

"You'd know—" Sunset began, but fell silent at a raise of Pyrrha's hand.

"I…" Pyrrha began, trailing before she had said much. "I'm sorry," she said. "It was not my intent to give offence."

She turned away, began to walk off, leaving Phoebe behind, as she had already done in all ways else.

Her creature lingered a moment longer, giving Phoebe a sour look with those sullen eyes of hers.

They reminded Phoebe of her wretched stepsister; she had been one for sullen looks as well, always watching, staring, challenging Phoebe. No matter how Phoebe beat her, she was always watching.

Knowing that she had perished in the same fire that consumed her mother and sister had been the one small consolation in the whole miserable affair.

In any case, Pyrrha's faunus watched her for a moment, then turned away, following her mistress like a good little dog.

As the victors left her behind, Lycus approached. He moved slowly, diffidently, head bowed, not looking her in the eye.

"I … I'm sorry, my lady," he murmured. "We did…"

He trailed off again. Had he been about to tell her that they had done all they could? She found herself very glad that he had kept that to himself; it was … it made no difference. If they had done all they could, and yet had failed to eliminate even a single member of Team SAPR, not even Jaune Arc … then that just went to show how worthless and wretched they were.

Phoebe didn't answer him. She turned away, her eyes on Pyrrha and Sunset as they walked to join Jaune and Ruby.

As she watched, Sunset put one arm around Pyrrha's shoulder.

Phoebe didn't know what offended her more, that Sunset did it or that Pyrrha allowed it.

Lycus reached out to put a hand upon her shoulder. "My lady—"

"Don't touch me!" Phoebe snapped as she pulled away from him. "Remember your place."

Lycus bowed his head even lower. "Yes, my lady. I … should have done more."

His admission of error took some of the anger out of her, deflating like a balloon. While she remained angry, it was harder to be angry at someone who had confessed their fault than who attempted to defend themselves.

Instead of him, it was on Sunset and Pyrrha fully on whom Phoebe found her wrath focussed. Look at them, so happy, so carefree, so … so insulting to Phoebe and her struggles. It was disrespectful, insolent, impertinent. It was not to be borne!

Phoebe snatched her spear up from the ground.

---

"Sunset did very well in the end, didn't she, Professor?" Plum said.

"Yes," agreed Doctor Diggory. "She gave a rather good account of herself, after…" He elided over what had come before, rather murmuring, "Remarkably versatile semblance, she has."

"Why did she get so scared?" Plum asked. "That's what they said, wasn't it? That's what the boy did to her?"

"Yes," Doctor Diggory agreed. "Yes, that was his semblance. To all intents and purposes, at least."

"But she got very scared," Plum said.

"She must have a lot to be scared of," said Malmsey Scrub.

"Quite so, Mister Scrub," agreed Doctor Diggory. "It is an unfortunate truth that huntsmen and huntresses see much which is liable to remain with them, much that, if recalled, may cause them great anguish. No doubt that is the case with Miss Shimmer, for which she has my most sincere regret and deepest sympathies."

---

Terri-Belle got to her feet. "As expected, in many ways."

Swift Foot nodded. "Pyrrha didn't eliminate all four members of the opposition, but I thought she did well enough."

"She will do better with fewer teammates," Terri-Belle muttered. "But yes, she did well enough. But as I told you, it is Arslan Altan who of all the warriors of Mistral has most impressed this day."

Swift Foot smiled. "Do you think she might defeat Pyrrha, finally?"

"No," Terri-Belle declared, a note of scorn entering her voice. "No, she will not do that, but they will talk of her tonight, more than of Pyrrha Nikos or any other."

"Possibly," Swift Foot agreed. She frowned, tossing her long, wavy hair. "I feel sorry for Lady Kommenos."

Terri-Belle's eyebrows rose. "For what reason?"

"For the reason of our class," Swift Foot replied. "We are called to be warriors, it is our born purpose; to be anything else, to have a trade, a profession, is … shameful, subject for mockery—"

"One may be a lawyer without shame," Terri-Belle pointed out.

"Only because the law in Mistral is an extension of politics," Swift Foot said, "and even then, one is looked down on still if one is not also a warrior."

