• Published 31st Aug 2018
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SAPR - Scipio Smith



Sunset, Jaune, Pyrrha and Ruby are Team SAPR, and together they fight to defeat the malice of Salem, uncover the truth about Ruby's past and fill the emptiness within their souls.

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Cause We've Seen You Give In (New)

'Cause We’ve Seen You Give In

Terri-Belle looked up at the sound of the approaching footsteps. It was about enough time for a bout to have finished, so she expected it to be Swift Foot, back again.

It was Swift Foot, back again; there was still a frown on her face, or perhaps it had come back on her way back to Terri-Belle’s office.

“It is over, then?” Terri-Belle asked, when Swift Foot didn’t speak.

Swift Foot nodded mutely.

“Who won?” Terri-Belle asked.

“Pyrrha,” Swift Foot replied softly.

Now it was Terri-Belle’s turn to nod. “I see,” she murmured. “Not unexpected, I suppose. Unfortunate for Arslan Altan, but still … not unexpected. Was it a good fight? A close fight?”

“That’s not the same thing,” Swift Foot replied. “It was a good fight, definitely, or at least I thought so. Was it a close fight? Yes, and no.”

“'Yes and no'?” Terri-Belle repeated.

“I never felt like Pyrrha was in danger of losing, but at the same time, it didn’t feel like she was dominating the match either,” Swift Foot explained. “They’re both so evenly matched — against one another, at least.”

“That’s the issue with fighting the same person repeatedly,” Terri-Belle said. “You get to know all their tricks, so it clouds over any genuine skill difference.”

“They both had a new trick,” Swift Foot said. “But Pyrrha’s was a little more successful than Arslan’s.”

“What did Arslan do?”

“She threw all her fire dust beads up into the air at once, setting them off so that they fell down in a kind of barrage,” Swift Foot said. “She was hoping to catch Pyrrha in the explosions — which she did — but also to disorient her, which she didn’t. Pyrrha was waiting for her as she came through the fire. It was … hard to see, because the fire from the explosions was obscuring the view for the cameras, but it was like the damage to her aura wasn’t fazing her at all; it was really cool.”

“More like she wasn’t allowing the damage to her aura to faze her at all,” Terri-Belle replied. “Although that is impressive in its own right. And Pyrrha’s new trick?”

“An aura attack, channelled through her shield,” Swift Foot said. She mimed holding onto a shield with both hands, stepping into the room so that she had space to twirl in place like she was throwing a discus. “She whirled her shield around, and there was this ribbon of aura — ribbon of energy that came from her aura, anyway — that flew out and hit Arslan in the stomach. She wasn’t expecting it. It was what Pyrrha needed to open her up. Then she threw her shield at Arslan to do even more damage.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t use her sword,” Terri-Belle muttered.

“She didn’t have it with her at the time,” Swift Foot said. She paused for a second. “So … that’s it. Pyrrha won the fight.”

“With her aura attack?”

“No, it was after that,” Swift Foot said. “They both fought well, but Pyrrha came out on top.” Again, she fell silent for a moment. “Do you … do you really believe that … that she is … that Pyrrha has—?”

“Betrayed the kingdom?” Terri-Belle asked. “Betrayed us?”

Swift Foot licked her lips. “Yes,” she said quietly.

Now it was Terri-Belle’s turn to take pause, leaning back a little in her chair, clasping her hands together on top of her desk. “Do I believe it? I don’t know. All I know is, as I have told you, that Father fears it, and I … I fear it too. I fear it because I trust in our father, because I believe in the wisdom of his years, and because what he is suggesting … accusations first against Pyrrha herself, then against her lackey, a fight that results in both combatants leaving alive—”

“Another fight that results in one of them getting captured,” Swift Foot pointed out.

“Captured is not dead,” Terri-Belle said. “Cinder Fall lives to fight another day, and even if she does not … what if she were a necessary sacrifice? And Phoebe Kommenos is dead. And … we cannot be blind to the possibility; we cannot say that a Nikos would never do such a thing, that merely to be born to that name is a guarantee of honour and virtue … those days are gone, if they ever lived at all.”

“'If'?” Swift Foot asked. “'If they' … those days made this kingdom what it is, made Mistral great.”

“Perhaps.”

“What 'perhaps' is there about it?” Swift Foot demanded. “You sound like you’re about to go out and graffiti a statue.”

Terri-Belle cringed. “Don’t talk such nonsense,” she said, but in a soft tone, with no harshness in her voice. “I … slavery, poisoning of rivals, the humbling of the great, envy run rampant with violent consequences … were the days of Mistral’s glory really so glorious?”

“Would we not see that glory renewed?” asked Swift Foot. “If not, then what? What are we seeking, if not to return to the days of our glory, when Mistral might hold its head up high amongst all kings and sneer at the barbarians that surrounded us?”

“Some emperors and lords felt quite benignly towards those barbarians,” Terri-Belle pointed out. “The northern ones, anyway.”

“My point stands,” Swift Foot said. “If not that, then—”

“A partial return,” Terri-Belle said. “A synthesis of what was great once with what may be better.”

“Now you sound like Lord Rutulus.”

Terri-Belle snorted. “He may be an arrogant little twat, but that doesn’t mean that nothing he ever says makes sense.” She blinked. “To get back on the subject, we cannot dismiss the very idea that Pyrrha may have betrayed us simply because she is the Champion, or because her name is Nikos, or because she has another half a dozen names bestowed on her by the adoring public. The fact that she has been called the Evenstar does not make her virtuous.”

Swift Foot looked down at her sandal-clad feet, brushing her long, wavy hair out of the way so that it didn’t hide her face.

“If,” she began. “If what you say is true, and I don’t say that it is, but … if it is, if Pyrrha … if she is what Father fears and you fear—”

“Which may not be true,” Terri-Belle felt obliged to concede, for her sisters’ sake.

“But if it is,” Swift Foot went on. “If it is, then … what do we do? What can we do? She … this will destroy the people.”

“I hope the people will prove a little more resilient than that,” Terri-Belle said.

“You know what I mean,” Swift Foot said, looking up as she took another step closer to Terri-Belle’s desk. “They love her in the streets.”

“Many do; not all, perhaps,” Terri-Belle replied.

“'Not all'?” repeated Swift Foot. She made an almost-laughing sound. “Can you find me someone in the streets who doesn’t love Pyrrha Nikos?”

“I’m sure I could if I looked hard enough.”

“That’ll do a lot of good once Pyrrha turns on Mistral and the people who once cheered her name despair,” Swift Foot said.

“There is a worse possibility,” Terri-Belle said quietly.

Swift Foot frowned. “Worse?”

“That the people who cheered her name cheer on her cause, because it is hers,” Terri-Belle said. “And carry her upon their shoulders to—”

“To where?” Swift Foot asked. “The throne? Would that be so terrible? It belonged to her family.”

