SAPR

by Scipio Smith

And You're About to Fall Down (New)

And You’re About to Fall Down

Earlier that morning…

Technically, this meeting with the General only required the two students who would actually be competing in the two-on-two round, Sabine and Reynard, but all four members of Team SABR were standing in General Ironwood’s office aboard the Valiant, lined up at attention, facing his desk.

Because, although it was only Sabine and Reynard who would be doing it, it had been their collective idea, and they were here to take collective responsibility for it.

Plus, there was another matter that they wanted to discuss with the General that did involve all four of them.

They had just finished explaining their intentions. Now, General Ironwood, sat in his chair, looked at them, hands clasped together as his elbows rested on the arms of his chair.

“To be quite honest,” he said, “I’m a little surprised that you came in here and told me that you planned to do this. You could have sprung it on me just as much as everyone else.”

“Perhaps we could, sir,” Sabine said, “but that didn’t feel quite right. Especially since it … it might come back on you.”

“I appreciate your consideration,” General Ironwood replied dryly. “And if I told you that I didn’t want you to go through with it, would you stop?”

Sabine licked her lips. “I really hope that you won’t tell us that, sir.”

“That isn’t what I asked, Silverband,” General Ironwood said, his voice becoming a little firmer.

Sabine was silent for a moment. She glanced at Reynard, and then at Bella and Aaron.

Reynard gave her a slight, but short and sharp, nod of the head.

Sabine took a breath. “If you order us to stand down, sir, then we will stand down, of course.” She paused for a moment. “But, as I say, sir, I really hope that you won’t do that.”

General Ironwood didn’t reply straight away. Instead, he got up out of his chair, so that he stood taller than any member of Team SABR, looking down at them instead of up. “So you’re saying that it’s really up to me?” he asked. “Thank you, Silverband, I appreciate that.”

Sabine let out a little cough, that might have become a bit of a laugh under different circumstances. “That wasn’t what I meant, sir. I … didn’t mean to put you—”

“In a difficult position?” Ironwood asked.

Sabine blinked. “Sir, you’re making me start to think it would have been a better idea to take you by surprise.”

“It might have been easier to manage afterwards,” General Ironwood said dryly. “But I’m still glad that you came to me.” He paused for a moment. “Some would say that politics should be left out of the Vytal Tournament.”

“Life is political, sir,” Sabine said. “And so is this tournament. It’s a celebration of peace between four kingdoms that started after the bloodiest war in the history of Remnant; how is that not political? The favourite to win is a Mistralian aristo who could afford the best trainers and the finest quality gear since she was a kid because her society still rests on a foundation of inequality and privilege. And the fact that…” Sabine trailed off, wondering if she might be about to bound over her step with this last point. After all, there was a Schnee on the General’s staff.

She felt Reynard’s hand close around hers and Bella’s hand on the other side of her. They were with her, her team was with her. They were with her, and they looked to her to speak for them here, as many faunus would look to her and Reynard to speak for them in the arena.

“And the fact that a Schnee gets to launder the reputation of her family through competing in this tournament, that’s political too,” she said quickly, before her nerve could fail her again. “I would also like to point out to the General that there are no rules in the tournament prohibiting anything like this.”

She would have liked to have given some examples of times when it had been done before now, but they had only come up with the idea at short notice, and it had been all that they could to surf through the rules and find that there was nothing prohibiting this, without finding some precedents into the bargain.

General Ironwood looked down on them all, his eyes resting particularly upon Sabine. Sabine fought against the temptation to flinch. If she didn’t flinch, if she showed that she was firm in her resolve, then the General was more likely to go for this.

She hoped, anyway.

When he spoke, his voice was soft. “Being born with the name of Schnee is not a crime, Silverband. Nor is it an indication of sin.”

“I didn’t say it was, sir.”

“Didn’t you?”

“No, sir,” Sabine replied. “I wouldn’t dream of disrespecting Major Schnee by suggesting otherwise, but at the same time, I don’t think you can argue that Weiss Schnee isn’t a brand ambassador for the Schnee Dust Company. General, she wears the company logo on her back; she might as well be sponsored by them. Sir, I’ll go further than that: if she were only sponsored by the SDC, she’d have enjoyed less of their money.”

General Ironwood continued to look down at her. “I’m told that you had a verbal altercation with Dash last night,” he said. “I’m told that you called her something that I won’t repeat.”

Sabine’s brow furrowed a little as she tried to work out who could have told the General that. Dash wouldn’t tell; she had a lot of faults but she wasn’t a tattletale who would go snitching to the General just because she had hurt feelings. But who else could have told on them?

“It was Lady Belladonna,” General Ironwood said, as though he could read her mind. “High Chieftainess of Menagerie. It was only the fact that she has no standing in the matter that prevented her from making a complaint against you.”

Sabine swallowed. “Sir,” she said. “You don’t know what it’s like—”

“No,” General Ironwood said. “I don’t. But I do know that that is an ugly phrase, I know that it causes offence, and I know that all Atlas students are expected to hold themselves to a certain standard of behaviour, behaviour which you fell short of last night. Which is why you’ll be spending tonight cleaning tables and swabbing the floor in the mess hall on this ship after dinner, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Sabine said at once. She supposed … she supposed that it had been a harsh thing to say. She stood by the spirit of her words; Dash was even now far too quick to bow her head and bite her tongue for the sake of a quiet life with the humans, not willing to stand up for their people. But calling her a house faunus had been going a bit too far; it was a pretty nasty phrase, a legacy of slavery, and according to a lot of new historians, inaccurate as well. She, they, should have been better than that. “Do you want me to apologise, sir?”

“I’ll leave that up to you,” General Ironwood said. “You’re old enough to decide that for yourself. Just as you are old enough to decide to go through with your plan.”

Sabine hesitated a moment, waiting for a catch that didn’t seem like it was going to come. “Sir … you mean—?”

“I don’t like this,” General Ironwood said, turning away from them to look out of the window. “I think that a lot of other people won’t like it either, although there will be those who are overjoyed by it. There will be those, at least if the four of you are anything to go by, for whom this gives them hope, a sign that they are not forgotten.

“Though you are students, you are all trusted to carry weapons, to fight, to die, to kill if need be. It would be strange, bordering on absurd, if I trusted you to do all those things but not to make decisions like these for yourselves. I don’t like this idea, but if it is your intent, if you want to go through with this and you’re prepared to face the consequences, then I won’t stand in your way.”

Sabine would have stood to attention if she hadn’t been doing so already. “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” Having received his permission, it seemed a little churlish to bring up the other matter now, but they had agreed to do so, and they might not get another chance. “Sir, General, there is one other matter that we’d like to bring up with you.”

General Ironwood turned back to face them once again. “Let’s hear it.”

“Sir,” Sabine said. “We are … we haven’t come to a firm decision yet, but … we’re thinking about transferring to Shade Academy.”

General Ironwood was silent for a moment. “I see,” he said softly. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s nothing personal, sir,” Sabine said quickly. “You’ve always been fair with us, and we’ll miss you when we go.”

“But there are things about Atlas which you won’t miss,” General Ironwood said.