Terri-Belle found she could scarcely argue with that. "We are born to be shepherds of the people, true."

"Imagine how it must feel to be just bad at it," Swift Foot said. "To be bad at the one thing that, above all others and all else, is expected of your birth or valued by your peers."

Terri-Belle was silent a moment. "You would have a point," she admitted, "save that I am not convinced she is so poor at it. In personal combat, perhaps, but leadership? Tactics? She surprised Team Sapphire—"

"But her plan failed," Swift Foot pointed out. "Badly. And not just because she had bad luck: her plan called for one guy to keep Pyrrha and her team leader tied up; it was never going to work."

"At least she had a plan," Terri-Belle replied, "and we have need of those with wit as well as with strong spear arms. I will make a place for her in the Guard, if she will have it." She turned away. "But now I must go; I have work to catch up on."

"You won't come back to watch the second round draw, I take it," Swift Foot said.

"No," Terri-Belle declared. "Let me know if anything interesting results from it."

---

"You know, I had no idea if they were any good or not," Leaf observed. "But they were, weren't they?"

"Mmhmm," Veil agreed. "Although I thought your friend Sunset was gonna lose it for a second there."

"I think she did lose it," Leaf replied. "That was weird, wasn't it? Like … sure, that guy had a semblance, but still … what could make someone freak out like that?"

---

Diana groaned. "Pyrrha didn't take out everybody," she grumbled.

"Maybe she was giving everyone else a chance," Serena suggested. "Like in school?"

Diana knew what she meant. School sports, they were constantly reminded, were about participation, not skill.

That didn't make being bad at netball any easier.

"You're probably right," she agreed. "Pyrrha's just being nice. It's just like her, when you think about it."

---

Saphron whooped with glee, leaping up off the sofa with Adrian held up in her arms.

Adrian raised his own little hands, gurgling excitedly whether he understood what mommy was excited about or not.

"Yay! They did it!" Saphron cried. "Uncle Jaune and Auntie Pyrrha—"

"That's still weird," Terra muttered, but despite her tone there was a fine smile playing across her face. "Now, I ask you, was that boring?"

"No, no, it wasn't," Saphron admitted. "No, it wasn't, Adrian, was it? Was it?"

Adrian gurgled.

"I'm sure he like the bright colours, even if he didn't recognise Jaune or Pyrrha," Saphron said. "I do kind of wish that Jaune had gotten to do something cooler, but I don't suppose that was ever on the cards."

"He didn't disgrace himself," Terra pointed out.

"No, he didn't," Saphron agreed, "and I guess, so long as he's satisfied with himself, that's all that really matters."

---

"To be honest," River said. "I was hoping for a little more from Jaune."

"Give your brother a break; he only started training this year," Dad pointed out. "A lot of students have been training half their lives. It's impressive he held his own."

"Impressive and thanks to Pyrrha," Kendal said.

"Right," Sky said. "Thanks to Pyrrha. So let's not be down on Jaune, okay? Let's just be happy for both of them that they got the win and wish Pyrrha well from all of us and best of luck in the next round."

---

As they walked towards their teammates, and towards the other two members of Team PSTL, the crowd felt almost as distant from Sunset as they had been during the battle itself. Not quite so distant — she could actually hear them now, their cheers like the crimson leaves of the Forever Fall falling downwards upon their heads — but at the same time, it still didn't feel like they were really there with Sunset and the others.

They were separated, by more than just distance, like gods observing the goings-on of the little world encompassed by the arena, or ghosts observing the living but unable to interact with them.

And yet, it was good to hear them nonetheless.

"I must admit," Sunset said, "I struggle with the fact that you don't like this."

Pyrrha chuckled. "No doubt it seems to you very fine?"

"It is … not displeasing to the ear," Sunset admitted.

"But imagine it was all your ears could hear," Pyrrha said. "No kind words from a friend sincerely meant, no honest counsel, no love's whisperings, nothing but the cheers descending from far off." She smiled. "Like sugar, it is best in limited doses."

"But it can be enjoyed," Sunset said, slipping an arm around Pyrrha's shoulders, "as part of a balanced diet."