“Once.”

“Once, and perhaps again,” Swift Foot said. “I’m just saying that a Nikos restoration would not be what I would call treason against Mistral. Father might not like it, you might not like it, but it would not spell doom and dire consequence for the kingdom.”

Terri-Belle sucked in her lips and considered her reply. Instinctively, she didn’t like the idea; she respected Pyrrha’s skill at arms, she acknowledged that Pyrrha was her superior in that, but … to make her Empress? To bow to her and swear obeisance? The very notion of it stuck in her craw. She was a Thrax, as Swift Foot was; her ancestors had been kings once, in Thrace to the southeast. Twice had the Thracian kings took off their crowns, descended from their thrones, and knelt to the claimant of the House of Nikos, and it was fair to say that they had been rewarded for it with titles, honours, dignities.

They had also paid for their service to the throne with blood, giving their lives in service to the Nikos emperors, sometimes in consequence of the follies of those same emperors. The Emperor Odysseus had given the command to colonise eastern Sanus for Mistral, but it had been Tarpeia Thrax who had sailed across the sea, who had fought like a lion against the barbarian clans, against the silver demons who championed them, giving her life to save the young Prince Pyrrhus from their savagery. And it had been a Thrax, not a Nikos, who had saved Mistral from the tyranny of Ares Claudandus and his thugs and had negotiated a peaceful settlement to the faunus problem.

The House of Nikos had had its time, it had ruled for centuries, and in those centuries, Mistral had grown past its prime, weaker and less regarded; by the time of the Great War, they had been dictated to by Mantle and had had to lie to escape the edicts of the North. Now was the time of the House of Thrax, the time for them to see what they might do, if given the opportunity. Had they not earned that chance? Had they not earned the time to make things right in Mistral?

She did not want to bow her head to Pyrrha Nikos.

But, as much as she disliked the idea, she had to concede Swift Foot’s point, that when you spoke of treason … technically, it was treason, but at the same time … it was one thing to think that you might do a better job at being in charge than the person who was currently running the show; it was quite another to plan to destroy the city, to consort with grimm worshippers and White Fang, to unleash grimm upon the populace.

There were orders of magnitude between the two, and the public that might gasp in horror at the second might well shrug at the first.

Terri-Belle supposed they had the right to shrug. After all, they were only talking of the reversion to the historical norm, to the customs of the ancestors, they were only speaking of an end to the novel experiment foisted on them by the Last King of Vale; and, historically speaking, it could not be denied that Mistral had endured many good times under the rule of the House of Nikos.

“Maybe so,” Terri-Belle admitted, testily, and with more than a touch of ill grace. “But look at her cohorts, if these rumours are true: the White Fang, grimm cultists, terrorists, and madmen; do those sound like the allies of someone with Mistral’s best interests at heart?”

“No,” Swift Foot admitted. “So, I say again, this will devastate the people.”

Terri-Belle took a deep breath. “I confess that troubles me less than her physical prowess.”

“If the mood of the city draws in the grimm, that will be harder to handle than even the greatest warrior, no?” asked Swift Foot.

“Perhaps, unless … unless the people can be made to…” Terri-Belle hesitated. Such a thing was easier said than done at the best of times. And besides, if Pyrrha were innocent, then to slander her… “We must all be prepared to stand together, as a family,” she said. “We must all be prepared to play our parts, for the good of Mistral, and our father.”

An uncertain look remained on Swift Foot’s face, even as her back straightened. “You know that I’m … I wanted to be ready,” she said. “I wanted you to think that I was ready. Although I didn’t think that ready would mean … this.”

“Service to Mistral is not always as glamorous as we would like,” Terri-Belle muttered. “We must find out the truth of these allegations, what Pyrrha is planning.”

“If she’s planning anything,” Swift Foot pointed out.

“Yes, yes, indeed,” Terri-Belle allowed. “If there is anything to discover; or, indeed, to discover the absence of anything.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Swift Foot said. “But … how?”


“Hwa!” Diana cried, swishing her toy Akoúo̱ through the air just like Pyrrha had with her new move. “So cool!”

“So cool,” echoed Selene.


“What was that thing?” asked River.

Kendal turned her head to look at her. “What was what thing?”

“You know the thing,” River said. “The thing!” she repeated, gesturing to the TV. “The thing with her shield, and the—”

“That was her aura,” Dad said.

“Her aura?” Sky repeated. “You mean the thing that … that Jaune unlocked for me? I thought that was a shield?”

“Aura is … it’s a lot of things,” Dad replied, waving one hand vaguely in front of him as he got out of his seat and moved a little closer to the television. “At the start, and basically, and for most people, it’s a shield. It lets you take hits without getting hurt, it means that we can have this tournament and nobody has to clean body parts up off the arena floor at the end of the day, and even if you do get hurt, then when your aura comes back, it will heal you — like it did for Sky. But, if you want to, then you can also learn how to use your aura to attack with. Like … well, like you just saw there; what you do is you … it’s hard to explain to people who don’t know anything about any of this stuff.”

“Your aura leaves you,” Rouge said. “But you can choose in what form; you can shape it as it departs.”

Kendal, River, Sky, and Violet all looked at her; Aoko remained focussed on her computer.

“The theory seems simple enough to understand,” Rouge murmured.

“Not quite,” Aoko said. “Aura isn’t a laser beam. If you unleash it without a form, then you’ll get power in proportion to how much aura you use, but it will be somewhat without direction, like the way that Neon Katt broke through Weiss Schnee’s barriers through random application of aura. But Pyrrha used her shield to shape her aura; it acted as a mould, giving form and direction to her attack.”

Sky said, “How do you—?”

“I work in the weapons division,” Aoko said. “I need to understand this sort of thing so that I can meet the needs of our clients.”

“So does that mean that you could do that, Dad?” asked River. “Could Jaune do that?”

“And how come Pyrrha didn’t do that before now?” Sky added. “Why doesn’t everyone do that?”

“That’s a lot of questions, but no, I never used my aura like that,” Dad said. “You see, the limit to this kind of thing — and I think this is probably why Pyrrha hasn’t done it before — is that you have to spend aura to do it. The aura that you put into an attack like that, you won’t get it back; it’s gone for now, which can be dangerous if you’re in the middle of a fight and you need all the aura you can get to protect yourself. Now, some people think it’s worth it, some people have enough aura that they can afford to shave off a little bit, but I’m guessing that Pyrrha doesn’t think it’s worth the effort normally, only she needed an ace in the hole in this fight, something that that other girl, her rival, hadn’t seen before. Could Jaune do that? Sure, if he worked at it and practised a lot. He’s even got enough aura that he could probably get away with it better than most.”

“I think I’d rather he kept it to protect himself,” Mom murmured.

