SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Hope You Didn't Spend Money (New)

Hope You Didn’t Spend Money

Lieutenant Martinez answered her scroll, because it was from her husband, so of course she was going to answer.

“Hey, Mike, is everything okay back there?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, darlin’, don’t worry about us,” Mike replied in a soft, genial tone. “Any chance that you can make it home soon?”

Martinez made a kind of gargling noise with her throat. “I … I dunno, honey.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I got no leads, no suspects—”

“Seems like there isn’t much more than you can do up there,” Mike observed.

That … was not entirely incorrect, unfortunately; for sure, it was more true than Martinez liked, but at the same time, it wasn’t quite true enough to justify her going home yet, even if this was supposed to be her day off.

“Yeah,” she said, “but I still have to finish interviewing some more witnesses, and then I have to go back to the office and write it all up—”

“Are you going to make it home for dinner?”

“Yes, yes, I will definitely make it home for dinner,” Martinez promised. “They don’t get to drag me in on my vacation — a vacation they told me to take — and have me stay late doing paperwork. I will be home for dinner, you can bet on it.”

“I could probably get good odds on that.”

“Ah-ha, ah-ha, you should resign from the Coast Guard and do stand up comedy, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Probably you did, the last time I made a joke like that,” Mike replied easily.

Martinez snorted. Considering that most husbands would have left her by now for working too long, or too much, or leaving him going stag at work socials because she had to go kick down a door somewhere … if all that he did was make the occasional crack about it, then she was a very lucky woman indeed.

“I’ll be back,” she repeated. “What is it?”

“Tonight, Madame,” Mike said, his voice slipping into an appropriately culinary accent, “I will be cooking chicken arrabiata with chorizo and bacon, on a bed of spinach and half-roast potatoes.”

“Oh, my god, I’m drooling already,” Martinez said.

“Best wipe your mouth before interviewing your next witness,” Mike suggested. “You’re not letting those kids give you any trouble, are you?”

“I’m trying not to,” Martinez said. “I just had some Mistralian kid half my age correct me on the pronunciation of her name like I was some knuckle-dragging moron. I don’t know how they haven’t had a revolution over there.”

“I think they did, didn’t they?”

“Well, they didn’t do a very thorough job of it,” Martinez said sharply.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Yes, but not over the scroll,” Martinez said. “I’ll tell you all about it tonight, over a couple of glasses of whisky. And whatever you’re drinking.”

Mike laughed. “I’ll have them waiting for you when you get home too,” he promised. “Listen, the reason that I actually called you is that I have two little boys here tugging on my trouser leg who have a question to ask you.”

Martinez smiled, although with the call on voice only, neither Mike nor the kids could see it. “Is that right? You’d better put them on, then, before they tear your pants.”

“You got that right,” Mike said. “Hey, kids, it’s your mom.”

“Hey sweeties!” Martinez said into the scroll as she held it up to her face. “What’s up?”

It was Tyler who spoke, “Mom, why are they booing the huntsmen you like?”

Martinez frowned. “What do you mean, Ty?”

“We just watched Weiss Schnee and Flash Sentry,” Stuart explained. “You like them, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Martinez said. “I worked with them a little while ago.”

“They won,” Tyler told her. “But everybody’s booing them.”

Martinez rolled her eyes. “Well, you see, the thing is,” she rambled a little bit, “Weiss’ dad is a really famous guy. You know, every time Mom or Dad fills up the car, we have to pay Weiss’ father.”

“Really?” Stuart asked.

“Yeah, really,” Martinez told them. “Only now, a lot of people are mad at Weiss’ dad because of something…” She trailed off, searching for a way to explain it.

“Because of something he did?” Tyler asked.

“Not exactly, honey; it’s more that some people who worked for him did some very bad things, and so, people are mad at Weiss’ dad because he’s the boss, and he’s supposed to know everything that goes on.” And that, Martinez thought, was fair enough; if there had turned out to be a dirty cop in her unit, then she would expect to take the blame for not realising that they were bent; in just the same way, if she lost someone, then she’d rightly be brought to book for that as well. Having rank and position didn’t just mean a pay increase and everybody calling you ‘lieutenant’; it meant taking responsibility when things got screwed up. “And because he’s her dad, they’re mad at Weiss too.”

“But she didn’t do anything, right?” Stuart asked.

“No,” Martinez said, "no she didn’t."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the scroll.

“People are jerks,” said Stuart.

Martinez chuckled. “Unfortunately, you’re right,” she said. “More often than I would like you to be.”

---

Obviously, most of Team SAPR weren’t waiting for them in the tunnel when they walked off the battlefield — it would have been astonishing if they had been, considering that Weiss had seen them getting off the same airship that her team had gotten on — but Sunset was there, and Rainbow and Blake, and Twilight Sparkle as well, along with Cardin and Russel.

They were all waiting for her and Flash as they left the arena and all its jeering and booing behind, disappearing from the sight of the spectators who had taken such a disliking to them.

They seemed to be struggling to smile, for reasons that didn’t take a genius to understand.

“I’m quite alright,” she said. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Really?” Rainbow asked, sounding surprised. “Not at all?”

“Not at all,” Weiss lied, although she hoped it was not too much of a lie, more of an exaggeration really.

She very much hoped so, at least.

Blake’s eyes narrowed, but for the moment, at least, she said nothing.

Rainbow Dash, on the other hand, clasped her hands together and plastered a rather jovial smile across her face which strained to reach her eyes and almost managed it. “Okay then!” she declared. “In that case: congratulations; that was nearly flawless!”

Weiss’ eyebrows rose. “Only nearly flawless?”

“Well, you did take a couple of hits,” Rainbow pointed out. “And although it was technically a sweep by you, the fact that it took one hit for you to take out Reynard means that it doesn’t feel like you swept, if that makes any sense.”

“You mean the fact that I didn’t brawl with each member of the opposition in turn like Arslan Altan yesterday means that it doesn’t feel as though I’ve matched her accomplishment.”

“Yes, that’s it,” Rainbow said, a little apologetically.

“That’s fine; it doesn’t feel like I’ve matched her accomplishment either,” Weiss said. Not least because I only had two opponents, not four. “Especially since Flash did a lot more than it seemed like the rest of Team Auburn did for Mistral’s Golden Lion.”

“You’re flattering me, Weiss,” Flash said. “I didn’t do much of anything.”

“You kept your opponent pinned down so that Weiss could face off against Sabine one on one,” Sunset pointed out. “You broke through his shield, and you were winning your fight against him—”

“Before Weiss decided to killsteal,” Russel cut in. “That showed a very selfish and unpleasant side to you.”

He grinned to show that he didn’t mean it maliciously.

“Well, it wasn’t…” Weiss trailed off, before turning back to Flash with an apologetic smile. “No hard feelings, I hope?”

“For what?” Flash asked. “We won the fight; isn’t that what matters?”