They drew close to the others. Jaune turned towards Pyrrha, a smile beginning to crawl across his face like the rays of dawn across the surface of the world. "How did it go?"

Pyrrha wiped her hand — the hand that Phoebe had spat on — upon her sash. It was not the first time she had done so since Phoebe spat on it. "It … wasn't well received, unfortunately."

Mal Sapphire winced. "Sorry about that," she murmured. "Phoebe is … switching it off after a match is difficult for her."

Sunset thought that was being very generous, but did not say so. Instead, letting her arm fall from Pyrrha's shoulder, she said, "You fought well."

"You fought better, obviously," Mal said quietly. "But thanks anyway. Phoebe thought that you'd expect us to focus on Pyrrha Nikos, and you did, didn't you."

"Yes," Sunset said. "Yeah, we did." Her gaze flickered to Thorn. "You've got a nasty semblance, if I may say."

"Are there any bad semblances?" Ruby asked. "Or just bad uses?"

"I'd say the second one, obviously," Thorn replied. He scratched his elbow with one hand. "It doesn't usually affect people as badly as that. I didn't know what it would do to you."

"But you still took advantage of it," Sunset pointed out.

Thorn shrugged. "We were in a battle."

Sunset couldn't really argue with that, so she didn't even try. Instead, she returned her attention to Mal. "Can I ask you something? How do you get that cool green effect with your flames?"

Mal blinked. "You mean on my cape? You like that?"

"Yeah!" Sunset cried enthusiastically. "It really stands out. What are you doing?"

"Copper shavings," Mal explained. "I adulterate the fire dust with copper to get the green colour."

Sunset's brow furrowed slightly. "Doesn't that reduce the intensity of the flames?"

"They don't burn as well, no," Mal admitted. "But I think it's worth it."

Sunset might have said something else, had Pyrrha not at that moment shoved her roughly aside.

Sunset stumbled, righted herself, opened her mouth to question Pyrrha when she saw Phoebe Kommenos charging towards Pyrrha, spear aimed at her back.

Pyrrha was already moving; she had shoved Sunset aside to clear the space around her, and now, she flowed like water, sash whirling, pulling Akoúo̱ across her back to turn the blow.

Sunset fired before that was necessary, a bolt of magic leaping from her outstretched palm to hit Phoebe in the side and send her flying. Thorn and Mal rushed to her side, as did Lycus as he ran to catch up with her.

Pyrrha glanced at her. "Please don't think me churlish, but was that necessary?"

"As far as I'm concerned, yes," Sunset growled, as she stomped past Pyrrha and the others towards Phoebe. "What was that, huh? You trying to land a late hit on my teammate?"

Phoebe roared with frustration as she leapt to her feet and had to be restrained by Thorn from throwing herself on Sunset. She tore her helmet off her head, and Sunset could see that there were tears in her eyes. "This is not over, you filthy, disgusting, flea-ridden little thief! Thorn! Let go of me this instant!"

"Yeah, Thorn, let her go," Sunset said. "Try it; I'll toss you clean off this stage!"

"Sunset, stop," Pyrrha insisted, grabbing Sunset by one shoulder and hauling her back sufficiently for Pyrrha to get in front of her, planting herself between Sunset and Phoebe. "Sunset, this is not seemly."

"Don't turn your back on me, Pyrrha!" Phoebe raged. "Don't you dare turn your back on me!"

"The battle is over, Lady Kommenos," Pyrrha declared, her voice weighty and firm. "The only thing you do by this is shame yourself."

---

“I never liked her,” Juturna said as they watched Phoebe try — and fail, obviously — to get free of her own teammates and attack Pyrrha. Like that was going to work.

Fun to watch, though, Juturna thought as she munched on some popcorn.

“This is an absurd display,” Turnus said, getting up and turning his back on the whole affair. “Pointless and ridiculous in equal measure.”

“She is in grief,” Camilla pointed out. “It can conjure strong passions.”

“Perhaps it can, but what does she hope to accomplish by it?” Turnus demanded.

“I … know not, my lord,” Camilla admitted. “I cannot see into her mind. Or her heart.” She paused. “The rest of the battle was enjoyable, I thought.”