“Yes, sir,” Sabine replied. We hear that, in Vacuo, a faunus can stand up. She wasn’t sure if that was the kind of thing that she ought to say to the General, however; he might take it to mean that in Atlas they couldn’t, and that … that was true, at least in as far as Sabine always felt as though she had to hunch her shoulders just a little, but at the same time … that wasn’t the General’s fault. She always felt like he was trying his best, and she didn’t want to sound like she was blaming him for anything. “Sir, we haven’t made a final decision yet, it’s just … we thought you should know, just in case. We didn’t want to spring that on you either.”

“I see,” General Ironwood said. “Well, if you transfer as a team, it will certainly be more convenient than some transfers happening this year.” He managed to smile slightly. “But, in all seriousness, you’ll be missed. I’ll be sad to see you go, I think you’ve done very well here in Atlas, and if I don’t get the chance to see that continue, I’ll be sorry for it. But at the end of the day, you have to do what’s best for your team, and if, as team leader, you decide that what is best for Team Sabre is to take them to Vacuo, then who am I to stand in your way?

“Make the best decision you can for yourself and your teammates, and I’ll wish you the best of luck with whatever decision that happens to be.”

---

“Hey, kids!”

Team WWSR were standing at the docking platform, the far left platform, waiting for a skybus to take them up to the colosseum where Weiss and Flash would soon have their doubles match.

Weiss was not saying anything to any of her teammates. She stood watching the skies, eyes turned upwards towards the floating arena, watching as a skybus descended towards them with what seemed to be an aching slowness.

She was certain that it hadn’t been that slow yesterday; what was taking it so long now?

She had one hand upon Myrtenaster’s hilt, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the cold metal, not looking at Flash, nor Cardin or Russel, only looking at the skybus as though she could will it to get down here faster.

The voice, that familiar voice with the strong accent, the oral equivalent of a particularly pungent cheese, made her turn her head away from the slowly descending skybus, past the queue of other people — some students, mostly tourists — who were also waiting for the airship, and to Lieutenant Martinez, who was stomping towards them in a dark grey trouser suit and a white blouse.

“Lieutenant?” Russel said. “What are you—?”

“It’s about that Atlas student,” Weiss said softly, although not so softly that her words didn’t reach Lieutenant Martinez. “Isn’t it?”

Lieutenant Martinez stopped in front of the four students. With both hands, she fastened up her jacket with one button. “Yeah,” she said shortly, her equine tail giving a little toss behind her. “Yeah, that’s why I’m here. You kids heard about that.”

“You could say that,” Flash murmured.

“And you could say that one of the dead girl’s teammates stormed right into the dining hall and accused—”

“Russel,” Weiss cut him off. “Not in front of the tourists.”

Russel seemed to abruptly realise that they were not alone. “Oh. Oh, right, yeah.” He coughed. “Sorry.”

“I see,” Lieutenant Martinez said. “Is there a suspect that I should know about?”

“No,” Weiss said. “There’s no way that it could have been … her.”

Lieutenant Martinez glanced at the queue of people waiting to board the skybus — when it finally arrived. “I take it that we’re talking about a certain Mistralian here.”

“Yes,” Cardin said. “Very much so.”

“Right,” Lieutenant Martinez muttered. “Well, for what it’s worth, I agree; I don’t see her as a suspect either.”

“But you are here to investigate,” Cardin said. “Right?”

“Yes, Cardin, that is why I’m here, instead of watching your match in the comfort of my own living room with my husband and my two boys,” Lieutenant Martinez said.

“I wouldn’t have thought that this was a Flying Squad case,” Cardin went on.

“That makes two of us; I don’t think this is a Flying Squad case either,” Lieutenant Martinez replied. “Unfortunately, I don’t get paid to make that kind of decision.” She paused. “Anyway, don’t worry about that; I just wanted, while I was here, to wish you good luck. I won’t be able to watch the two of you, but I’m rootin’ for you anyway.”

Weiss pushed back her shoulders a little. “Thank you, Lieutenant; we’ll do our best not to disappoint.”

“You’d better,” Lieutenant Martinez said. “I’ve been singing your praises all round the office.” She smiled. “You all did pretty good last time, by the way.”

“Thanks, El-Tee,” Russel said.

Lieutenant Martinez looked at Weiss. “Listen … I don’t know how it’s been, since … I don’t know if anyone’s said anything, or … but if they are, then don’t listen to them. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still a diamond. Now go knock ‘em dead up there.”

“I shall certainly…” Weiss began. “I will,” she said.

“We will,” Flash added.

“That’s the spirit,” said Lieutenant Martinez. She glanced upwards to where the skybus was almost upon them. “I’d better leave you to it and get back to work myself.” She turned away, her jacket flapping a little as the updraft from the airship’s engines caught it, and began to walk back towards the school just as the skybus landed on the docking platform.

The door on the side of the airship opened, and Pyrrha, Jaune, Ruby, and Penny emerged.

At least Sunset is staying to watch my match, I suppose, Weiss thought.

And besides, I would wear the self-pity better if I had watched Sunset and Pyrrha. Instead, she had used the time to attempt Summoning, the last aspect of the Schnee semblance that she had not yet unlocked. Once she did so, then she would be able to summon spectral avatars of foes that she had slain — grimm, principally; at least, that was all Weiss had ever seen Winter summon — to fight on her behalf. If she was able to do it, if she was able to unveil the ability at the tournament, then it would no doubt make quite a stir.

Sadly, for all her effort, she still hadn’t been able to do it. That last piece of her birthright remained frustratingly beyond her reach.

Instead of explaining all of that, Weiss said nothing more than, “Congratulations, Pyrrha.”

“Thank you,” Pyrrha said, “and the very best of luck to both of you. I’m sorry that I won’t be able to watch, but I have some … pressing matters to take care of.”

“Of course,” Weiss said, with an easy tone that masked her disappointment. “Think nothing of it. Besides, you’ll have other chances to see me, I guarantee it.”

---

Ruby led the way as the airship rose behind them, carrying Team WWSR and everyone else up to the arena for the next match. Ruby and the rest were heading in the opposite direction, down the path towards the courtyard, her silver eyes glancing this way and that looking for—

Sunset? Ruby stopped, and Jaune coming up behind almost walked right into her. What was Sunset doing here? They’d left her up in the colosseum, but there she was standing in … oh, oh, no, right, no, it wasn’t Sunset was it, it was somebody dressed as Sunset. Someone who, now Ruby could actually stop and look at them, had darker skin than Sunset, much darker, like Ciel or Rainbow Dash. Although, if they were such a fan of Sunset that they wanted to dress as her, then surely they would have gone up to the colosseum and watched her match? It wasn’t as though they were going to get another chance now.

Ruby’s eyes narrowed a little. You know … there seemed something familiar about this girl, dressed as Sunset but kind of looking as though she was skulking about.

The Sunset cosplayer looked in Ruby’s direction and seemed to jump a little bit as though she was—

“Ruby?”

Now it was Ruby’s turn to jump — just a little bit — as she realised that Pyrrha, Jaune, and Penny had been joined by Yang, Amber, and Dove, and she hadn’t even noticed. It was Yang who loomed over her, back bent a little bit to get their faces on more of a level, looking down at her with worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” Yang asked. “You seemed a little bit spaced out there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ruby said. “I was just—” She looked back towards the … but she was gone. While Ruby had looked away, she had disappeared; there was an empty space in the crowd where she had been.

“Ruby?” Pyrrha asked.

“I…” Ruby shook her head. “It’s nothing, sorry, I just … thought I saw someone, but it was just someone in a costume.”