“Yeah, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Dad said. “You got to ask yourself if these flashy techniques are worth it. I didn’t think so, and while Jaune might disagree, he might think it’s better off keeping his aura for—”

“For his teammates,” Rouge said. “Since Jaune’s aura doesn’t just protect himself, but also Pyrrha and his friends, I think that he might eschew expending it offensively so that he has more of it to spare for them, when they need it.”


“So that’s it then,” Terra murmured. “The rivalry ends.”

“'Ends'?” Cable asked. “Can’t Arslan try again the year after next? Or in Mistral next year?”

“Auntie Pyrrha is giving up the celebrity life,” Saphron said, speaking to Adrian even as she directed her words in Cable’s direction. “Yes, she’s going to turn her back on all that money and power to become a huntress because she’s a pretty face but an empty head, yes, yes, she does, that what’s makes her perfect for your Uncle Jaune, yes, it is. Yes, it is!”

“It will never not be weird that you keep calling her ‘Auntie Pyrrha’ in front of our son,” Terra said, in a deadpan voice.

Saphron looked up at her. “What about when they get married and she really is his Auntie Pyrrha?”

Terra blinked. “Okay, fine, then it will not be weird. But what if they break up before then?”

“Oh, they’re not going to break up, come on!” Saphron declared. “She’s set for life, and so is he.”

“Well, make sure your mother gets an invite to the wedding, won’t you?” Cable said. “Otherwise, you know she’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

“I … they might not want the groom’s sister-in-law’s mother at the wedding,” Terra suggested. “They might want a small, quiet affair.”

“Nonsense!” Cable cried. “No such thing as quiet when it comes to celebrities. There’ll be room for your mother if you ask for it.”

“You’re probably right, Cable, if only because they’re nice enough to make room if they get asked,” Saphron agreed.

Terra rolled her eyes. “Let’s … let’s wait until Jaune actually proposes before we start planning our plus ones, okay? Or Pyrrha does, for that matter, although I think she’s too old fashioned for that. Anyway … let’s just wait. Okay, let’s leave it. The point is … what were we even talking about?”

“Auntie Pyrrha is retiring,” Cable said.

“Don’t start, Dad,” Terra groaned. “But yes, she is. So is Arslan, for that matter. They’re both going to become huntresses.”

“More fool them, if you ask me,” Cable said. “You wouldn’t catch me tramping up and down the wilderness with a sword looking for monsters.”

“We didn’t want Jaune to do that either,” Saphron admitted. “But … it’s what he wanted, and in the end … we just had to accept that, instead of trying to stand in his way. They’re very brave.”

“So long as they understand the risks they’re taking,” Cable said.

“With their lives?” asked Terra.

“Well, that too, but not what I was thinking of, love, no,” Cable said. “I was thinking more about how people like your mother would feel if her hero died in some fight somewhere. The broken hearts … that’s what the grimm are drawn to, isn’t it? Negativity?”

“So we’re told,” Saphron murmured. “Although … I don’t really want to talk about that sort of thing. I don’t want to … just thinking about Jaune’s heart in that kind of circumstance is bad enough. But she’s so good that it won’t happen, right?”

“Right,” Terra said. “I mean, you just saw, you just saw a really good fight between two people who are at the top of their game, two people who are so good that it’s actually really hard for them to land hits on one another. That’s why they both had to come up with new moves.”

“Really?” Saphron asked.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like that aura attack or the thing with the fireballs,” Terra said. “That … that was a fitting end, I think. For both of them.”


Arslan had her hands clasped together behind her head as she and Pyrrha — the latter having recovered Akoúo̱, slung across her back along with Miló — walked, sauntered almost, towards the tunnel out of which they had emerged.

She sighed. “I’m going to miss this,” she murmured wistfully.

Pyrrha smiled slightly. “You don’t have to leave it behind. Nobody can force you to. Certainly, I wouldn’t dream of trying.”

“I know,” Arslan said. “But I’ve already announced my retirement.”

“You could change your mind,” Pyrrha pointed out.

“I could, but I don’t want to,” Arslan replied. “It looks indecisive, one foot in, one foot out, like I can’t make my mind up, like I don’t know what I want.”

“Are you sure that this is what you want?” Pyrrha asked. “To leave all of this behind?”

Arslan hesitated for half a second before she nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve had a good run, won some fights, won show tournaments, placed well in the ones that I didn’t win. And although I didn’t get the big title the way I would have liked, or this title, I’ve still done better than most. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.” She twisted her body at the waist to look up at Pyrrha. “And besides, it’s like I told you before: if I waited until you’d retired, and then I won the title, people would just say that I wasn’t the real champion because I couldn’t beat you until you’d thrown in the towel.”

“Except that I’m not the champion,” Pyrrha pointed out. “Metella is.”

“And people are already saying that about her,” Arslan said. “That she isn’t the real champion because she never fought you; you vacated the title.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Pyrrha said. “There have been plenty of occasions throughout the history of the tournament when the reigning Champion vacated and did not seek to contest the honour. It was never held against their successor.”

“There weren’t a lot of occasions when someone won it four times on the trot,” Arslan pointed out. “I’m not saying that it’s right, but … it’s what Metella has to put up with, and it’s what I’d have to put up with next year; in fact, I’d get it worse because I’ve contested it with you so often, it really would look like I’d just waited you out.” She snorted. “Not that it isn’t tempting, I must admit. No matter what they said, I’d be the champion, get the laurel, get the chariot ride, the whole thing.”

“Then do it,” Pyrrha said.

“Don’t tempt me,” Arslan muttered. She shrugged her shoulders. “There are more important things than laurels or titles. Self respect, keeping your word, doing the things that you say you’ll do and not going back because it would be easier or because it would get you something you really want. All that role model stuff. And, like I said to your friend Ruby … I get that this is important, this huntress stuff, I mean. It’s … I’ve had my fun, and it has been fun, but … now it’s time to grow up a little bit, you know?”

“Time to step out of the little world of the arena and into the real world?” Pyrrha suggested.

“Yeah,” Arslan agreed. “Yeah, I guess you could put it like that.” Another sigh passed her lips. “But I will miss this. Not least because I can’t help but feel as though my life after this is going to be kind of dull by comparison.”

Pyrrha covered her mouth with one hand as she chuckled. “In my experience, being a huntress is many things, but dull is not one of them.”

Arslan let her hands fall down to her sides. “I don’t know if our paths will cross again while we’re still at school, but I’ll tell you what: once we’ve both graduated, the next tournament afterwards, we’ll get a box together in the Colosseum and swap stories.”

Pyrrha smiled down at her. “I would like that very much.”

“And we’ll trash talk the fighters down below and complain about how standards have slipped since our day.”

“No, I don’t think I’d like that so much,” Pyrrha murmured. “Especially since our day will hardly have passed; it will still be Vespa and Metella and all the rest. Just not us.”