“Team Sapphire fought well, but so did Team Pastel,” Turnus declared. “Better than might have been expected. Phoebe led her team better than might have been expected. Which is why it is so … disappointing that she has chosen to sully her reputation thus.”

---

Cinder tsked and tutted and clicked her tongue as she beheld Phoebe's outburst, watching as she raged and screamed and wept and hurled herself against the force of her own teammates as she sought to reach her disdainful adversaries.

It was a delight to see, and all the more delightful for giving Cinder the ability to make moralising mock of her.

"Such a poor sport she is," Cinder murmured, shaking her head sadly.

A smile crept across Cinder's face as a thief creeps into an empty house to steal the treasure within. "And yet," she went on, "Phoebe being so poor a sport, I think we may have sport with her." She leapt to her feet, her glass slippers tapping loudly on the floor. "Come, Emerald, attend me. We have business in the city."

Emerald looked from Cinder to the scroll and back again. "Now?"

"This very night, presently, at once," Cinder replied. She paused. "Yes, now, come, come, up, up!"

"But…" Emerald began, "the second round picks—"

"We'll find them out tomorrow, ere the contests recommence," Cinder said. "This will not wait."

"Won't— I mean, will it not?" asked Emerald. "What business, what rush, what sport, what is all this?"

That was a fair question, for all that Cinder was somewhat loath to give the answer. She would have preferred obedience absolute and based on faith. "You asked that with a pretty tongue," she said softly.

Emerald stood up. "I would rather be answered than be flattered."

Cinder chuckled. "I'm very proud of you nevertheless. Well, since you ask so prettily, I … I know Phoebe Kommenos by … reputation. By reputation of dark deeds, rather. Defeated as she is, humiliated as she has been, enraged as you can see she is, she will this night seek out cruel consolation." It had ever been so. Those had been the worst of Cinder's nights, when Phoebe, beaten, would render Cinder black and blue in turn and … worse besides.

It was not a cause for hate she could admit to Sunset, still less to Pyrrha herself, and familiarity had dulled it greatly, but … Cinder had often wondered if it would have pained Pyrrha so much to give Phoebe a victory and spared Cinder thus a night of torment.

"Therefore into Vale we'll go," Cinder went on, "and straight to the skydock to linger thereabouts for Phoebe, and … I fear that I must ask you to play a helpless part, to look a victim, homeless and hungry as you were when we first met, a person of no consequence, one who could die and not be missed, one who could scream and not be heard, one upon whom Phoebe may work her will without fear. Entice her thus, draw her to some dark secluded place…" A little laugh, a low-throated growling rumble of anticipation, escaped her throat and passed her lips. "There shall she find me waiting and be hoisted on her own petard as I have my fatal sport with her that she had thought to have with you." She spread her arms out wide on either side of her. "A fine plot, no?"

"A fine plan," Emerald agreed. "If she comes."

"She will come," Cinder declared. "I know she will."

"How do you know?" Emerald asked. "And why do you care?"

"Ask me not that, Emerald," Cinder said, turning away and striding towards the door. "Ask me not."

"I must help you get into Vale, I have to help you take that risk, but I can't know why?" Emerald demanded, frustration rendering her words more vulgar. "Would Sunset know why? Could you tell her?"

Cinder's eyes narrowed slightly as she looked over her shoulder. "That is unworthy of you to ask."

Once, Emerald would have trembled in fear of Cinder's displeasure. Now, she stood her ground, with all hints of trembling nearly vanished. "I won't help you unless you give me a reason," she said. "The risk of us being seen in Vale, tonight of all nights, when the whole city is alive with celebration … not without a reason. Why do you want her dead? Why should we take the risk for her?"

"Because…" Cinder began, but soon trailed off again. She could have invented reasons, claimed that Phoebe's death — Phoebe, the Mistralian noble and the Atlas student — would set the cat amongst the pigeons; but Emerald would reject such, and rightly too. Such reasons would be weak if they were true.

She could not tell her all the truth. She could not bare her soul to Emerald, confess all her sorrows, unburden herself of the sad story of her early days. Sunset had ripped Cinder's truth from out her soul; she whom Cinder was most content to share it with would never have been granted it voluntarily. Certainly, she would not yield up to Emerald her real name, her history, all the rest. But … though she could not give Emerald the whole truth, still, she could give her something.