Yang laughed. “Yeah, I saw someone dressed as me — kind of dressed as me anyway; they had my Ember Celica — earlier. Which, you know, I think it’s kind of cool, seeing people all dressed up as us.” She looked at Pyrrha, a grin spreading across her face. “I bet you’ve gotten so used to it by now that all the fun has gone out of it.”

Pyrrha’s cheeks flushed red. “Well … you are … not entirely wrong.”

Yang snorted. “I take it you won, then?”

Pyrrha chuckled just a little bit. “Yes. Yes, we won.”

“Congrats,” Yang said.

“Yes, well done,” Amber said, “to you and Sunset.” She paused. “Where is Sunset?”

“She stayed behind to watch Weiss Schnee and Flash Sentry in their match,” Pyrrha explained.

“Oh, yes, she and Flash were … he was her boyfriend, wasn’t he?” Amber asked, putting a hand on Dove’s arm.

“Yeah,” Jaune agreed. “Although that was a while ago now, or at least I think it was. I don’t think Sunset ever said exactly when they broke up.”

“Can’t have been that long before the Beacon year started; they would hardly have been old enough to date before that,” Yang pointed out.

Ruby began to speak, “They could have—”

“They would hardly have been old enough to date,” Yang said, forcefully and with emphasis, as she looked down at Ruby.

Ruby rolled her silver eyes. Seriously? Seriously? “Relax, Yang, there’s nobody like that.”

“Good,” Yang said. “I don’t want you getting any ideas from Amber and Dove over here.”

“'Ideas'?” Ruby asked.

Amber beamed so brightly that Ruby almost watched to squint her eyes. “Dove and I are going to—”

“They don’t need to hear it, and they certainly don’t need to hear it here,” Yang declared. “Just know that it’s going to be happening at our place.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Penny.

“Penny,” Jaune said, his ears burning red as though he’d been lying with them both pressed up against a pillow … somehow; maybe with two pillows. “Even if I were sure that you wanted to know the answer, and I’m not, I don’t think I want to be here when it gets explained.”

Ruby blinked as she tried to work out what Yang was saying, or not saying. “Are you talking about—?”

“Yes,” Yang said quickly. “Yes, I am, but how do you know that?”

“Because I’m fifteen, not ten?” Ruby suggested. “And because I’ve read the Matter of Vale stories; what do you think Percy and Prince Tristan were doing that was so terrible it brought down the kingdom? They weren’t just kissing.”

“You told us that Percy and Tristan were in love,” Penny pointed out. “So if it wasn’t just kissing—”

“They’re talking about where calves come from, Penny,” Jaune said.

“'Where calves come from'?” Yang asked.

“Your parents showed you cows, didn’t they?” Dove suggested.

“My Dad took me out to see the bull in the west field when they let the cows in,” Jaune replied. “And then I saw the calf birthed nine months later. You?”

“It was pigs,” said Dove.

“How was that?” asked Jaune.

“Filthy,” said Dove.

“Could we … could we please talk about something else?” asked Pyrrha, who had turned about the same colour as a beetroot. “Amber, I rejoice at your happiness, but I confess I am not finding this conversation particularly edifying or decorous.”

“Sorry,” Jaune murmured.

“It’s not your fault; I’m the one who brought it up,” Yang added. “Sorry, Pyrrha; sorry, everyone, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. It’s private between Amber and Dove. I suppose it isn’t as funny as I thought it was.”

“It’s quite … there’s no need to apologise,” Pyrrha said as she looked down at her own feet. “It’s just that … where I come from, this isn’t something that ladies of a good background discuss in public. Especially not when there are other things to speak of, Ruby.”

“Yes! Right!” Ruby cried. “Yang, we were thinking about taking a trip east, and I think that you should come with us.”

Yang put her hands on her hips. “East? You mean, like, to Mistral?”

“No, not to Mistral, east of the mountains,” Ruby explained. “We’re going to see if we can find any of our long lost Rose relatives! Mom’s relatives!”

Yang frowned. “You mean like the land beyond the kingdom? East beyond Vale?”

“Uh huh,” Ruby agreed. “Where Mom came from?”

“That is a perilous journey,” Dove murmured.

“Is it really?” Amber asked. “Is it so dangerous?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Ruby assured her. “It’s not like it was in Olivia’s time, Dove; we’re not going to get ambushed by huge numbers of grimm. There are people who live there, people like my mom and her family, and there are even traders who travel between Vale and the land beyond, and we’re hoping that we can travel with them so we don’t have to, like, search the whole of the country looking for a town or whatever. People have been living there since before the Great War; just because neither Vale nor Mistral was able to hold onto it doesn’t mean that the land is super dangerous or uninhabitable. It just means that you maybe have to be a little bit tougher to survive there than you do in Vale or Mistral or Atlas.”

“So … Vacuo?” Penny suggested.

“Yeah,” Ruby agreed. “Yeah, Penny, that makes a lot of sense. It’s probably a lot like Vacuo, except it doesn’t have a huntsman academy.”

Certainly, it didn’t deserve to be looked down on the way that Sunset did.

Probably not, anyway.

Yang didn’t look very excited about all of this. She wasn’t smiling; she wasn’t really frowning either, but it almost looked as though she might get there if she was given long enough.

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of this figured out already,” Yang murmured.

Ruby smiled. “Just a little bit.”

Yang nodded. “So … when are you thinking of leaving?”

“Not right now,” Ruby said. “Maybe next spring break.”

“Amber,” Pyrrha said gently. “Unfortunately, we might have to postpone the Mistral trip, but we thought that perhaps—”

“It’s fine,” Amber said quickly, taking Dove’s hand in her own. “It’s fine, really. We don’t have to go right away, or even the first thing when you’re free. Just the fact that you were willing to … I can wait. Please, don’t worry yourselves about it.”

“Thanks, Amber,” Ruby said. “That’s really kind of you. It’s just … this means a lot to me.”

“You want to learn more about your mother and who she was and where she came from,” Amber replied. “Believe me, I understand it perfectly. I loved my mother very much, but … there were times when I wondered who my blood family were, what they were like, what it would be like to meet them.”

“Mmm,” Yang murmured. “This … this all sounds great, Ruby, it really does, but … I don’t get why you want me to come with you.”

“Because she’s your mom too,” Ruby insisted. “Because you should know as much as I do; don’t you want to know?”

“Yes, I want to know, I just wanted to be sure if you wanted me to know!”

“How many times do I have to say that I’m sorry about that?” Ruby demanded. “Professor Ozpin—”

“You didn’t have to listen to Professor Ozpin!” Yang cried. “You could have … do you think of me as your sister … or just your half-sister?”

Ruby clasped her hands together. “You’re my sister,” she said. “You’ll always be my sister. We had the same mom, and I want you to come with me to find out more about her and about where our family comes from. Our family. I never … if Mom were here, she’d tell you that her family was your family just as much as it is my family, and I never wanted to make you feel differently. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Yang whispered.

“No, it isn’t,” Ruby replied. “I hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Yang agreed. “But it’s still okay.” She went quiet for a little bit. “I want to come,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, I really want to come, but … what if Mom’s relatives don’t feel the same way? What if they—?”

“Then we turn around and come straight back home,” Ruby declared. “If they don’t want both of us, then they don’t deserve either of us.”

