The Making of Change (New)
The Making of Change
“So, what did your mother want to say to you?” Jaune asked as the three of them walked down the stairs. Jaune was besides Pyrrha, with Penny a step behind them.
Pyrrha sighed deeply. “She chided me.”
“That’s unusual,” Jaune said.
Pyrrha glanced at him. She wasn’t quite able to keep the smile off her face. The fact that there was a matching smile upon Jaune’s face didn’t help in that regard.
A slight snigger escaped her attempts to forestall it, as she found her elbow moving almost independently of her will to give Jaune a slight nudge.
“I feel as though I’ve just missed something,” Penny confessed. “Why is this funny?”
Pyrrha made a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a wince as she looked back at Penny. “It isn’t really, Penny, it’s just that—”
“I was being sarcastic,” Jaune explained. “Because it’s not unusual at all. Pyrrha’s mom is always chiding her — or anyone else, for that matter.”
“Oh,” Penny said. “Oh, I see.” She paused for a moment. “She seemed alright to me. Did I miss something?”
“No, you just hadn’t done anything to upset or disappoint her yet,” Pyrrha said. “My mother is not an ogre, I must admit, she simply has … certain standards that she expects people to live up to. High standards.”
“Oh, so she’s like my father, then?” Penny asked. “Now I understand.”
“Yes,” Pyrrha murmured. “Yes, I suppose you could say that. Not exactly the same, but there are certainly similarities.”
“So what did your mother chide you about?” Jaune asked.
Pyrrha stopped on the stairs. It would be easier to talk about this here, while they were still relatively high up in the arena, with a metal wall between themselves and the crowds on the other side, and very few people with reason to make their way up here to them. Nevertheless, she looked down the stairs, and up them, as she turned to face Jaune, which had the beneficial side effect of meaning that she no longer had her back to Penny, but was turned in profile towards her, so that her new team leader could see at least the side of her face.
Not that she actually looked at either of them. Her eyes turned downwards, towards the metal steps on which she stood.
“It was, as you might think,” she whispered, “about Sunset.”
Now it was Jaune’s turn to sigh. She heard his hands tapping against the metal wall behind him. “Of course it was.”
“Did Sunset go and see her?” Penny asked. “Like you said she should.”
“Yes, she did,” Pyrrha said, and the fact that neither Jaune nor Penny had asked what, precisely, her mother had chided her about with regards to Sunset or, indeed, whether she felt truly chastened or no, made it a little easier for the moment to raise her head a little so that she could Penny’s face and not just her boots. “This morning, before Mother flew up here to see the matches.”
Penny nodded. “And did your mother agree to help her? Can she help her?”
“Very much so, if Sunset wills it,” Pyrrha said. “Mother has offered to make her a mercenary captain.”
“She what?!” Jaune exclaimed.
Penny cocked her head to one side a little. “Would you mind explaining that just a little more?”
“Of course,” Pyrrha said. “Mistral has — had, at least — no army. It has an army now, but that army is very small, and still in training; I’m not even sure how long it will last before people begin to wonder if it was a mistake and forget why they created it in the first place. But, in any case, as I say, Mistral has not, historically, had an army. Even before the Great War, there was no standing army in Mistral, only warriors sworn to the service of the throne or the houses great and small. After the Great War and the Faunus Rebellion, of course, there were huntsmen and huntresses, but still, there was no tradition of huntsmen and huntresses, and the tradition of, well, of private armies I suppose you might call them continues in the plethora of mercenary groups and private security companies who flourish in Mistral, more than in any other kingdom — although some find work in other kingdoms besides Mistral.”
“You mean like SDC security?” Penny asked. “Without the slaves that is.”
“One would hope,” Pyrrha murmured dryly. “Some are close to SDC security, others are more warlike, and others still sit somewhere in between the two; I am afraid there is a spectrum of what kind of work these groups do — and how they go about it.”
“And Sunset’s group?” asked Penny. “What kind of group would she lead?”
“As a new company, without any traditions or customs or identity, that would be for Sunset to determine, as the captain,” Pyrrha said. “That’s … that is part of what would make this a great opportunity for her: the chance to build something from scratch, to make it, to shape it from the ground up, just as the first headmasters of the huntsman academies shaped the schools after the Great War; she would be responsible for determining what this group is, what it does, what it stands for.”
“Wouldn’t your mother have any say in that?” Jaune said. “I mean, Sunset could never afford this by herself, and you said that your mother would give it to Sunset—”
“How can you give something to someone when it doesn’t exist?” Penny inquired. “Sorry to interrupt, Jaune.”
“It’s okay, Penny.”
“Mother would provide the money,” Pyrrha explained. “And the fact that Lady Nikos was supporting the venture would give it credibility from those who would not look twice upon a penniless faunus, with some reputation but no great deeds done in Mistral, not even a Mistralian by birth, attempting to set up an operation with nothing behind it but Sunset’s hopes. It isn’t really something that Sunset could hope to get off the ground by herself. So, I suppose, I should have said not that Mother is giving Sunset a company; rather, she is giving Sunset the opportunity to forge a company, with the backing of the House of Nikos.” She paused. “But I don’t think that Mother would interfere operationally; she trusts Sunset too much for that.” She sucked in a sharp intake of breath. “I think that she would give Sunset her head, at least unless or until Sunset failed dramatically in some fashion.”
“She already has,” Jaune pointed out.
“Not…” Pyrrha paused for a moment. “Not in my mother’s eyes. In Mother’s eyes, she has succeeded absolutely.”
“By saving you?” Penny asked, although it hardly seemed a question at all.
“Yes,” Pyrrha said softly. “By saving me.”
“I suppose … I can understand that,” Penny said softly. The corners of her lips twitched ever so slightly. “I’m glad you’re not dead too.”
Pyrrha could not help the little laugh that skipped out from beneath her lips. “Thank you, Penny.”
She felt a hand upon her shoulder. Jaune’s hand.
“Me too,” Jaune said. “You know, in case that needed saying.”
She ventured to look at him, if only for a moment. Fortunately, he did not look upset; there was no anger in his eyes.
“I know,” she said. “But it never hurts to be reminded.”
“So,” Jaune went on. “Is Sunset going to do it? Take your mother’s offer, become a mercenary?”
“I don’t know,” Pyrrha admitted. “Mother didn’t say that Sunset had accepted, which I suppose probably means that she has asked for time to think it over and hasn’t gotten back to Mother yet.”
“It does seem like a lot of work,” Penny said. “You said it was a big opportunity, and I suppose I can see why, but an opportunity that will take a lot of work all the same. You say that it’s like the first headmasters, but I guess it’s a lot easier to live in a school that someone else built than it is to build one yourself.”
“I think you’re certainly right about that, Penny,” Jaune said. “But Sunset … whatever her faults, Sunset has always been hard-working.” His brow furrowed. “I’m not convinced that this is the right thing for her, though.”
“You don’t?” Penny said, leaning forwards a little from the waist. “Why not?”
“I think that Sunset works better with a tight circle,” Jaune replied. “I think that she’d be fine with a small group of people under her, people she could get to know, people that she liked, a team that she could…” — he waved one hand — “bond with, I guess. New friends, after…” He trailed off for a second. “But a company? A whole bunch of people, how many is that?”
“It would only be small to begin with,” Pyrrha said softly. “In the beginning.”
“Would it?” asked Jaune. “I get that everything has to start somewhere, but even so, a company with your mother’s money and support? Would it really be that small?”
Pyrrha considered it for a second or two. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “It would depend on a number of factors, not least of which the number of potential willing recruits in Mistral and what size Sunset wished to begin with.”
“Even if it started small, it would have to grow,” Jaune said. “Do you think that Sunset could manage twenty people? Fifty? People who were distant from her, who she didn’t or couldn’t know because there were too many people to get to know?”
“Isn’t that what team leaders are for?” Penny said. “Or officers? After all, General Ironwood doesn’t know everyone who serves under him, Professor Ozpin doesn’t deal with every single student—”
“I know that it can be done, but would Sunset want to do that?” Jaune responded. “I don’t know, maybe she would, but even if she did manage to rise to the occasion, still … could your mother really trust her? Could anyone who hired her?”
“None of the people who hired her would know what she did,” Penny pointed out. “Or were you meaning metaphorically?”
“I think…” Pyrrha began, stopping short of saying that she thought Jaune did Sunset wrong in that suggestion, in case he did not wish to hear it.
“I did not think that I had raised a coward.”
Pyrrha frowned. “I think you do her wrong, to suggest that,” she said.
“Do you?” Jaune asked.
“Yes,” Pyrrha said softly. “Yes, I do.”
“You said that Sunset wouldn’t make friends with a large group of people,” Penny pointed out. “But if she wasn’t their friend, then … she only did what she did down in the tunnel because she cared so much about you and Pyrrha and Ruby, so—”
“Penny, I’m not sure that’s very helpful,” Pyrrha murmured. She looked Jaune in the eyes, prepared to see frustration with her in them, anger even, if need be. She did not like the feeling of her mother being right in a critique of her character, but even less did she like the knowledge that she had turned her back on her friend. “Sunset accepted all of Ruby’s accusations, and your anger, she accepted that she had done wrong, she accepted the punishment of being exiled from Beacon — and from all of us who mean so much to her, for whom she did what she did … but she would not do it again, I would stake much upon it. I would stake Mistral, my home that means so much to me, that she would not make the same mistake again, if put in the same or similar position. To suggest that she is unrepentant, no different than she was when she did that thing … it is incorrect.”
Jaune looked at her. Pyrrha waited for his reaction, resting her fingertips upon the wall behind her for support.