She owed her something.

"I know the bitch of old," Cinder declared. "And of old, she … did me injury. I will repay it, with the interest of these years. The time, it seems to me, is fitting now. I owe her a debt, as she owes a death; I mean for them to come due."

"But … why now?" asked Emerald. "You could have killed her when we were at Beacon."

"I was afraid," Cinder said, which was far truer than she would like to admit. Even now, she could not be certain what would become of her when she and Phoebe came face to face again. She could not be certain that she would not become once more poor frightened Ashley, frightened, useless girl. Nevertheless, she had to try. "That if I did so, investigation might lead to our discovery, but now … I may get no better chance than this; I must attempt it."

Emerald was silent, looking into Cinder's eyes, her own eyes of crimson narrowed slightly. "If you must try," she said quietly, "then I must help you. Come, let us go, as your old book says."

Cinder sniggered. "So it does," she agreed. She paused a moment. "You have my thanks. You … you are a good friend to me. Better than my conduct has of times deserved."

"You're the … you are the only friend or family I've ever known," Emerald confessed. "However I can best help you, I will. Let's go, if this will make you happy."

"I hope it will," Cinder replied.

And all the more did she hope that it might bring her peace.

---

"Kommenos!" The voice of General Ironwood, raised to a bovine bellow, cut through the noise of the crowd. "That is enough!"

The cheering that had greeted Team SAPR's victory had become more infected with boos and jeers, but General Ironwood's voice cut through them all.

The man himself strode onto the field, and as he did so, Team PSTL immediately leapt to attention, even Phoebe, the spear falling from her hands to land with a thud upon the central hexagon.

General Ironwood's hands were clasped behind his back as he bore down upon his students, casting a shadow over even the tallest of them.

"That is enough," he repeated, his voice seeming at once quieter but also sharper at the same time.

Phoebe trembled. "Sir, I—"

"We will discuss your punishment for bringing yourself, your team, and Atlas Academy into disrepute tomorrow morning at oh-seven-hundred hours," General Ironwood declared, cutting her off before she could explain. He turned to Team SAPR. "Team Sapphire, I regret that in addition to congratulations on your victory, I must also offer my apologies for the conduct of my students."

"That's not necessary, sir," Pyrrha murmured.

"Unfortunately, Miss Nikos, it is," General Ironwood declared.

"In which case, sir, the apology is accepted," Sunset replied, with a slight but hopefully noticeable bow of her head.

General Ironwood bowed in turn, a rather more noticeable bow from the waist, one hand upon his heart. He straightened up and turned his gaze — a gaze that seemed to become at once more baleful as he turned it — upon Team PSTL. "Dismissed!"

None of the Atlas students said a word more as they marched away, heading back through the tunnel from which they had first emerged out onto the battlefield.

General Ironwood lingered a moment more, looking around the crowd, listening to the booing and the jeering, then he followed Team PSTL towards their corridor away.

From out the other corridor, the one that Team SAPR had used to enter the arena, emerged out onto the battlefield Professor Ozpin and Skystar Aris. The latter was dressed in Valish green, accented with Atlesian white, Mistralian blue, and even Vacuan yellow. Her dress itself was green, made of a shimmering fabric, with a single shoulder and a diagonal neckline that ran from that shoulder to down beneath her other elbow. Upon her feet, she wore white high-heeled sandals with straps that wound around her ankles halfway up to her knees. Around her wrists, she wore bracelets of yellow amber beads, and a necklace of large blue topazes, each bigger than both of Jaune's thumbs pressed together, hung from about her neck. Her hair was adorned by feathers in all four colours, green, white, blue, and yellow so that she seemed almost some riotous bird of paradise.

She smiled brightly as she approached Team SAPR, although it seemed to Sunset there was something just a little strained about it.

"Congratulations!" she cried.

"Thanks," Sunset said. "We did our best."

"You did really well," Skystar assured them all, before moving to the very centre of the central hexagon.

Professor Ozpin stood by her side silently, a mug of cocoa held idly on one hand.