“Yes, we did,” Weiss replied. “And Sunset — and Russel — are quite right, by the way; you played your part … invaluably. If it doesn’t feel like I took on the entire enemy force and defeated it myself, it’s because I didn’t; this was a team effort, even if the statistics don’t reflect it.” She paused and could not resist adding, “And besides, I don’t think that the crowd would care whether it felt like I swept all before me or not.”

“So it does bother you,” Blake observed.

“Certainly not,” Weiss declared, putting one hand upon her hip, and tilting her chin so as to stick her nose upwards into the air. “What care have I for the opinion of the fickle multitude, be it so good or bad?”

She could see out of the corner of her eye that nobody looked particularly convinced by that. In fact, they were all, with the very kind exception of Flash Sentry, looking at her with various degrees of scepticism upon their faces.

Sunset exhaled loudly out of her mouth. “You are correct, of course, in theory,” she said. “We all know it. And yet, we crave their approval nonetheless.”

“Not I,” Weiss insisted.

Sunset folded her arms. “Is that so?”

“Well … not as much as I might,” Weiss muttered. She lowered her chin a little. “I must admit it is a little annoying. I am not my father, and even my father wasn’t guilty of anything! To have them … are they allowed to do that? Is there no rule against it?”

“No, I’m afraid there isn’t,” Twilight murmured apologetically. “It isn’t even the first time that the Vytal Festival has been used as the site or expression of political protest; during the very first tournament after the Great War, before the Amity Colosseum was even built, a group of faunus stormed the arena itself, interrupting the one-on-one rounds to protest the deportations to Menagerie.”

“And so they can…” Weiss stopped short of saying ‘and so they can imply that I had something to do with what went on at those facilities’ for fear that Blake and Rainbow Dash — especially Blake — might feel her petty and self-centred if she appeared to care about her own reputation in that matter than the real victims in all of this.

“I see,” she murmured. “I can’t help but feel that it would suit the stated aims of this tournament better if politics were kept out of it, but … if it is legal, then it’s legal. And I did win the match, so I suppose I can’t complain about their behaviour too much. Even so … I suppose I had hoped that I might restore … I had hoped that people might be willing to look at me as myself, as Weiss Schnee, not as a mere limb of my father, to give me a chance and not to just see a chance to vent their frustrations with the SDC.” She took a deep breath. “I will go as far as I can, I will win as many battles as I can, and the dislike of the crowd will not dissuade me from that; but a victory that was accompanied by affection would have been sweeter, I admit.”

“Do you think…?” Rainbow glanced at Blake. “Maybe if we told everyone that Weiss was the one who helped us find out where that SDC facility was, they’d lay off? I mean, without your help, we never would have found Leaf; you’re arguably more of a hero in all of this than we are!”

“That’s very kind of you to offer, but no, thank you,” Weiss said softly. “While it might, possibly, change the opinions of the people … I doubt it would please my father very much.”

“So he’s one of those,” Cardin muttered.

“Yes,” Weiss murmured. “Without knowing exactly what you mean by that, I think he might well be, as you say, one of those. And so I would rather keep my name out of it.”

Twilight frowned. “And so… you’re more afraid of your father than of the crowd?”

“The crowd can only jeer at me in the arena,” Weiss said. “My father… well, let’s just say…” actually, she decided not to say, and simply trailed off. “It’s not important.”

Rainbow frowned. “And so there’s nothing that we can do to change the fact that…” She gestured at the tunnel entrance, and to the arena and the stands beyond. “That.”

Cardin frowned. “I … I might have a way.”

Blake glanced at him. “What is it?”

Cardin didn’t look at her, although thankfully, his reticence appeared to be driven more by embarrassment than by any sense of superiority; his head was too bowed for him to seem superior.

“I … I don’t know if it will work,” he said. “And she might just tell me to get lost — and I’m not sure that I’d be able to blame her if she did, and even if she doesn’t, then—”

“Cardin, you’re not selling this very well,” Flash pointed out.

Cardin barked with laughter. “No, I’m really not, am I?” he asked. “Maybe that’s because what I really want is to be told that I don’t have to go through with it, or that I shouldn’t go through with it, or … anything, really, other than that I have a good idea and that I should totally do that. Because I don’t really want to.”

“Then why would you?” Weiss asked.

Cardin shrugged his broad shoulders. “Because … because we are a team, after all, and you’ve been a pretty good leader lately, since … and it isn’t fair that people think of you as the bad guy. I mean, you didn’t even do anything; it’s all just about your father. It doesn’t seem right. And so … I’d like to help, and this is all that I can think of that might help, and so even though I don’t really want to do this, I will try if … if you’d like.”

“Before we ask Cardin to do something that he really, really, doesn’t want to,” Blake said, “perhaps my mother could help? She could … make a statement—”

“Saying what?” Weiss asked. “Please don’t be mean to me?”

Blake cleared her throat. “When you put it like that…” she muttered.

“I don’t know,” Rainbow murmured. “I mean … aside from the fact that some people would probably just call your mom a house faunus.”

She grumbled something under her breath, giving Weiss a moment to wonder what a house faunus was supposed to be. A faunus with a house? A faunus in a house? And why was it supposed to be a bad thing? It seemed like a perfect decent and respectable for a faunus; didn’t everyone want to have a house of their own, to live in and to pass on to their children? Would anyone use ‘house human’ as an insult? No, so then why ‘house faunus,’ and why would it matter if someone called Lady Belladonna that?

Weiss wouldn’t have shown her ignorance by asking for an explanation in any case, but Rainbow went on, which meant that she had no opportunity to do so in any case. “And even if they didn’t, and even if Lady Belladonna could say something that would help, and I’m not sure what that would be … I’m not sure if it would be a good idea for your mother to announce the fact that she’s here in Vale. With the way things are … I’m afraid that she might be making herself a target.” She looked at Weiss. “I mean, no offence, Weiss, but—”

“I understand,” Weiss said, smiling slightly to show that she understood, even agreed. “My getting on the wrong side of the crowd in the Amity Colosseum is no reason for Blake’s mother to put herself in harm’s way. I’m not worth it. Or at least, my reputation is not.” She paused for a moment. “Cardin, you had a suggestion.”

“I’m not sure now,” Cardin muttered. “I was going to say that maybe … maybe I could try and … maybe if Skystar would listen to me for a few minutes and didn’t just run away or scream or slap me, I could, maybe, ask her to … but it’s like Rainbow Dash said, what would she say? What’s anyone going to say?”

“She could appeal to the values of the Vytal Festival?” Twilight suggested. “I mean, she is the Amity Princess, after all.”

“How much do people really care about the values of the Vytal Festival, as opposed to paying them lip service?” Sunset asked.

“That’s a cynical question,” Twilight muttered.

