All Roads, part two

As the fire of Ozpin's funeral pyre burned out, Ruby prepared to leave.

A part of her would rather not have come in the first place. Ozpin hadn't meant that much to her. In fact, her respect for the man had been … well, there hadn't been very much of it left. He, and his school, had not been what Ruby had expected they would be, not upheld the values she had expected they would.

It was a petty thing, and under different circumstances, Ruby wouldn't have thought much of it, but Professor Goodwitch's eulogy kind of proved Ruby's point. Play up and play the game? This wasn't a game! Real lives were in their hands!

Yes, it was an Atlesian poem, not about Beacon, and Professor Goodwitch had probably just chosen it because it was about a school — which was why, if she'd been feeling better, Ruby would have extended more benefit of the doubt — but … it was unfortunate, at least for Ruby personally.

It was a perfect example of why she hadn't wanted to come and pay respects to a man for whom she had so little respect left.

But she had come anyway, partly because, whatever she'd thought about him, Ozpin had been a hero; he had saved Vale, and so for that alone, he deserved respect, even if Ruby didn't feel it for him herself. And partly … because this wasn’t just for Ozpin. It was for Yang too, in a sense, and for everyone else who had given their lives.

In a sense. That was how Ruby saw it, anyway.

But anyway, she'd come to the funeral, out of obligation to Ozpin’s reputation and for the sake of her sister and others beside Ozpin who wouldn’t get lavish funerals even if they deserved them, but now, the funeral was done. There was going to be a reception in and around Benni Haven's — a place that had come through the entire battle intact, luckily for its owner — but Ruby was under no obligation to stick around for that.

Whether she wanted to … a part of her wanted to turn away, to slip away, just leave. Just creep off into the … daylight.

Another part of her didn't want that at all, if only because it would have felt like letting them win.

"Ruby!"

It was Penny's voice that hailed her, drawing Ruby's attention.

Penny herself approached rapidly, dodging around various other students in order to reach Ruby as quickly as she could.

"You're not leaving right now, are you?" Penny asked.

"I … I hadn't decided yet," Ruby murmured, in case Penny told her that was a good thing as she wouldn't be welcome, then Ruby could steal away with her dignity intact.

"Please don't," Penny urged. "Please, come to the reception. Everyone else is going to be there, and I think … I think that you should be there too."

"Do you?" Ruby asked. "Do you really?"

"Yes!" Penny insisted. "You're a part of … all this, just like me." She paused. "I understand how you feel. I might be the only one who gets why you want to leave so badly. I don't like it, I wish that you were sticking around, but I get it. You want to be free, just like I did. I do. Like I … am I free now, or later?"

Ruby chuckled. She covered her mouth with one hand. "Well, do you feel free? Do you feel like you could do whatever you want and no one could stop you?"

"Yes," Penny said at once. "Yes, I do, although…"

Ruby frowned. "Although what?"

"It doesn't matter," said Penny quickly. "Not right now. What I was trying to say is, well what I actually said was that you want to be free, just like me, right?"

Ruby nodded. "That's right, Penny, just … well, maybe not just like you, but close enough, sure."

Penny nodded. "Rainbow, Ciel, they thought they knew what was best for me, but I had to find my own way. I still have to find my own way. I get it. I understand why you have to go and find your own way instead of letting other people make decisions for you. And I hope you're happy, wherever you go."

Ruby nodded and smiled a little. "I hope you're happy too, Penny."

"It would make me happy if you came inside?" Penny suggested hopefully.

Ruby snorted. “Well, then, how can I say no?”

"Really?" Penny repeated. "You mean you'll come in?"

"I was thinking about it anyway," Ruby said. "But yes, yes, I will. But first," — she reached out and grabbed Penny by the sleeve before she could go anywhere — "what's up?"

"We don't need to talk about it now," Penny said.

"That doesn't mean we can't," Ruby replied. "Come on, what's up?"