Skystar raised the microphone she was holding and turned it on.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, has this been a great first day of the tournament or what?"

Despite the fact that the day had been a little marred at its very ending very recently, the crowd still gave her a resounding 'YES!' like a sudden thunderclap bursting overhead.

Skystar chuckled. "I just want to thank our contestants, winners and losers, for giving us such entertaining fights, on behalf of Vale and all of us here: your bravery has not gone unnoticed, and your skill is appreciated." She paused. "But it's not over yet! Please don't all rush to leave the coliseum, because in thirty minutes, right here, we will be announcing which students will be moving forward into the two-on-two round and revealing second round match-ups! In thirty minutes, so can we please have all teams which won their first round matches gathered here for that? That's going to be so exciting, so please, stick around; concession stands are still open, grab some more popcorn. And then, after that, the fairground will stay open for the rest of the night. There's also a couple of other events being held in Vale: the Beacon Alumni Society is holding a dinner disco where I'm told that Doctor Oobleck will be DJing; the Iceberg Lounge is holding a celebration of cross-cultural trends in music and refreshment … I think that means music and drinks with influences from outside Atlas; and at the Museum of Arms and Armour, there is a celebration of Mistralian martial arts sponsored by the Mistralian embassy, including Arslan Altan doing a self-defence workshop for children which I think sounds really cool, even if I am probably too old for it." She grinned. "But first: second round picks, right here, in thirty minutes!"

---

Team SAPR exited the battlefield the same way that they had entered it, passing out of the sight of the crowds and into the corridor that led beneath the stands. Professor Ozpin and Skystar Aris remained behind, although they had a long time to wait until the second round announcements were made. As Team SAPR departed, the mountain and the gravity biomes receded, disappearing into the buried recesses of the Amity Colosseum, replaced with four grey metal quadrants bearing the arms of the four competing academies. The central hexagon, bearing Skystar and Professor Ozpin, elevated upwards above the rest, so that the two were unable to leave even if they wished to.

The cheering and the jeering alike began to die down to a low murmuring, like the rumble of the trembling earth that precedes an avalanche, interspersed with the occasional bursts of 'it's coming home' or other songs that Pyrrha did not recognise.

The four of them were met in the corridor by Penny. Arslan was there too, and Yang, and Rainbow Dash, and Blake, and the rest of Teams YRBN and RSPT; but it was Penny who stood at the forefront, bouncing eagerly upon the balls of her feet, and it was Penny who rushed towards them as soon as they entered the corridor.

"That was incredible!" she cried, sweeping Ruby up onto a hug that swept her off the ground before Penny twirled her around in the air. "You all did so well!" She enveloped Pyrrha in a hug that encompassed Pyrrha's arms, pinning them to her side as Penny squeezed her so tight that Pyrrha would have winced if she had not been smiling. "I'm afraid I was actually a little worried for a moment." She pressed Sunset's head against her shoulder, her fingers interwoven through Sunset's fiery hair. "But you came back and you did it! You were sensational!" She lifted Jaune as far off the ground as their respective heights allowed, which was, as it turned out, not very far.

Sunset chuckled. "I won't hold your momentary lapse of faith against us, Penny. For a second there, I was a little worried myself."

"I told you that Phoebe was a better leader than she was a fighter," Rainbow observed.

"Yes, yes, you did," Sunset accepted. "We … misjudged her."

"How do you mean?" Penny asked. "You weren't expecting her to react so badly to losing? I don't think anybody was expecting that."

"No," Pyrrha murmured. "Although perhaps we should have expected that too. But what Sunset means is that, since Phoebe and I have a history in the arenas of Mistral, we expected that she would make me her priority target, instead of singling out Jaune and Ruby."

"It might not have been what you saw coming, but you made it work," Yang said. "And I think being able to improvise, adapt, and overcome in the heat of the moment is as important as going in with a great plan to start with. You did that; they didn't." She grinned. "Nice shooting out there, Ruby."

"Yes, indeed," Sunset agreed. "Without you, I … that guy's semblance is…"

"Mmm," Blake murmured. "I'm almost glad it was you facing that instead of me. I wouldn't want to have that used on me."