“That doesn’t make me wrong,” Sunset replied. “The crowd on the stands singing that Mistralian song about thirty years of hurt doesn’t care about cooperation between kingdoms; they just want a trophy to put in their otherwise barren and cobweb-infested cabinet. Anyway, Cardin’s right, I’m not sure what Skystar could say to calm the waters.” She looked at Cardin. “Although it was…” She thrust her hands into her pockets. “It was very brave of you, to even offer to do it.”

“Or stupid,” Cardin muttered. His jaw clenched. “If there is any point in talking to her about it, maybe you should be the one to do it; she seems to still like you.”

“Mmm, well,” Sunset muttered.

“Is there any point in anyone talking to her about it?” Russel asked.

“I…” Weiss trailed off. “I doubt it. I appreciate your efforts to find something that will alleviate my discomfort, but I don’t think that having an authority figure stand up and tell everyone to be nice to me is the way forward.” She fell silent for a moment or more. “I’m not sure that there is a way forward, except to continue as I have done and fight as hard as I can and hope that even if I cannot impress the crowd, there will at least be some of those against whom I fight who will be impressed with my efforts.”

“And … the rest?” Blake asked. “The restoration of the Schnee name, the—”

Weiss laughed. “It might be a little soon after the scandal to take that on, and in the wake of what came out, that was always going to be harder than even I expected. But I’m still young, and the SDC isn’t going anywhere. I have time to work on that and, hopefully, for some of the anger at the Schnee Dust Company to fade. For now, if a record of victories, however unwelcome to the public, is all that I can achieve…” She smiled. “Then there’s nothing too bad in settling for that, is there?”

“The next match, between Jessica Tubal and Lance Gobham of Beacon and Arslan Altan and Bolin Hori of Haven, will commence in ten minutes!” Professor Port announced.

---

Arslan won her match, kicking off Haven's day with a victory — or Mistral's day with a second victory, judging by the way that all of the Haven students had reacted to Pyrrha and Sunset's triumph over Trixie and Starlight — as well as putting an end to Beacon's winning streak. According to Pyrrha, who had watched the match, it was not of Arslan Altan’s best showings, if only because the pair from Team JGLR were not the toughest opponents that she’d ever faced. Still, a victory was a victory, for Arslan and for Haven; it raised the spirits of the Haven students yet higher.

That was followed by Neon Katt — and her partner Flynt Coal — regaining some glory for Atlas after two consecutive defeats, by winning the first match of the day for the northern academy. That turned out to be the beginning of a bad streak for Shade, whose second team to enter the arena was also defeated — by Sun and Neptune, in a second victory for Haven, albeit one that was not, unfortunately, as celebrated by the rest of the student body. No doubt, the love of the crowd was ample compensation for the ambivalent attitude of their fellow huntsmen.

"Does it bother you at all the way that they've taken Sun to their hearts?" Rainbow asked Blake, as the two of them sat in the stands watching Sun and Neptune do a dance that Twilight would have been ashamed of in the middle of the arena, waving their arms in the air and thrusting their chests at one another like … Rainbow wanted to say it was like mating baboons, but she wasn't actually sure that was right. It might be gorillas. Or she might be a hundred percent wrong about it being anything like any apes or monkeys at all. She'd have to ask Fluttershy about it.

"Hey, Fluttershy, what animal is it that thrusts its chest out towards someone else when it wants to mate."

"Um, I think that might be humans, actually."

"Bother me? No," Blake said. "Why should it bother me, isn't that the point? Didn't we just talk to Weiss about how unfortunate it is that people aren't taking her to their hearts?"

"Yeah, but it's the specific way in which they're taking Sun to their hearts that I'm talking about," Rainbow said. She pointed across the arena. "Look, there, there's a girl with a life-sized picture of Sun's abs."

Blake leaned forward. "Really? You have better eyesight than me."

"In the daylight, maybe," Rainbow said. "Trust me, it's there."

"And during the first match, there were boys and girls with their Pyrrha pictures blown up to be as big as their own heads," Blake pointed. "And Sunset pictures, come to that."

"Yeah, and I guarantee you that Jaune doesn't like it," Rainbow said. "He won't say anything about it because he doesn't want to seem like That Guy, but I guarantee, I absolutely guarantee, that he isn't happy that people see his girlfriend that way."

"I'm not sure that Pyrrha likes it very much either," Blake murmured.

"Quit changing the subject," Rainbow insisted. "Does it really not bother you?"

"No," Blake said simply.

Rainbow's eyebrows rose. "No? Not at all?"

"Not at all," Blake repeated. After taking a second, she went on, "And I think you're wrong about Jaune too, by the way. He's not as insecure as you're making him out to be."

"Who said anything about insecurity?"

"What other reason would there be to get upset about that?" Blake asked. "I mean, if Sun didn't like it the way that Pyrrha doesn't like it, that's one thing — they have the right to object to being … commodified, for want of a better word — but me? Jaune?" She took a second before she went on, "If Sun was going to leave me, he would have done it by now. God knows I've given him cause. But he hasn't, so he won't, and so what do I have to worry about from some girl with a placard?" She smirked. "Besides, I can—"

"Stop," Rainbow said, holding up one hand. "Just … stop. Stop now. I know what you're about to say, and I don't want to hear it." She shook her head and ignored Blake's little chuckle.

Rainbow watched Sun's dorky dance with Neptune for a few seconds longer. "You know what I worry about?" she said.

"What?" asked Blake.

"I really hope that Mantle doesn't grind him down," Rainbow said. "Turn him cynical and bitter and a dick like so many other people down there. Or worse."

"That won't happen," Blake said. "Not to Sun. Not ever."

"I hope you're right about that," Rainbow said with a sigh. "I really, really hope you're right."

After the victories won by Sun and Neptune and Neon and Flynt against Shade teams, there was a real danger that Shade Academy might be swept out of the competition completely; however, Umber Gorgoneion and Reap Matthias managed to forestall that outcome by defeating their Beacon opponents to claim the first and only possible Shade victory of the round.

And so, with only two matches remaining, Beacon Academy had claimed two victories, Haven two, and Atlas and Shade only one apiece. If the pairs from teams BALL and VLCA could win their matches, then Haven would achieve a nigh unprecedented four victories from four matches in the second round and have the potential to dominate the one-on-one round the next day. However, if Yang and Nora and Rainbow and Ciel could win their bouts, then Beacon would go into tomorrow leading with three competitors, and Atlas would regain a smidgeon of lost pride by drawing level with Haven in sending two huntsmen each through to the finals.

It was time for Yang and Nora's match.

---

“I’m a little surprised by this, to be honest,” Swift Foot said.

“Surprised by what?” Terri-Belle asked, as she settled down.

“The children of Titus Andronicus competing in this tournament,” Swift Foot replied. “I mean, their family always shunned the arena, unlike … practically any other family of note with any connection to arms or combat. Their father was a famous warrior, and yet, none of the children competed in the ring, in any tournament. It looked like a point of principle.”