“You … you’d really stake Mistral on that?” he asked. “Your own home, your mother, everyone?”
“Yes,” Pyrrha said, though she wished her voice did not sound so brittle as it did. “I believe that Sunset, regretting and regretful, would make a different choice.”
“You trust her?” Jaune asked. “After what she did?”
“After what I have seen and what I have heard,” Pyrrha replied. “I trust her.” She swallowed.
“Don’t—” Jaune began, and then stopped. “Is that what your mother wanted to talk to you about?” he asked. “It is, isn’t it?”
Pyrrha nodded. “She chided me for not standing by Sunset.”
“Even now?” Jaune said.
“Because she thinks that Sunset did the right thing?” Penny asked. “She thinks that you should have … what does she think that you should have done?”
“I think I’d like to know that too,” Jaune whispered.
Pyrrha took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. “Is the point really what my mother thinks I should have done?”
“I guess not,” Jaune admitted. “Do you … what do you think?”
“I … I don’t know,” Pyrrha confessed. “Except that I feel ashamed of myself, that I said so little in that room that night. I waited until Sunset had been banished by Ruby, and then I went out to her, and I … I told her that I loved her and said a fond farewell.”
“I know,” Jaune said. “Ruby knew that you would too; that’s why—”
“Why she tasked me with taking the journal out to Sunset, yes,” Pyrrha murmured. “But if I really cared about Sunset—”
“Are you seriously gonna suggest after all this that you don’t care about Sunset?” asked Jaune, some incredulity creeping into his voice.
“If I did, why did I not speak up…?” Pyrrha faltered, the right word eluding her.
“Speak up in her defence?” Penny suggested.
“No,” Pyrrha said. “No, I could not … Sunset gave no defence, I could not give one on her behalf; but I could, I should, have spoken up for clemency.”
“You mean for Sunset to stay at Beacon,” Jaune said. It was hard for Pyrrha to tell what was in his thoughts, because she could detect so little trace of it in his voice.
“Yes,” Pyrrha said simply.
She saw little point in saying anything else, at least not yet; clemency might be called a virtue more honoured in the breach than in the observation amongst the old blood, but it was a virtue yet and all the more virtuous for being so rarely observed in times of great crisis. Those who did observe it, those who forgave their enemies, those who raised up those who knelt before them, were praised and reputed for it. Yet Pyrrha had conspicuously failed to demonstrate that virtue, either with Sunset or with Cinder — unless you counted not simply killing Cinder where she lay on the ground as clemency, which Pyrrha was not inclined to do in the circumstances.
But Jaune was not a Mistralian, and she could not expect their values to move him, any more than her mother’s words would have brought Jaune to shame if they had been directed his way. She would not persuade him thus, nor did she seek to or need to persuade him. All she wished to do, all that she could do, was present her thoughts, as they were in her mind.
“Because you think she’s changed,” Penny said.
“Because … she is my friend,” Pyrrha said. “And so, being my friend, being bound to my family by tokens and promises between her and my mother, I have certain obligations towards her.”
“What about her obligations to us?” Jaune asked. “What about her obligations to Beacon?”
“That is where the clemency ought to have come, had I been braver,” Pyrrha said.
“It’s alright, Pyrrha,” Penny said, taking Pyrrha’s hand in both of hers. “I wasn’t very brave either. When Sunset confessed, when she said why she’d done it, I wanted to reach out to her, but … I was scared of Ruby.”
“You shouldn’t have been,” Jaune said, his voice a little hoarse. “Ruby … Ruby wouldn’t have blamed you, or been angry with you. She sent Pyrrha out to say goodbye, remember; she wouldn’t have had any problem with you wanting to reach out.” He looked at his hand for a second. “I’m not sure that you could have persuaded her to show mercy, though; at least … hasn’t Sunset already been shown mercy? She isn’t going to jail, she isn’t having everyone know what she did, she’s still a hero here in Vale in spite of everything, she’s got so many people on her side: Councillor Emerald, Professor Ozpin. Isn’t that enough? Isn’t that mercy?”
“Sunset and Ruby would doubtless agree on that,” Pyrrha murmured. “But nevertheless…”
“Do you … do you think Ruby did the wrong thing?” asked Jaune.
“No,” Pyrrha said. “Ruby acted perfectly correctly, according to the values of a huntress.”
“Except that Professor Ozpin is a huntsman too,” Penny pointed out.
“Ozpin is too comfortable in the dark,” Jaune said, his voice sharpening. “It might be necessary to step there, but it’s almost as if he likes it there better than in the light.” He clenched his jaw for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice had softened once more. “So … Pyrrha, I don’t … if you think that Ruby did the right thing, then, I don’t get it, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that, although Ruby acted correctly, I ought to have urged her towards mercy nonetheless,” Pyrrha said.
“Right,” Jaune murmured. “I see.” He bowed his head and made a motion as if to fold his arms across his chest, although he did not; instead, he let them fall back down to his sides again. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he said.
Pyrrha did not respond to that. She didn’t want to interrupt him, in case he had more to say.
“You really trust her?” he asked. “Really?”
“Yes,” Pyrrha replied. “Strange though it might seem.”
“You were always closer to her than either of us,” Jaune muttered. “That isn’t me trying to act like I could see this coming or anything like that, I’m just—”
“I know,” Pyrrha assured him. “And you are right. We were … you’re right.”
“So your mother,” Jaune said. “She told you that you should have stuck up for Sunset?”
“Amongst other things,” Pyrrha admitted. “She told me that I should have left Beacon alongside her rather than let her leave alone, believing herself forsaken. She asked me to leave Beacon and join with Sunset in the work of her new company.”
“And will you?”
“No,” Pyrrha said at once. “No, I will not. I don’t want to leave you.”
Jaune managed to smile out of one side of his mouth. “Thanks for not asking me to leave with you.”
“Jaune,” Pyrrha said softly, her voice a mere caress. She wished to reach out to him, but feared that now was not the moment and he would not appreciate it. “I would not do that to you. I know that you would not wish it, and I would not force you to … I wouldn’t force any such thing on me. Please, tell me that you didn’t think I would.”
“I know,” Jaune said. “Of course I know. I suppose I shouldn’t have asked if you were leaving, I’m sorry about that, I just—”
“No, it was a fair question,” Pyrrha conceded. “I had just brought the subject up.”
“But if you were going to go, you would have mentioned it sooner, I think,” Jaune said. “I mean, I think that now, having actually thought about it. You wouldn’t have waited until we got here by such a winding road.”
“I would like to think not, at least,” Pyrrha said. “No, I cannot — will not — go with Sunset, and I told Mother so.”
“Would you take her back to Beacon?” asked Jaune.
“Ruby will not have that,” Pyrrha pointed out.
“But would you?” asked Jaune. “If you could?”
“I would not do that to you, either,” Pyrrha said.
“I’m asking you what you think,” Jaune insisted.
“And what I think is that you are more hurt by what Sunset did than you are, for love of me, displaying,” Pyrrha replied. “And I think that I would be truly taking you for granted if I trespassed upon that more than I already have.” She paused. “Mother called me a coward, and the insult — the truth I must confess I felt in the insult — moved me to honesty as much as valour. I should have spoken for mercy for Sunset, and I will speak so now, to you. But I will not impose mercy upon you that you do not feel, if you cannot show it, cannot forgive, then that is your right. I have no right of mine to demand it from you on Sunset’s behalf. That is what I think, truly.”
Jaune nodded. “Is this … is this our first fight?”
Pyrrha blinked. “Are we fighting?”
“No, I guess not,” Jaune said. “But I don’t think I want to have a real fight.”
“Nor I,” Pyrrha said. “And if I have upset you—”
“No,” Jaune said. “I don’t agree with you, and I’m not sure that I completely get what you’re saying but … the fact that I can’t trust her so easily doesn’t mean that you can’t ask me to, and the fact that I don’t feel the same way about her as you do doesn’t mean that you can’t feel it, just so long as you don’t ask me to do or feel the same as you.”
“It’s a pity that you can’t,” Penny said. “Forgive her, I mean.”
Jaune glanced at her. “Can you?”
Penny hesitated. “I … never really felt angry at her,” she admitted. “So … I’m not sure that you can forgive someone if you were never angry at them.”
“You probably can; it’s just not as…” Jaune trailed off. “Not that it matters because I can’t. Not yet. I’m not angry at her anymore, but that doesn’t mean that I could just accept things going back to the way they were, any more than Ruby could. I’m just not there yet, if I ever will be.”
“I understand,” Pyrrha said softly. “And yet I feel the need to…” 'Make it up to her' sounded too strong, even to her ears. “To make some recompense to Sunset for my silence.”
“Like what?” asked Penny.
“I … I will do what my mother reminds me that I ought to have done,” Pyrrha said. “And urge Ruby towards mercy.”
“The first set of matches are completed,” Dove said.
“Yeah?” Ruby asked in a quiet voice. She was sat in the window seat, half turned towards the window, half with her back to it, sitting on her red cape, with one foot up, and Crescent Rose — in its short, carbine configuration — resting upon her lap, just in case she needed it. From where she sat, she could see the door into the dorm room, as well as being able to see out the window.
Not that there would be anything in particular to see from out the window, but, you know, it was a view.
A view of the courtyard outside, with people wandering either to the fairgrounds or up towards the skydocks.
More people were coming back from the skydocks than back to them at the moment, which kind of made sense if what Dove was saying was right, that the first set of matches was over. People might be taking a break, or maybe their favourite had lost and they weren’t interested in sitting up in the colosseum any more.
“So … that’s it?” Amber asked. “They’re done for the day?”