"On the other hand," Twilight said, "I think that for some people, it would hardly affect them at all."

"Small consolation, that, if you are one of those it hits hard," Ciel murmured.

"I don't understand," Penny said. "Why did Phoebe react the way she did?"

Arslan began, "Because she's a complete and utter—"

"Because she is a Mistralian," Pyrrha said.

Arslan frowned at that. "We're all Mistralian, P-money; we don't all act like that."

"Because we are blessed with skill that Phoebe is … not," Pyrrha suggested. "For all that she has gifts in other areas, those areas are not so valued by our society, especially not by the class that she and I share. We live our lives seeking to be the best; even as we recoil on envy from those who are superior to us, we seek both to grow tall and to cut down the tallest. What happens then to those who fall short? For Phoebe, I fear that these are not merely defeats but humiliations, humiliations that she could brook no further."

Penny frowned. "I … you don't make your own kingdom seem very nice, Pyrrha."

Pyrrha smiled and put a hand on Penny's shoulder. "I'm sorry; without doubt, there is much beauty in Mistral, much greatness in its people. It is my home, and as my home, it will always have a claim upon my heart, but … I am neither blind to its grievous faults nor the type to conceal them from my friends."

"I see," Penny said. "I suppose that's a good thing. And I'd still like to see your home one day, with Amber and the rest of you."

"And I would love to show it to you," Pyrrha said. "Now … I know not what we will do to while away these thirty minutes until the second round contestants and match-ups are announced, but if you will all excuse me, I must call upon my mother in her box." She paused. "Actually, would you mind coming with me? Jaune, Sunset, Ruby, I mean. I think that she'd like to speak with all of you, or certainly, she wouldn't be averse to seeing you all after the match."

"And I, for one, have no objection to calling upon my lady," Sunset said.

"Of course you don't," Blake muttered.

"Hey, you know Atlas councillors and generals," Sunset pointed out. "You have lost your right to mock me for my deference."

Blake was quiet a moment. "That's a good point," she admitted. "I'm sorry."

"I'll come too," Jaune added.

"And me too," said Ruby. "Why don't we let you know when we're done and then we can all … get drinks or something while we wait?"

"That sounds wonderful!" Penny said.

"Sure thing," Yang said. "Just send me a text when you're through." She smirked. "Have fun reporting to Pyrrha's mom."

There wasn't much that she could say in response to that, and Pyrrha didn't even try. Instead, leaving the others behind, Pyrrha led her friends upwards, around the great circle of the coliseum and up the various levels into which it was divided, climbing shallow staircases, passing Atlesian androids deployed for security, climbing upwards and upwards, winding around and around, until at last, they came to the private box that her mother had purchased for herself.

Hestia stood … not guard, exactly — she was no warrior — but she offered the guard of propriety and courtesy, that no one at all mannered would force entry that Lady Nikos' attendant denied to them.

At the sight of Pyrrha, Hestia curtsied and stepped. "Good evening, young m'lady. You can go right in."

"Good evening, Hestia, and thank you," Pyrrha replied.

Hestia smiled. "And congratulations too, young m'lady." She cleared her throat. "Lady Pyrrha and her team, m'lady."

"Of course," Mother said, and as Pyrrha and the others stepped into the box, she pushed herself to the feet with the aid of her cane.

"Mother," Pyrrha said. "There is no need to—"

"I am not so infirm yet," Mother said sharply. She was silent a moment, waiting, watching.

Without needing to be bidden, the four members of Team SAPR formed a line facing her, as if for inspection.

And Mother did indeed appear to inspect them for a moment, her sharp-eyed gaze sweeping across the company.

"You are an excellent shot, Miss Rose,” she said.

"Thank you ma— I mean, my lady," Ruby said.

Mother nodded, however short a gesture it was. "Mister Arc," she said. "Miss Rose struck the final blow on one adversary, Miss Shimmer one, Pyrrha two … and you, none."

Sunset began to speak, "If my lady will—"

"We will come to you, Miss Shimmer, fear not," Mother said.

Pyrrha frowned, but curbed her own impulse and desire to defend Jaune herself. She slipped her hand into his, but said nothing. Her defence would do him no good presently.