“I believe it was a point of principle,” Terri-Belle said. “Certainly, Alexius told me so. His family were huntsmen, not performers; defenders of the people, not entertainers of them.”

“Alexius,” Swift Foot murmured. “Was he—?”

“Yes,” Terri-Belle said quickly. “But before he … before that, we were students at Haven together.”

“One of your teammates?”

“No,” Terri-Belle said. “No, his team, Team Amarylis, had the room across the corridor from us, but for that reason, we were good enough friends … and rivals too.”

Swift Foot frowned. “I know I was only young, but … I have vague memories of the friends that you brought over, but I don’t remember him at all.”

“Yes, well,” Terri-Belle murmured.

The truth was, the unspoken truth that nevertheless she sensed, was that their father had not been particularly fond of the Andronicus family. It sounded absurd, that the Steward of Mistral should be jealous of the most minor of patrician houses, but nevertheless, Terri-Belle believed it to be the case that he had been … envious or afraid or both; the acclaim that old Titus Andronicus had won as a huntsman had troubled him. Threatened him.

He had not been the only one. It was a sad fact of Mistral, an exceedingly sad fact, that when Alexius and twenty of the other sons of Titus had fallen, one after another, falling in battle against the grimm or the brigands who roamed Anima, there had been many in the high halls of the upper slopes who rejoiced at it, and rejoiced all the more when Titus retired to his house in what some called grief and others madness.

So it was with anyone who threatened to grow too tall or burn too bright: it would be devoutly hoped that they would burn out.

I suppose we should be grateful that the days when such people would be ‘encouraged’ to burn out, when the tall stems would have the garden scissors taken to them, are gone and left in the past now.

Even so, it is little wonder that our society is stuck in the mud with such a crab-bucket attitude to greatness.

“In any event,” Terri-Belle said, “he told me that his family did not compete in our Mistralian tournaments because they were a huntsman family. Not a warrior family, certainly not a gladiator family, but a huntsman family, specifically.”

“And yet, here are Lavinia and Lucius Andronicus,” Swift Foot remarked, “fighting in a tournament.”

“A huntsman tournament, specifically,” Terri-Belle pointed out. “It may be that they believe that there is a difference between this — an event specifically for aspiring huntsmen — and other tournaments. Or … it may be that they wish to keep their family name in the public eye, to remind the people that in spite of the losses they have suffered and the condition of their father, the House of Andronicus is not yet vanquished.”

“Or both, I suppose,” Swift Foot said. “They did well yesterday, but then so did their opponents.”

“Did they?” Terri-Belle asked.

“Yes, but you didn’t see that because you only watch the Mistral matches,” Swift Foot said pointedly.

“I didn’t see it because I have work to do,” Terri-Belle replied. “Who are they up against?”

“The last Beacon pair who haven’t fought yet: Yang Xiao Long and Nora Valkyrie of Team Iron,” Swift Foot explained. “They fought against the appropriately named Team Bronze of Shade yesterday and beat them handily. Admittedly, Team Bronze weren’t brilliant, but even so, Team Iron did well against them.”

“Yang Xiao Long?” Terri-Belle murmured. “Her name sounds Mistralian.”

“Unfortunately, if you’re thinking that we could take credit for her somehow, that’s a no-go,” Swift Foot said.

“How do you know?”

“Because I had the same thought,” Swift Foot replied. “That she might be a Mistralian, obviously not from a good family, but a commoner perhaps, who had chosen to go to Beacon instead of Haven. But they’ve got all the competitor biographies available online, and it says that she was born on Patch.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere in Vale,” Swift Foot explained.

“I see,” Terri-Belle muttered. “And yet, that is a Mistralian name.”

“I did some more looking,” Swift Foot said, “and you aren’t the first person to think that, either. Apparently, there is Mistralian ancestry in her family, from back before the Great War.”

“Ah,” Terri-Belle said, understanding. So, the Xiao Longs were a family who had moved out of Mistral before the war, probably because they opposed the policies forced on Mistral by the alliance with Mantle. They were not the only ones, but it would be very difficult to point to them as examples of Mistralian success in that case. “Can’t be helped, I supposed.”

“The girl who’s going to be fighting with her is Mistralian, though,” Swift Foot went on. “Nora Valkyrie.”

“Really? It isn’t as obvious from her name,” Terri-Belle pointed out. “Where does she come from?”

“I’m not sure,” Swift Foot said. “Her biography just says that she’s from Mistral. I think … she might be a child of the wind.”

“Really?” Terri-Belle asked. “That’s … commendable, I suppose, that she has made it to the Vytal Tournament itself, but at the same time, in spite of her accomplishments and the effort it must have taken to attain them … not very useful.”

‘Child of the wind’ was probably the kindest term for what were otherwise called such things as street rats, vagrants, the forsaken. Often, they were the orphaned survivors of grimm attacks; sometimes, their parents didn’t want them. In any case, if they were not found quickly and taken in — and in a land as large as Anima, that did not always happen — then they became wanderers, drifting from place to place, unwanted anywhere. Often … usually, they did not survive very long. If they didn’t starve, then the grimm would get them. That this Nora Valkyrie had both survived and thrived … she must have a great deal of tenacity and a lot of luck.

On the other hand, much as it perhaps should have been otherwise … tenacity and luck was not enough to get you admired in Mistral. No one would cheer for a child of the wind; the prejudice against them — thieves, beggars, bringers of the grimm with their sorrow and negativity, the feral subjects of a hundred horror stories and urban legends, filthy, disgusting — was too great, that what would have been admirable if they had grown up even on the lower slopes became abhorrent in them.

Sad to say, there would be no propaganda success gotten out of Nora Valkyrie, yet nevertheless … Terri-Belle could not say so, but she found herself rooting for the girl anyway, even against the children of a celebrated Mistralian huntsman.

---

“So they’ve got a plan, right?” Ruby asked as she sat down in the stands with Ren, Blake, Pyrrha, and Jaune. Sunset was down below with Amber and Dove — along with Penny, who wasn’t too fussed about watching Yang fight either. Which Ruby felt was a bit of a pity; it would be nice if they could become closer, not least since Penny might even be joining Team YRBN, or YRPN, however that would be pronounced, next year.

But at the same time, someone did need to keep an eye on Amber, and two heads were better than one in that regard, especially since the fairgrounds had really started to get crowded this afternoon.

So, Penny would miss out. Ruby would sure that she would miss something pretty special, but there it was; there wasn’t a lot to be done about it.

Provided that Yang and Nora had a plan.

“Nora has reach, with both the hammer and the grenade launcher,” Ren explained, “and she will use it. If the enemy seek to close the distance, Yang will be there to stop them and protect her. Once Nora’s grenades have softened up the opposition, they will attack, Yang leading and Nora providing support. Close support. Very close support.”

“How close is 'very close'?” Ruby asked.

