Journey’s End

There was an airship crashed on the road to Beacon; an Atlesian Skyray, its white, metallic body half-buried in the earth.

Sunset skidded her motorbike to a halt, wondering when the airship had come down, whether it was the same airship that everyone had flown — tried to fly — to Beacon in, whether any of them had actually made it up to Beacon or she would find them all hidden just out of sight on the other side of this airship.

Whether she would find them at all.

There were no grimm here now, but Sunset had seen the grimm retreating as she came up the road; they had been running from the school, falling back just like the grimm were falling back from Vale, running eastwards towards the mountains, pursued by the Atlesian airships.

They must have been here, even if they were on the run now.

What had they done to her friends while they were here?

As Sunset came to a stop, she could see that at least a few people had not made it up to Beacon.

Rainbow Dash was sat on the ground, leaning back against the half-buried remains of the Skyray, with Blake kneeling beside her and Sun hovering awkwardly nearby.

Rainbow’s shotgun was lying by her side, and there was a medical kit, a blue plastic box with the knotted cross in white upon it, sitting next to Blake. It was open.

Sunset got off her motorcycle, pulling off her helmet as she walked quickly, almost running over to Rainbow and Blake — and Sun, she supposed, although she barely paid him any attention at all.

He wasn’t the one who looked hurt, or the one who was tending to the one who was hurt.

“What…?” Sunset paused for a moment, swallowing. She could see that Blake had taken off — or Rainbow had been able to do it for herself — her wings, her jacket, and her t-shirt; it was only Rainbow’s bra that was preserving any sense of modesty now. That had all been necessary because Blake was wrapping bandages around Rainbow’s midriff. “What happened?”

Rainbow glanced at her. “Oh, look who decided to show up. About time.”

Sunset’s mouth opened wordlessly for a second. “A— are you dying?”

Blake looked up at her, silently.

“What?” Rainbow asked.

“You heard me,” Sunset said. “Are you dying?”

“No!” Rainbow cried. “No, I’m not dying—”

“Then bite your tongue, you cheeky…” Sunset began, putting her hands on her hips. “Just because I haven’t been where you can see me, I’ve saved Vale, I’ll have you know.”

“Really?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Yes, really!” Sunset declared. She paused for a second. “I helped, anyway. I was right at Councillor Emerald’s side when he…”

She was forced to hesitate while she pondered how to phrase what she had done down in the headquarters while at the same time maintaining Councillor Emerald’s cover story. Then she wondered if she actually needed to maintain Councillor Emerald’s cover story in front of Rainbow Dash and Blake.

No, but there is Sun to consider. “I was right at Councillor Emerald’s side when he faced down the military and saved the city. Now, he was the real hero, I won’t deny that, he was incredibly brave throughout the whole thing, but he would never have made it without me by his side.”

“Congratulations, I guess,” Blake said softly.

“For what?” Sunset asked.

Blake’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She remained quiet for a second or two, before she said, “I … I’m not quite sure. It just seemed as though what you said required, or at least invited, some kind of response. Congratulations on … doing something?”

“Doing something early on in the night,” Rainbow said. “What have you been doing the rest of the time?”

“I—” Sunset began, before she saw the grin on Rainbow’s face, the glint in her eye that said she was pulling on Sunset’s tail.

“You’re lucky you’re hurt,” Sunset muttered. “I’ll chalk this up to the pain making you act out.” She frowned. “What happened?”

“She took a hit for me,” Sun muttered, tapping the side of the airship. “Right across the gut.”

“It was just a little scratch,” Rainbow insisted. “Don’t make it sound like I had my insides spilling out.”

“You might have, if the grimm hadn’t decided to retreat when they did,” Blake pointed out. She looked at Sunset. “Since you’re here, and with the airships that we’ve seen flying by, is this something more than just a temporary retreat by the grimm?”

“It looks like it,” Sunset told them. “What happened to the others? I know that you flew up here with Pyrrha, Jaune, Penny—”

“Did Ruby tell you that?” asked Blake.

Sunset nodded. “That’s right.”

“What … else did she tell you?” asked Blake, caution making her words creep slowly out of her mouth.

“Everything, I think,” Sunset answered. “That … Professor Ozpin was dead, that Amber was trying to get to the Relic, that Yang … had perished.”

“She’s not the only one,” Rainbow murmured. “But yeah, sounds like Ruby did tell you everything.”

“That’s more than you two told me,” Sun muttered.

“I took a hit for you; I could have been seriously wounded,” Rainbow reminded him. “What more do you want?”

“To know why you did it?” Sun asked.

“You know why I did it; you don’t need to ask me that,” Rainbow said sharply.

Blake looked at her.

“What are you looking at me like that for, Blake? Of course it was for you,” Rainbow said softly, shifting her shoulders a little as though she were trying to get comfortable against the Skyray wreck. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

Blake hesitated. “I … don’t really know what to say.”

“Neither do I,” Sun admitted.

Rainbow snorted. “Wishing that you hadn’t asked?”

“Not really, I just … that’s kind of Scarlet levels of brutal ho— oh, oh, okay, I get why you named one of your guns that now.”

“I’m not gonna pretend you’re one of my best friends,” Rainbow said. “I don’t hate you or anything, but … you know.” She closed her eyes for a second. “Anyway, Sunset, you’re right. We got the call, General Ironwood ordered us to pick up Pyrrha, Jaune, Penny, Ruby, and take them to Beacon to stop Amber. Only Ruby didn’t want to go, so we left her behind and flew off with Pyrrha, Jaune, and Penny. The dragon brought our airship down before we got there — right here, obviously — only it didn’t bother to finish us off, lucky us.”

“It was more interested in destroying the tower,” Blake said. “The CCT down. What’s going to happen now?”

“I’m more interested in what happened already,” Sunset said. “Go on, the dragon brought down your airship, then what?”

"We don't know what happened then," Rainbow said. "The airship crashed; Ciel, Penny, all the rest headed up to Beacon; Blake and I — and Sun — stayed here to hold off the grimm so that they could keep moving." She let out a slight grunt or soft groan of pain, one hand moving towards her bandaged stomach.

"I see," Sunset said quietly. "Well, I'm glad that you're not too badly hurt, and that you're not hurt at all. Either of you," she added quickly. "After the battle ended, I came up here to see that you were all okay, but since the three of you seem to have everything in hand, I'll—"

"Wait," Blake said. "Just, quickly, before you go. I know you must be anxious to make sure that the others made it through, but what happened in Vale? Why are the grimm retreating?"