"I…” Penny's face fell. "I don't know what to do. Or I don't know where to go. I wanted to stay at Beacon and be a part of Team Sapphire, but now there is no Team Sapphire anymore. Pyrrha and Jaune are going to Mistral—"

"They are?" Ruby asked. She hadn't heard. Nobody had told her, not that there was any reason they should.

Penny nodded. "Professor Goodwitch asked them to go and help your uncle."

Ruby felt a twinge of jealousy that she hadn't been asked to go and help Uncle Qrow fight the good fight, but she had to admit that Pyrrha made more sense to go; she was a Mistralian, she knew the city, and people would probably be begging for her to come home anyway after everything that had happened on Vale this year, and with the CCT down.

And what would she have done in Mistral when she wasn't helping Uncle Qrow? She'd have been bored stiff.

Not to mention she would have had to … talk to him about Yang.

No, Pyrrha could have all of Mistral, and welcome to it. Ruby just hoped that she could keep her powers a secret.

"So, Pyrrha and Jaune are going to Mistral," Ruby said, guessing at the cause of Penny's discomfort. She wasn't so attached to the physical buildings of Beacon Academy, after all. "And Sunset—"

"Sunset's staying in Vale, to help Councillor Emerald," Penny explained.

Ruby had expected that Sunset might have been sent to Atlas by Professor Goodwitch; to hear that she was sticking around here in Vale made her eyes widen. "She's staying to help Councillor Emerald? But Councillor Emerald is gonna be out of a job soon, even he says so; why doesn't Sunset—?"

"Sunset says she's going to help him anyway, even if he isn't First Councillor," Penny explained.

"Right," Ruby muttered.

That was … okay, that was not much different from Iona Rockshaw having Ruby at her beck and call, but Ruby wasn't sure that Aspen Emerald deserved it as much. Perhaps, like Sunset and Pyrrha, you could argue that he meant well, but that didn't change the fact that he was a self-serving liar — a politician, in other words.

Ruby was reminded of the First Councillor encouraging her to enter politics if she thought she could do a better job. Perhaps she ought to be a little less cynical about his motives.

Perhaps he and Sunset were well-matched, both personally brave — it was fitting that they'd gone into the Valish headquarters and saved the city together — but morally less than valiant people who meant much better than they sometimes or often did.

If so, perhaps it was appropriate that they should work together, though how much it would help Vale was something else.

"And you're going somewhere else again," Penny went on. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," Ruby agreed. "And you can't decide who to go with, right?"

"Right," Penny agreed dejectedly. "I want to stay with all of you, but I can only stay by the side of one of you."

"That's a decision only you can make," Ruby said. "That's what it means to be free, but … if you want my advice … stick with Sunset."

Penny blinked. "With Sunset?" she repeated. "Why?"

"Because Sunset cares about you, and I think you'll be happy with her, although I think you'd be happy with Jaune and Pyrrha, too."

"Or you," Penny pointed out.

"I don't need your help, Penny," Ruby said. "I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but it's true. I don't need help, I don't want help, I don't want anyone to get in my way, I … want to be alone, at least for a little while. Pyrrha and Jaune have one another, and I'm sure Pyrrha can find any other help she needs in Mistral, but Sunset…"

Ruby trailed off. It was a little strange, or contradictory, but she felt as though Sunset both needed friends and that they brought out the worst in her. They made her a better person in the sense of being more pleasant to be around, but they also made her worse.

The Sunset of the first few weeks at Beacon wouldn't have made the choice she had under Mountain Glenn. She might have saved herself, but she wouldn't have cared about saving anyone else.

On the other hand, if she hadn't been all alone up in that engine room, then…

"I don't think Sunset should be all alone," Ruby said. "She doesn't … she doesn't deserve to be, and she needs someone around who can help make her … better. Someone who can stop her getting so scared, keep her on the right path." Ruby winced. "Sorry, that makes it sound like I'm telling you where to go based on what would be best for other people, and I guess I am, but only because you'd fit in, and be happy, wherever you went. You're … special that way."

"Why, thank you, Ruby," Penny said.