“No,” Dove said. “No, it’s just that, of the eight fighters who started the day off, four of them have been eliminated. There are still two more rounds to go today: semi-finals and then finals.”
“Oh,” Amber said. “Yes, I see.”
Ruby glanced down at Crescent Rose in her lap. “So who won, then?”
Dove was sitting on Sunset’s bed — what had been Sunset’s bed; she supposed that it would be more accurate to call it Penny’s bed now — with his scroll out, although there was also a book resting on his lap. Amber was on the other side of the room, by the wardrobe, sitting on the floor with her knees up, sketching something on a pad.
Dove glanced down at his scroll again. “Weiss Schnee defeated Neon Katt, Pyrrha defeated Arslan Altan, Rainbow Dash beat Sun Wukong—”
“And Yang’s the last one through, right?” Ruby asked, because with those four matches, that would mean that her opponent would be … someone from Shade? Yeah, Team UMBR, and there was no way that a Shade student could ever beat Yang.
Dove winced. “I’m sorry, Ruby, Yang … was eliminated.”
“What?” Ruby squawked, looking up, and sitting up a little straighter as well. “Seriously? Yang was … Yang lost?!”
That was… she could hardly believe it. She couldn’t believe it at all. Yang didn’t lose fights, especially not one-on-one fights; she might … okay, so some people could take her out, if she’d been drawn against Pyrrha in the matches, then Ruby would have believed that, maybe even Rainbow Dash, but against a Shade student, seriously?
“That’s what it says here,” Dove murmured.
“But how?” Ruby demanded.
“I don’t know; I wasn’t at the match,” Dove reminded her.
“Okay, but doesn’t it say what happened?” asked Ruby.
Dove glanced down at his scroll again. “Let me scroll down a little, maybe the livestream…” His eyebrows rose. “Huh. Apparently her opponent, Umber Gorgoneion, used a semblance that froze Yang in place, allowing Umber to throw her out of the ring.”
Ruby blinked her silver eyes more than once. “Her semblance just … just froze Yang? Is that what it says?”
“That’s all that it says,” Dove said. “I don’t have any more details.”
Ruby leaned her head back against the window frame with a soft thud. “Huh,” she muttered. “Poor Yang. Getting beaten just because your opponent had a semblance that you couldn’t respond to.”
“But good for Pyrrha, isn’t it?” Amber asked. “I mean, she won, so she’s through to the semi-finals, right?”
“That’s right,” Dove said. “There’s going to be a break to allow their auras to recharge somewhat, and then the semi-finals will be fought, and then there will be another break, and the final two contenders will meet in the final.”
“Yeah, it’s great for Pyrrha,” Ruby muttered. “I mean, it’s no less than everybody knew was coming; it’s not like it’s a big surprise. But poor Yang, though, I really thought that she’d at least make it through to the semi-finals. Maybe I should call her. You know, I think I will; I… I couldn’t watch the match, but I’ll let her know that…”
I’ll let her know that I know she lost.
Is she really going to want to know that?
But when else am I going to tell her that I’m sorry? After the tournament is over and Pyrrha’s won and everyone’s celebrating — assuming that we’re not in the middle of a grimm attack on Vale by then.
But assuming that, assuming that there isn’t a big battle and we’re all in it, even if everyone else is celebrating, is Yang going to be celebrating?
Yeah, I think she will, because Yang’s a good sport, and she wouldn’t want to seem like she was sulking.
Will I be celebrating?
Will I be celebrating Pyrrha’s victory?
Even to ask the question seemed mean, but Ruby did ask it nevertheless, at least in the privacy of her own head, because … because she wasn’t in much of a mood for celebration at the moment. And that had nothing to do with Pyrrha — well, okay, maybe it had a little bit to do with Pyrrha — but mostly, it had to do with Ruby.
Or it had to do with the world around Ruby. Or both. Ruby wasn’t really sure how to define it, except that she didn’t feel happy.
Which sounded like a stupid thing to say, but, you know, it was how she felt; or at least, it was the best way that she could explain how she felt: she didn’t feel happy.
Now, some might say that that was because Ruby didn’t have anything to feel happy about, but she hadn’t felt very happy hearing that Pyrrha had won her match and would be progressing on. Would she have felt happy if Dove had told her that Yang had also won her match and would be a semi-finalist? She’d felt shocked when he told her that Yang had lost, but, if she’d found out that she’d won, would that have made her happy?
I would have been happy for Yang, sure.
I hope.
Why didn’t she feel happy? She had gotten her way, for once; she had been listened to, treated with respect by Sunset, who had obeyed her, and done what Ruby wanted without precondition or interference; she had expelled a shadow from Beacon and upheld the values of a huntress. So why…?
Maybe happiness was the wrong word. Maybe she oughtn’t to be happy that she’d found out that her team leader and her friend had been lying to her for weeks about something heinous that she’d done. No, she definitely wasn’t happy about that, but … maybe it would be better to ask why Ruby didn’t feel satisfied.
She’d won. She’d cast Sunset out; she had banished wickedness from the grounds of Beacon. So why didn’t she feel satisfied?
Because she didn’t feel satisfied, not one bit. Her triumph didn’t elate her at all; it didn’t lift her up, fill her up … anything else up. Nothing was up; it was all … flat inside. Like … when you were hungry, but you didn’t want to eat. You weren’t full, but at the same time, nothing actually seemed good to you, not even the stuff that you normally loved.
Like Dad on his bad days, which were a lot less frequent now than they used to be, most of the time, he could even get through Mom’s birthday or their anniversary just fine, but some days, it would just come back to him, and he would go a bit … flat.
Like how Ruby felt right now.
Why did she feel this way, after what she’d done?
I should feel satisfied, shouldn’t I?
Maybe Professor Goodwitch would understand why she was feeling like this, but Ruby could hardly go and see her now; she had to stay and take care of Amber — whom she couldn’t drag down to see Professor Goodwitch, if only because it would be really awkward to talk to the professor about her feelings with Amber and Dove right there.
Which meant that Ruby was left to brood, and to feel flat, while she waited for the day to end and … and for her to get the chance to leave Amber with someone else while she went and talked to Professor Goodwitch.
That is, if there wasn’t a battle raging by then.
I’ll call Yang. If I couldn’t be there to watch her fight, then I can at least let her know that I’m sorry she didn’t win.
Ruby shuffled and shifted in her seat, reaching around behind her, arching her back like a seal breaching the water, as she got out her scroll. She kept one hand on Crescent Rose so as not to drop it on the floor, and she managed to open up her scroll and find Yang’s number one with one hand.
She tapped Yang’s face on the screen with her thumb, a moment before Yang’s actual face filled up the screen.
“Ruby!” Yang said loudly. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“I…” Ruby hesitated for a second. “I know that … I’m sorry that you didn’t make it to the next round.”
Yang sighed. “Thanks, Ruby. I mean, at the end of the day, it’s not the biggest deal in Remnant, but, thanks anyway. I guess I’m kinda glad that you weren’t here to see me get humiliated.”
“I’m sure you weren’t humiliated,” Ruby said. “Dove said it was something to do with her semblance.”
“Yeah, froze me completely, couldn’t do anything,” Yang muttered. “Good luck to Pyrrha or Weiss if they have to deal with that next round. I don’t know, maybe Umber Gorgoneion will be the Vytal champion, wouldn’t that be a surprise for everyone?”
“I guess it would be a shock,” Ruby said. “Especially for all those people who thought that Pyrrha would be a shoo-in to take the title.”
Yang’s purple eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Ruby said. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you asking me that? You’re the one who just … I mean, I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine,” Yang said, with no sign that her eyes were going to widen back to their normal size again soon. “You sound … I don’t know, but what’s up?”
“Nothing!” Ruby insisted. “Nothing is up, I’m fine, I…”
“Ruby,” Yang said, leaning in so that her face was closer to the screen.
“I…” Ruby glanced out of the window, at the people moving to and fro across the courtyard, most of them not students, just tourists, families, people with balloons or cotton candy, people in costumes. “I’m just feeling a little bit … I don’t feel as though I’ve got a lot of enthusiasm right now.”
Yang’s eyes returned to a normal size, even as the rest of her features softened before Ruby’s eyes, softened like her voice as she said, “Because of what happened last night?”
“Yeah,” Ruby said quickly, because it wasn’t a total lie — this did all tie back to what had happened last night, after all — and because, to be honest, she was getting a little anxious to ditch this whole conversation right now in favour of, well, almost anything else. She was starting to regret calling.
This was supposed to be about Yang, not about how I feel.
“Yeah,” she repeated. “Yeah, it’s … it’s all because of that.”
“Oh, Ruby,” Yang sighed. “I’m sorry, and you still thought about how I was doing after this stupid fight … you’re the best, you really are; you’ve got such a good heart.”
Ruby laughed nervously. “Well, you know… I try. So, are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be fine!” Yang assured her. “So I’m out of the tournament, big whoop, what about you? Do you want me to come down there?”
“No,” Ruby said. “No, it’s fine, I … I’ll be okay. You want to stay up there and watch the other matches, right?”
“Well, I would like to see Pyrrha or Weiss find a way to put Miss Wouldn’t-Shake-My-Hand in her place, yeah,” Yang admitted. “But if you need me—”
“I’ll be okay,” Ruby insisted. “There’s nothing that you can help me with down here; I just need … time, I hope.”
Yang nodded slowly. “I hope so too. I’ll see you soon, sis.”
“Yeah,” Ruby said. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m sorry you’re not,” Yang replied.
“Thanks,” Ruby replied. “But I’ll get there. Enjoy the rest of the day!” she hung up and let out a sigh.