“I hope Yang can duck low enough to avoid Magnhild,” Ren said.

“Yeah, that is pretty close,” Ruby said quietly. “But, I mean, it sounds like an okay plan, right?”

“A lot depends on how these Andronicus siblings fight,” Blake murmured. “Pyrrha, you know them—”

“I know their family and its reputation,” Pyrrha corrected her, “but if you want details on their weapons and fighting style … that, I’m afraid, I cannot provide.”

“I guess there isn’t a family style that they all adhere to,” Jaune said.

Pyrrha shook her head. “There isn’t really any such thing. There are various schools of the martial art, and families will often adhere to one of them, but there is no specific way of fighting that is the property of the Nikos family or the Andronicus family. My mother was a dual wielder, but I fight with a shield.”

“You didn’t want to follow in your mother’s footsteps?” asked Jaune.

“My teacher, Chiron, did not hold with dual wielding,” Pyrrha said, shaking her head. “He called it a foolish vanity.”

“So what we should be asking is 'who trained Lavinia and Lucius Andronicus?'” Ren said.

“Perhaps, yes,” Pyrrha replied. “Unfortunately, I don’t know the answer to that either. But, as huntsman and huntress who have never felt the need to so much as dabble in the arena, they may be free from the … they may not cleave to history as much as many other Mistralian warriors do. They may be more technologically advanced than you might expect from a Haven student. I do not necessarily say they will, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it turned out to be the case.”

“Less swords and shields, more guns?” Ruby guessed.

“Exactly,” Pyrrha said. “Firearms are often seen as a rather gauche weapon for the arena; the crowd much prefer melee weapons — which are safer, in any case, for the aforementioned crowd — and for the battles to be resolved at close quarters. And on top of that … our heritage is one of fighting with sword and spear and shield, the way our ancestors won undying glory.”

“Neptune uses a gun,” Blake pointed out.

“Neptune’s family are great swimming champions, but they have no martial pedigree,” Pyrrha replied. “They have no stake in Mistral’s old traditions that they should seek to uphold them. That is not the case for most, who are either born into such traditions or seek to ape them in order to be accepted as part of the elite.”

“And that’s why Miló’s rifle mode is its weakest,” Ruby said.

“I would not call my rifle weak,” Pyrrha said, sounding a little bit … kind of offended, but not as bad as that sounded, but something like it. “But, yes, I don’t deny that my spear and sword are my primary weapons. My point is that, if anyone from Haven were to break with that trend, I would expect it to be the scions of Andronicus, who have little care for such shows but seek only to vanquish the grimm and defend the people. I just hope Yang and Nora are prepared for an enemy who may shoot back.”

---

In the tunnel beneath the stands, Yang grinned at Nora.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Oh yeah, you bet!” Nora declared. “Let’s kick some Mistral ass!”

Yang frowned. “Aren’t you from Mistral?”

Nora blinked. “Well, yeah, I guess,” she said. “But I’m an equal-opportunity ass-kicker.”

Yang laughed. “Well, if you’re so comfortable with dishing it out to everyone and everything, maybe I should send you into the one-on-one round.”

“Nah, you’re good,” Nora said. “I love this hammer of mine, but it’s kind of clumsy to swing it around sometimes.”

"Well, if you insist," Yang said. "We should probably get out there before the crowd starts to get impatient."

Nora held out her hand, fingers slightly curled, as though she wanted to do some impromptu arm-wrestling before the match began.

Yang grinned and slammed her palm into Nora's hand, the two girls' fingers closing around one another's hands.

"Let's do this!" they chorused, before they both turned towards the tunnel mouth and walked out of the shadow and into the light.

Their opponents, Lavinia and Lucius Andronicus of Team BALL, were likewise leaving their own tunnel on the other side of the arena, sparing Yang and Nora from having to wait for them, and the two pairs crossed the plain metallic surface almost simultaneously, coming to a standstill in the central hexagon, while the cheers of the crowd blew on them like wind from all directions, the cheers for Yang and Nora mingling with the cheering for the Andronicus siblings until it was impossible to tell who was supporting who, unless you could catch a whiff of that Mistralian song floating above the general hubbub.

Lucius Andronicus had a short fur hat on his head that was only a few inches high, even if it did cover most of his dark hair, so that you could only tell that it was dark because of the bits that came down around his ears. He had a round face with a heavy brow overhanging his golden eyes. He wore a red cloak, fastened around the neck with a gold clasp shaped like a fox's head, over a white t-shirt that left his arms bare, displaying the tattoos that he had on both his arms: on his right arm, a spear wreathed in flames that swirled and danced around it, with the tip pointing downwards towards his hand; while on the left arm, what looked like waves, dancing waves of dark blue and sea green rippling up and down as they travelled down his arm, and amongst the waves were written names in black ink, a lot names, twenty-one names, maybe. Yang couldn't read the names, but the number of them suggested what they were. And all of this in addition to the snarling beowolf's head tattooed on his right cheek. His pants were the brown of wood, and his boots were black and rugged looking. In his hands, he held a pair of … Yang wasn't entirely sure what they were; they looked a little bit like large candles; were they flamethrowers then? Or maybe nunchucks? Or both?

Or just red batons that he'll try and hit me with, Yang thought. I guess I'll find out soon enough.

He wasn't wearing an honour band, Yang noticed, which probably wasn't something that she would have noticed a year ago, but she had spent enough time around Mistralians to notice it now. Admittedly, it wasn't something that they all had — Pyrrha's friend Arslan didn't have one, but Yang was fairly certain that was because she was common as muck and had never had a fancy master to give her one — but Yang would have expected someone from a well-known family to have one. It didn't matter, but at the same time, Yang couldn't help but wonder why he didn't.

Lavinia was a little taller than her brother, with honey blond hair falling loosely down behind her shoulders; her eyes were golden, like her brother's, and her face was … well, it was a pretty face, no doubt about that, and it remained so in spite of the fact that, like Ruby's friend Amber, there were scars on both cheeks that were still just about visible despite the make-up she was wearing to conceal them. She, too, wore a cloak, and although her cloak was forest green, it fastened with a fox-head clasp just like her brother's; Yang guessed it was a family symbol. She wore a sunshine yellow t-shirt with red detailing on the sleeves and waistline, and a red skirt over green trousers and high brown riding boots. She didn't have any visible weapons on her, at least none that Yang could see.

Her arms were both prosthetic, below the elbow on the left but past it higher towards the shoulder on the right. The metal was plain to see, undisguised except for the white bandage strips wrapped around her hand like a boxer might wrap around their knuckles before putting on their gloves, but it was painted in patches, strips of burning red and yellow on the right, softer green and brown upon the left. Unlike her brother, Lavinia was wearing an honour band: a golden armband above her left elbow, with what looked like a decoration of beowolves marching in a ring around it.

Lavinia smiled and began to sign out words, her fingers moving deftly to form shape after shape. It's a pleasure to meet you both. Win or lose, I hope this will be a fight to remember.