Ruby smiled slightly. "But, like I said, it's up to you. Only you can make this choice."

"I suppose so," Penny acknowledged. "But you've certainly given me some things to think about. Thank you." She paused. "You … really don't want me around?"

Ruby shook her head. "No offence, but I think it's for the best."

"Okay then," Penny agreed, without any disappointment in her voice, or at least without much. "I'll think about it, then. Now, are you ready to go in?"

"Or nearby, sure," Ruby said, and the two headed towards Benni Haven's, together.

The reception was being held at Benni Haven's. That was a practical choice as much as anything — after having marched all the way up from Vale, who would want to troop back down again so soon? — but it also felt like an appropriate one. The diner wasn't technically a part of the school, but it was in every non-technical sense, and it was a part of the school that had come through intact.

The fact that it was open again, in some sense, so soon after the battle was … hopeful. The future of Beacon was uncertain, at least in the near term, but Sunset almost felt like, if Benni Haven's was still here, then one day, the school would be back, even if the students might not.

And Benni and her husband had put on a good spread for them. It was probable that if you liked eating meat, then you'd find something to enjoy amongst the sausage rolls and chicken wings and most of the sandwiches on offer, but even Sunset was finding enough different varieties of fries and potato wedges for her liking.

She was just getting a cup of tea when noticed Benni herself lingering beside the wall of photographs, all the team photos, the smiling faces.

Benni had told Sunset, warned her on her first visit here, that those smiles wouldn't last forever. How true that had turned out to be in so many ways.

Sunset drifted over towards her, attempting to be intrusive, not speaking; she would let Benni speak first, if she wished to.

Sunset noticed that Benni's gaze was upon the picture of Team BLBL in its second configuration: Bon Bon, Lyra, Dove, and Sky.

All of them dead now; Ciel had found Lyra's body on the grounds after the grimm had retreated. She hadn't given any details as to how she'd died, and Sunset hadn't asked.

"All of them," Benni muttered. "All of them gone."

"Hard to believe," Sunset murmured.

"'Hard'?" Benni asked. "No, not that hard; there's more than them on this wall where the whole team is … but all in their first year? That … that doesn't happen too often, thank gods." She frowned. "And Amber too, huh?"

Sunset nodded. "Yes. Amber too."

Benni shook her head. "Why did they have to come back? They'd gotten away, why couldn't they have just stayed away? To warn me to get out?" She snorted. "Like I'm worth that."

"They … they were very brave," Sunset said. "Although Amber … Amber seemed scared; although I'm pretty sure she was scared, she and her friends were very brave at the end."

It was unfortunate that that was such a pack of lies, but they did not stick in Sunset's craw to tell them. Some lies were kindness, after all: kindness to Amber, to Dove, to Bon Bon, to Lyra, to make them out to be amongst the heroes of the night; but also kindness to Benni too, not to tell her that some of her favourites had betrayed Beacon and killed Professor Ozpin.

And besides, Lyra had tried to do the right thing at the end, according to Rainbow Dash, and Pyrrha said that Dove had fought valiantly, so it was not completely baseless.

Only … somewhat.

"Yeah," Benni said. "Yeah, you're right." She looked at Sunset. "Doesn't bring them back, though, does it?"

"No," Sunset admitted. "No, it doesn't. It will not raise them up, or take away their hurt, or your hurt, but … but so long as they sit on your wall, at least they may resist detraction and live on with the living."

"I sure hope so," Benni replied. "That's why I…" She shook her head. "But I see your team made it out okay?"

Sunset nodded. "Physically, at least."

"That's enough," Benni said. "Trust me, that's enough."

"Believe me, I'm not ungrateful," Sunset said. "Far from it. I wish there were others here as fortunate as me." She paused, and frowned, and fought the urge to disturb her tightly bound hair with her fingers. Instead, she tugged at her tie a little. "What will you do now? Are you going to stay here?"

"Yeah," Benni said, sounding almost incredulous to have been asked. "Where else would I go?"