“And there’s…” Dove began. He glanced down at his scroll and put it down beside him. “And there’s nothing that I, that either of us can do to help?”
Ruby looked at him as she repeated her twists and turns and arches of her back to put her scroll away. “Help with what?”
“With the fact that you’re not okay,” Dove said. “You do realise that we could both hear you? You weren’t talking privately.” He paused. “Although when I say that, perhaps I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”
“It’s fine,” Ruby said, waving one arm. She tried to laugh it off, or at least chuckle, but she couldn’t really seem to get one out when she needed it. “It’s … I just … I don’t know. I don’t know, and because I don’t know, I don’t see how anyone can really help me.”
“But help you with what?” Dove asked. “Maybe we could help if we understood the problem. I, for one, would like to help, if I could. I…” He looked down at his book. “I’ve always admired you, Ruby.”
Ruby stared at him. “You … really?”
Dove nodded. “Is that so strange, so hard to believe?”
Kinda, yeah, Ruby thought. “I mean…” Her mouth twisted into several shapes, forming words unspoken before, after a moment or three, she spoke a single word: “Why?”
“Yes,” Amber murmured. “Why?”
Dove didn’t acknowledge Amber. For once, he kept his eyes on Ruby. “I wouldn’t have given my copy of The Song of Olivia to just anyone,” he said, “although admittedly, I mainly knew you from Yang’s stories, but I trusted Yang, I believed the stories, I believed what she said about you because it matched what I saw — and what I’ve seen since … since we started to spend more time together, since Amber and everything. You have … Yang said that you wanted to be like the heroes in the books, but the truth is that you’re nothing like them because they were all … failures, at some point. They all let their pride, their love, their vanity, their wrath, they all had something in them that got the better of them at some point, usually with dire consequences, but you … you don’t have that, you … you’re better than they are because you aren’t…” He ran one hand through his sandy hair. “I’m trying to work out how to say it.”
“Ruby doesn’t care,” Amber said. “Ruby does what she thinks is right, no matter who she hurts.”
Now Dove looked at Amber. “That…” he said. “That’s true, but I mean it as a compliment—”
“Is it?” Ruby asked, because it sounded like a way of saying she was heartless.
“Yes,” Dove said. “I mean, isn’t that what you were trying to be? Isn’t that what a huntsman or a huntress is supposed to be?”
“Is it?” Ruby snapped. “Is it really? Is this what we’re all supposed to be trying to become? If that’s true, if everyone here is supposed to be trying to be like me, then why am I the only one who’s actually doing it? If I’m the example that everyone should be aspiring to, then why does everybody treat me like I’m the problem?!” She breathed heavily, in and out, chest rising and falling. “I—”
“You don’t have to apologise,” Dove said quickly. Slowly, he started to get to his feet. “I think that we may have just found the problem.”
Ruby bowed her head, her chin resting on her chest. “Do you really believe that? What you said?”
“Which part?”
“About … about me being what a huntress is supposed to be,” Ruby murmured.
“I do,” Dove replied. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. Why do you think I’m leaving Beacon?”
“I thought it was because you were in love with Amber?” Who doesn’t seem to think that I’m as great as you do, at least not anymore. Ruby supposed that she couldn’t be too surprised at that; she had been a lot closer to Sunset than she was to Ruby, although it was a little disappointing that a Maiden, someone who was supposed to embody goodness and virtue, couldn’t see things her way.
Then again, nobody else can either, so why should I be surprised?
Maybe that was being a little too hard on Amber, who after all wasn’t a huntress; she was a Maiden, but Maidens weren’t supposed to be super-huntresses, they were meant to … well, in the story, they had helped the old man by being nice, and helpful, and not giving up on the old man to teach him life lessons.
So, Ruby guessed that, really, by not giving up on Sunset … or at least not condemning Sunset, then Amber was living up to what it meant to be a Maiden after all.
That excused her, at least.
“That’s right,” Dove said. “That is why, that … that’s why I can’t be a huntsman. Why I could never be a huntsman, in truth. I can’t put my love for Amber aside to … to do my duty. Amber will always have the first claim upon my heart, upon my actions. And so, that being the case, I could never be a good huntsman, and so … the only answer is to come away.”
Ruby chewed on her lip for a moment. “That … that all sounds nice, Dove, that sounds really nice, especially the part about me.” She looked at him, looking up into his face as he walked around Jaune’s bed to stand closer to her. “I really … thanks, Dove, that was nice to hear, but … if only people who could be like me could be or should be huntsmen or huntresses, then I feel like I’d be at this big school by myself.”
“That’s not your fault,” Dove told her.
“No, I know,” Ruby murmured. “But…” She sighed. “Professor Ozpin didn’t want to let Sunset go.”
“Didn’t he?” Amber asked.
“No,” Ruby answered. “He … he wasn’t happy when I told him what I’d done, that Sunset was gone. He sent Professor Goodwith out into Vale to find her and tell her that…”
Dove tilted his head a little. “Tell her what?”
“That he still needed her, to do work for him,” Ruby said. “Jobs around the other Maidens, keeping them safe from people who might want to hurt them, the way that Cinder hurt Amber.”
“From this Salem person,” Dove said.
“Right, exactly, from Salem,” Ruby agreed. “The point is that Professor Ozpin is the headmaster of this school, he’s supposed to be the ideal, he’s supposed to be the kind of huntsman that we’re all striving to become, and yet, even he thought that it was more important to have Sunset around in case she was useful to him than it was to stand up for the values that this school is supposed to teach and be a symbol of. So yeah, Sunset’s gone, and she isn’t coming back, and I … I did that, I got her out, but … it feels like all I’ve done is … all I’ve done is opened my eyes to the fact that this whole school is…” rotten. To the core, even. “It’s all just as flawed as those heroes in the books, and so is Professor Ozpin. In this whole school, there isn’t anyone who cares about the values that ought to guide us.”
“There’s you,” Dove reminded her.
“A fifteen-year-old kid who shouldn’t even be in this school yet, what does that say?” Ruby asked him.
Maybe it means that Sunset isn’t the one who doesn’t belong at Beacon, maybe…
That was an uncomfortable thought, particularly uncomfortable because it felt like failure, like an admission of wrongness. But did it have to be? Was it really? If she were to go because nobody thought like her, that still wouldn’t make the way that she thought wrong.
It would just make very few people right.
And honestly, could she really say that she was happy here?
Could she really say that she was looking forward to three more years here, where even the headmaster thought that she was a fool?
If I have no friends but duty and Crescent Rose, then … why not?
“Ruby?” Dove asked.
Ruby smiled, although it was probably a kind of sad smile, all things considered. “Dove,” she said softly. “I … I’m sorry that we didn’t find each other in the Emerald Forest.”
Dove blinked. “That … that would have been something, maybe. I doubt I could have kept up with you.”
“I’m sure you would have done fine,” Ruby assured him. “But, could you give me a second, please?”
Dove looked around the room. “Um—”
Ruby managed to chuckle a little bit. “Yeah, I … I’m just going to call a couple of people, if that’s okay.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Dove said, and he retreated across the room, close to where Amber sat on the floor. He craned his neck a little to get a better look at her drawing.
“Who are you calling?” Amber asked. “Is it Pyrrha?”
“No,” Ruby said. “No, these are a couple of old friends.”
She got out her scroll again, grunting with irritation at the contortions of her body necessary to get it out from behind her, but ultimately, she just didn’t feel like getting up; the seat at the window was otherwise too comfortable to leave it just to make a call. And besides, she managed to get her scroll out anyway, even if it did take just a bit of huffing and puffing.
The first call that she made — grateful that there was a break in the action so that she wouldn’t be disturbing anyone who might be watching the tournament — was to Leaf.
She took a couple of seconds to answer. In fact, she took longer than that; it must have been more than ten seconds, maybe fifteen or twenty seconds ticking by with agonising slowness as Ruby stared down at the green calling icon on her scroll, waiting for Leaf to pick up. If she didn’t pick up … well, Ruby could make this decision without her input, but she would like to know the answer to her question first.
Leaf picked up, even if it was a little slower than Ruby would have liked. “Ruby, hey!” Leaf called cheerily. “Hey, I was … not expecting to get a call from you today; I thought you’d be up in the Amity Arena watching Pyrrha in the finals.”
“No, I … I’ve got some stuff to do,” Ruby muttered. “But, anyway, hi, Leaf, how are you doing? How’s Atlas?”
“Atlas is amazing, and I am living my best life!” Leaf cried. “I’ve got my own apartment! I’ve got a roommate — Hey, Veil, this is Ruby Rose from Team Sapphire, say hi!”
“Hi, Ruby Rose!” the dark-skinned girl in whose direction Leaf turned the scroll waved to her. “Nice shooting in that first-round match.”
“Thank you,” Ruby murmured. That first round seemed so long ago now, even though it had only been two days, it still felt as though it might as well have happened to a completely different person.
No, no, it happened to the same person, but things hadn’t become … crystalised for her in the same way.
“I’ve got a job, I’m making money, I’ve got friends — although a lot of them have ditched me to go to Vale and watch the tournament, and I can’t go with them because I haven’t made that much money yet, but anyway, this place … this place has got my stuff together, and I would say something other than stuff if you weren’t fifteen.” She grinned. “Coming here was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“But it didn’t happen to you,” Ruby reminded her. “You did it. You went out and you made it happen.”
“You’re right, aren’t you?” Leaf said. “You are absolutely right, I did this, for me—”
“With help,” Veil reminded her from off-screen.
“Yes, yes, with a lot of help from Blake and Rainbow Dash and from Sunset too for setting me up with Blake and Rainbow Dash,” Leaf said. “Hey, is Sunset doing okay, she’s not letting all that crap they’ve been saying about her get her down, is she?”