"Did you see the dragon go down, or were you too busy fending off the grimm right in front of you?" asked Sunset.

"The second one," Rainbow grunted. "Someone took the dragon down? How?"

"Ruby took it down," Sunset said. "She shot it in its weak point."

Rainbow blinked. "It had a weak point this whole time?"

"Yes," Sunset answered. "But it was hidden behind some armour so you couldn't see it."

"Then how did Ruby spot it?" asked Sun.

"I guessed where it might be, then Ruby cut the armour off, and that was where it was," Sunset explained. "Then she shot it, like I said. And that's when the grimm started to retreat."

"Huh," Rainbow said. "That's … you'd better get up there, quick, make sure that they don't need any help."

Blake looked at her. "You sound worried."

"I'm … this was all for Amber, right?" Rainbow asked. "All of this was to provide cover so that Amber could get the Relic and…" — she glanced at Sun — "take it away from here."

"I still don't understand how that works," Sun said, in as pointed a tone as Sun was probably capable of managing.

"Even with the dragon dead, why would the grimm retreat like that?" asked Rainbow. "They still had numbers, and they'd already broken through the Green Line—"

"And the gate," Sunset murmured, as an icy feeling began to grow inside her stomach, cold fingers reaching out from within her to grasp at her insides.

"The grimm got into Vale?" demanded Blake. "You never mentioned that!"

"Because they didn't," Sunset said. "The dragon destroyed the Freedom Gate, but the rest of the grimm were still behind, held back in the suburbs, before the grimm began to fall back."

"But why would they do that?" asked Rainbow. "Why not keep pressing the attack? Dragon or no they still had the numbers on their side, so why not keep fighting?"

"Unless they already had what they came here for," Sunset whispered. She took a step back. There was no proof, only Rainbow's conjecture, but it was a plausible conjecture nonetheless, terrifyingly so.

She could feel the icy fingers gripping tighter, all the joy at the victory in Vale turning to ashes in her mouth.

"Go," Rainbow said.

Sunset scarcely needed to be told. She rammed her helmet onto her head so hard that it hurt her equine ears as they were suddenly squashed down into her hair. She leapt back onto her motorcycle, the engine roaring to life once again at a touch from her.

She accelerated, her bike leaping forward as she guided it around Blake and Rainbow and the wreck of their crashed Skyray, the tires of her vehicle kicking up dirt as she diverted off the road onto the grass verge on either side. She left skidmarks in the mud behind her before she regained the road, holding down the accelerator to send her bike moving forward faster and faster.

The chance that she would be in time to do anything, to achieve anything, help anyone was small, minimal, miniscule one might even say; but small though it might be, she had to take it. And even if there was no chance at all, even if it was all over and already too late … she had to know.

As she roared up the road, Sunset's eyes were drawn upwards to the broken tower; it still loomed over the school — it hadn't been so completely destroyed as to do otherwise — but it did not loom nearly so large as it had done when the Emerald Tower was whole and proud and tall, and when the lights burned brightly in the night sky. Now, it loomed as a reminder of all that had been done.

All that had been lost.

Don't think about loss, not now, not yet.

Why not? I know that Professor Ozpin is dead, at least. And Yang too.

But Professor Ozpin would not want to be joined by a bodyguard in the land of the dead, and so I will not think about that until I must.

Speak only good things, Pyrrha had urged last night, when they had taken Cinder captive; it was a little late for that, and this night had seen too many bad things not to speak of them, but for now, as Sunset's motorcycle roared as it bore her on up the road, she could perhaps avoid thinking about the worst things when they had not come to pass.

When, at least, she did not know that they had come to pass.

Sunset drove her bike up the road, past the dark, silent and unlit Benni Haven's — dark and quiet, but structurally intact as far as Sunset could tell from a brief glance, which she took to be a good sign — and through the gates into the school grounds. She turned westwards, towards the Valish side of the grounds, towards the Vault that Amber had shown them — a decision she might have regretted since.

A decision of hers that Sunset might regret if the battle had gone ill for her friends.

Technically, she wasn't supposed to drive her motorcycle across the school grounds like this — only to and from the garage, not across the campus towards the Valish cliffside — but she thought that, if he had been here still, Professor Ozpin would have forgiven her in the circumstances.

But he wasn't here.

In the circumstances, that just meant that she could get away with it.

She didn't see any sign of anyone, not until she reached the courtyard; or perhaps there had been signs of someone, but Sunset had just missed them, in haste as she was, and with her vision and her ability to hear both somewhat restricted by her helmet. When she reached the courtyard, it was not a sign of life that she saw, but a sign of death.

Professor Ozpin's body lay in the courtyard, beneath the … beneath where the statue had stood. The statue itself was pretty much gone, huntsman and huntress and plinth all destroyed so thoroughly that Sunset could only imagine some great battle had been fought here at some point tonight; perhaps the same battle that had torn these holes in the dorm room wall.

Sunset slowed her bike to a stop. Professor Ozpin did not look as though he had fallen in a great battle. There were no wounds on his body, no tears on his chest, no blood on him. He looked as though he had fallen asleep, never to wake up again.

Better that than he should look ripped apart, torn to shreds by the ravenous teeth of grimm, pierced by wounds, burned by fire. But better still by far had he been alive.

Sunset got off her bike, taking off her helmet and resting it lightly upon the motorcycle handlebars. As she approached Professor Ozpin, his eyes closed never to open again, she momentarily sloughed off Sol Invictus and Soteria and began to take off her jacket.

Her eyes were fixed upon his slumbering-seeming face, his peaceful face, his serene face. In the catacombs under Canterlot, so ancient that they had been forgotten by all but scholars and antiquarians, were the tombs of the old unicorn kings and queens from before Celestia had taken up the rule of Ponykind. They lay in state, down in the darkness under the mountain, surrounded by glittering gems dug from the mountain caverns, their bodies preserved by complex spells so that they would not decay, would not suffer the putrefying march of time. Some were even preserved within glass coffins, their preserved bodies visible for any to see who ventured down into the depths; others preferred stone sarcophagi with graven effigies sitting above them. In both cases, they looked the same: sleeping, eyes closed, peaceful looks upon their faces; they looked as though they were resting, and indeed, it was written in old lore that they would one day rise again, when harmony shattered and the three races of ponykind became divided once again, to lead the unicorns once more.