"But…" Sunset began haltingly. "The school—"

"Will be back," Benni declared confidently. "Maybe not in the next few weeks, maybe not next year, but it'll be back. There might be a new tower, but there'll be new kids, and I'll be there to welcome them and make sure they're eating … maybe not right, but certainly well."

Sunset smiled. "That sounds … I hope you're right, I really do."

"Of course I'm right," Benni declared. "They can't keep Beacon down for long."

Sunset hoped that was true, even if she wasn't going to be a part of it anymore.

"Take care of yourself," she said, as she left Benni with her wall, and with her memories, while she joined her … her friends, and those who were not her friends but who had been Professor Ozpin's associates nonetheless.

Pyrrha, Jaune, Ruby, Penny, Blake, Rainbow Dash, Ciel, and Twilight. Penny had joined Pyrrha and Jaune in wearing a Beacon uniform that was a little bit of an imperfect fit, on account of having belonged to Yang. Ruby had agreed that it was … appropriate that Penny should get to wear the uniform, if only once, and surely, Yang wouldn't have objected. Blake, meanwhile, wore an Atlas uniform that had belonged to Twilight, while Twilight, like Sunset and Ruby, wasn't wearing a school uniform, but instead donned a very plain black dress with a veil that fell from her hair down over her eyes and a skirt that went down to her ankles.

The black mourning armbands showed up much better against the white shirts of the Atlas uniforms than the black jackets of the Beacon students.

Considering that Professor Ozpin had been Beacon's headmaster, Sunset couldn't help but find that a bit inappropriate.

The Haven students had made a virtue of necessity by using their armbands to cover up the white strip on their otherwise black uniforms.

There were so many students come for the funeral — if only for propriety’s sake — that Benni Haven's wasn't large enough to hold them all, and many students had spilled out on the grounds outside, but the nine of them had managed to find a place inside. The tables and the chairs had been cleared away to make more space, and they stood in a corner, huddled together not far from the ursa's head mounted on the wall.

From the other side of the diner, Fluffy bared his teeth at them, a welcoming presence.

Sunset sighed. She took a sip of her tea before she said, "I know that you didn't all have any great love for Professor Ozpin, and I understand why, but … he always tried to do the right thing according to his lights, and I don't believe he ever wished any of us ill, for all that he sometimes asked us to stumble into the path of harm." She raised her teacup. "To Professor Ozpin, let us remember him for the good, and for his good intents."

"Professor Ozpin," Pyrrha murmured, joined shortly after by the Atlesians and by Penny. Ruby and Jaune were initially more hesitant, but they, too, joined in after a couple of seconds.

"And to all our absent friends," Ciel added.

"Absent friends," they all chorused, some with more vigour than they had honoured Professor Ozpin.

A silence settled upon the group.

"New battle honours will adorned the colours of the First, Third, and Fourth. For all the days to come, when all of us and all who fought upon this battlefield are gone, yet the standards will record that these battalions fought at the Battle of Vale," Ciel remarked. "Yet, this does not feel like a victory."

"Because it isn't," Pyrrha muttered.

"We saved Vale," Ruby declared. "The city is still standing and … casualties were … light, for the size of the city and everything that happened." She looked around. "If I had to choose between saving the Relic and letting Vale fall or this, I would choose this, every time. We won where it mattered."

"You mean you won where it mattered," Rainbow remarked.

Ruby said nothing in response, though none would have blamed her had she preened her feathers aught.

“Both of you,” Rainbow added, with a glance at Sunset.

Sunset said nothing either. That to which Rainbow referred did not elate her when set against Professor Ozpin’s passing and the downfall of Councillor Emerald.

She had nothing to be ashamed of in her conduct of that night, but … she had gone with Councillor Emerald into the Siren’s den, and Councillor Emerald, far from being hailed as a hero as was his due, was to be banished into obscurity by the wretched masses. She had planned the death of a great grimm, but Professor Ozpin had died while she was elsewhere.