Yang stared down at her. “You … you’d do that, for—?”

“For family?” Ruby asked. “Every time.”

Finally, and about time, Yang smiled. “I love you. I love you a whole lot.”

Ruby grinned. “Well, I love you even more.”

---

“Boooo!” Leaf jeered at the TV “Boooo!”

“They’re not even on the field yet; you can’t see anything,” Veil pointed out.

“I know,” Leaf said. “I’m starting early.”

“Because she’s a Schnee?” Veil asked.

“Because her family’s company was going to sear their initials into my skin, yeah!”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Veil muttered. “I guess you want to see her taken down a peg, huh?”

“Absolutely,” said Leaf.

---

Rainbow, Blake, Twilight, and Sunset took their seats in the competitors section in the front of the stands. There was no sign yet of Weiss' teammates who weren't taking part in the battle, but Rainbow was sure that they'd be here at some point before the match got under way.

She stared down at the empty arena, the terrain from Trixie and Starlight's match all cleared away, just the white metallic surface, waiting for the next group of combatants to set foot upon it.

"Am I alright to sit here?" Sunset asked. "Or should I go to the other side of the arena where my cheering for Flash and Weiss won't bother you?"

"What are you talking about?" Rainbow demanded. "We're cheering for Weiss and Flash too."

"Oh, are you now?" Sunset demanded. "What, you wouldn't root for me and Pyrrha against Atlas students, but you'll root for Weiss and Flash?"

"She has a point," Blake murmured.

Rainbow, who hadn't looked at Sunset and who didn't look at Blake, folded her arms. "Yeah? Well … you won anyway, right?"

"Rainbow Dash?" Twilight said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Rainbow muttered.

"Liar," Twilight said. "What's up?"

Rainbow turned her head to look at her. "You don't want to know."

"Obviously, I do want to know, or I wouldn't be asking," Twilight pointed out as she grabbed Rainbow by the chin and turned her head so that she was forced to look at Twilight's face.

Twilight's face with her lower lip covering her upper lip, and her eyes seeming to get bigger, rounder, sadder, all her features softening up before Rainbow's very eyes.

"Twi," Rainbow said. "Come on, Twi, please don't do that."

Twilight kept on doing it anyway, because she knew what worked.

"Okay, okay, fine," Rainbow said. "It's not fair the way that you do that."

"It works, doesn't it?" Twilight asked, a smile replacing the pout on her face.

"I know it works; that's why it isn't fair," Rainbow said, raising her voice just a bit. She sighed. "She called me a house faunus last night."

"Who did?" Blake demanded.

"Sabine Silverband of Team Sabre," Rainbow explained. "One of the two that Weiss is going up against today. That's why I'm rooting for Weiss and Flash. I mean, it's also because we're friends, but partly, I want to see Sabine and Reynard get their heads pounded into the floor, even if that is a little disloyal to Atlas."

"Is that… that's why you disappeared for a little bit," Twilight said. "And then you came back with Lady Belladonna?"

Rainbow unfolded her arms, letting them both fall down onto her knees. "Yeah," she said. "I needed to go away and think about it—"

"What's there to think about?" Twilight asked. "They were just … did you take it seriously?"

"No," Rainbow said quickly. "If I took it seriously, I wouldn't be so mad at them for having said it. I just really didn't like the fact that they said it. All I asked them to do was not take how they felt about this SDC stuff out on Weiss, and they threw that at me."

"They sound like a charming bunch," Sunset murmured. "Maybe they'd be better off with the White Fang."

"That's not fair," Rainbow said.

Sunset looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"They called you—" Twilight started.

"I know what they called me," Rainbow said. "And I want them to get beaten down for it, don't get me wrong, but that doesn't make them evil or terrorists. It just makes them jackasses … angry jackasses, but the fact that they're jackasses doesn't mean that they don't have a right to be angry, if that makes sense."

"I feel like I should be the one saying that," Blake murmured.

"You can take the next one," Rainbow said.

Blake smiled softly.

"Is that … is that what it's going to be like for you?" Twilight asked. "Whatever you do for the faunus, you're going to get told that you're not enough of a faunus to … to be a faunus?"

"Perhaps," Blake admitted. "I know that my dad got called that a few times."

"And your mom," Rainbow said. "She told me that Sienna Khan called her one once, and she hit her across the face with a tray." She grinned. "You didn't tell me that your mom was such a badass."

"I never thought of my mom as being any kind of badass," Blake replied. "To me, she was just … Mom." She paused. "Do you think … do you think Team Sabre might try and take it out on Weiss? I mean, they didn't like you suggesting that it wasn't her fault."

"What are they going to do?" Sunset asked. "The tournament has rules."

"I know, I'm not suggesting that they'll try and injure her," Blake said, "but you can win with grace, or you can humiliate your opponents, and I worry that they'll be trying for the second option."

"They've got to win first," Sunset said.

"And that," Rainbow added. "That's what I hope won't happen."

---

"Are you okay?" Flash asked, as they waited in the tunnel.

"Of course," Weiss replied at once. She brushed her fingertips lightly against the hilt of Myrtenaster. "Everything that I told you all yesterday remains true today." She ventured a small smile. "Except that I dare to hope that we won over some hearts and minds yesterday."

Flash smiled too. "I'm pretty sure we made a good impression."

"And today, we will make another," Weiss declared. She frowned ever so slightly. "I do wish that we knew more about our opponents; unfortunately, I've not encountered this Team Sabre until now. I don't suppose you know anything?"

Flash shook his head. "No, nothing. We probably should have asked Rainbow Dash, or you could have asked Blake."

"Would they have told us?" Weiss asked. "You saw how they were this morning; Rainbow Dash and Blake are both my friends, but when it comes to this tournament, they're on the side of Atlas — the Academy, not the kingdom. I doubt they'd tell us anything. I would say that we know that our opponents are from Atlas, and we do … but that doesn't really tell us very much, does it?"

Flash chuckled. "No," he said. "Not really. I guess it could mean, it hopefully means, that they won't give us a hard time over … you know."

"Mmm," Weiss murmured. "We can certainly hope so, but we can't be sure. Anyway, we should—"

"Have you heard from anyone?" Flash asked her. "From back home, I mean, congratulations on making it into the second round?"

Weiss paused for a second. "Well," she murmured. "My little brother, Whitley, did send me this text message once we were done with our match yesterday." She got out her scroll, grateful to have something to do with her hands while she waited, and opened it up; Whitley's message was near the top of the list, and she found it easily. She read it out, although it was so short that she could have given the gist of it by heart. "'Dear Weiss—'"

"Is he sending you a text or writing you a letter?" Flash asked.

Weiss let out a little laugh. "The formality of our house would make many a Mistralian of the Old Blood stare in amazement," she declared. She thought about the Mistralian aristocrat that she knew best — not that well, admittedly — and revised her remark, "Well, perhaps not them, but everyone short of that proud station would doubtless find us very odd. May I continue?"

"Of course," Flash said. "Sorry to interrupt."

"It's no trouble," Weiss assured him. She cleared her throat and began to read once again. "'Dear Weiss, I see that you managed to emerge victorious from that bit of barbarism, even if it did mean letting yourself get assaulted by some desert savage. I could never voluntarily subject myself to such indignities, and it amazes me that you can. I am as awed by the courage as I am dismayed by the folly of it all. Well done and best of luck in the next round brawl.'" She closed her scroll.