Jaune was silent a moment. He bowed his head and almost frowned, but the frown was gone when he raised his head again. "My lady," he said. "I'm still the weakest member of this team; it would be weird if I wasn't. But I wasn't a liability, and I'll even say that I helped, with my dust and with my semblance. Because of me, Pyrrha didn't have to fight two on one. I'm sure that she would have won two on one, but because of me, she didn't have to. We won the fight, and we all played a part in that, so I don't think that talking about who eliminated how many matters very much."

Mother didn't reply, which might have meant almost anything, impassive as her countenance was. "Miss Shimmer," she went on, "you weren't expecting the opposition's tactics, were you?"

Sunset cleared her throat. "I fear that we expected a more Mistralian … sense of priority from Lady Kommenos, my lady. Instead, she looked upon this battle with a different eye."

"Phoebe Kommenos desired victory," Mother said. "That was the uppermost in her thoughts, and should have guided your estimations of her thoughts also, Miss Shimmer."

"Yes, my lady," Sunset murmured.

Mother paused, and as she paused, she smiled ever so slightly. "How did it feel to defeat her?"

Sunset allowed herself a small smile of her own. "Very good, my lady."

Mother nodded approvingly. "Indeed. I confess I always took some pleasure in her downfall. In fact, having witnessed that obscene display, I hardly feel I need confess it. What she hoped to gain by it, I know not." She paused. "I am sorry that that young man's semblance affected you so, Miss Shimmer. You have my sympathies."

"And my lady has my thanks," Sunset murmured.

Mother did not answer that, but rather, at last, turned her attentions towards Pyrrha. "You did not distinguish yourself the most of all Mistralians today," she said.

"No," Pyrrha replied without shame. "And you must have known I would not after Arslan won her great victory. Our own triumph was one won by the team, a joint enterprise in which I did not disgrace myself. I am content with that, and I urge you to be content likewise. You have my word, in rounds to come, I will meet your expectations."

Mother's eyebrows rose. "Will you?"

"Yes," Pyrrha replied. "For in this, they are my expectations also. I would take leave of all arenas with my head held high."

"I should hope so, and yet, it gladdens my heart to hear it nonetheless," Mother said. "Very well, I shall await tomorrow's round with eager anticipation. And in the meantime … congratulations to you all."

Comments

[Kiue Jin]

You know, if Cinder does this correctly, she could cause a great deal of international tension between kingdoms to be taken advantage of in the days to come... as well as finding peace with herself.

An Atlas student turning up dead in Vale due to being murdered is naturally going to further the brewing conflict between Vale and Atlas that they've been stirring, but a Mistralian noble woman (even one from a House of ill reputation who had utterly disgraced herself on the public stage) being murdered by Valish gutter scum? There are a lot of nobles back home who aren't going to be happy with the precedent that represents, even if they do not give a shit about Lady Kommenos herself.

[RedDog5207]

11649731

That's a pretty good idea to serve as one of those small personal victories Cinder could also get away with from Salem, or at least Salem could afford to tolerate Cinder's personal actions. Doing so and maybe giving some approval might help lower Cinder's guard a bit before Salem's eventual backstabbing.

[Mastermind4892]

11649731
After Phoebe’s attempt to impale Sunset specifically and considering the Anti-Faunus sentiments lately… Sunset may likely be targeted as a suspect who ‘obviously’ did it.

And ironically, Cinder would feel regret at her plans and especially her impulses bringing such heat upon Sunset.

[Adser]

11649731
Don't forget exposing Phoebe's "tastes" in entertainment. Atlas and Mistral are going to have the unenviable task of trying to defend someone (killing students or nobles would have to be considered a no-no) who is indefensible (the whole "murderous beast" and all that).

[Stet709]

I have to admit, one change I do like is Phoebe is supposed to get punished for her little temper tantrum before her inevitable demise at the hands of Cinder.
Still loving the commentaries from supporters (Though I am curious of Celestia and Luna's thoughts afterward).
Is Diggory not aware Sunset has magic or is it just Professor Scrub, maybe the kids Plum Pole and Malmsey Scrub?

11649799
Oh shoot, that would not be good...