Ruby reminded herself that she couldn’t tell Leaf the truth. “She … she isn’t having the best time today.”
Leaf groaned. “Can I speak to her?”
“No,” Ruby said. “She’s—”
“Oh, right, yeah, she’s going on that mission, isn’t she?” Leaf said. “Right, well, tell her from … you know what, no, when she gets back, I’ll call her, tell her not to let this stuff grind her down.”
Ruby smiled tightly. “I’m sure she’d like that. You seem really happy.”
“I am,” Leaf said. “This city … at some point, I’m sure it’ll get boring and normal, but at the moment, I’m still at that point where everyday I go outside and I’m just so buzzed at the reminder that yeah, I really am here. I’m here, and everything is coming up roses.”
I remember when Beacon felt like that. “That … that’s a great feeling, right?” Ruby said. “Hang onto that, for as long as you can.”
“I will,” Leaf said, “I definitely will.” She paused. “Hey, Ruby, are you okay?”
“Yeah!” Ruby said, a bit too loudly and a little too enthusiastically. “I’m fine, I just … I need to ask you something, okay?”
“Shoot, what is it?”
“When did you decide to … no, actually, what was it that made you decide to run away to Atlas the way you did?”
Leaf’s eyebrows rose for a moment. Her squirrel ears drooped down. “That’s not a question that I was expecting to get asked today,” she said.
“Sorry,” Ruby murmured. “I just … you don’t have to answer, I just—”
“No, it’s fine, I … I guess you wouldn’t have asked now just for the whatever, so…” Leaf trailed off for a second, then another, then a third after that. “I guess,” she said, “I just … I think it was all Angie’s fault.”
“'Angie'?”
“Angela, my stepsister,” Leaf explained. “She’s going to Mistral over the winter; Daniel — my stepdad, in case you don’t remember — bought her a trip to celebrate her graduation and her college acceptance.”
“That’s a nice present,” Ruby said.
“Prices are cheap right after the Vytal Festival 'cause a lot of people aren’t taking holidays,” Leaf said. “But yeah, you’re right, it was a nice present. You could hear her shrieking about it all over the house.” She smiled wryly. “ She’s a year younger than I am, and she’s already going places — literally, she’s going to Mistral this winter — but also metaphorically. That’s right, isn’t it, metaphorically?”
“I think so,” Ruby said.
“And she knows it,” Leaf went on. “Or she knew it, anyway, and she was being so, so annoying about it, I wanted to take that ticket and rip it in half — only Mom would have got mad at me, and … I would have deserved it, so I didn’t do that, and I didn’t punch her on the nose, I just … and she said ‘how does it feel knowing your mom and my dad are going to be supporting you for the rest of your life?’ And, as much as I hated her … I had to admit she was right. So long as I stayed around here, around there, so long as I stayed in Vale maybe, knowing that … that as much as Mom ragged on me and as much as Daniel huffed about it, there would always be a place to go back to … I would always end up back there; whatever I tried to do, it wouldn’t be enough, the temptation would … would be too much to do the easy thing, to give up. That’s when I realised that if I wanted to make a change that would stick, then it would need to be a big change, like really big, like so big that I couldn’t go back like … like putting an ocean between me and Mom … or stealing from Daniel.” She grinned. “And so I decided to leave. And I picked Atlas because, you know, all the cool stuff seems to be made in Atlas.”
“And it’s where her favourite books are set!” Veil shouted from off-screen.
“I was joking when I told you that!” Leaf turned her head away to yell back at her, before returning her attention to Ruby. “So… yeah, that’s why. Did that answer your question? Did that … help in any way?”
Ruby nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I think it really did.” Her situation wasn’t quite the same as Leaf’s, but the same principle applied: to make a change, to change your life, sometimes, it had to be a big change.
Sometimes, you had to cross the ocean, as not only Leaf had found out, but Penny too.
Penny…
Penny who might not want Ruby to go.
But Penny at the same time who would understand, surely, if Ruby felt the same desire for freedom and fulfilment as Penny felt herself, who couldn’t deny Ruby the same freedom for which she had struggled for so long.
Small changes don’t take; it’s too easy for things to revert back to the way they were before. Which is why you have to make a big change.
But not steal from anyone; that wouldn’t be right.
“Thanks, Leaf,” she said. “You’ve been a really big help.”
“Any time, I guess,” Leaf said.
“I’ll let you get back to watching the tournament,” Ruby said. “Who are you rooting for?”
“Rainbow Dash, obviously!” Leaf cried. She raised one fist in the air. “Atlas!”
Ruby chuckled. “Have fun,” she said. “Bye, Leaf.” She hung up.
“Are you … leaving?” Dove asked. “Leaving Beacon?”
Ruby lowered her scroll and twisted around in her seat to look at him — and Amber — both of them watching her. Amber was wary, maybe because she was worried about Salem’s other agents at Beacon — although there had been no one coming to the door, no sign of Bon Bon, and General Ironwood’s people were taking care of Tempest Shadow right now — and Ruby supposed that after what she’d been through, Amber had a right to be a little bit anxious. Dove didn’t look wary, though, Dove just looked surprised.
“I … I’m thinking about it,” Ruby admitted.
“I … I see,” Dove murmured. “Well, I suppose I can’t really criticise, can I? But I’m a little surprised, I … I would have thought that you’d be the last person to decide to do that.”
“I thought that too,” Ruby whispered. “I never imagined, when I got the chance to go here, that I’d be dropping out after just one year. But being a huntress … being a huntress was my dream, but it seems like my dream doesn’t match the reality of what other people think that being a huntress is, or should be. And so, while I haven’t made up my mind yet, it’s something that I’m thinking about.”
“But what would you do?” asked Dove. “Where would you go?”
“I’ve been offered a job by the head of Starhead Industries,” Ruby said. “The plan was to wait until graduation, but I’m hoping that Miss Rockshaw will let me start early. She’s like me, someone who believes in…” She let out a slightly bitter laugh. “In the true values of a huntress, or at least what I thought those were, even if Professor Ozpin doesn’t agree with me.”
“Is she the next person you’re going to call?” inquired Dove. “Miss Rockshaw of Starhead Industries, to make sure you have a job to go to before you drop out?”
“That would be a smart thing to make sure of, wouldn’t it, but no,” Ruby said. “No, there’s someone else that I want to call.”
Dove nodded. “I’m sorry that you feel as though it’s come to this.”
Ruby shrugged. “It is what it is,” she said. “Or at least it will be, if that’s what I decide. But it’s no fun being an outsider, and, when something that you’re part of doesn’t reflect you and what you believe, then eventually, it’s better to come away, like Blake, and find somewhere that suits you better.”
“You could try a different academy?” Dove suggested.
Ruby’s mouth twisted in distaste. “Atlas, taking orders from General Ironwood — I mean, he seems to mean well, but I don’t want to be at someone’s beck and call like that, yes sir, no sir. If I wanted to let someone else tell me what to think, I’d accept that Professor Ozpin was right and make my peace with it. Haven? No, I … Pyrrha’s values work for her, and while we have our differences, she’s a pretty nice person, I can see why … but if those are Mistralian values, then they’re not for me. And as for Shade? Only the strong survive, the tough, leave the weak behind, no. No, that’s not who I am, either. There isn’t an academy that fits me.”
“You say that you haven’t made your decision,” Dove said. “But it sounds as if you have.”
“Well, I haven’t,” Ruby insisted. “Not completely, at least. I still … there’s someone else that I need to talk to.”
“Of course,” Dove said. “Go ahead.”
Ruby nodded before she turned away from him and returned her attention back to her scroll, running her finger down the screen as she searched through her contacts, moving from the Ls to the Js.
She lightly tapped the picture of Juturna and settled back, anticipating another long-ish wait for her to pick up.
Instead, Juturna answered very quickly, after just a second had gone by. “Yo, Ruby!” she shouted. “What are you doing calling me on a Vytal day?” She moved her head closer to the screen, shifting it from side to side as though she were trying to see around Ruby. “That does not look like the Amity Colosseum.”
“It isn’t,” Ruby said. “I’m in our dorm room.”
“Why?” Juturna demanded. “Isn’t there a party going on right outside your window? Isn’t there a tournament going on right above your roof, what are you stuck inside for like some sort of shut-in nerd? Or Camilla.” Juturna paused, her posture going rigid like she’d been frozen, like Yang by that other girl’s semblance. When Juturna spoke again, leaning so close into the screen that Ruby could see her teeth, her voice was a hushed whisper. “Every time I say something like that, I worry she’s going to appear behind me, but seriously, that girl needs to get out more. I mean, have you seen how gorgeous she is? She should be flaunting that!”
“Maybe she’s not interested,” Ruby suggested. “In guys or girls.”
“I know that she’s not interested in guys; she’s only interested in clueless morons,” Juturna said. “But it’s not about going out trying to hook up; it’s about being seen and feeling good for the way that people see you. I really think that if she knew how beautiful she looked to other people, she would have a lot more confidence in herself.” She smiled. “But you didn’t call me to talk about Camilla, did you? Or did you?”
“No,” Ruby admitted. “No, I didn’t. Uh, hi Juturna, you didn’t give me a chance to say that.”
“Well, you’ve said it now, so that’s all good, yeah?” Juturna responded. “So, Pyrrha is through to the semi-finals huh, how does that feel?”
“Was there ever a doubt?” asked Ruby.
“I’d say not, but one of Turnus’ guys — Lausus, really nice, kind of cute — put a load of money on Pyrrha and Sunset losing the doubles round yesterday,” Juturna said. “Although that was mainly because the odds were pretty good, what with it being a longshot and all.”