Flash stared at her. "That … that was … at least he wished you luck."

Weiss covered her mouth with one hand as she put her scroll away. "That was actually quite a supportive message."

"Really? What would an unsupportive message look like?"

"Sheer venom," Weiss said. "Possibly with a coating of strong sarcasm." She paused. "I don't expect Whitley to understand why I'm doing this — the tournament, or Beacon, or becoming a huntress; just the fact that he's watching is nice to know. Oh, and I heard from Klein as well?"

"That's … the butler, right?" Flash asked.

"Yes, that's right," Weiss replied. "He gave me a call last night."

"Nice," Flash said. "But … you didn't…" He didn't ask about her parents, although she could tell that he wanted to, or had been about to, or at least that he had noted the absence of any mention of either of her parents. But he did not actually mention it, and for that, she was grateful.

"And you?" Weiss asked. "Did your mother call or send you a message?"

"No," Flash said at once. "No, she wouldn't; she…"

"Doesn't approve," Weiss murmured.

"Yeah," Flash agreed. "That's about the size of it." There was a rather forced quality to his smile as he added, "Still, I'm sure that when I get back to Atlas, she'll have fun showing me off at all the parties, especially if we win this match."

Weiss would have very much liked to say that she didn't know what he was talking about; unfortunately, she really couldn't.

"Yes, well…" She reached out with one small, pale hand, enclosing it around some of his fingers. "Just remember that we do not fight for those who seek only to borrow the light of our prestige, but for ourselves. This isn't about your mother or my parents or the SDC; this is about us, huntsman and huntress, and all that we are and all that we can be. And all that we have done and will do. It's all for us, not for them."

Flash looked at her, and then he looked down at her hand, around his fingers. He moved his other hand towards her, as though he meant to take it, but then, before he actually did, he almost recoiled, pulling his hand away. "We should … probably get out there," he said.

Weiss let go of his fingers. "Yes," she said, "you're probably right."

She led the way, out of the shadows and into the light of the arena, emerging into view to a … rather more muted reception than she had, in all honesty, been hoping for. Nobody was singing songs about them — or Atlas, for that matter. There were some cheers, more than there had been yesterday, there were some boos as well, but overall, there was just not a great deal of noise.

There were not a great many people around to make the noise. That was not to say that the colosseum was empty — she was sure that the crowd assembled would have filled up many lesser venues — it was just that in the vast space of the Amity Arena Weiss could not help but notice — without even having to look around much — that there were a large number of empty spaces.

I bet there weren't this many empty seats for Pyrrha.

Apparently, I'm not considered much of a draw.

Weiss was not blind to the irony of the fact that, forced into singing by her father, she regularly filled up whole concert halls and stadiums full of people come to hear her do something that didn't even rise to the level of a hobby in terms of her enjoyment of or commitment to it, yet now, when she was following her passion and ambition both at the same time, nobody wanted to know.

Fewer people, anyway, or it seemed so, whatever the exact numbers.

The irony was not lost on her, but that didn't mean she had to like being greeted with the attendance equivalent of a shrug of the shoulders.

Is to be regarded with indifference better or worse than being hated? A question to be asked.

Nevertheless, in spite of the indifference of the crowd, Weiss and Flash made their way to the central hexagon, where they waited for their opponents to show themselves.

It was only once Weiss and Flash were both stood still and waiting that Weiss saw the two figures emerging from the opposite end of the stadium. They walked quickly across the white metal, and as they got closer, Weiss saw something that caused her eyes to widen and her mouth to flap open with a gasp of surprise.

Both of their opponents had painted the letters 'SDC' upon their faces, surrounded with a square border, all in a brownish red like old, congealed blood that looked unmistakably like the pictures of the brands found on the faunus rescued from the facilities uncovered by Blake and Rainbow Dash.

They … they really … is this allowed?

The crowd seemed as confused about that as Weiss was, because they didn't cheer for the Team SABR duo, nor did they boo them; instead, the overwhelming sound that Weiss heard was one of confusion, surprise, and uncertainty.

Or perhaps that was simply what Weiss wanted to hear because it was better than sympathy.

The girl, Sabine Silverband, smirked as her matte black tail swished eagerly back and forth behind her. She was wearing a white jacket — with a black collar — over a black dress, with a necklace of blue ice dust crystals around her neck. Strapped to her right wrist, she had what Weiss presumed to be her weapon: a grey, square, blocky contraption that looked as though it shot something; something flat, judging by the slit at the front.

"Is there a problem, Miss Schnee?" she asked, the smirk fixed on her face.

Weiss was reminded of the way that Rainbow Dash had greeted her when they first met, Miss Schnee this and Miss Schnee that. I should have known that deference would be thrown back in my face at some point.

Of course, the two Atlas students had put her in a position where she couldn't really complain about it without seeming petulant and thin-skinned. Was she supposed to stamp her foot and demand that they wipe those letters off their faces?

It has nothing to do with me, I have nothing to be ashamed of.

I wonder if everyone watching feels the same way.

Weiss drew Myrtenaster with a flourish, pointing it towards Sabine. "Not at all," she said. "The only problem is that the match hasn't started yet."

Sabine snorted. “We are here for all the faunus!” she declared as the view from the giant screens lingered on the letters she had painted on her face. “And you,” she pointed at Weiss, “will get what you have coming to you.”

Weiss did not respond. What would have been the point? The last thing she wanted to do was be drawn into an argument about her responsibility for the actions of elements of the Schnee Dust Company.

“Kick their asses, Weiss! And Flash!”

Weiss smiled slightly as the shout from Rainbow Dash reached her ears.

Not quite here for all the faunus, then.

“Ahem,” Professor Port cleared his throat; even that sound echoed around the arena. “Let’s get things underway, shall we?”

“Weiss Schnee and Flash Sentry of Beacon!” announced Doctor Oobleck as the icons for the different terrain types began to spin around the edges of the diagonal sides of the hexagon. “Sabine Silverband and Reynard Kerak of Atlas!”

Reynard wore his Atlesian armour white, with a red stripe running down his chest and stomach; he had a long but sturdy arming sword at his hip, which he drew, while on his left arm, he carried what looked like a cross; Weiss guessed that it would use hard light dust to generate a shield, although it could be used as a launcher for some other kind of dust, however ungainly it might be to wield it thus.

She thought she was right on her first guess, however.

With a succession of beeps, the rolling images came to a halt, selecting the four biomes for this battle: behind Weiss and Flash, the ice field and the savannah; behind Sabine and Reynard, the mountain and the shipwreck.

The floor around the central hexagon opened up, and the biomes arose: the white field of ice, the savannah with its long grass and solitary tree, the dashed wooden ship with its tall mast, the mountain rising above all else.

“Three!” Professor Port cried.

“Two!” shouted Doctor Oobleck.

Weiss stepped into her preferred starting stance, Myrtenaster drawn back past her head, the blade at eye level with her face.

Flash pulled Rho Aias off his back and into one hand, holding Caliburn in spear mode for an overarm descending thrust.

“One!” Professor Port bellowed. “Begin!”

Sabine raised her arm — with the square, heavy gauntlet attached — towards Weiss and immediately fired at Weiss a disc, a thin metal disc about the size of a buckler, with a small, fine circle of ice dust set in the centre of it. The disc blasted out of her gauntlet, spinning as it flew for Weiss’ head.