“Okay, we’ll leave that bit then,” Arslan said. “Save it for a few years down the road.”

Pyrrha shook her head a little as they continued on, almost reaching the tunnel mouth.

They had almost reached it when Penny emerged, leaping out of the shadows to envelop Pyrrha in a hug that pinned Pyrrha’s arms to her sides, that squeezed her back so hard that Pyrrha felt it through her aura.

“You won!” Penny cried, lifting Pyrrha up off the ground and spinning her around. “You won, and you’re through to the next round!” She put Pyrrha down and then, and only then, seemed to realise or recall that Arslan was there also. “Um, I thought you did very well too,” she ventured.

Arslan waved her off. “To the victor go the hugs and kisses, it’s the way of things; please, don’t curb your enthusiasm on my account.”

“Congratulations!” Jaune said, as he followed Penny out of the tunnel. “Never a doubt, obviously.” He grinned as he scratched the back of his head, glancing towards Penny. “I don’t know, after Penny, there doesn’t seem to be much that I can really do to—”

“You could kiss?” Penny suggested.

Jaune’s eyes widened. “In front of all these people?”

“It’ll prove to the deluded that you really are in a relationship,” Arslan said. “Actually, no, it probably won’t, but don’t let that stop you.”

Jaune looked at her. “Who doesn’t think that we’re in a relationship?”

“The deluded, I just told you,” Arslan said. “People who think that Pyrrha’s faking a relationship so that she can fake a breakup afterwards.”

Really?” Pyrrha cried. “There are … there are people who think that? There are … why?”

“Because some people will believe anything,” Arslan said. “Don’t ask me to explain it.”

“Can I ask you how you know about this but I don’t?” asked Pyrrha.

“Because I read gossip magazines; it’s relaxing,” Arslan said. “So, while you two are obviously in a relationship, I have serious doubts about Countess Coloratura.”

Pyrrha’s eyebrows climbed up towards her gleaming circlet. “Are you sure that you … that you’re not…?” She searched for a polite and moderate way to suggest that Arslan was perhaps amongst the deluded in this particular instance; it was quite difficult.

“So, they don’t think it’s real, huh?” Jaune said. “Well…” He took a deep breath. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”

“J—” Pyrrha’s words were cut off, replaced by a gasp of shock as Jaune grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close and spinning her around as he twirled on his toes. One hand remained on her waist, descending a little towards the sash that covered her microskirt, Pyrrha could feel them upon her … yes, well, a lady didn’t discuss such things, but she couldn’t say she found it unpleasant. His other hand rose, climbing up her back until she could feel his fingers upon her skin, making their way up her spine, supporting her as Jaune leaned forwards, pushing Pyrrha backwards as he did so.

One of Pyrrha’s legs bent at the knee, the other kicking upwards as she leaned back so far her ponytail was touching the floor.

And then, bent over her, hands supporting her, Jaune kissed her.

Pyrrha’s eyes had widened at the surprise motion, but as he kissed her her eyes closed, and her arms closed around him.

His hand continued to work its way up, until it had climbed her neck and was in her hair.

Arslan had said that the arena was like a little world; well, this kiss was like a little world too, even smaller than the arena. A world for just the two of them, with crowd and kingdoms and even Arslan and Penny vanished from it.

Pyrrha was gasping for breath by the time that Jaune lifted his head away from her, but if they had kept on until one or both of them passed out, she would not have complained.

No, she wouldn’t have complained one bit.

“Sorry about the surprise,” Jaune said, as he straightened up, and helped her to do so also. “It’s just that … I guess I … kinda wanted to show them, which sounds kind of stupid now that I say it out loud.”

Pyrrha put one hand upon his chest. “Don’t worry,” she said. “That sort of surprise is always welcome.”

In the stands, someone whistled.

“Ahem,” Doctor Oobleck said, his voice echoing. “The final match will be between Rainbow Dash of Atlas and Sun Wukong of Haven; will both contestants please make their way out onto the battlefield?”


Blake let out a soft groan. Yes, this had been inevitable from the moment that Pyrrha and Arslan had been called as the third match, but that didn't entirely negate the impact of the confirmation.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" asked Mom solicitously, putting a hand upon Blake's arm. The solicitousness of her tone was somewhat undercut by the mischievousness of her smile as she added, "Are you struggling to work out who to support, your friend or your boyfriend?"

"It's not that, Mom," Blake replied. "I just feel bad for Sun; he's about to get knocked out of the tournament."

"You don't know that for sure," Mom said. "Maybe you should have a little more faith in Sun."

"I have faith," Blake said. "But that faith is bounded by reason, as it should be, and my reason tells me that Sun isn't going to win this."

"Eeyup," Applejack added.

"No way!" Scootaloo agreed vocally.

"You can do this, Rainbow Dash!" squealed Pinkie Pie.

"Not exactly an unbiased crowd, is it?" Mom asked, her voice trembling with amusement.

"In the interests of bounding our faith with reason," Cadance said, sounding almost as amused as Blake's Mom, "Shining Armor, you fought Sun last night, you told me he was ready, so what do you make of this?"

"He's not bad at all," Shining Armor said. "He wouldn't have made it this far if he was, and I wouldn't have told you he was ready if he wasn't. He'll survive in Mantle, and if he left Mantle, then he'd survive against the grimm too. But is he going to beat Rainbow Dash? No."

"You said that with remarkable certainty," observed Mom.

"That's because it's true, ma'am," Shining Armor said.

"Well, it seems that received wisdom is wholly against me," Mom said. She paused a moment. "Blake, since it's her teammate fighting, why don't you ask your friend with the big gun to stop loitering around outside and come join us?"

Blake looked at her mother, eyes widening.

"Yes, dear, I noticed," Mom said. "She isn't subtle. Honestly, if I didn't know she was a friend of yours, I'd be a little concerned." The way that her smile didn't quite reach her eyes suggested that she was still a little concerned.

Cadance leaned sideways to whisper something into Mom's ear. Blake couldn't hear the words being said, but she did see her Mother's expression grow more concerned for a moment, a deep frown creasing her brows, before her expression softened again.

"Ah," she murmured. "Yes, now I see." The smile returned to her face. "My point stands, nevertheless, Blake; why don't you invite Ciel to join us?"

Blake started to rise from her seat. "I'll go ask her now, before the match starts."


Rainbow rolled her shoulders. "Okay then," she muttered under her breath. She raised her voice to say, "You ready, Sun?"

Sun didn't answer right away. He was talking to his blue-haired pal, Neptune. Rainbow couldn't hear what they were saying — and he was, anyway, a little bit distracted by the way that another of Sun's teammates, the guy with the sides of his head shaved and the red pelisse, Rainbow couldn't remember his name — was glaring at Sun.

But the conversation between Sun and Neptune must have been encouraging, at least, because it ended on a hug between the two of them.