Yang smiled back and signed back too, holding up both hands as she formed the words; her movements weren't quite as swift or deft as Lavinia's, but she thought that she was able to make her meaning plain. I certainly plan on winning, but I also hope to make this one for the books.

The smile remained on Lavinia's face as she signed, I'm mute, not deaf, so you can speak to me, if you'd rather.

I'm fine with this, Yang signed back. Unless that was a polite way of telling me that I'm mangling the words.

Lavinia's smile broadened as she shook her head. Not at all; you're actually doing quite well for someone out of practice.

Who says I'm out of practice?

Your hesitation does.

"Wait a second," Nora said. "Yang, you know sign language?"

"Yeah," Yang said. "I learned it at Signal."

"Why?" asked Nora.

"In case I ever needed to communicate with a deaf or mute person," Yang replied. "Not everyone in danger from the grimm is gonna be able to talk or hear, right?"

"That … makes a lot of sense," Nora acknowledged. "Beacon should offer classes in that!"

"I'll wager that a lot of your fellow students didn't make as much effort as you," Lucius muttered.

“I made an effort,” Yang said, signing it out as she said it.

A chiming sound alerted all four students to the fact that the terrain indicators had just flashed up on the edges of the battlefield and were, even now, cycling through the various options available.

“Yang Xiao Long and Nora Valkyrie of Beacon!” Professor Port announced, as parts of the crowd roared in approval.

Have you noticed that they always announced Beacon first? Lavinia signed.

We are the host school; that has to count for something, Yang signed back. She rolled her shoulders, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet as Nora pulled her hammer across her shoulders.

“Lavinia Andronicus and Lucius Andronicus of Haven!” Professor Port cried, and this time, the roar came from the other parts of the stands.

Lucius raised those whatever-they-were in his hands, so that they were practically level with his face. Flames leapt from the tips of them, making the resemblance to candles even more uncanny but making Yang increasingly certain that they were flamethrowers, with dust canisters concealed within.

Lavinia still gave no sign of any weapon; she just raised her arms into a boxing stance, and like Yang, she got onto her toes and the balls of her feet, swaying in place a little in anticipation.

Yang grinned as she pumped her fists, opening up Ember Celica to reveal the guns concealed within.

Lavinia nodded in approval.

The wheels of the terrain randomisers came to a halt, and all around the four, the surface of the arena disappeared, and four biomes arose to take their place. Behind Lavinia and Lucius rose the savannah and ruin biomes; behind Yang and Nora, the desert and the mountain.

Okay, there’s stuff we can work with here.

Stuff that they can work with too, probably, but we can … work around that.

Once we start our barrage they’ll probably make for the ruins — there’s more cover there than in the savannah — but I bet Nora can knock those buildings down, and then won’t that be fun?

The plan is sound; stick with the plan.

“Three!” Doctor Oobleck yelled.

Lucius twirled his candle-like flamethrowers in his hands.

“Two!” Professor Port’s voice boomed out.

Nora whirled Magnhild above her head, as though it was a competition.

“One!” Doctor Oobleck cried. “Begin!”

Yang stepped forward, sidling closer to Nora as she opened fire with her Ember Celica, fists pumping like she was shadow boxing, each punch causing a booming shot to erupt from one of her vambraces.

She fired at both the siblings, taking intermittent shots first at Lavinia, then at Lucius, then at Lavinia again, but just as Yang had done, Lavinia stepped between her partner and harm. As she did so, she raised her left arm, with its green and brown colour scheme, so that her palm was level with her face and her knuckles were facing outward, and as she did so, a ring of lights upon the back of her hand began to glow pale blue, before a hard-light shield emerged in front of her, on which Yang’s shots struck harmlessly.

The Andronicus siblings began to back away, in the direction of the ruins just as Yang had predicted, with Lavinia using her shield to, well, shield Lucius from Yang’s shots, as they hit the barrier with no effect that Yang could make out.

Pretty advanced tech for a Mistralian, Yang thought.

But let’s see how much it can really take. “Let ‘em have it, Nora!”

Nora had switched Magnhild into its grenade launcher form, and she cackled wordlessly as she raised the gaping barrel into the air and fired.

The grenade flew over Yang’s head, tracing a pink trail through the air as it rose, and then began to fall down onto the Andronicus siblings.

Lavinia took a step back, raising her right arm, the one painted in fiery reds and yellows. A compartment just behind her wrist opened up, and two squat barrels rose up into view. There was a loud bang, a flash from the muzzles, and Nora’s grenade exploded in mid-air.

Nora growled and fired again, and again, and again, grenade after grenade erupting out of Magnhild, flying over Yang’s head as Yang opened fire, Ember Celica blazing so brightly that she could barely see.

But what she could see was … not great. Lavinia half-crouched down, taking cover behind her hard-light barrier, which would have been great if there was any sign that the barrier was going to drop, either because she was taking too much damage or because her dust was going to run out, but Yang couldn’t see any such sign. She was pinned down, maybe, but none of Yang’s shots were getting through, and her right arm reached out from cover again and again to shoot Nora’s grenades down in the air before they landed. The air above the battlefield was filled with more pink smoke than a gender reveal party, and the only thing it was doing was probably making it harder for all the spectators to actually see the fight.

Nora stopped firing.

“Are you out?” Yang called.

“Not quite,” Nora replied. “But I might need the dust for the hammer.” She didn’t mention that the grenades were so clearly not working as to make it pointless to keep on firing.

She didn’t have to; Yang had eyes.

Yang had almost exhausted her first row of dust phials, so she ejected them, sending them clattering to the floor around her feet, and then reloaded by the simple means of pumping her arms very hard, causing the second row of dust phials to move to the front and chamber.

Now, she wouldn’t run out suddenly when they got into close quarters.

She took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she muttered. “Let’s do this.”

She charged forward, and Nora followed behind her with a bellowing warcry on her lips. They attacked with Yang in front and Nora behind, the smaller girl hidden behind Yang except for her giant hammer. Yang took the lead, firing with Ember Celica as she went, not blazing away but letting out a shot here, another there, keeping the pressure on, forcing Lavinia to keep her shield up.

The Andronicus siblings scuttled back towards the edge of the ruins, where they took cover behind a low stone wall. Now, it was Lucius’ turn to take the lead, turning to make a stand behind the wall, while Lavinia retreated further in, towards the shattered shell of a house that dominated the biome.

Yang quickened her pace as Lucius levelled one of his weapons in her direction, and a cone of fire erupted out of it.

Yep, it was a flamethrower alright.

The fire rippled over her; Yang could feel the heat, feel her aura beginning to give way before the fire that consumed it, but she could also feel her semblance activating, feel herself getting stronger and faster as she pressed on through the fire. She leapt through the flames, fists flying, shots firing from Ember Celica to hit Lucius square in the chest and knock him backwards onto the rubble. He rolled to his feet quickly and was ready for Yang as she leaped over the wall and threw a punch.