“That’s … unfortunate,” Ruby said. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Yeah, it’ll all be fine,” Juturna assured her. “He and Turnus have come to an arrangement.”
“That’s good,” Ruby said softly. “Listen, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“What? No,” Juturna said. “No, I’m just chilling out until the semi-final matches start.”
“Alone?” Ruby asked.
“Yeah, I was watching the matches with Bro and Camilla, but since there’s a break, Camilla is preparing a room for pr— for a house guest. We have a house guest who arrived to stay with us, and Camilla is making sure that he’s all settled in. And my brother is making dinner.”
“Already?”
“Yeah, it’s nearly dinner time here,” Juturna said. “Especially since you don’t want to be cooking when the match is on.”
“That’s a good point,” Ruby murmured. “Turnus cooks? Don’t you have servants to do that? Pyrrha had servants to do all her cooking.”
“Yeah, we don’t have any household servants,” Juturna explained. “The house is full of guys, but we don’t have any maids or domestics or anything. We’ve got a couple of robots to do the dusting and the vacuuming, but Turnus actually cooks for himself. And us. When he goes out on a job, he leaves me meals in the fridge. Ooh, except that he won’t have to because I’ve got huge news: I’m going to be a robot pilot!”
“Really?” Ruby asked, sitting up a little. “What kind of robots?”
“Those big Atlesian mechs!” Juturna cried, eyes bright with excitement. “Turnus has a couple of them on order from the SDC, and I’m going to get to pilot one of them! Isn’t that awesome? I’m going to be one of the gang, a real Rutulian, part of the company as well as the family.”
“That is awesome!” Ruby whispered, a smile spreading out across her face. “Congratulations, Juturna, that’s incredible! That’s just what you wanted, isn’t it? How did you persuade them to let you? I thought they were too overprotective.”
“I mean, they are putting all that armour between me and danger,” Juturna said.
“Yeah, but still,” Ruby said. “How did you pull that off?”
“That’s the best part: I didn’t have to!” Juturna said. “It was all Camilla’s idea.”
“It was?” Ruby demanded. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Juturna said. “It was like … she said that she thought it would be a pretty safe thing for me to do, and so, if I wanted to help out, I could do that. I can’t wait for it to get here. I think I’m going to paint it in tiger stripes.”
Ruby giggled. “You should totally do that,” she said. “It’s great that they’re starting to let you spread your wings. You’re really lucky.”
Juturna cocked her head to one side. “You said that in a very meaningful way.”
Ruby sighed. “Yeah, I guess I did, didn’t I?”
“So?” Juturna urged. “What’s up? Spill it!”
“I … I could use some advice, I guess,” Ruby said. “Or maybe just someone who will listen to me. I’m thinking about leaving Beacon.”
Juturna’s blue eyes widened, which was impressive because she had pretty big eyes already. “And you want to know what I think?”
“Yeah,” Ruby said. “Yeah, I think I do.”
Juturna was silent for a moment before she said, “Hang on a second.” It was clear that she’d got up and was moving through the house, because what Ruby could see behind her was changing, moving along as Juturna moved along, holding the scroll in front of her. “Turnus!” she shouted. “TURNUS!”
“I don’t—”
“Ruby, I love you, but I do not feel qualified to give you advice about this by myself,” Juturna said, looking down for an instant. Ruby felt as though she were being carried through Juturna’s house along with the scroll, catching fleeting glimpses of corridors painted in bright colours, with lurid reds and vibrant greens and black and yellow stripes along with walls or ceilings painted like hordes of colourful moths were flying across them.
“Turnus!” Juturna called as she carried her scroll — and Ruby with it — into what looked like a kitchen, where the walls were a lot plainer than anywhere else in the house that Ruby had seen so far. “Turnus, leave the vegetables; this is more important.”
“What is?” Turnus asked, from somewhere out of sight.
“Ruby is thinking of leaving Beacon, and I need your help to talk to her about it,” Juturna said.
There was a pause.
“Is that Ruby on your scroll now?”
“No, it’s the Steward of Mistral— Of course it’s Ruby ! Who else would it be?” Juturna demanded.
Ruby heard footsteps before the face of Turnus Rutulus loomed over Juturna’s scroll from the other side.
“Good afternoon, Ruby,” Turnus said.
“Hey,” Ruby said.
“Would you prefer to speak to Juturna alone?” Turnus asked.
Juturna shook her head vigorously.
“I … I guess having some extra advice wouldn’t hurt,” Ruby said softly.
“Very well,” Turnus said, taking Juturna by the shoulder and turning her around so that they were standing side by side — the height difference between them was such that Juturna had to hold her scroll quite far out in order to get Turnus’ face in the picture alongside hers — facing Ruby.
“So,” Turnus asked. “Why are you considering this? When we spoke, you seemed quite committed to the path of a huntress.”
“I was,” Ruby said. “And I still am, just … maybe, not at Beacon. Or not at any of the other academies, either.”
“Oh, you’re going to bribe someone to make you a huntress early?” Juturna asked.
“No!” Ruby cried. “I mean … do you think that would work?”
“No one in Mistral who could certify you would be so vulgar as to nakedly take a bribe; these aren’t police officers we’re talking about,” Turnus muttered. “But there are channels of influence, if you had a patron of standing supporting you, someone to whom someone like Professor Lionheart might want to owe a favour to, or might find it convenient to have them indebted in some way to him, quid pro quo, more valuable than lien in certain circumstances to certain people.”
“I see,” Ruby murmured. “How about in Vale?”
“In Vale, I’m afraid I don’t know,” Turnus admitted.
“But if you’re going to leave Beacon, then why stay in Vale?” Juturna asked. “You could come to Mistral and take that job that Bro offered you! That job’s still open, right?”
“Certainly, we may be entering a phase of expansion,” Turnus said. “But Ruby spoke of still wishing to be a huntress, just outside of school, which … personally, I left Atlas, and I never looked back. I learnt more in a year at SDC security than I had in two years in the classroom, but then, I wasn’t particularly anxious to become a huntsman. It wasn’t necessary to be one for anything that I wanted to do with my life; nobody was going to hold it against me that I wasn’t graduated or certified or licensed. But if you still want to be a huntress … it can be done outside of the academies, there are ways and means, and I’m sure that must be true in Vale as much as in Mistral, but it does raise the question of why bother. Why not stay in school, if it is the path to what you want?”
“Did something happen with your teammates?” Juturna asked. “Did they do something awful?”
Ruby hesitated, wondering how much she could, or should, say. “Yes,” she admitted. “Yes, they … one of them did, and I’m … I’m not entirely satisfied by the way that everyone else reacted to it.”
“You mean they supported the one who did this … unforgivable thing,” Turnus suggested.
“Not exactly, no, they admitted that it was wrong, but…” Ruby closed her eyes for a moment. “They still like her.” They still prefer her to me, she thought, but didn’t say because she was worried it would sound petty, and maybe even pathetic. “And even Professor Ozpin doesn’t seem to care that much about what happened, about what she did, he still likes her and values her, and I just … I want to be valued! I don’t want to spend the next three years getting talked down to and treated like a kid with stupid ideas when I’m right, and I would have liked for somebody, anybody, to actually recognise that for once! I could have led this team as well as anybody else, just like my mom did, but apparently, I’m not trustworthy, I’m not good enough, I need somebody to keep me in check, and I’m just sick of it! I’m sick of it, and I’m sick of all of them!”
Ruby bent forwards, a sound almost like a sob escaping her.
“I don’t like it here anymore,” she whispered.
Juturna clasped her hands together over her heart. “Oh, Ruby,” she whispered.
“I … I’m sorry,” Ruby whispered, looking at them both. “I didn’t mean to—”
“There’s no need to apologise,” Turnus assured her. “Strong feelings give way to strong reactions, it is the way of things. And are we not told that your Valish king fought a Great War, the greatest war ever waged between the kingdoms, over, amongst other things, our right to feel?”
“I … I guess,” Ruby muttered. “I … I think a huntress should put her own life last, and the lives of all others before. I think that we can’t falter from that fundamental truth, no matter how afraid we are, no how much we care about one another because the people that we’re supposed to be fighting for, they have people that they care about too, and they deserve to come home as well, because unlike us, they didn’t ask for any of this. That has to be the bedrock, I think, that has to be the place we stand, even if it’s also where we fall. That’s what it means to be a huntress. That’s what I thought it meant to be a huntress, only now, it seems like even Professor Ozpin doesn’t agree with me on that, so … so I’m starting to feel … I’m starting to ask myself—”
“If you can possibly stay in that place, with those people,” Turnus said.
“Do you…?” Ruby began. “Was that what it was like for you, in Atlas, in the end?”
“I?” Turnus repeated. “I…” He trailed off. “Do you know how the War of Lucrecia’s Honour began?”
Ruby frowned. “The War of … you mean the Valish-Mistral War?”
“That’s a rather unromantic name for it, but yes,” Turnus said. “The Valish merchants had been plotting to overthrow the Emperor and take control of Mistral for themselves. The masters of the Guildhall discovered their plot and presented the evidence of it before the court: faunus slaves in services to the Valish testified that they had heard their masters plotting. One of them told the assembled lords and ladies that his master, the ringleader of the whole conspiracy, meant when the coup was complete to take for his bride the Lady Lucrecia Rutulus, the fairest maid in all of Mistral at that time.”
“And one of your ancestors,” Ruby said.