Nonsense, of course. But Professor Ozpin looked just like those old kings resting in their tombs, and like them, he would not rise again for any reason.

Nor would his body remain proof against time's malice, unless Princess Celestia could teach Sunset the spell.

Sunset took off her jacket and draped it over Professor Ozpin's face, head and shoulders, and upper body. He had a peaceful look, but nevertheless, it was not meet that he should simply lie like that upon the ground, unregarded, as though no one cared at all.

And besides, as peaceful as it was, the dead face rebuked her; she had been his servant, and yet, when he had need of aid, where had she been? Elsewhere. She had failed him. She had been absent, and in her absence, he had perished.

She had failed him, as she might have failed others too, she knew not as of yet.

"Pyrrha?!" Sunset shouted, leaving Professor Ozpin behind with her jacket to cover him, leaving her motorcycle behind too as she started to run from the courtyard, cutting across the lawn — a much-trampled lawn, by now; footprints and claw marks alike had torn through the grass and churned the mud beneath — towards the cliffs, towards the place where Amber had shown them the Vault. "Jaune?! Penny?!"

She bellowed out their names as she ran, slinging Soteria and Sol Invictus across her shoulders once again, and as she ran, as she neared the cliffs, she began to see in the darkness figures up ahead, three figures standing by the cliffs and one standing further off, not quite so far off as to be called aloof from them but in that vein.

"Pyrrha?!" Sunset shouted.

"Sunset?"

"Pyrrha!" Sunset yelled as she picked up her pace, her boots doing their own part to churn up the soil beneath her as she ran faster across the grass that bore so many signs of battle.

She teleported the last short distance, tired of running, appearing by the cliffs in a crack and a flash of green light, appearing in front of Pyrrha — and Jaune, too, who had his arms around her.

Sunset ignored him, for now. There would be time enough to deal with Jaune, who might not be so considerate as to pretend that they were perfect strangers as Ruby had, but right now, Sunset's attention was focussed upon Pyrrha, who was alive, who was standing in front of her. Sunset let out a gasp of relief at the sight. She was alive. She and Jaune were alive. Whyever the grimm had pulled out now, it was not because Amber had slain them to take the Relic.

Sunset reached out with both arms, and Jaune's own arms fell away, one of them at least — very decent of him, all things considered — to allow Sunset to wrap both arms around Pyrrha, to pull her close, so that Pyrrha's head was brought to rest on Sunset's shoulder.

Sunset wrapped one arm around Pyrrha's waist, the other upon the back of her head, gloved fingertips almost reaching the base of Pyrrha's long, red ponytail. For her part, Sunset could feel both Pyrrha's arms upon and around her shoulders, and a somewhat weight upon her as though Pyrrha were leaning upon Sunset more than she would have expected.

Sunset didn't mind that. What mattered was that she was here, alive; that being the case, Pyrrha could lean on her as heavily as she liked.

"You're alright," Sunset murmured. "You are…" Her mind caught up with what her eyes had beheld when she had teleported; Pyrrha, yes, but Pyrrha with a bruise on her face that made it look as though she had a grenade in her mouth, Pyrrha with cuts on her face and shoulder, Pyrrha with one eye half-swollen shut.

Pyrrha who seemed to be relying on Sunset to take her weight.

Sunset opened her eyes and looked down to see that Pyrrha was not just favouring one leg; she had lifted one foot wholly off the ground as though even to touch the ground was painful to her.

"You are not alright, are you?" she asked.

Pyrrha made a sound that might have been a very quiet chuckle or else a wince of pain. "I … I'm alive," she said. "That is so much more than others can say that I cannot complain."

She made a sort of shuffling, hopping motion backwards, keeping her arms on Sunset — and indeed Sunset was able to keep her arms around Pyrrha, even as Jaune put out a hand to steady Pyrrha if she needed it.

Pyrrha looked at Sunset with both eyes, but much more with one than the other. "It's good to see you again, as best I can see anything at the moment." She bowed her head, looking down at the ground between them. "I would that I had better news with which to greet you."

"You are alive; that is good news to start with," Sunset told her.

She looked at Jaune now, really looking at him for the first time tonight, for the first time since last night in the dorm room. She had already spoken with Pyrrha today, giving her some sense that she would not object to an enthusiastic reunion, but Jaune … Jaune, she was less sure of.

Sunset felt a little drying of her mouth as she said, "You are both alive." She licked her lips. "Good … evening, Mister Arc."

If he wished to show a lack of cordiality towards her, then the formality would allow him to do so, while shielding Sunset from the disappointment of a closer overture rejected.

Jaune looked at her, just as Sunset had looked at Jaune. He stared at her, his blue eyes inscrutable.

Then he reached out and placed a hand upon Sunsets shoulder. He squeezed, not painfully, with the intention of crushing her aura with his grip, as if he could, but with - Sunset dared to hope - some warmth.

"It's good to see you again," Jaune said. His voice was gruff, or perhaps one might call it hoarse, but none of Sunset’s ears detected any sarcasm there.

Sunset nodded. "Likewise." She looked him up and down and saw that he had no bruises on his face, no cuts on his body, no rents or tears in what passed for his armour that she could make out. "I'm glad, if a little surprised, to see that you've come through this battle in a better shape than Pyrrha. Unless Pyrrha got those wounds in your defence."

"No," Pyrrha said quickly. "No, not at all, I got these on my own account, and with no one else to blame."

"Although I," Jaune paused, letting his arm fall away from Sunset even as he stepped closer towards Pyrrha, his other arm enfolding her about both shoulders. "I might not have come out looking so good if it hadn't been for Cinder."

"Cinder?" Sunset repeated.

"I'm right here!"

Sunset jumped, her whole body trembling, and it was a good thing that Jaune had a hand on Pyrrha, or else she might have toppled over from the sudden shaking. As it was, Pyrrha did not fall, and Sunset was able to keep her hands upon her also even as she turned her head and twisted her waist a little to look on Cinder.

She was the one who had been standing off from the others, and in the excitement, Sunset confessed that she had not paid her sufficient mind else. She stood at the edge of the cliff as though she were about to launch herself off there for Initiation.

Sunset hadn't seen her since the Military Headquarters, when Cinder had stalked off in search of … of her vengeance.