He blocked it, turning her fist aside with one arm so that punch and shot both failed to connect. Then he hit Yang across the face with his other flamethrower, which was quite sturdy enough that it could serve as a baton too.

Yang’s head snapped sideways as she felt both the impact of the blow and the flame as it scraped across her cheek.

And she felt herself get stronger because of it.

Yang’s eyes did not go red, but her hair was a pale, blazing yellow as she looked back at Lucius with a savage grin on her face.

She fancied that his own face palled a little before she hit him.

Her first punch came downwards, driving him to his knees. Her second was an uppercut to the chin that sent him flying upwards.

He just missed Nora as she jumped over Yang’s head, back arched and Magnhild raised above her, flying towards Lavinia to bring her hammer down upon her head.

Lavinia braced, crossing her arms over her face, her hard-light barrier still projected in front of her.

Magnhild descended with a force that seemed inevitable, shattering the barrier like glass, hitting Lavinia’s crossed arms with a sound like a gong being rung that echoed out from the two of them, a shockwave that rustled through Yang’s golden locks and stirred up the dust that lay on top of the rubble in the biome.

Lavinia’s knees bent, she dropped a little bit closer to the ground, but she stayed on her feet, and though her arms trembled just a bit, that was … a lot less than happened to most people when Nora hit them with her hammer.

Does she have a shock-absorbing semblance, like Flash?

“Incredible!” Doctor Oobleck cried. “And this isn’t even Lavinia’s semblance!”

That’s me told, then.

Nora’s eyes widened as she began to drop towards the ground.

Lavinia smirked as she spun on one toe and kicked Nora in the gut hard enough to send her flying backwards, backwards straight into Yang, and hard enough to carry both of them backwards, out of the ruins and into the central hexagon, where they skidded across the grey surface before coming to a stop in a tangled heap.

Nora groaned. “Ugh. Are her legs robotic too?”

“Nah, I think she’s just doing that focus aura thing that Rainbow Dash does,” Yang muttered.

“If she was doing that, then I’d have broken her aura at the arms,” Nora countered as she rolled off Yang and got to her feet. She shook her head. “I think we might need a new plan.”

Yang got to her own feet in turn. “I think you might be right,” she muttered. “We need to—”

She was interrupted by a growl of thunder. Not a thunderous gunshot, but real thunder … well, real fake thunder, anyway; through some really smart means, the arena could create a fake thunderstorm on top of the mountain the same way that they could create a fake sun above the desert.

A fake thunderstorm complete with lightning.

Yang pointed to the mountaintop, with the storm raging around it. “You need to get up there,” she said.

Nora grinned. “Got it!” Her smile faltered a little. “But what about you?”

Yang shrugged. “You know, I’ll hold them off.” She gestured to the ruins, where Lavinia was helping her brother to his feet. The two of them now had their sights set once more on Yang and Nora.

“You sure about that?” Nora asked. “She kicks really hard.”

“Sure she does, but I’ll make do,” Yang replied. “Come on, it’s me.” She winked.

“Okay,” Nora said, in a voice that was not as full of confidence as Yang would have liked, but at least wasn’t despairing either. “On three?”

“On one,” Yang said. “One! Go!”

Where Yang had led the way in their assault, now, she brought up the rear in their retreat; as Nora ran for the mountain, her legs pounding, Yang hung back, blocking Nora from attack or from sight, running backwards towards the mountain biome.

The Andronicus siblings pursued, with Lavinia in the lead and Lucius following. Lavinia’s shield was down — probably, she couldn’t reactivate it after it had been broken — but she kept her right hand raised, guns blazing. Yang danced as the bullets flew around her, her feet leaping from here to there, trying to dodge without exposing Nora to any fire.

She wasn’t entirely successful — at the dodging part; she covered Nora just fine, but she took a couple of hits, taking her aura down into the yellow. Luckily Lavinia’s gun wasn’t a large enough calibre to knock her off her feet or anything; it staggered Yang backwards, but she was still going in the right way to protect Nora.

The mountain dominated the mountain biome obviously, but while the mountain was surrounded by grass, the ground around was also littered with rocks, smaller than the mountain, of course, but still pretty big.

Big enough.

Yang ignored the bullets nipping at her aura — what didn’t kill you, after all — as she bent down and dug her fingertips into the base of the rock where it met the ground.

She grunted with effort as she heaved. The rock resisted, then it shifted, then all of a sudden, it gave way as Yang wrenched the boulder free out of the ground and with a wordless shout threw it at Lavinia.

Lavinia threw up her arms to protect herself, the boulder shattering on impact, throwing up dust and shards of rock in all directions.

Blinding both the Andronicus siblings for a few crucial moments as Yang flew through the dust cloud to fall on Lavinia.

Lavinia blocked her first punch, just the same way that Lucius had done, turning her hand away so she didn’t get hit and Yang’s shot went wide. Yang kicked her in the leg, which didn’t cut her legs from under but did shake her posture just enough for Yang’s gut punch to land. Lavinia exhaled as she bent double.

Flames leapt from Lucius' wands, roaring across the distance towards Yang, who fell back before them. What didn't kill her might make her stronger, but too much of such strengthening would put her aura into the red. So Yang leapt back, away from the flames that licked out at her like the angry tongue of a hungry grimm.

Lavinia burst through the flames, the red fire dying around her as she threw herself at Yang, fists flying. She snapped out one punch, then another, then a spinning kick, and still, Yang fell back. The second-hand experience of Lavinia's kick had been quite enough.

Lavinia threw another punch. Yang dodged it, weaving deftly to the right, her whole body swaying aside, before she threw a punch of her own with her left hand. Lavinia leaned backwards, back arching, as fist and shot flew harmlessly over her head.

Yang pulled her hand before Lavinia could try and grab it. She spotted Lucius running towards the mountain that Nora was, even now, climbing up towards the storm-wracked peak.

Nope.

Yang retreated back a couple of steps away from Lavinia, and as Lavinia pursued her, Yang leapt up, firing Ember Celica down at the ground beneath her feet, launching herself up, up into the air, over Lavinia's head — and over Lucius too — to land just behind Nora on the lowest slopes of the mountain.

Yang launched herself off this vantage point like a missile, firing Ember Celica behind her for more thrust as she blasted straight at Lucius. She was moving so fast that she barely felt the flames that burst from both his candles; she simply didn't spend enough time within the cones of fire to lose much aura, and his flames certainly weren't strong enough to slow her down. She barrelled through the fire before colliding with him, doing more damage to his aura than to hers as she knocked him clean off his feet and onto the grass as he skidded backwards with her on top of him.

He head-butted her, his head jerking up to collide with her nose and snap her own head back and upwards.

Yang gave it right back at him, and again.