Flash moved in a flash, despite his bulky-seeming armour, throwing himself between Weiss and Sabine, planting his feet like a tree planting its roots in the soil, raising Rho Aias to shield his own face. The disc slammed into Flash’s shield and bounced off, spinning away to some distant corner of the battlefield, while Flash himself was unmoved, the force of the blow absorbed by his semblance.

Sabine scowled, and more discs fired out of her gauntlet, leaping from the narrow slit to razor through the air towards the two members of Team WWSR. Sabine loosed disc after disc, and disc after disc slammed into Flash and his Rho Aias, rebounding off the shield, flying away somewhere, while Flash stolidly endured the strikes and, thanks to his semblance, wasn’t moved by them at all; he stood like a stone wall, taking everything that Sabine could dish out without flinching.

But his aura was dropping under a combination of Sabine’s hits and his own semblance use. He couldn’t keep this up forever.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to.

Weiss cycled the cylinder built into Myrtenaster’s hilt, cycling through red fire dust, yellow lightning dust, blue ice dust, until she came to the pale blue hard light dust that she was looking for.

“Just a little longer, Flash,” she told him as she conjured up an array of white glyphs, charged with hard light dust, half a dozen of them forming a halo around her head.

You’re not the only one who can shoot.

Laser beams erupted out of Weiss’ glyphs like bullets from a rotary cannon, glyphs firing in sequence one after the other, from the left and working their way to the right before starting again. The bolts of hard light soared over and around Flash’s head towards Sabine.

It was the turn of Reynard to put himself between his team leader and the attacks of their opponent. He planted his cross upon the arena surface, and immediately, it began to glow with a pale blue light.

Hard light. I was right.

The cross grew larger, beams of hard light extending upwards and outwards, and then more hard light filling in the space between the arms of the cross, a honeycomb-pattern barrier of hard light that absorbed Weiss’ laser fire without breaking, without even seeming to fluctuate under the fire.

Weiss kept up her bombardment, for now, if only for something to do while she thought — and in part for the hope that the shield might prove weak and she could batter through it if she could just keep up the fire for long enough. That was a strategy, not least because she could fire over Flash, while Sabine couldn’t fire over Reynard’s hard light barrier, so of the two of them, she was the one who could continue firing while the SABR duo had rendered themselves immobile and incapable of responding.

However, while Weiss might have taken the chance that a hard light pavise like this one made in Mistral or Vacuo might crumble under pressure and shoddy workmanship, she was a little more wary of doing so when faced with Atlas tech.

There was a good chance that she would run out of hard light dust for her lasers before Reynard’s shield gave way, in which case, she and Flash would be worse off than their enemies.

But there were other ways, and her point that the enemy had immobilised themselves held true.

“Flash,” she said, “I need you to keep Reynard pinned down with a frontal assault, while I—”

“Do you really think that’s all I’ve got, Miss Schnee?” Sabine yelled, her voice cracking.

At first, it was very faint, so faint that Weiss took a moment to notice it: the glow of ice dust crystals, each one glimmering blue, sparkling as the metal discs in which they were set rose into the air from all the different parts of the battlefield on which they had landed.

“What an extraordinary display!” Doctor Oobleck declared from the commentators’ box. “Sabine Silverband’s semblance allows her to manipulate ice, so by placing a small amount of ice dust within each of her discs, she can control them as if by telekinesis!”

Weiss knew, because she had overheard the grumbling about it, that a lot of students participating in the Vytal Tournament didn’t especially like having the details of their semblances revealed to the audience at home — and to their competitors in the arena. Unfortunately for Weiss, knowing how Sabine was doing it — and yes, it was rather clever of her — didn’t really help Weiss to do anything about it.

It did not, for example, help her to stop the metal discs that were closing in on her and Flash, emerging from out of the tall grass and the ice field, rising up out of the water, descending from the mountaintop. They closed in like a swarm of flies come to eat their fill.

“Stay where you are, Flash,” Weiss said as she skipped three steps towards him and, with both hands, rammed Myrtenaster, point first, down into the grey metallic surface of the central hexagon. She grunted as she conjured up glyph after glyph, black glyphs, the barrier glyphs, she threw them up one another after all around the two of them, conjuring them in haste as Sabine’s discs began to rain down towards the pair of them.

The discs flew down, and Weiss threw her barrier glyphs up, trying to form a dome of glyphs that would completely encompass the both of them before the discs — there were twelve of them, maybe more, maybe as many as fifteen; it was hard to accurately count — struck home. The glyphs appeared in mid-air, forming lines stretching up from the ground, stitching patterns together, and where they appeared, Sabine’s discs bounced off them a second time, and even a third.

But there were so many glyphs that Weiss had to conjure, and before she had conjured enough, before she had completed her dome of protection, three of the metal discs had slipped through the net and into her defences.

And they were all aimed at Weiss.

Flash, no longer having to worry about a frontal assault, turned away and batted one aside with a thrust from Caliburn, but the other two were too quick, and Sabine’s control over them too dexterous.

Weiss drew her sword from out of the ground — now that the glyphs were conjured, keeping them so did not require all her attention — and the rapier blade lashed out, a silver light cutting through the air, to strike first one disc and then the other, knocking them away.

As more discs slammed into her glyphs from the outside, these three struck from the inside, and from either side, the glyphs held firm.

That was mostly to the good, but not so good, considering it meant that they were essentially trapped with these three discs of Sabine’s that had managed to get in.

They flew at Weiss again, from all directions this time. Again, Flash caught one of them, but two more came from other directions, and Weiss was forced to pirouette on her toes, her ponytail whirling around her, to catch them both with Myrtenaster.

Obviously, this situation couldn’t endure forever, but the moment that Weiss let the glyphs go, then more of these discs would descend upon them. She needed a plan, and she needed to fend off these three discs while she planned, whirling in place, conjuring more glyphs where she could, trying to keep an eye on all three discs at once as they darted this way and that in search of an opening.

Weiss and Flash stood back to back, so that Weiss did not have to look everywhere to protect herself; his gilded cuirass felt hard against her back, the crest of his helmet was scratchy against the back of Weiss’ head, but there was something reassuring about the feeling as well.

It was reassuring that he was there, here with her.

It was reassuring to hear the solid clanging sounds as Sabine’s discs rebounded off his shield; it was, she had to admit, a much more reassuring sound than the noise made as she deflected them with Myrtenaster.

Come on, Weiss, what’s the plan? You can’t just stand here until your aura runs out.

I’m still the fastest person on this battlefield, and the most nimble and manoeuvrable as well. So long as I can stay ahead of her discs … or stop them.

A smile crossed Weiss’ face. Yes. Yes, that might work.

She cycled the cylinder in Myrtenaster to red fire dust.

“I take it that you have a plan,” Flash said.

“What makes you say that?” asked Weiss as she batted aside a disc with a flick of Myrtenaster.

“Because you wouldn’t be changing dust if you didn’t,” Flash replied.

Weiss smiled. “Then yes,” she said, striking out with her rapier to knock another disc away before it could hit her. “I have a plan. When I drop my glyphs,” — she paused, expecting Flash to protest; he didn’t, for which she found herself rather grateful — “I want you to go forward, keep Reynard busy. I’m going to work around and behind his barrier and deal with Sabine.”