"To be revenged on the whole pack of them."

Clearly, she didn't mean Pyrrha with that, or Jaune. Amber, then? Amber and her confederates?

Sunset could think of no other reason that would bring her here; she struggled to think of one that would keep her here.

Cinder glanced away from her, and curtsied, of all things in all places. "Good even, Miss Shimmer," she murmured.

Sunset would have thought that Cinder was mocking her — there was a part of her that did think that Cinder was mocking her — but at the same time, there was precious little mockery to be heard in Cinder's voice, so if this was teasing, it was very well hidden and very subtly done, so much so that the rest of Sunset wondered if Cinder might be awkward in Sunset's face as Sunset had been before Jaune.

After all, Sunset had been somewhat brusque with her when last they spoke, denying her the chance to speak.

In fairness, I was rather busy at the time.

But I can't really say I'm busy now, can I?

"Cinder," Sunset murmured. "I … I did not think to see you here."

"No?" Cinder asked. "Where…?"

For a while, Sunset thought there might be more to come, but if there was, then Cinder could not frame it, and the lonely word hung there between them, unaccompanied by any other."

"I … know not," Sunset admitted. "I couldn't really think. I wasn't sure who you meant when you talked about your revenge. You weren't very specific, although I was worried that…" She felt that Cinder wouldn't need Cinder's fears spelled out for her. "But it seems you have confounded my anxieties. You saved Jaune?"

"You two had seen each other earlier tonight?" Jaune asked.

"I saved Sunset too," Cinder declared, almost purring it. "I've been a very good girl."

Because you couldn't kill me in a fair fight, Sunset thought, but held her peace because it would have very seemed rather petty and sullen to have brought that up.

"This night has been full of surprises," Pyrrha said. "This one seems less unpleasant than most."

"It was Cinder who—" Sunset began.

"Pyrrha! Jaune!" Penny cried, drawing their attention in the direction of the shattered tower, from which same direction they could see Penny drawing near, moving as fast as she could.

"Penny!" Pyrrha cried, with such evident relief in her voice that Sunset couldn't help but wonder at the circumstances of their separation from her. The two had obviously parted ways, and it seemed that they had done so in a manner that was not altogether safe for Penny. Had she volunteered to lead the grimm away from Pyrrha and Jaune, or something like that?

Penny drew near. "The nevermore flew away," she said. "So when I was sure it was gone, I thought I should come and find you. And here you are! But what happened to your face? And why are you standing on one leg and leaning on— Sunset!" she yelled. "Sunset, you're here as well, and—" She froze for a moment as her green eyes alighted upon Cinder. "You!" she shouted, Floating Array emerging from out of her back, her lasers beginning to snap into place.

"Penny, wait!" Pyrrha cried, surprising Sunset who had been prepared to say much the same. She held out one hand in Penny's direction. "Please, Penny, wait, Cinder is … she saved my life."

Penny's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes," Pyrrha said. "Yes, really. And Jaune's perhaps, and Sunset's too, it seems."

Cinder had made no move. She had made no move to use the bow that she held lightly in one hand; she had made no call upon her Maiden's magic — there was no sign of the flaming corona around her eye — she had certainly made no move to escape from Penny's wrath. She stood in place, as if she were rooted to the spot by her glass slippers, or as if it mattered nought to her whether Penny shot her or no. She said nothing just as she did nothing; she maintained her silence and her stillness both alike.

Penny did not fold her swords and lasers away, but they did droop down towards the ground instead of aiming directly at Cinder.

"How?" she asked. "I'm grateful, but how?"

"I was just about to say," Sunset said, "that it was Cinder—"

"Do not speak of that," Cinder said, before Sunset could proceed any further. "Or, if you must, speak of it privately, another time; I have no wish to hear it. Speak of what has transpired here in this place, if you will, but not of that."

Speak not of your enslavement by Sonata, you mean? Sunset supposed that she could understand Cinder's desire to keep that to herself; it might have preceded a glorious deed on her part in killing Sonata, but the prelude was not her proudest moment. And Cinder was nothing if not proud.

"Very well," Sunset said, for if Cinder did not wish it spoken of, then Sunset was not going to force her to listen. At some point, she would have to tell the story, if only to explain why Cinder wasn't still in custody, but she would respect Cinder's wishes and tell it later, when she wasn't there. "Very well then, Pyrrha, Jaune, Penny … I met Rainbow, Blake, and Sun on the way up here."

"Were they alright?" Penny asked.

"All alive," Sunset said. "Rainbow has an injury but promises that it isn't severe. She took some scars protecting Sun."

"'Protecting Sun'?" Penny repeated.

"For Blake's sake, obviously," Sunset explained. "They told me that you went on while they held off the grimm. That you went on with Ciel."

Penny nodded. "Ciel headed towards the Emerald Forest, to draw the grimm away from us who were on the grounds, so that we could get past them. Only, while she'd lured most of them away, not all of them. A nevermore grabbed me."

"I'm sorry that we didn't come after you," Pyrrha said.

"It's my … it was my decision," Jaune explained. "I thought that … that we couldn't afford to … to waste time going after you when we needed to get to the Vault and stop Amber."

"Such loyalty," Cinder murmured. "Is this not conduct you would expect of me, the villain?"

Jaune ignored her.

So did Penny, for that matter. She said, "I understand, don't worry. I know that Pyrrha tried to grab me with her semblance; I'm sorry, I used Freedom on you — or on your semblance, anyway — because between your semblance and the nevermore grabbing me, I felt like I was being pulled apart, and I couldn't make the nevermore let go so easily."

"I understand too, Penny," Pyrrha said. "And I'm sorry for using Polarity on you when I said that I'd be more considerate, but I couldn't think of anything else to do in the circumstances."

"It's fine," Penny assured her. "The nevermore dropped me off on top of the tower — on what's left of the tower — but I was able to get through to the floor below and hold it off until … until it flew away. I wasn't expecting you to come after me. We left Rainbow Dash and Blake and Sun behind; we left Ciel behind, or Ciel left us, you know what I mean; why shouldn't you leave me behind too? Honestly … I was more worried about the two of you. When we left, there were meant to be a lot more of us facing Amber and the others, but by then, it was just the three of us, then just the two of you. Is that why you were so badly injured, because I wasn't there?"