She was about to grab him by the neck — with the intention of hopefully tossing him clean out of the arena — when she felt a pair of cold metallic arms wrapping around her torso, pinning Yang's arms in place as she was bodily pulled off Lucius like a squalling, brawling child restrained by the teacher.

Yang threw her head backwards, and even through her mass of hair, she felt herself hit something, but she might as well have missed for all the good it did in terms of getting herself out of here.

Lucius leapt up off the ground before Yang's lashing feet caught him square in the chest and sent him reeling backwards.

He got up again and aimed both his flamethrowers at Yang. He was willing to burn through Lavinia's aura in order to take her out.

While he was doing that, he wasn't stopping Nora reaching the top of the mountain, but that didn't mean that Yang was just going to hang there and take it.

She thrust her head back again, with all the strength that she could muster, colliding with something with a crunch, even as she kicked backwards with both her legs, flailing with them in the hopes of hitting something.

She writhed and wriggled in Lavinia's vice-like grip.

The flames spurted out of the tips of Lucius' red batons.

A grenade, trailing a pink cloud after it like a comet through the sky, fell down from the mountain to explode at Lucius' feet, blasting him up and sideways, sending him pinwheeling through the air, head over heels.

Nora had not quite gained the top of the mountain, but she stood a little bit below the summit, giving Yang an informal salute with one hand.

"I'd salute back if I had my hands free!" Yang yelled up at her. "So you'll have to settle for a 'thank you'!"

Lavinia threw Yang aside, where she bounced along the grass until she hit a rock near the base of the mountain. Lavinia leapt up, trying to follow Nora up the mountain in spite of her head start, but Yang leapt after her, using the blasts of Ember Celica to propel her faster than Lavinia's legs alone could carry her. The two of them collided in mid-air, grappling with one another as they fell to land in the desert sands.

They rolled away from each other, each having sand in their hair as they scrambled upright.

A quick glance at her aura level confirmed what Yang felt: her aura couldn't take much more of this.

A triumphant cry from behind confirmed that Nora had reached the top of the mountain.

"I HAVE THE POWER!" Nora yelled, and as the thunder rolled, Yang wished that she dared turn her back on Lavinia long enough to see it.

But, while she might not have been turned around to look at Nora, she could see the shadow passing overhead as Nora flew over her, descending on Lavinia Andronicus with hammer raised overhead for the second time.

A second time that was different in a few crucial respects.

Lavinia, her eyes wide, seemed to realise that she wasn't going to be able to tank this hit the way she had the last. She was frantically backing away as Nora fell.

Nora landed hard upon the ground, between Lavinia and Yang. A shockwave rippled out from her approach, spraying sand on both the other two huntresses.

Lavinia, having avoided the direct assault, went on the attack, one fist drawn back. She threw a punch with her right hand.

Nora caught it, one-handed, her pink fingerless glove squeaking a little as she closed her hand around Lavinia's fist.

Nora grinned and cackled through her clenched teeth as she hefted Magnhild in one hand and brought it down upon Lavinia's head.

The blow smacked Lavinia down, face first, into the desert sand, driving her into the sand, her face buried in it, her hair splayed out around her.

A klaxon sounded.

"Lavinia Andronicus' aura has been depleted!" Professor Port announced as sounds of exultation and dismay leapt from the throats of those watching. "She has been eliminated.

Nora let go of Lavinia's hand, which flopped down onto the ground beside her.

Yang bent down and rolled the Mistralian huntress over, so that she was looking up at the sky — and at them. So you can breathe, she signed.

Lavinia's fingers twitched, but she didn't reply.

Yang turned away from her; after all, the battle wasn't finished yet.

Lucius was charging towards them, zig-zagging to try and avoid fire. It was a forlorn gesture in a lot of ways — he didn't have enough aura left to take on Nora even if he did get close to her — but she admired the fact that he wasn't just waiting around to lose but determined to go out swinging.

That didn't stop her from trying to shoot him, fire spouting from the barrels of her Ember Celica as rounds flew across the battlefield. Lucius zigged this way and zagged that, Yang's fire flying past him on either side.

He got closer and closer.

Nora strode forwards.

Lucius crossed into the desert biome.

Nora swung her hammer. Lucius ducked underneath it, turning on one toe, almost twirling around Nora, not moving to attack her at all. It was Yang that he wanted to take down, even if he went down himself after.

Flames trailed from his candle-like weapons as he swung them in a wide arc towards her.

Yang hurled herself forwards, with one hand reaching out to grab his arms, with the other taking the last shot that she might get before his flames engulfed her.

She hit him on the shoulder, spinning him around and, more importantly, taking his aura into the red.

"Lucius Andronicus' aura has been depleted!" Doctor Oobleck declared. "Yang Xiao Long and Nora Valkyrie win the match!"

"YEAH!" Yang yelled, raising her arms into the air as the crowd cheered her on, acclaim falling on her from all sides, everybody cheering.

How can Pyrrha just give this up? Yang wondered as she stood with her arms held up in the air, acknowledging the applause, the cheering, the appreciation, the love. How has she not gotten so hooked on this that she can't get enough of it? Was she really that strong, or did she simply not get how incredible this was?

Because it was incredible. All of this … all of this feeling, and all for her. In this place, at this moment, with all this noise ringing in her ears, it didn't matter about Professor Ozpin, it didn't matter that nobody rated her, that nobody wanted her, that she was only invited to join Ruby's secret club at the last moment, that nobody told her any secrets. None of that mattered because, right now, these people loved her, and right now, they were the universe.

"YEAH!" Yang shouted again, laughing for joy as the crowd filled her up with their acclaim.

She turned to Nora and lowered her arms a little, a triumphal gesture turning into the offer of a hug.

It was an offer that Nora accepted eagerly, leaping into Yang's embrace while treating her to a bone-crushing bear hug in return.

"They really love us, don't they?" Nora asked.

"Yeah," Yang said, rubbing her back. "Yeah, I think they really do."

As she let Nora down, Yang noticed Lavinia Andronicus rising unsteadily to her feet.

Despite the circumstances, she had a smile on her face.

Congratulations, she signed. That was a lot of fun.

Author's Note:

There will be no new chapter out on Friday as I am away, the next chapter will be out on Monday 25th September

Comments

[Stet709]

Looks like Yang nearly met her match with Lavinia, both brawlers with guns on their arms.

And that's another victory for Beacon.
We'll see who gets the next win, Atlas or Haven, (though given it's Rainbow and Ciel, I'm betting Atlas)

[Mastermind4892]

Glad to see Yang’s classic positive and upbeat aside again, right in the heat of her element!

Also, Nora Valkyrie crying out to the heavens "I HAVE THE POWER!" is the best thing ever!

[Kiue Jin]

It's going to be so sad when this Festival goes to shit.

[Stet709]

11698752
I'm just glad it's lasting longer than the original. I mean, we got second round doubles fights this time around!