The guy who had been glaring at Sun offered Rainbow a thumbs up, before miming stabbing Sun in the back, repeatedly.

What was up with that, Rainbow did not know. She understood that Sun wasn't Mister Popular, and all things considered, she'd have to admit that she understood why, but if Sun lost this match, then Haven would be eliminated from the tournament.

Now, maybe that didn't bother the Haven students too much because they were treating Pyrrha like one of their own — as far as Rainbow could tell, none of them seemed too broken up about Arslan's defeat — but even so.

Of course, if Rainbow lost, then Atlas would be the one out of the tournament, so bad luck, Sun.

"Do it for Atlas, Dashie!" Neon yelled. "Win one for the General!"

"I mean to," Rainbow said.

Sun and Neptune stopped hugging it out, and Sun turned to face Rainbow. "Yeah, I'm ready now."

"Then let's not keep the people waiting," Rainbow said.

The two of them left the stands together, descending the stairs into the corridor.

"You know, I didn't get a chance to ask," Rainbow said, as their footsteps echoed a little bit off the tunnel walls. "How did it go with Shining Armor last night?"

A bright smile lit up Sun's face. "Oh, it went pretty great! I didn't beat him, but I passed! Councillor Cadance is going to get the paperwork rolling."

"Oh, yeah? Congratulations!" Rainbow offering him her hand. "You're gonna be a huntsman before any of us, huh?"

Sun laughed. "Heh, yeah, I guess I am. Feels weird when you say it like that."

"You had a shot, and you took it," Rainbow replied. "Nothing weird about that. Does Blake know?"

"No, I haven't told her," Sun said. "I was gonna, but … well, you know, you all seemed kinda—”

"It was a long night last night," Rainbow agreed.

"And then…" Sun trailed off for a second. "What's going on?"

"A lot of things are going on, all the time," Rainbow said.

"You know what I mean," Sun insisted. "What's going on with Sunset, and all the stuff that they—?"

"Sunset is a victim of slander," Rainbow declared. "It's all just like Skystar Aris said: she made up a story, decided not to spread it around, only for someone else to get a hold of it. That's all, no truth, all lies."

"Then why isn't Sunset here, cheering Pyrrha on?" Sun asked.

"Because she's on a mission."

"Why her, why now?" Sun demanded. "I'm not stupid, Rainbow Dash. Well … I’m not completely stupid, anyway."

"I never said you were," Rainbow replied. She paused. "Why Sunset? Why were we in Mountain Glenn? There are things going on that neither I nor Blake can tell you, so you're just going to trust me a little bit." She smiled. "But you know, you should bring that inquiring side of you to Mantle; they could use it there as much as they could use your stick and guns."

"You think so?"

“Yeah, I do,” Rainbow said. "In Mantle, I think working out who the bad guys are will be as important as fighting them." Rainbow thought about that old lady, Ciel's friend, beaten to death in her own house by some punk loser. "Sometimes, you won't even have to fight, so long as you can…" — she searched for the right words — "so long as you can find out who's responsible."

"Responsible for what?"

"Whatever the problem is," Rainbow replied.

"Right," Sun said, nodding. "Good thing I'm not completely stupid then, huh?"

Rainbow smiled for a second. "Hey, Sun … is it me, or are some of your teammates pulling for me?"

"Who, you mean Scarlet?" Sun asked. "Yeah, he'll be happy to see me gone. He … he's not very happy with me. For good reason, I guess, but … yeah, if you beat me, you'll be making him very happy."

"'If'?" Rainbow asked

"Yeah," Sun said. "'If.'"

Rainbow didn't reply to that, or she was spared the need to because they had reached the end of the tunnel.

Pyrrha and the others were still there, waiting for them, or at least, that was how it seemed.

Sun grinned. "Nice moves, Jaune."

Pyrrha's cheeks reddened with a blush that only made her look cuter; Jaune's entire face reddened to make him look like a pepper fit for the curry pot.

"Well, uh, I guess that I, um, I wasn't—" he stammered.

"Good luck," Pyrrha said quickly. "Both of you."

"Yes, do your best, Rainbow Dash!" Penny added.

"Thanks," Rainbow said, as she and Sun stepped out together, into the light — it was just gone noon, with the sun at its zenith; by the time of the final match, allowing for breaks to recharge aura, it would be dark — and the applause of the crowds all around them.

"This is pretty cool, right?" Sun asked as he waved to his adoring fans. "I mean, for once in a while. It beats getting chased around and called a criminal, that's for sure."

"I wouldn't know about that," Rainbow replied as she, too, waved to the crowd — using both hands in her case. "But you're not wrong; this is pretty nice." She grinned. "You won't get this in Mantle."

Sun chuckled. "That's why I said 'every once in a while.'"

The two took up positions on opposite sides of the hexagon as the rest of the arena retracted and they became the latest in the line of contestants to drop down into the pit.

"Rainbow Dash of Atlas!" Doctor Oobleck cried.

Rainbow raised both fists in the air as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

"Sun Wukong of Haven!"

Sun whooped as he made do with raising one hand.

"Three!"

Sun twirled his staff in one hand; it seemed a red circular blur in the air.

"Two!"

Rainbow's hands clenched into fists.

"One! FIGHT!"

Rainbow surged forward; leaving a rainbow trail blazing in her wake. She’d tried to show something different in each of her battles so far; now, she was going to show what happened when she decided to just blitz it. She could see Sun spinning his staff around before him, deflecting her bullets — or trying to — but in the grip of her semblance, he seemed to be moving so slowly; what had been the red blur in front of him as he spun his staff with such speed had become a perfectly visible red bo-staff, one that was still moving but at a distinctly normal speed, verging upon slow.

Certainly, it was too slow for her.

I’m sorry, Sun, but Adam was faster than you, and Adam wasn’t fast enough for me.

From Rainbow’s perspective, it took no time at all to close the distance between her and Sun, though she’d started from the opposite end of the battlefield to him. She grabbed his staff with one hand as she slammed her fist into Sun’s gut with the other, putting all the momentum of her semblance-powered charge into the blow and adding more than a little bit of her aura into the strike for good measure.

The booming sound of Rainbow’s aura strike echoed around the arena; the shockwave erupted out in all directions in front of her as Sun was blasted backwards, arms and legs flailing — right off the edge of the arena.

Rainbow walked to the edge in order to see Sun fall.

Or to see him get caught by a couple of his golden clones before he actually hit the ground, who proceeded to throw him back upwards before he could actually get disqualified for ring out.

Rainbow pulled Brutal Honesty and Plain Awesome from their holsters, firing with both machine pistols, fingers squeezing the triggers down as she tracked Sun’s rise. He spun his staff in front of him to try and deflect the bullets away, but he was only partially successful in that, and it took a few more chips off an aura that she’d damaged already.