"You can hardly be blamed for that," Pyrrha told her. "Most of the blame lies with myself. I … asked Jaune to call for help, from Professor Goodwitch or Sunset or anyone else, and then catch up with me."

"But I got jumped by a griffon, one of the other grimm that hadn't followed Ciel," Jaune explained, taking up the story. "It threw me into the school and then buried me under a pile of rubble." He sighed. "I might have been in trouble if Cinder hadn't shown up." He looked at her. "You could have dug me out of there after you killed the griffon."

"I had faith you'd get yourself out eventually," Cinder said. "And time was of the essence, after all; you seemed very concerned about Pyrrha at the time." She glanced down at Pyrrha's leg. "And rightly so too, it must be said. Jaune told me where the Vault was and how to enter, and I entered."

"But what were you doing here in the first place?" asked Penny.

Cinder smiled faintly. "I'm sure you can guess."

"I had gone on ahead, entering the Vault," Pyrrha said. "I … I found that I was almost too late; Amber and the others had entered the inner sanctum and retrieved the Relic. I…" She hesitated. "I fought them; I will not bore you with more detail than that. I fought them, and…" She closed her eyes. "I killed Dove."

There was a moment of silence.

"Pyrrha," Jaune murmured. "I…" He wrapped both arms around her waist. Sunset released Pyrrha, allowing Jaune to step yet closer to her, as she leaned against him, placing her weight on him. "I know what you're going through," he said. "And because I know that, I know that there's nothing I can say to make this better. But, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm right here."

Pyrrha nodded slightly but said nothing.

Sunset swallowed as she watched her. She glanced at Penny. Of the five of them, including Penny in this, three of them now had taken lives: Sunset herself, Jaune and now Pyrrha. Only Penny and Ruby had not had blood upon their blades, which was somewhat ironic, considering Ruby could probably have borne it best of all of them — although Sunset was very glad that Penny had not taken a life.

She could not help but think — fear, yes, but also simply think as much as she might try to dismiss mere fears — that Pyrrha would never forget this. She, Sunset, had never forgotten Adam, and while Dove had not been a part of Pyrrha's nightmares before tonight, he had become a friend to them, which might be even worse than a nightmare. This would be hard on her. Whether it would be harder on her than killing an enemy he didn't know had been for Jaune, Sunset could not say, but she feared that it might be.

Or perhaps not. Perhaps the deathless verse of The Mistraliad and the ancient warrior values of Mistral could offer some way to avoid feeling guilty.

If they did, they didn't appear to be working on Pyrrha at present.

"Amber," Pyrrha said. "Amber was furious, I cannot blame her for it. She attacked me; I could not stand against her magic. My aura broke, and she did me these injuries you see and observe." She paused. "She would have killed me if not for Cinder."

Sunset looked at Cinder. She expected her to take up the tale, as Pyrrha had taken it up from Jaune; she expected, in all honesty, something rather self-aggrandising: a story of heroic combat, of great deeds done in darkness, a story to swell the ego and adorn the name of Cinder Fall.

She got none of that. She got nothing at all; she showed no inclination to speak. She watched them in the same silence that she had maintained when threatened by Penny's weapons.

Pyrrha, realising that Cinder was not going to say anything, cleared her throat. "Cinder saved me, and she fought Amber. She … Amber died."

"She would not have stopped trying to kill you." Now, Cinder spoke, her voice soft. "She would have struck at you had the opportunity arisen. There was a rage in her that would not be sated."

"I do not blame you," Pyrrha said. "I … I grieve for my friend, even as I wonder … but I do not blame you."

"No one blames you," said Jaune. "It was a fight; it … happens."

"Bon Bon's dead too," Pyrrha said, not saying who had killed her. Sunset guessed it was not Pyrrha herself — why admit to killing Dove and then be coy about Bon Bon's killer? — but that didn't answer who it was. Cinder also? Or someone else altogether?

"But Lightning Dust and Tempest Shadow escaped," Pyrrha went on. "With the Relic."

Penny gasped. No one spoke. Sunset … Sunset had not been expecting it, but at the same time … it did not fill her heart with a black dread, even if it ought to have done so.

She could not help but glance at Cinder, whose eyes flickered from Jaune to Sunset to Penny. She didn't look at Pyrrha, only at the other three, glancing at them with an expression that was curious, the slightest twitch of a smile curling one corner of her lip, eyes widened just a tad.

Not smiling at the loss of a Relic, surely?

No. No, she wants to know if any of us will say that it would be better for Pyrrha to have died and for us to have kept the Relic. She wants to see our resolve, or lack thereof.

I wonder what would count as resolve in her eyes and what would be a lack of the same?

She noticed that Cinder's eyes kept on going to Jaune, more than to Sunset or Penny, and Sunset guessed that was because Jaune had spoken in favour of leaving Penny behind. Cinder was waiting to see if he would be so resolute when it came to Pyrrha.

At least, that was Sunset's guess. It made sense to her, out of Cinder's expression.

Sunset sighed and decided to take the plunge, for all that this sort of thing had gotten her into trouble in the past, nevertheless, she would say it and get it over with. "For my own part," she said, "on my way up here, and especially after I passed Rainbow Dash and she shared some disquieting ideas with me, my heart was full of fear over what I would find, who I would find or not find when I got here. Who I might … never find again." She frowned. "But I cannot say that coming here and finding the Relic gone … on my drive, it did not ever make my heart tremble."

"Yet it is what we came here for," Pyrrha said. "We failed. Vain was Professor Ozpin's trust in us."

"From my personal experience, Professor Ozpin could be very forgiving," Sunset reminded her. "Were he here, I'm sure he would have remained very forgiving."

"But he isn't here," Pyrrha murmured. "Is he? He's gone, just like the Relic."

"Obviously, it would be best if we still had it," Sunset admitted. "But…" She closed her eyes. I would not trade you for a thousand Relics, she thought, but that was the sort of thing that really had got her into trouble in the past, so she said, "As I understand, nothing bad will happen until she gets all four, and at present, she has only one, so … it's unfortunate, but not fatal. We must—"

"Don't say it," Cinder said.

"We must not look back," Sunset said instead. "Except to learn … maybe not to tell Jaune to hang back to call for help and catch up after."

Pyrrha winced. "Yes. Yes, that is something I'll remember."

"I'll remember it too," Jaune added.

Pyrrha tilted her head a little upwards towards him. "I really didn't mean to fight the battle by myself," she assured him.