“Fair enough,” Flash said. “What about all these discs?”

Weiss took a step forward, the better to assume a fencing stance, one foot forward, blade at the ready. “I’ve got a plan for that, too,” she said, and dropped all of her black glyphs.

Every disc that Sabine had fired descended on Weiss at once, as though Sabine wanted to crush Weiss underneath her shield-like discs.

“Go, Flash!” Weiss yelled as she spun in place, and as she spun, she let a tongue of fire rip out of Myrtenaster which whirled around Weiss like a dancer’s ribbon.

Because Sabine couldn’t control the metal of the discs — she wasn’t using telekinesis or ferrokinesis — she was controlling the ice dust, and the ice dust only, which meant if that dust was gone, then the discs, once fired, were useless.

Thank you, Doctor Oobleck.

Weiss’ tongue of fire engulfed the three discs that had been caught on the wrong side of Weiss’ glyphs, the three that were closest and had troubled her the most; the fire swept over them, and though it wasn’t hot enough to melt the metal, it did make the embedded dust crystals explode, falling in tiny shards down to the floor — and the metal discs with them. Sabine couldn’t move them anymore.

Weiss allowed the smile to remain on her face as she danced in place, turning this way and that, shooting fire out of Myrtenaster at each disc as it shot towards her, sometimes conjuring a glyph here or there to cover herself, but mostly relying on the flames, on the flames that burned the ice dust to nothing and sent disc after disc falling with a clatter to the ground.

Weiss was not quite fast enough to catch all of the discs; one of them slipped past her flames to slam into the side of her head, knocking her off her feet and onto the ground. But Weiss still had Myrtenaster in her hand, and as the disc swung around for another pass, she raised the blade, a fireball leaping from it to catch the disc in mid-air, consuming the little ice dust wafer embedded within.

Weiss didn't wait for the disc to fall. She was already on her feet, running across the central hexagon towards the savannah biome.

Soon, after only a few pounding steps, she ceased to run, conjuring instead a white glyph a couple of inches off the ground, a glyph onto which she leapt as it turned lazily in the air, a glyph which took her weight as solidly as the floor beneath. A glyph from which she conjured a whole line of glyphs, a column of them running across the central hexagon and then rising above the tall grass of the savannah, so that as the glyphs carried Weiss along, she seemed to run atop the surface of the grass with such light step that she did not disturb it.

"Look, grandfather, look at me fly!"

Weiss laughed a little to remember that now, of all times: the joy that she had taken in her semblance then, the way the old man had smiled from his chair as though she had accomplished the most wonderful thing, and not the very least that should be expected of a Schnee.

Look, grandfather, I will make you proud yet.

Weiss skated rapidly atop her glyphs, over the savannah grass and towards the shipwreck. A mockup of an old wooden sailing ship, its hull of wooden planks holed and tattered but its mast still rising proud and tall above the broken deck, lay half-submerged in an artificial sea, with a narrow border of sandy beach where the biome joined to the mountain, the savannah, and to the central hexagon.

Weiss conjured up more glyphs out over the surface of the water, gliding over the artificial ocean around the edge of Reynard's hard light barrier.

She could see that Flash had his shield pressed up against that barrier, discharging the lightning dust in his shield in an effort to break through, but whether he broke through or not, Reynard could not turn away without leaving himself exposed and vulnerable.

Sabine was another matter. She could see what Weiss was doing, as plainly as Weiss could see Flash attempting to batter through Reynard's barrier, and because she could see, Sabine rushed towards Weiss and the shipwreck biome. She was slower than Weiss, without any glyphs to glide over, but as she ran, she raised her arm and fired more discs from her gauntlet.

Weiss retreated, white glyphs carrying her backwards towards the edge of the battlefield, while she raised her free hand and Myrtenaster; with her hand, she conjured up a pair of black glyphs to shield herself; with Myrtenaster, she loosed fireballs towards the discs that flew towards her.

The fireballs struck home; the discs passed through the flames, borne onwards by their momentum, but the ice dust within was gone.

The spinning discs slammed into Weiss' black glyphs, and there, they remained, suspended, spinning without moving.

"Would you like to see all I've got?" Weiss muttered, as she closed her hand into a fist. The black glyphs that held Sabine's discs turned a brilliant blue as the discs rebounded backwards as though they had run into rubber, flying backwards towards Sabine.

None of them struck her; Sabine dived out of the way, rolling along the ground, but as she dived, she had to stop shooting any more discs in Weiss' direction. Weiss passed over the water on a line of glyphs and reached the central hexagon again.

Sabine rolled to her feet, ripping one of the ice dust crystals from around her neck off its string and throwing it towards Weiss. It landed just short of her, before her as she glided forwards, the dust crystal erupting into a wall of ice to block her way. Weiss waved Myrtenaster in front of her like a wand, and a wave of fire swept out before her, burning through the ice — at the cost of the last of the fire dust stored in Myrtenaster. Weiss switched to yellow lightning dust as she burst through Sabine's collapsing barrier and raced towards her.

Sabine scowled, wiping one hand down her face, smearing the SDC letter she had painted on her skin, smearing her face with red lines like streaks of blood, before she tore off two more ice crystals from around her neck. She flung one ice crystal down to the ground at her feet, forming a round patch of ice onto which she leapt, while the other transformed in her hand into an icy sword, jagged, with spikes and shards of ice jutting out from all over the blade like thorns on rose.

Sabine swept the sword backwards for a slashing stroke as her patch of ice moved forwards, skidding across the arena surface towards Weiss.

Weiss glided sideways a step upon her white glyphs — she had no desire to physically collide with her opponent — but kept on skating across the grey surface towards Sabine. They met, close to the centre of the battlefield, Weiss' Myrtenaster clashing with Sabine's icy sword once, twice, as the two of them glided past one another like old-fashioned jousting knights.

And just like knights in the joust of old, they turned to face each other once again.

Weiss contemplated raising Myrtenaster in a salute to her opponent, but she doubted that Sabine would have appreciated the gesture, at least not coming from Weiss Schnee.

Instead, she drove hard at Sabine Silverband, using her glyphs to propel herself faster. The colosseum, the crowd, the whole world blurred around her as she flew faster than an arrow aimed straight at her enemy. Sabine fell back, parrying desperately. Her sword of ice clashed against Myrtenaster with subtle crunching, tingling sounds. Sabine's expression, teeth bared, brows turned outward, eyes wide, was one of mingled frustration and concern.

Did you expect me to be some useless pampered princess? Weiss thought, as she thrust at Sabine again and again, Myrtenaster's point seeking out the weaknesses in her guard.

"Weiss!" Flash shouted. "Behind you!"

Weiss retreated, gliding backwards away from Sabine even as she turned to see all the stalagmites from the ice biome, wrenched out of the ground by Sabine's semblance, flew like spears towards her.

Weiss held out her hand, conjuring a black glyph as tall as she was to cover her back against Sabine, while before her, she traced spindly silvery patterns in the air with Myrtenaster, shattering the icy spears one after another. Shards of broken ice fell at her feet.

Out of the corner of her eye, Weiss saw Sabine float on her icy platform around Weiss' glyph.