Nevertheless, with the momentum of his clones' throw behind him, Sun managed to regain the stage, landing to a loud cheer from his supporters.

He had less than a second to enjoy it before Rainbow, shoving her pistols quickly back into their holsters, was right on top of him again.

Sun swung his staff at her, but Rainbow blocked it with one hand as she slammed her other fist into his gut. It was like hitting frozen beef, his abs were as hard as rock — how often did he work out? — but it forced Sun back a step and loosened his grip on his own staff to let Rainbow wrench it out of his hands and hit him across the face with it before she threw it aside.

Then she punched him again — once, twice, three times — slamming her fists into that absurdly hard chest that damaged her aura around the knuckles — but probably not as much as she was damaging his, or at least, she hoped not.

Sun tried to retreat, to open up some distance between the two of them, but Rainbow kept at him, faster than him so he couldn’t really get away from her, blocking his attempt to hit back, pounding on him, and pounding, and pounding again—

“Sun Wukong’s aura has dropped below the limit!” Doctor Oobleck cried. “Rainbow Dash is the winner!”

“Yes!” Rainbow yelled, punching the air, but in a restrained way because Sun was kind of a friend. He was Blake’s boyfriend, anyway, so Rainbow should probably know him better than she did.

She let her hands fall to her sides. “No hard feelings, right?”

Sun winced. “Ask me again when I start to feel a little bit better.”


“And that concludes the first exciting round of these finals!” Professor Port declared, his voice piped into the corridor. “Now, in battle, huntsmen and huntresses may be forced to fight with their aura diminished from prior exertions, but in recognition of the fact that some of our semi-finalists have been exerting themselves quite a lot already, we’ll be taking a break to allow some of their aura to recharge. But don’t go away! It only gets better from here!”

“So, what should I do when I meet Pyrrha’s mom?” Penny whispered to Jaune. “Is there anything that I ought to know?”

“Just a couple of things, yeah,” Jaune replied. “The first thing is to call her ‘my lady,’ as in, Lady Nikos. The other thing is that there’s this bow that Sunset taught me, you give it when you’re first introduced to her. What you do is, you put one foot behind the other, spread your hands out on either side of you, and bend down from the waist, make sense?”

There was a sort of tapping, thumping noise from behind Pyrrha.

“One foot behind the other is hard to do when I’m trying to move forward,” Penny complained.

“It doesn’t matter if it isn’t perfect,” Jaune assured her. “Just so long as you’re making the effort, that’ll be fine.”

Pyrrha, walking ahead of both Penny and Jaune, leading the way to her mother’s box, smiled ever so slightly at what she could hear from behind her. She was tempted, momentarily, to pretend that she couldn’t hear it, but in the end, she turned to face them both, paying particular attention to Penny.

“You know, Penny, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” she said. “I know that I suggested you might, but if you’d rather go back to the stands, then—”

“No,” Penny said quickly. “No, I’d like to meet your mother. Everyone else on the team has, haven’t they? And although she can’t know … or can she know?”

“If Sunset has spoken to Mother already, as I’m sure she will have, then she will know the truth already,” Pyrrha said. “Or at least, she will know that Sunset is … she will know, so she can know.”

“Then I’d like to meet her, as your new team leader,” Penny said. “If that’s alright with you, that is; it doesn’t feel like something I should order you to do.” She adopted a mock-stern voice. “Take me to your mother, Pyrrha; that’s an order!”

Pyrrha chuckled. “There’s no need to make it that official, I assure you.” She paused. “I would like to tell you that my mother won’t judge you on such things as the bow or the mode of address; unfortunately, that would be a lie, but I … I believe that Jaune is right that Mother will not expect perfection, merely a degree of effort.”

Penny took the opportunity of them having stopped walking to attempt the bow that Jaune had just outlined for her. She was not as good at it as Sunset had been, it lacked a certain natural quality coming from Penny, but it was very well done for the first time.

Penny looked up at her. “Am I doing it right?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Pyrrha admitted. “You see, that isn’t a Mistralian bow.”

“It’s not?” Penny asked.

“No, that’s one of Sunset’s own,” Pyrrha said. “Although it seemed to do well enough when it came to impressing my mother.”

Penny frowned. “But then … Sunset comes from…” Her mouth formed an O. “But the ponies in Equestria do put one of their front legs back just like this! And then bow like this! That’s how Twilight bowed to Princess Celestia! Oh, Sunset must have converted it to a human form! That’s so cool!”

“A human…” Pyrrha trailed off. Of course, Sunset was … Sunset was…

“I’m a magical unicorn.”

It was one thing to believe that when Sunset said it, it was also one thing to remember that Sunset lived in another world, a world to which she could presumably return if she wished to — although Pyrrha found herself glad that she didn’t — it was another thing to think about what that really meant.

Specifically, it was something else to imagine Sunset as a kind of horse.

Pyrrha had never really thought about it. She wasn’t wholly sure that she wished to do so.

It was rather … strange to contemplate.

“Of course,” Pyrrha murmured. “Yes, I see what you mean. That…” She pushed the thought of equine Sunset out of her mind to focus on Penny. “That looks very nice, Penny. I’m sure it will do fine. And if it doesn’t, it really doesn’t matter all that much.”

“I know,” Penny said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make a good impression.”

Pyrrha smiled at her, then turned away to continue leading the way for the others.

She led them up the several flights of steps, up to near the very top of the arena, to the box where, as she had yesterday, Hestia stood in attendance on the door.

Hestia bowed her head. “Good afternoon, young mistress. And congratulations.”

“Thank you, Hestia,” Pyrrha said. “I imagine that you’d quite like to sit down.”

“I’m fine, young mistress,” Hestia said, “but thank you kindly for saying so.” She cleared her throat. “Lady Pyrrha, ma’am, and Mister Arc and…” Hestia paused for a moment. “And company.”

She stepped aside, and before Pyrrha could introduce Hestia to Penny or vice versa, she felt herself pulled into the box itself as though Hestia had been a pressurised door which, once open, caused everything on the one side to be wrenched inexorably into the other.

As she walked in, she saw her mother climb to her feet, pushing herself up on her cane.

“Pyrrha!” she cried, her voice louder than seemed necessary in the circumstances. “Pyrrha,” she repeated, her walking cane tapping upon the metallic floor of the box as she walked around the edge of the row of seats.

Pyrrha did likewise, walking quickly around the edges of the seats, her sash swaying and bouncing beside her. “Mother, there is no need—”

“I am not yet so frail,” Mother said, her voice sharp, cracking like a whip.

Pyrrha stopped. “No,” she murmured. “No, of course not, Mother.”

For a moment, there was silence, only the tap tap of Mother’s cane upon the floor.

She stood in front of Pyrrha, of a height with her but seeming a little smaller because of the slight tilt of the floor of the box.

She reached up with her free hand — the other holding the handle of her ebony cane — and stroked Pyrrha’s cheek, a gentle gesture for a hand that otherwise felt hard.