"I know," Jaune said. "I'm not accusing you of anything; you made what you thought was the right call, and I went along with it. But that is how it kind of ended up, until…" He gestured at Cinder with his head. "So we should keep that in mind."

"And maybe have more people with us," Penny suggested. "Or not leave so many behind, or something."

Sunset nodded. If Pyrrha had not been alone down there — apart from Cinder, obviously — then things might have gone differently.

"So, Sunset," Jaune said. "How did you get up here?"

"I couldn't see the dragon from the cliffs," Pyrrha added. "Does that mean that—?"

"Ruby took it out," Sunset said. "Shot it in its weak spot. It's dead, and the grimm are retreating. That's how I was able to get up here."

Penny clapped her hands together. "Well done, Ruby!"

Pyrrha let out a sigh of relief. "And so the glory of the night descends upon her shoulders, for there is little enough of it else to go around."

"If you're all caught up," Cinder said. "Sunset, I wonder if we might have a word." She gestured further along the cliffs, away from Jaune and Pyrrha and Penny and away from the school buildings also, in the direction of the quiet, empty, and abandoned fairground. "Privately."

"A word about what?" asked Jaune.

"If I told you all, it wouldn't be private, would it?" Cinder responded tartly. "Sunset, if you will."

Cinder didn't wait for Sunset to indicate that she would come; she rather set off and trusted that Sunset would follow. As she walked off with long strides that devoured the ground beneath her, Sunset looked at the others.

"I think she's earned a hearing, if nothing else," Sunset said. "Take care of Pyrrha; I'll be back."

Jaune began to use his semblance upon Pyrrha; Sunset lingered just long enough to see the shimmering golden light spread from his hands across Pyrrha's body, cocooning her skin, her cuirass, her gloves and golden ornaments, the long red hair that fell behind her, all of her, before she turned away and hurried after Cinder.

Cinder was not only taller than Sunset but longer in the legs especially, and Sunset had to run to catch up with her; but catch up she eventually did, falling in beside Cinder — Cinder slowed her pace a little, for Sunset's sake — as Sunset was able to stop running and walk alongside. She looked at Cinder — if she had to look a little up at Cinder — and saw that she had found a new black choker for her throat.

"That suits you better than the one she made you wear," Sunset said softly.

"Hmm?"

"The choker," Sunset said.

"Oh," Cinder murmured. "Well, yes, anything would suit me better than that hideous thing." She paused. "And yet, that hideous thing turned out to suit me more than anything, as it turned out."

Sunset frowned, unsure of Cinder's meaning and so unsure of how precisely to respond. The possible meanings that she could guess were not good, to say the least, but she feared a little to venture upon any one interpretation in her response in case it turned out to be the wrong one.

At the same time, though, with the silence between them on the verge of stretching out, she felt as though she ought to say something. "You are no slave to wear a collar."

"Kindly said," Cinder admitted. "But wrong, Sunset, quite wrong. I have been a slave these many years; I have been a slave just as surely as if I had been bound to the galleys as in the days of old. A slave to Lady Kommenos, a slave to Salem; lastly, a slave to Sonata, whose slavery was the harshest of all because she kept my mind in chains, not just my body."

"Yet you broke your chains," Sunset pointed out. "You freed yourself; you saved me, saved Jaune, saved Pyrrha; are these the actions of a slave, servile, cowed, obedient?"

"I was never an obedient slave."

"Then I would question if you were ever a slave at all," Sunset replied.

Cinder chuckled. "I'm not sure that holds water," she said. "But I appreciate you trying."

"And I…" Sunset trailed off a moment. "Thank you for saving them. Pyrrha and Jaune—"

"But especially Pyrrha," Cinder said.

"You said that, not me," Sunset said. "You have my … you are used to flowery words from me, so now let simple ones convey my feeling: you have my thanks eternal."

"It was a trifle to perform this small service for you," Cinder said lightly.

"For me?"

"I did it in part for you," Cinder explained. "Surely, that cannot surprise you."

"I thought you might have done it for Pyrrha," Sunset replied.

"If Pyrrha were an island entire of herself, I doubt I should have bothered," Cinder confessed. "You know she urged me to follow the Relic."

Sunset clasped her hands behind her back for want of anything else to do with them. "That doesn't surprise me."

"As Tempest was getting away, she was shouting at me to go after her," Cinder explained. "It was quite distracting. It let Amber land a blow on me at one point. But I must admit, I was tempted."

"To get the Relic."

"To have my revenge," Cinder said.

To be revenged on the whole pack of them. "So … Amber wasn't your revenge?"

"Amber had far more reason to be revenged on me than I on her," Cinder answered. "Amber and I were enemies; she sought protection from my wrath. In doing so, she betrayed you, but that is an issue for you, not me. No, Tempest, Lightning Dust, Bon Bon, they were the ones who betrayed me, the ones whom I hoped would reap the bitter harvest of my vengeance."

"But you didn't," Sunset said. "You let them go. You saved Pyrrha instead."

"Yes," Cinder said. "Yes, I did."

Sunset said nothing. She waited, to see if there was more to come from Cinder before she replied.

"Journey's end in lover's meeting, every wise man's son doth know," Cinder whispered, looking around her and away from Sunset, as though taking in the view. "I did it for you," she said. "And I suppose I did it for that copperhead girl behind us whose name ever eludes me—"

"Penny," Sunset said. "It's Penny Polendina, is that really so hard for you to remember?"

"Apparently so," Cinder replied. "But more than that, I did it for each of them, the other … and for little Ashley and her parents too. It is … I envy her. Where once I envied her her glories, titles, honours, now … now, I envy that she is so loved. Nobody loves me so dearly. I do not even love myself thus, for my conscience cries out with a thousand voices and proclaims me villain."

"Does it?" Sunset asked, for Cinder had never acted like it before.

"It does now," Cinder told her. "Since … since I was freed from her."

Sunset's eyebrows rose. She hadn't thought that Sonata's death would have so great an impact on Cinder.

I didn't give her the chance to tell me so, did I?

"It … it isn't true," she said, her voice trembling just a touch, her hands unclasping as she made to reach for Cinder's arm, only to draw back before she could touch the crimson sleeve.

Cinder glanced at her. "It isn't true that I am a villain?"

"No, that part is, or was, unfortunately the case," Sunset muttered. "But nevertheless, it … it isn't true that you are…" She swallowed. "Uncared for."