“Not directly, she married a prince of the House of Nikos; we’re descended from one of her brothers,” Turnus said. “But anyway, hearing of this, my ancestor, the Lady Rutulus of the time, strode before the throne and told the Empress that either Her Majesty must give her leave to take the head of this Valish dog — or she would do it regardless, in spite of the will of the throne, because her sword could not sit idly in her scabbard in the face of this provocation. The point being that we all have lines that we not only cannot cross but cannot bear to see crossed by others, lines which, if crossed, must drive us to action that may seem extreme but which is, really, no more than the situation warrants. If you cannot bear to remain, if your lines have been crossed, then you must do what you think is right, in spite of all who may try and tell you otherwise. There comes a point at which restraint will only wound you.”
“Don’t you think it matters whether I’m right or not?” asked Ruby.
“No,” Turnus said bluntly.
“I don’t think that’s what Ruby wants to hear,” Juturna said.
“Maybe not, but I’ve had enough of people telling me what they think I want to hear to get them off my back,” Ruby said. “You don’t think I’m right, do you?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think, or Professor Ozpin, or your teammates, or anyone else, for that matter,” Turnus said. “It only matters what you believe and how far you’re willing to go for those beliefs you hold.”
“That … that sounds a lot like what S— what my teammate thought,” Ruby murmured.
“And you are still entitled to believe that she was wrong and to do what you feel you must in response,” Turnus replied.
“I’m beginning to wish that I hadn’t come in here,” Juturna said. “Don’t listen to him,” she added, raising one hand to cover Turnus’ face. “Unless he’s helping, in which case, listen to him. Is he helping?”
“I … think so,” Ruby said.
She wasn’t sure about the idea that the intrinsic rights and wrongs of the situation didn’t matter and the most important thing was how you felt about yourself and your own values, but then, maybe Turnus hadn’t been speaking in general terms, but only in terms of how you dealt with other people … although that story certainly sounded like it was about a general rule: kill people who want to marry your daughter. That sounded a little bit harsh, really, although death as a punishment for treason was … well, it was olden times, wasn’t it?
But, in specific, given that she was right in this specific circumstance, the idea of doing what she felt was right and never minding if people judged her or looked askance at her for it because the only thing that mattered was that she felt righteous in herself had a lot to recommend it. Ruby would just have to mind that she didn’t slip into assuming that just because she felt righteous that meant she was always behaving righteously.
“I wouldn’t want to just assume that … I mean, isn’t there something external that you use to judge whether you’re doing the right thing or not?”
“Of course,” Turnus said, pushing Juturna’s hand away. “Faith, honour, tradition handed down to us from our ancestors; what I don’t do is allow others to sway me with their opinions or interpretations.”
“Got it,” Ruby said. “In which case, yes, you’ve helped a lot.”
“Okay, but I don’t see how,” Juturna said. “Look, Ruby, it’s actually very simple: are you happy where you are right now, at Beacon?”
“No,” Ruby said.
“Do you care about the people you’re with?”
“I…” Ruby hesitated. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean that I like them a lot of the time, if that makes sense?”
Juturna bobbed her head back and forth. “I guess so, yeah. And is there somewhere else you can see yourself happy? Something else that you want, away from Beacon and from them?”
“Yes,” Ruby declared. “I want… I want to show them all. I want to prove that I could do all the things that they said I couldn’t, all the things that they didn’t trust me to do. I want to be the things that they didn’t believe that I could be.” I wanted to be the leader of Team SAPR, or whatever its name would have been with me as its leader. I know that I should be happy for Penny — I am happy for Penny; this is a big moment for her — but all the same, I wanted it to be me. It should be me, if Professor Ozpin really cared about this place and about what makes a huntsman or a huntress, then it would be me, just like it was my mom. I could do it. I could be a great leader if I was given the chance.
But I’ll never be given the chance here.
“If I stay here, I’m afraid I’ll always be in someone else’s shadow, kept there intentionally, on a leash,” Ruby said. “I want to step out of the shadows and into the glorious sunlight; I want to help people without restraint, without being held back by weak people, by cowardly people, by people who are so fixated upon caution that they’ve lost sight of what really matters. I want to follow the path that I’ve chosen without having to deal with everyone who wants to put up fences in my way.”
“Then do it!” Juturna yelled. “That … that sounds awesome! If you want to do all that, then what are you doing sitting around talking to us? Ruby, I … I could never be you. I’m going to be honest and say that I’m not sure that I’d really want to be you, although maybe it’s a good thing that there are people like you, but, the point is that that, what you just said, you sounded so passionate about it, you aren’t thinking about what to do, you know what to do, you’re just … are you afraid of doing it?”
“No, I’m not scared,” Ruby said.
“Really?”
“I … well … maybe a little,” Ruby admitted.
“Scared of what?”
“Of … what my dad will think,” Ruby murmured. “About what my sister will think—”
“Who cares?!” Juturna cried. “This is about you, not them; it’s your life!”
Turnus cleared his throat.
“Not now, bro, I’m talking,” Juturna said. “Ruby: run. Run and don’t stop until you’ve done all of that and more, run and run and keep on running, and don’t let anyone stop you. If all that you’ve said is what you want, then go for it!”
“I will,” Ruby said quietly. She raised her voice, lifted up on the wave of Juturna’s enthusiasm. “I will! I’ll do it. I’ll find my own place, free from everyone who tries to hold me back!” A bright beaming smile spread across her face. “Thanks, Juturna, and you, Turnus.”
Turnus bowed his head. “Good fortune attend you, Ruby Rose, and remember that wherever your road takes you, you will always have a friend here in the House of Rutulus.”
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Ruby sometimes only choices people have are the bad ones. You must understand that the reality is not like the stories, in war you must a choice whether people think it's good or bad.
I still think Ruby's ethics suck and are not very pragmatic at all, but I appreciate that if she's not going to change them, she's willing to leave instead of spending the next three years complaining. Also, as I mentioned earlier, I think PMC Sunset is cool, and PMC(?) Ruby sounds cool too.
I can already see how Ruby's desire to show everyone what it means to be a Real Hunter, what values he should have, and also prove that she deserves to be the daughter of her mother - her hero - will eventually force her to make a different choice, unlike Sunset... and we all already know what result it will bring.
Damn it, why kick a puppy that's already facing a terrible fate? Eh...
Anyway, it pisses me off like hell that Ruby listens to the advice of these people who, with the exception of Lief, are already mired in Salem's dealings. What kind of blow will it be for Ruby when she finds out that the people who supported her choice and decision ended up being traitors?
Damn it, Ruby is only fifteen years old! The desire to show that she is worthy, that her principles and ideals are correct, that she is not just a hero of the third plan... at the same time, she is deeply aware that these principles may be distorted or even wrong, but she cannot abandon them, because this would mean that her mother... She wasn't a perfect example of a hunter. Or maybe Ruby herself will never be able to be like her own mother...
Why can't Ruby, Penny and Sunset just go to the land of friendship, away from all this negativity?
Huh, Ruby's leaving Beacon...
I mean, the whole Starhead industries offer kinda set that up, but it does remind me of what Ruby basically said in Ozpin's office: "Either Sunset goes or I go." Now, it might be kinda late with Sunset dismissed, but even if Ozpin were to let Sunset back in, things wouldn't exactly be fine and dandy as there's still the matter of Jaune, who still doesn't trust Sunset now. Although if it did happen, Sapphire would go from SAPR to SAPP, and Penny would be Sunset's partner instead of Ruby, not that there would be any problem with that since Sunset and Penny get along swimmingly, even despite what's happened recently.
Of course, this will all be for nought, knowing what's coming.
Also, didn't Ruby essentially say that Sunset caused the Breach to Juturna and Turnus?
Also, with Ruby choosing to leave Beacon, would she walk away from the Salem business as well?
I mean, Sunset kinda had an opportunity to walk away from it, yet she didn't, whether due to her loyalty to Ozpin, her love for her friends, or just a sense of obligation.
Would Ruby leave that behind, since she's lost her admiration for Ozpin (plus her eyes can do zilch against Salem)?
This version of Ruby...
The only way she's going to grow is if she gets out there, makes a decision, gets people killed directly as a result of that decision, somehow manages to NOT be one of the people her decision kills, AND she's in a position afterwards where she can't blame someone else for those deaths or justify it away.
Salem: “That’s it, little petal. Go on your way. I certainly won’t complain of your absence.”
Hmm
Ruby, sweetie, when everybody else seems to be wrong, and you are 14, well..... I might have some bad news for you
I understand that she is a kid, and, well, stupid and naive in some aspects, as kids are, still, it is very hard to follow her story for me
And with her speech here she once again showed us that she was to young to attend beacon
Oh, and a trend of nobody around Ruby questioning her judgment and only patting her on the head (except for Amber, and Dove, and Ozpin, but why listen, huh) which just serves to solidify it more
I am sorry, I now that the climax is near, but with every chapter I become more and more exhausted by waiting for it. Don't wanna critisize, but you do have a knack for dragging every plot point out for as long as possible.....
The thing is building up, then building up more, then some more, then even more. And when you think it reached it's boiling point, nope, just some more. It is rather tiring
I am sorry, it does sound like whining on my part. It's just, I love this story so much, I want to live to see conclusion to it
Anyway, great chapter, as always
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I mean, it's not like Salem is having all silver eyes hunted down or anything, right?
Ruby on her own would be the perfect ideal situation for a scorpion-tailed psycho.
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And leave Vale without her skills and Silver Eyes to protect it.
Not that Ruby can use them in this state, since they rely on how much you love the people closest to you.