Or perhaps it was simply Pyrrha’s surprise that made the gesture feel awkward.

When Mother kissed her, leaning forward to plant a kiss upon first one cheek and then the other, it felt … different. It was not the first time, but it did not feel like the other times, although Pyrrha confessed that she would have been hard pressed to explain why it was so.

Perhaps it was no different, the difference existing only in her imagination.

“You … have done well,” Mother said. “Doubly so.”

“Indeed!” Lord Wong declared as he followed Lady Nikos up onto his feet; Pyrrha noticed him now for the first time, her attention drawn away from her mother to the ambassador and his wife, who stood up beside him, although there was a gap between them which she guessed was filled with—

“Well done, Pyrrha!” Soojin cried. “You were amazing out there!”

Pyrrha smiled. “Thank you, Lady Soojin, but I couldn’t have done it without the support of my biggest fan.”

“Congratulations, Lady Pyrrha,” Lady Wong said.

“A doubled congratulations,” Lord Wong said, “upon both your victories, of today and of last night.”

“'Last night'?” Soojin repeated. “What happened last night, Papa? Was there a match I didn’t see? But then, this is the first—”

“Last night, Soojin, Lady Pyrrha defeated and apprehended a dangerous criminal on the streets of Vale in a real battle,” Lady Wong said. “And for that, she deserves our praise even more than for the tournament victory.”

“The tournament victory was mine alone, my lady, but the victory in Vale was won by my team; we all should share equally in the acclaim and the praise,” Pyrrha said. “Speaking of which, you all remember Jaune, but allow me to introduce my friend Penny Polendina, who fought with us last night and struck the final blow against our enemy. Penny, allow me to name my mother, Lady Nikos; the Mistralian ambassador to Vale, Lord Wong; his lady wife; and their daughter, the Lady Soojin.”

Penny’s eyes seemed to widen a little at being in the presence of so many dignitaries, but nevertheless kept her composure as she bowed, in the Sunset fashion that Jaune had shown her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all, my ladies and my lord.”

“Miss Polendina,” Lord Wong said, in his gravelly tones. “You are of Atlas Academy’s Team Rosepetal, yes?”

“Uh, yes, my lord, I am,” Penny said, before letting out a hiccup. “Sorry.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Polendina,” Mother said. “You came to your semblance upon the battlefield in the first round, no?”

Penny smiled. “Yes, my lady, I found it then. I was very lucky.”

“As was your team; without it, you might have lost the match,” Mother observed. “Mister Arc, fare you well?”

“Very well, my lady,” Jaune said. He paused, before venturing on, “the better for having seen Pyrrha win already.”

“I should hope so, after that kiss,” Lady Wong said, in a somewhat arch tone.

Jaune swallowed. “That, uh … I was … I’m not sure—”

“You were overcome by the moment,” Lord Wong said, enunciating his words carefully. “That is what you must say in these circumstances, even — perhaps especially — when it isn’t true.”

Soojin giggled.

“Kindly attempt to maintain some decorum for the rest of the day, Mister Arc; this is Pyrrha’s moment, not yours,” Mother said sharply.

Jaune bowed his head. “Of course, my lady.”

Mother inhaled. “Lord Wong, Lady Wong, will you excuse me a moment? My daughter and I must have some private conference. I shall not be too long.”

“We could leave you for a moment, my lady, if you would prefer—” Lady Wong began.

“No, no, Lady Wong, that will not be necessary; I would not dream of it,” Lady Nikos said, waving her free hand. “Pyrrha, walk with me a moment, if you will.”

“Of course, Mother,” Pyrrha said.

It does not take the wit of Creon to guess what you wish to speak of.

She backed away, first, to allow her mother to get out, and then fell in at Mother’s side as the two of them walked out of the box and began to descend the stairs downwards. Mother held onto the metal rail with one hand, holding her stick with the other. They had gone about halfway down, more or less, when Mother stopped, still holding onto the rail.

“So,” she said, “you have fought your last match against Arslan Altan. The contest is ended once and for all and decisively in your favour. How does it feel?”

“I’m glad it ended on a splendid battle,” Pyrrha said, “one where we both fought with all our might and showed ourselves at our best, in skill if not always in the results that we obtained with that skill. It was a fight worth remembering, and I am glad it was so.”

“Mmm,” Mother murmured. “That business with your aura, and your shield—”

“It was necessary, Mother,” Pyrrha said. “I needed something that Arslan wasn’t expecting.”

“Then you don’t plan to make a habit of it?” Mother asked.

“No, Mother,” Pyrrha replied. “I don’t think I need to, in the ordinary course of things.”

“Good,” Mother said. “I have always thought that such techniques put style over substance.”

“I think there may be use for them, in certain situations.”

“When facing opponents who are very familiar with your capabilities?”

“I was thinking more often of when it may be advantageous to deal more damage quickly, rather than in a slower but more precise fashion.”

“Even at the cost of your own aura?” Mother asked.

“Better to expend some of it to win the battle than to have it whittled away from one, no?” Pyrrha asked.

“Better not to lose it in the first place,” Mother replied. “Still, you won the battle. You are one step closer to the ultimate glory, the goal which I intended for you.”

“Yes, yes, you did,” Pyrrha could not help but say in reply. “And yet, for all that … I desire it also.”

Mother looked at her. “You do?”

“I fear so,” Pyrrha admitted. “I find that I would rather like to retire upon a high note.”

“You fear it?” Mother asked. “And tell me, Pyrrha, why should you fear to have ambition?”

“Because…” Pyrrha hesitated. “Because I … I would prefer not to say.”

“Because you thought that my ambition was something you had escaped, and so you looked down upon me for possessing it?”

“I have never looked down upon you, Mother,” Pyrrha murmured.

“Resented me, then, for pushing you to attain something which you now wish for yourself,” Mother said. “Well, leave it be; for myself, I find that it matters less to me than it did upon a time.” She tightened her grip upon the bannister, her knuckles turning white. “Miss Shimmer came to see me this morning, before I arrived here.”

Pyrrha paused for a moment. “What did Sunset tell you?”

“The truth,” Mother said. “I confess myself disappointed in you, Pyrrha; that disappointment tarnishes your victories in my eyes. I thought you had been raised better than this, that Chiron’s tutelage at least might have taught you better, even if my parentage had not.”

“I…” Pyrrha trailed off, blinking rapidly. “'Disappointed'? I don’t understand.”

“Do you not?” Mother asked. “Do you truly not? Has this place made you so … so Valish?” She almost spat the word. “No, not even that, for surely, even in Vale, they understand the virtue of fidelity. Miss Rose is not with you?”

Pyrrha did not miss the note of hostility that entered into her mother’s voice when she said Ruby’s name. “No,” she said softly. “Ruby is detained in Beacon by some other business.”