Cinder froze. She stopped in mid step, slipper half pressed down upon the grass. She … it was as though she was trying to look at Sunset noticing that she was looking at her.

She closed her eyes. Her whole body trembled. "Sunset, you…" She stopped; at first, Sunset thought that she had merely paused or hesitated, but it went on too long for that. Moments, seconds passed before she said, "Sunset, I am the Fall Maiden now. With Amber dead, all the magic now resides in me."

Sunset didn't respond. It was obvious now that Cinder had come out and said it, but it had been something that … something that Pyrrha hadn't brought up, and there had been too much that had been brought up, too much told, too much recounted to really think about things like where Amber's magic had gone upon her death.

So Professor Ozpin was right in where it would go. The magic sought to reunite.

Or was it the fact that Cinder slew Amber that granted her the power?

"I see," Sunset said softly. "I take it Pyrrha must know this too."

"She was there when I acquired the other half of the magic."

"At other times, I daresay it would worry her, but I think the fact that you saved her life has driven out such things," Sunset said. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I … tell me true, Sunset, how did you wake Amber up, and why, and … what happened to her, after I attacked her? She disappeared and then suddenly reappeared, walking the streets, what happened?"

Sunset frowned. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just tell me, please," Cinder insisted, rounding on Sunset so that they were face to face. "Tell me, and your debt to me for Pyrrha's life and Pyrrha's debt and Jaune's debt and all is wiped clean with a true tale. Please, tell me; it's important."

Sunset hesitated, but with Amber dead — and Professor Ozpin — she supposed there wasn't too much harm in Cinder knowing what had happened. What could she do with the knowledge, after all, to harm anyone yet living?

"After you … attacked her," Sunset said, "Amber was brought back to Beacon and kept on life support in a … special facility on the campus."

"'On the campus'?" Cinder repeated. "'On the—' She was here the whole time?"

"Yes," Sunset said simply.

"My … my word," Cinder murmured. "She was here the whole time, and nobody had any idea. You are all so very fortunate I didn't find her sooner. I myself am very fortunate I didn't find her sooner." She shook her head. "Say on, please."

"There isn't a huge amount to say," Sunset admitted. "Pyrrha and I, none of us found out about Amber until very recently, just before the Vytal tournament began. That was when Professor Ozpin showed Pyrrha and I her, on her life support. You see…"

Cinder waited a moment. "Go on."

Sunset scratched at the back of her head. "I'm not sure if I should."

"She's dead; what harm can it do?" Cinder asked. She cocked her head to one side. "You and Pyrrha," she repeated. "You and Pyrrha were shown…" She let out a sort of laugh. "He had some plan, didn't he? He wanted Pyrrha to succeed Amber as the Fall Maiden."

"You said that, not me."

"And you did not deny it," Cinder answered. "Come, Sunset, I just saved her life. What do you think I'm going to do, fly back to her and kill her for … for what, for being Ozpin's choice?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," Sunset confessed.

"I suppose I can't blame you," Cinder conceded. "But I told you, my causes for envy of Pyrrha have shifted. They have nothing to do with such things as power any more. And even if they did, I'm the one with the power, so what would I have to envy or resent her in any case?"

That was not an unsound point. "Professor Ozpin had a machine," Sunset said. "An Atlesian machine that would transfer Amber's aura into Pyrrha."

"Transfer her aura?"

"Professor Ozpin hoped," Sunset went on, "that Amber's half of the magic would transfer to Pyrrha along with her aura."

Cinder stared at her, eyes agog. "And this is the man you followed?"

"Did you not do as much to Amber?" Sunset couldn't help but ask.

"Aye, I did, but I was the villain!" Cinder declared. "I was wicked, and I served a wicked mistress; don't you think your captain should be held to a higher standard?"

"I won't deny that there were strong reactions," Sunset said. "From me, from Jaune … even from Pyrrha herself, after her fashion. But Professor Ozpin was desperate, and he did not undertake this plan lightly, and it didn't come to pass in any case, and you have no grounds to stand there and cast aspersions on him, so … don't."

Cinder held up one hand. "Very well, I shall not speak another word against his memory." She paused. "But this plan didn't happen because…"

"Because I brought her back," Sunset said. "I used my magic, from my world, and my semblance, which you've experienced for yourself—"

"Indeed."

"And I went inside Amber's mind or soul or both, and I brought her back." She paused for a moment. With both hands, she clutched at the hem of her skirt. "I don't regret it," she said defiantly, even though Cinder hadn't suggested that she ought to regret it; she hadn't even asked. "What I did saved Pyrrha from a fate that no one could predict; it saved Amber too, for a time. It saved Professor Ozpin having to do something that would have haunted him." She bowed her head. "When I think about what might have happened … I would do it all again, just as I did; even knowing how it would all turn out, I wouldn't change it. I wouldn't let Pyrrha get into that machine; I wouldn't let Professor Ozpin do that to her or to himself. I did the right thing; I believed it then, and I believe it now, and I will believe it yet."

"And I believe you," Cinder said. She rolled her shoulders. "So … Pyrrha. Pyrrha was the old man's choice."

"Yes," Sunset said cautiously. "What about it?"

"Appropriate, I suppose," Cinder murmured. She looked away from Sunset, towards where Pyrrha and the others were; Pyrrha was concealed beneath the golden light of Jaune's semblance, yet that same light made her easy to pick out, a beacon in the darkness.

"Thank you, Sunset," Cinder said. "For everything."

"What—?"

Cinder hit her, a punch that Sunset didn't see coming. They were standing too close, and Cinder was moving too fast; her fist was a blur as it rammed into Sunset's nose.

And she must have put a chunk of her aura behind the blow as well, and a large chunk at that, because in addition to the pain in her face as her aura flared at the damage, Sunset found herself picked up and thrown through the air to a degree that wouldn't have been possible if Cinder hadn't been concentrating her aura. Sunset squawked wordlessly as she was tossed through the air, then cried out as she landed heavily upon her shoulder. She bounced along the ground, rolling over and over, getting mud and grass on her shoulders, on her face, in her hair. Sol Invictus flew off her shoulder and arm, while Soteria jammed into her back again and again as she bounced, denting her aura like little punches adding to the larger blows of her repeated impacts on the ground.