Weiss didn't bother to turn around; rather, she skated forwards, then, with a deft switch from white glyphs to black beneath her feet, launched herself up into the air, staying ahead of the discs that Sabine fired at her, all of them flying through the empty air where she had been but was not now. They would turn on her, no doubt, moved by Sabine's semblance, but they would still have to catch her first. Another white glyph, conjured in the air, provided a platform to stand on for half a second or less before Weiss moved on, leaping to another glyph that hung at an upside down angle.

Weiss hung, ponytail drooping down towards the ground, and began to conjure up a series of black glyphs all around Sabine, a prison of dark swirling shapes and patterns that hemmed her in and confined her.

Sabine turned this way and that, slashing at the glyphs with her icy sword to no avail.

"Now you're putting me in a cage?!" she shouted.

Weiss ignored her ranting and dove down, propelled by her glyph. Speed was her ally and her hope, and as Sabine's discs pursued her, Weiss dove like a seagull upon the chips of the hapless tourist — or perhaps something a little more majestic and less verminous — down on Sabine.

The black glyphs which held Sabine and would have shielded her from Weiss' onslaught dissipated a second before Weiss flew past Sabine, lashing out with Myrtenaster to knock one of her legs out from under her and send her falling to one knee upon her ice platform, but otherwise, she was untouched as Weiss skated around behind her — placing Sabine between Weiss and all of Sabine's discs which were now flying straight at her.

Sabine had no time to react before her own weapons slammed into her in such a mass that Weiss thought they were going to bury her for a second, but which did knock her off her platform, knock the sword of ice from her grasp, and knock her flying backwards, head snapped around, arms and legs flailing.

And as she flew, Weiss jammed Myrtenaster, point first, into Sabine's back, and discharged her lightning dust.

Lighting rippled down the slender blade and up and down Sabine's body, snapping, biting, tearing at her aura as Sabine contorted in mid-air, devouring her shield until it dropped into the red.

A klaxon blared across the battlefield.

"Sabine Silverband has been eliminated by aura depletion!" Doctor Oobleck yelled.

Sabine flopped down onto her back on the ground, glaring up at Weiss without a word.

Weiss took two steps back, her attention turning to Reynard. Flash had brought down his hard light barrier, and now, the metal cross stood abandoned where he had planted it on the ground. Reynard and Flash were clashing, Reynard's sword against Caliburn in sword mode and Rho Aias.

Reynard's aura was lower than Flash's, and Weiss could see that Flash was methodically working his way to victory, taking the blows upon his shield and creating openings for his own blade; there was no doubt in her mind that, if left alone, he would eventually triumph.

But that didn't mean she couldn't help him along.

Weiss cycled back to hard light dust and once more conjured a set of pale blue glyphs, eight in total, all around her.

She fired a single volley, eight light blue laser bolts flying from her glyphs to strike Reynard, throw him to the floor and take his aura down into the red.

The klaxon sounded once again.

"Reynard Kerak has been eliminated!" Professor Port declared. "The duo of Weiss Schnee and Flash Sentry wins the match!"

There was a moment of silence in the arena, then, beginning quietly, like the first stirrings of distant thunder, then growing louder and louder like a tempest all around them, the booing began.

Jeers fell down like rain. Weiss turned in place, looking this way and that, as if, by turning, she could see the friendly voice she could not hear. She could see Rainbow Dash with her distinctive hair, but if she was cheering, the sound of it was drowned out by the sound of the crowd's disdain that rained down so thick, despite the relative paucity of the crowd, that it threatened to fill the arena and sweep both Weiss and Flash away.

I suppose that answers that question: I preferred it when they were indifferent.

And to think I once thought that I might win the crowd over.

As Sabine got to her feet, she laughed darkly, but not bitterly as Weiss might have expected, unless it was with bitter satisfaction. "Congratulations on your victory, Miss Schnee," she said, and the strong sarcasm coating her words was made even stronger by the mocking curtsy that she offered Weiss. "May you have joy of it."

---

“Two victories,” Twilight said. “Two victories, and still, they boo her! That last win was nearly flawless.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rainbow said, shaking her head from side to side. “As much as we might wish it otherwise, the wins don’t matter. In fact, the wins — especially this win — kind of make it worse. The narrative has been set.”

“The … narrative?” Blake repeated. “This isn’t a story; this is Weiss’ life.”

“This is the Vytal Tournament, and the fact that it’s really happening doesn’t mean that we don’t tell stories about it,” Rainbow replied. “Or else, why do people root for underdogs?” She paused, and then continued on more quietly. “Who is the hero, who is the villain, who is the underdog?”

“And so, Weiss, she’s the villain?” Sunset asked. “I get what you’re talking about in the abstract — our lives are made of stories after all — but … Weiss?”

“Unfortunately … I can see why,” Blake said softly. “It isn’t right, and Weiss doesn’t deserve it, but I can see why.”

“Right,” Rainbow muttered. “She’s become the villain of this whole tournament, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Comments

[Kiue Jin]

Poor Weiss. She tries so hard to be a good person... and no one cares.

[Mastermind4892]

Team SABR better stay out of Winter’s way. As should Ironwood, once she finds out he allowed the idea that has brought such suffering upon Weiss.

Nicholas Schnee would weep. He would rejoice at his granddaughter’s performance, but there was a time he had the loyalty and admiration of all Faunus. He worked and fought beside them every step of the way. And so he would weep at how his legacy, all his blood and sweat, has been so tarnished the masses are determined to see his poor granddaughter cast as the villain.

Another irony is how this will hopefully make the racists in Vale (enchanted by the Siren) shut up for a while, with Faunus sympathy higher than ever. It’s all the news will talk about until the next big match or controversy.

I only hope Pyrrha can say something meaningful upon the stage of her final match before all of Remnant. Only her purity of honor and untouchable reputation can help Weiss now.

11695708
This might be the most I've been disappointed in General Ironwood since the end of Volume 7. I thought that he had learned. Instead, because he wasn't thinking, Weiss will be suffering more than Penny was. Penny wanted to think for herself, to choose her own path instead of her father's, and not be judged for it. Weiss has now lost that chance. Now, the whole world will paint Weiss as every bit the monstrous villain as her Jacques Schnee. Well done, Ironwood. You gave the green light for a controversy that would drag an innocent girl into the same horrible mess her father brought on himself.

[Stet709]

11695743
Not to mention he just had Team Sabre punished for that slanderous remark against Rainbow Dash, yet he's willing to allow this since it's technically not against the rules. I mean, just because it's legal doesn't make it moral or ethical...

Talk about a contrast between the last match and this one. From thunderous cheering to raucous booing.

[RanmaChaos]

I hope Winter eviscerates them

[AdverseFlower95]

With Weiss always going around with the Schnee Snowflake and her music career, I can understand why they would think that she is a kind of brand ambassador for the company. That combined with how she is the heiress of the company and had company resources take care of the news media that went against her team because of Cardin really brings the point home. It’s not like Winter who went separate ways with the company, Weiss still plans on inheriting it so she should be prepared for the baggage that comes with that privilege.

[Mastermind4892]

11696542
And she had such plans, so many ambitions to remake the company as her grandfather dreamed. To make her own way. But now? Weiss’ “narrative” has been painted as the villain to the Vytal tournament, as well as for when she eventually inherits the family company. Her prospects of succession has been tainted.

Just like how everyone never sees past Pyrrha’s golden glory and royal heritage, the people now won’t want to see Weiss as anything but another tyrannical Schnee in the making.