“Good, or I should be hard pressed not to give her a piece of my mind,” Mother fairly growled.

“Mother—”

“Miss Shimmer saved your life!” Mother declared. “And you repay her by allowing Miss Rose, not even one of your professors, a mere child, to drive her into bootless exile out of Beacon? Is that how the House of Nikos repays the debts it owes?”

“I told Sunset to go to you,” Pyrrha said. “That you would give her succour and assistance.”

“Very thoughtful of you,” Mother said in words as sharp as Miló’s edge. “Did you speak up in her defence?”

Pyrrha bowed her head, feeling as though a weight were being placed upon it. “No. Not … not until we were nearly alone.”

“So you said nothing where you could be heard,” Mother muttered. “I did not think that I had raised a coward.”

“'Coward'?” Pyrrha cried, her voice rising even as her head rose to look her mother in the face once more. “Mother, I … what Sunset did, what you would have had me defend … have you no feeling for the people of Vale, for this city?”

“No,” Mother said bluntly. “Miss Shimmer also spoke of this city of Vale; it moved me as little from her lips.”

“Sunset acknowledges that she made a mistake,” Pyrrha murmured.

“Saving your life is not a mistake in my eyes,” Mother replied.

“In passing, do we not achieve immortality?”

“Do not grow insolent with me, daughter,” Mother snapped. “It may be that I have grown indulgent, but that indulgence … or do you speak sincerely, and not out of a desire to bait my temper?” Her voice softened. “Do you believe that I would ever wish you dead? My only child, the future of my house and line?”

She released her grip upon the stair rail and exchanged the hand which held her walking cane, fumbling with it for a moment before she laid her newly-freed hand on Pyrrha’s shoulder.

“Glory, yes, but … but not at the expense of your life. I would not grow old in a futureless house, doomed to crumble once I breathe my last, to be interred in a crypt that will soon become the property of some pot-bellied merchant. Do you think that if you perished, I would spend my last days beside your statue, accosting passersby to tell them that you died very well, and I have no regrets? I would have you live, live to shine brightly, yes, as bright as any star in Mistral’s firmament, but I would have you live.”

“I know,” Pyrrha whispered. “I know you would, and that is why I knew that you would take care of Sunset. I am sorry that I … should not have suggested otherwise. But as a huntress—”

“You were my heir before you were a huntress,” Mother said. “You were the daughter of the House of Nikos before you were a huntress.”

“And as a daughter of the House of Nikos, have I not some obligations towards the people?” Pyrrha asked. “And as a huntress, we must needs be prepared to give our lives in service of a greater cause, as Achates Kommenos did upon the field of the Four Sovereigns, or Tarpeia Thrax holding off the savages so that Prince Pyrrhus might escape.”

“And in that line stands Sunset Shimmer, in my eyes,” Mother replied. “As a sworn sword and a protector, pledged by honour and her word to put your life before all other cares or considerations.”

Pyrrha closed her eyes a moment. “It is not … Sunset acknowledges that she made a mistake; can you not do the same?”

Mother was silent a moment. “Let it be conceded, then,” she said softly. “But even so, the fact remains, she saved your life, and you repaid her loyalty with silence. A mistake, you call it; you do not claim that she did treachery, that she meant wickedness by it?”

“No, of course not,” Pyrrha said.

“She is my sworn sword,” Mother said. “Your leader, your battle companion, your friend. And yet, you had no care for friendship or fidelity, you said nothing and let Miss Rose pass judgement and sentence.”

“I know that Sunset did not say it so,” Pyrrha said.

“You said nothing,” Mother repeated. “You were silent.”

“You speak to shame me,” Pyrrha whispered. “But what would you have had me do? Seek to sustain Sunset at Beacon, against Ruby’s opposition?”

“If you could inspire no clemency in Miss Rose, then I would rather you had left with Miss Shimmer, even forfeiting this tournament, rather than allow her to be spurned like a stranger cur while you bore witness,” Mother said, “and by the witnessing gave your approval to it.”

That stung, and stung all the more for being so unexpected to hear from her mother. It felt as though Arslan’s fireballs had not done so much to Pyrrha’s aura. Pyrrha had endured the flames, but this … this was harder to endure, and Pyrrha felt once more the weight pressing down upon her head, forcing her neck to bow.

“Give up the tournament?” Pyrrha repeated. “You would have had it so, truly?”

Mother was silent a moment. “I would rather see you without laurels on your brow than devoid of the virtues of our class, to turn out one who has served you faithfully.”

“What you’ve done is so awful that you must go; oh, but see my mother, she may toss you a scrap or two.”

I wonder that Amber did not call me cruel; I would deserve the name more than Ruby does, for Ruby was as cold as steel while she banished Sunset, and spoke with honest harshness in the banishment. I professed love, while turning my back upon she who has loved me greatly in her turn.

I should have spoken out for mercy, at the least, if I had meant what I said, of great affection. Or else I should not have claimed to possess said great affection after the deed was done.

“Your words do shame me,” she confessed.

“They are intended to,” Mother said bluntly.

Pyrrha glanced at her. “What … what should I do?”

“Do you ask for my command, who have so often railed against it in your heart?”

“No,” Pyrrha said. “But I do ask your counsel.”

“I have offered Sunset command of a mercenary company,” Mother declared, in yet another surprise for Pyrrha’s ears. “Or rather, since I do not have such a thing at present, I have offered to found and fund one, under her leadership, that she may put her skills to good use in Mistral. If you were to join in with her, as joint leader, it would add great lustre to the venture, and immediately, the prestige of the new group would be immense by your participation.”

“Leave Beacon?”

“Has it so much to teach you?” Lady Nikos said. “Bring Mister Arc with you, if you wish.”

“Yes, I would like to have him with me, but to leave Beacon … leave Ruby and Penny—”

“Miss Polendina?”

“She is my — our — new team leader, in Sunset’s place,” Pyrrha explained briefly. “She meant to transfer to Beacon in any case; this is … the opportunity arose for her to do so early.”

“As leader?” Mother asked.

“You call me coward, and then you express disappointment that I was not chosen as team leader?” Pyrrha asked.

“I said nothing,” Mother replied.

Pyrrha blinked. “No, I suppose you … forgive me.” She frowned. “I cannot drag Jaune away from Beacon, abandon Penny and Ruby.” Yes, I could serve Professor Ozpin in Mistral, and start now, but still… “Jaune would not wish to go, and I have other friends than Sunset, other responsibilities.”

“You asked for my counsel.”

“But in this, Mother, and not for the first time, I cannot take the path that you would have me follow,” Pyrrha replied. “I may owe Sunset more than I have given her, but if so … if so, I must repay her in some other fashion.”

Author's Note:

I haven't gotten a lot of writing done this week, so we'll be taking a week break and back in the new year on Monday 8th January.

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