Sunset eventually rolled to a halt, having been hurled so far she was almost at the fairgrounds. An unattended hotdog stand sat a bare dozen feet away from her.

Much further away was Cinder, a great distance opened between them by her blow. She was looking at Pyrrha, or at least looking in Pyrrha's direction.

She held a glass scimitar, the hilt gripped in both hands.

"Cinder!" Sunset yelled, scrambling to her feet, her hands glowing green with magic. If Cinder did try to assail Pyrrha, then—

Cinder closed her eyes and rammed the obsidian blade home into her stomach.

"Cinder!" Sunset shouted as she started to run towards her. "Cinder, w— JAUNE!"

Cinder stood for a moment, eyes closed, blade lodged within her stomach, and yet somehow standing as tall as an ancient tree and as proud as any statue of any king or hero that adorned the streets or squares of Mistral.

Then she swayed in place, her whole body wobbling back and forth, before she toppled sideways onto the grass.

Sunset's eyes were wide, her breath ragged as she teleported the distance separating the two of them. "Cinder?" Sunset knelt down beside her. "Cinder?"

The glass was gone. The obsidian blade that had pierced her had shattered into fragments that lay glistening all around her. The blade was gone, but the wound that it had dealt to Cinder was there for all to see, raw and red and ugly. Blood was forming a growing stain on Cinder's dress, darkening the red fabric in an ever expanding circle.

Sunset took one of Cinder's hands in her own. "Cinder, wh … what are you doing?"

Cinder didn't answer. Her eyes were closed, and she might almost have looked as one dead already if Sunset hadn't been able to feel her pulse.

Her pulse that was already beginning to fade.

"Cinder," Sunset said. "Come on, Cinder, you can't just … I won't let you."

A slight frown creased Cinder's brow, and she turned her face away from Sunset.

Jaune arrived. He had handed Pyrrha off to Penny — the two of them were following on behind, Penny helping Pyrrha along — and now he stood over Cinder and Sunset, looking down on them with mouth gaping open.

"What happened?"

"She stabbed herself," Sunset said. "Come on, I need you to boost her aura."

Although Cinder's aura had not been broken when she struck the blow.

Nevertheless, Jaune would force her to heal whether she wanted to or not.

She hoped he would, anyway. Jaune hesitated for a second, but it was no more than a second or two, Cinder's assistance to them tonight drowning out the memory of her earlier misdeeds as Jaune knelt down beside her and held his hands out over her.

The golden light covered his palms, shimmering brilliantly, rippling like the waters.

Sunset nodded, waiting for the light to spread over Cinder.

It didn't. The light remained confined to Jaune's hands, glowing stubbornly there and nowhere else. Cinder's — Cinder, not dead yet, but dying nonetheless, lay on the ground unlit by that same light, untouched by it as the bloodstain on her dress grew larger still.

"Jaune?" Sunset asked.

"I don't know what's happening," Jaune said. "I'm trying, but … it's like there's something pushing back. Like she's blocking me somehow."

"How can she be blocking you?" Sunset demanded.

"I don't know; this has never happened before!" Jaune cried. "But maybe … maybe she's suppressing her aura so much that it's suppressing my semblance too." He bit his lip. "Sunset, she did this to herself; she might not want to be healed."

"I don't care what she wants right now!" Sunset snapped. She looked down at Cinder. "Cinder. Cinder! What are you … why are you doing this?"

"What's going on?" asked Pyrrha as Penny helped her towards them.

"Cinder stabbed herself," Sunset explained. "And now it seems like she's suppressing her aura so well Jaune's semblance won't work on her."

"Oh my goodness," Pyrrha murmured.

"But why?" asked Penny.

"Because it is … a tradition, for the defeated to fall upon their blade," Pyrrha said quietly. "Not required, but not disdained either. Many who have taken that road are admired for their courage."

"Oh, of all the Mistralian high class crap!" Sunset snarled. "Cinder? Cinder! Cinder, listen to me, you've got to listen, you can't just … you can't … don't go." Sunset's whole body sagged, her head drooping forward, her fiery hair falling down in front of her face. "I don't want you to go."

Cinder … it was hard to tell if Cinder was turning her head away or else it was lolling to one side. Either way, it was turning away from Sunset.

Her breathing was shallow now, the rise and fall of her chest barely visible.

"You might not," Jaune said softly. "But she … Sunset, I'm sorry, but … it's like she’s lost the will to live.”

"'Lost the will to…'" Sunset trailed off. She closed her eyes for a moment. "Okay, fine," she said as she started to telekinetically unbuckle one of her vambraces. "Then I'll just have to give her a reason, I suppose."

"What are you doing?" asked Pyrrha.

"I'm going to go somewhere she can't ignore me," Sunset said, tearing off her glove. "Keep trying, Jaune."

"You're going to use your semblance?" asked Pyrrha. "But, if Cinder dies whilst you're—"

"I mean to make sure that doesn't happen," Sunset said. She let her glove fall down by her side. "Keep trying," she repeated to Jaune.

Jaune nodded.

"Thanks," Sunset said. "Hang on, Cinder, I'm on my way."

She pressed her hand to Cinder's cold cheek.

The whole world was consumed in a blinding light.

Author's Note

I could talk about how the title is a reference to the World War 1 play, or about how the verse that Cinder quotes comes from Twelfth Night, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that the first thing that pops into my own head when I think of 'Journey's End' is Doctor Who.

Cinder's attempted suicide is, of course, an element from the original, but I think it hits more strongly here because a lot more characters have tried to either kill themselves or get themselves killed and the narrative has always set itself against that, and argued that no, it isn't the answer that the characters at their lowest think it is, so now it's part of a pattern instead of just Cinder doing something because she has been brought low.

Of course, she has been brought low, and there is a tradition of Roman generals committing suicide to escape the consequences of defeat, and particularly of being taken captive by their enemies - Brutus and Cassius both killed themselves after Philippi, Mark Antony committed suicide after Actium, Cato the Younger tore out his own entrails to foil efforts to save his life after his own suicide attempt was discovered - and since Mistral is a Greco-Roman society then Pyrrha mentions that this is a Mistralian tradition also, one that Sunset immediately decries.

Jaune's semblance doesn't work because the problem isn't that Cinder's aura is broken, or that she doesn't have enough of it, the problem is that she's suppressing it, and so it doesn't matter how much Jaune boosts it she's still suppressing her aura, it's like multiplying by zero.