11794215
That's pretty much what I'm feeling. I just want everything to fall apart already so it can start getting put back together. Ruby getting pushed further toward, in my opinion, the absolute worst sort of person doesn't help either. There's no one I can't stand more than someone that refuses to be wrong. It means your only options are to abandon those people or break them entirely. I don't want either of those things for Ruby. But she won't listen, she won't bend, so she gets to find out if she can pay the price her zealotry will cost her.
Honestly, this spin on Ruby isn't something I expected. She wants to make the decisions that will lead to people living and dying. Based on her philosophy, she wants to kill people. People she knows and supposedly cares about. It obviously doesn't work out that way in her head, but she's actually started actively doing some introspection at this point. At some point, even if circumstances don't glaringly point this out to her, she's going to realize this is the end point of her ideals. She's just so shortsighted at this point. She has just, nothing to back up anything she thinks or feels or thinks she'd feel.
I find myself really wishing that Ruby had called her father instead of these random people. As someone that's aware of the deeper circumstances she's dealing with, has known her literally her entire life, and she was actually making a comparison between them earlier, you'd think he might be someone she'd turn to for advice. Based on the obvious absence of interactions between Ruby and certain characters it's apparent that Scipio has no intentions of allowing this crazy train to do anything but crash straight into the station, though.
I'm just going to accept my fate at this point. I'm gonna comment on this story. I'm gonna drop fat bricks of text. I can't stop myself.
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The annoying thing is Leaf mentioned that the reason everything worked out for her is because Sunset reached out to make sure that she had a support network. A support network without which Leaf would be a literal slave in a SDC mine (even if she didn't say that directly)... and Ruby has completely glossed over that.
I remember a quote early on in the movie Serenity that works so well here. "Do you know what the definition of a hero is? Someone who gets other people killed."
And still
As we see after that, you have too high of an opinion of Ruby
It is funny, not one of her immediate circle of friends (I don't think Amber counts here) voiced their objections with her decision to banish Sunset (even though Pyrrha, Penny, Rainbow and Twilight are definitely not very happy about it) but she is still unhappy with them, unhappy that not everyone is as merciless as her. And I get her frustration with Ozpin (even though it is stupid, ya know, sometimes people with way more experience are worth listening to), but being angry at her friends? Why? They continue (for some unfavomable reason, which I am starting to suspect be plot convenience) to tell her how perfect and good and noble her worldview and judgment is. Just shows once again that she was too young to attend Beacon (sorry for sounding like a broken record here)
11794364
In her defense (this is the ONLY time I'm defending her), in the unlikely event that she decides to go to that company and be the boss, she would likely warn the people she is hiring that they will probably have an early death. If people still decide to join, well, they knew what they were getting into. This is the only time you'll see me defending Rwby.
About the other thing you've said, yeah. She is starting to turn into a zealous (hope i wrote it correctly) person. And that is never a good thing. She is the type of person that will send several men to their deaths just to save a single man/women/child. She is the type to stay and die for others to escape even tho all of them could escape if she were to think a little. I really want to see her make some dumb choice that will kill several people and think that it was necessary, just for someone else to tell her that she could have done another thing instead and have nobody die, if only she stopped and thought of another solution. And of course, be reminded that she is, indeed, a dumb child with suicidal urges. I honestly hope she decides to leave just so we get rid of her.
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I don't think that's true. Dove said it just now, yes, but Dove isn't one of the people that Ruby is upset with; Pyrrha, admittedly, said it to Amber, and that's something that I do regret in light of the way that I've actually leaned into Ruby's more egotistical and entitled side in this chapter, but she hasn't said it to Ruby's face in what must be millions of words by now, if she ever said it. One of the reasons that Ruby is so unhappy is that nobody has said that to her face in quite some time, in fact usually there is a strong implication of the opposite.
11795066
Okay, i might remember everything poorly, it is just that almost everytime when most of the characters talk about Ruby (with the exeption of Ozpin, of course) they very often mention that she is a person to look up to, so it seemed to me that it was to her directly too
and i mean, Yang did just tell her how good of a heart she has.... (wich, for me, seemed to be a bit forced in that particular conversation, it is what actually sent me on this trail of thoughts)
and I'm sorry, but
Ruby be like "Oh, woe is me, not everyone agrees with my perfect wonderful judgment! How dare they!!"
ehem
sorry
Ruby's mistake is not that she has high moral standards. Ruby's problem is that she fails to recognize that mercy and justice are two sides of the same coin, and that, while moral principles are simple, the execution of those principles can vary wildly based on context. So too can the appropriate response.
I'm reminded of an episode of the show Foyle's War, a police show set in WWII. Without naming the episode, Foyle (the detective) discovers that a man used blackmail to enlist a man in trying to bring a murderer to justice. This blackmail resulted in the blackmailed man also being murdered by the same criminal. Foyle can prove the blackmailer did it... but British Intelligence asks him not to press the matter, because the blackmailer (a German who lived in England) has volunteered to go be a spy in Germany, to work his contacts and try to stop the Nazis. It's a mission that will kill him, and he knows it's a one way trip.
Now, Foyle has an obligation to get justice for the murdered man who'd been blackmailed and that man's family. However, he also recognizes that the blackmailer was trying to avenge another victim of the same murderer and that what the blackmailer will no doubt suffer in this suicidal mission arguably squares the balance. Further, Foyle is confident that he can still nail the murderer for both victims (and he does). As such, he extends mercy to the guilty blackmailer by letting him go and remains true to the cause of justice.
This version of Ruby is so rigid that she would probably consider this to be a moral compromise. But it isn't. It's recognizing that moral principles are simple, but the application is hard and sometimes unclear. It's recognizing, further, that mercy and justice are allies, not enemies.
What Sunset did was objectively wrong. Even if no one had died, the fact that she'd been willing to condemn a city of tens if not hundreds of thousands to their deaths just to save her friends is objectively wrong. Heck, while it sounds like a lot of readers hated that she went to jail in the original version of this story, I actually loved that she stood up and took responsibility for what she'd done and grew tremendously as a result, realizing that she shouldn't make those kinds of decisions. The fact that no one died in the original only made that more poignant, because it addresses moral consequentialism. What she did was wrong regardless of it's consequences, and it's something she needed to learn.
At the same time, punishing Sunset here (in this version) is not going to bring justice to the dead. Arguably, the best way to bring justice to the dead is for Sunset to spend the rest of her life (and probably her death) doing the right thing and making the right calls. That is her punishment, her justice, and her mercy. Much as I have reasons to criticize Ozpin for so many things (e.g. Amber), he actually nailed it with how he handled Sunset's failure. He recognized she wouldn't do it again, saw that she'd spend the rest of her life in penance for it, and said "justice and mercy now are both served." Aces.
Hey, Ruby.
I've forwarded it to the bit that matters, but Team Sapr needs a mentor like Bill Seacaster to set them straight.
Honestly, I suspect Ozpin and Bill would have the exact same reason for not putting Ruby in a position of leadership, through Ozpin likely wouldn't word it in the same way as the latter to 'protect Ruby's feelings because she's just a child' or something like that.
There are two types of people in this world: Those who fight for blood and those who fight for gold.
Ruby fights for blood. She has no future outside of combat in general. Sure it's largely focused on the Grimm, but the fact that she was so adamant about getting on the train to fight the White Fang and be a hero suggests that as long as a group can be labeled the 'bad guys', she is up for it without a second thought. The fact that she wants to just leave Beacon in order to get to the endless fight against the Grimm faster because her companions don't share her zealotry is a sign of her trying to remove obstructions in way of fighting . She is going to get herself and anyone stupid enough to follow her put in an early grave and someone needed to make that clear to her for a while now.
Ruby might try and hide it behind 'the tenets of being a Huntsmen' but... frankly, the only real requirement for being a Huntsman is 'Kill Grimm'. Protecting innocent people is... quite frankly an optional extra. A story that society created because Huntsmen becoming tyrants/Feudal Lords is kind of an issue.
By contrast, Sunset, Pyrrha, Jaune, Blake and Penny have all fought for Gold. Their gold has taken the form of love for each other as friends and lovers and a desire for a future in which those people remain. They don't fight to fight, they fight to win... and their victory is survival. Granted, I'm sure that there are things that all five of them would be willing to die for in order to achieve, but there is a life for them outside of conflict and carnage.
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The parallels drawn here between Ruby and the Rutulus family are that Juturna's own childish flight of fancy has her in deep with Salem's plans. And Turnus' ambitions reflect Ruby's desire to become leader because they both believe they know best. That last one will be quite an eye-opener for Ruby when she realizes that means Turnus seeks to eliminate democracy and establish a militaristic dictatorship (which she hates about Ironwood). So what does that say about Ruby's own ambitions to lead SAPR?
11795450
Beautifully said.
Since not even problem in the world can be solved with justice, sometimes one must first stop and ask "What will enforcing justice here actually accomplish? Will it improve the world today?" But justice was fulfilled when Adam was eliminated, the White Fang foiled, Cinder Fall arrested, and the killings stopped.
A similar example to your use of Foyle would be Sebastian Stan in the new Hogwarts Legacy game. In a fit of frustrated rage while under the influence of dark magic and a series of unfortunate misunderstandings, Sebastian killed his uncle. The result? A man is dead, and Sebastian's best friend and his twin sister are distraught. What's done is done, irrevocably so, and the only question is what do we do next? What will justice accomplish here if carried out? The answer is that locking up Sebastian would destroy his life, deprive Ominis of his lifelong friend, and likely devastate the sister's already frail health. Therefore, justice in that situation would only bring more pain. The best path forward that would help everyone involved was to take Sebastian back in, put him to work through penance, and hopefully help everyone reconcile.
Ruby didn't ask herself this question about what justice would achieve. But Ozpin did.