Every joy of the night had become tinged with bitterness, save only one thing: the salvation of Cinder and the attendant transfer of the Maiden powers to Pyrrha. Of that alone she could take pride untarnished.

But that wasn’t something that she could speak of in this company.

And besides, to boast while others were feeling grim would have been most unbecoming, and so she held her peace.

"Where will Salem strike next?" asked Blake, quietly, glancing around to make sure they were not overheard.

"How should we know?" asked Jaune. "Maybe Ozpin would have known, but I think even he would have had to guess. Professor Goodwitch doesn't know. But … with you going back to Atlas, and Pyrrha and I going to Mistral, and Sunset and Ruby staying here in Vale, then it seems like we're covering all the bases, even the chance of Salem trying to actually destroy Vale."

"What about Vacuo?" Blake pointed out.

Rainbow snorted. "If Vacuo was destroyed, would anyone be able to tell the difference?"

"Rainbow Dash!" Twilight scolded.

"It is all very well to say that we are covering all bases," Ciel said softly. "But we were not strong enough together to—"

"Things will be different next time," Rainbow insisted, before Ciel could go too far down that line of thought. "In Atlas, our Maiden isn't going to stab us in the back for a start, and in Mistral…" She grinned. "You'll be able to go toe to toe with her if she does, right, Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha bowed her head, her brow furrowing.

Sunset harrumphed at Rainbow.

"Sorry," Rainbow winced. "I get that … I know that this isn't all steak and eggs for you, but I still think it's kinda cool. Take it from the north: more firepower is never anything to turn your nose up at, especially not now."

Pyrrha looked up at her. "True," she allowed. "But unlike a new warship, I have to keep this hidden and out of use."

"Yeah, right, that … that's not so great," Rainbow admitted. "Still, my point is, my main point is that wherever Salem hits next, things won't be the same. Things won't be in her favour the way they were, and they won't go her way. The outcome of the next round will be different."

No one spoke. What could they have said? They all hoped it would be so, no doubt, but none could say for certain that it would be so, for all their best efforts. So they said nothing.

"And what about you, Penny?" Twilight asked. "Pyrrha and Jaune are going to Mistral, Ruby and Sunset are staying in Vale; where will you go?"

Sunset looked at Penny, waiting for her to announce that she was going to Mistral with Pyrrha and Jaune. It would make the most sense — Salem was far more likely to assail Mistral or Atlas next than return so soon to a Vale that had nothing to offer her, and she would be able to see Mistral, and, to be frank, Pyrrha would be able to keep her in comfort. Sunset didn't know where she would be staying long-term, although Ruby, with her new mistress, might not have any interest in Penny. It made sense, to Sunset's mind, that the greater part of Professor Ozpin's new Team Sapphire — Team PPJ pronounced pyjama? — should stick together.

And yet, after her eyes had travelled across the gathered group, after she had taken a few moments of pause, Penny said, "I'm staying here, with Sunset."

Sunset gasped as her eyes widened. "You … you're staying here? With me?"

"If that's okay with you," Penny said, her voice suddenly grown cautious.

"I … Penny, I would love to have your company upon my road," Sunset said. "But it is an uncertain road in many ways; I… once Councillor Emerald is thrown from office by his fickle colleagues, I don't know what support or succour he will be able to offer me."

"But you're going to do it anyway, right?" Penny asked. "The road is uncertain, but you're down it regardless?"

"Yes," Sunset said softly. "For my pains."

"Then I'll walk it with you, to keep you company." Penny said. "Pyrrha and Jaune have one another, and there will be lots of people in Mistral who'll help them, and Ruby … Ruby has Starhead Industries. But you'll only have…" Penny glanced at Ruby. "Only someone who won't be Councillor for very long. So I'll stay with you, because you're the person who needs my help the most."

"You shouldn't make a decision like this based on pity, Penny," Sunset told her. "Or even on what you think is for the best, however you might define that. You should decide based on what you want."

"And if staying with you is what I want?" asked Penny.

Sunset stared at her and swallowed. "Then you are very kind, Penny," she said. "You are as kind as your company will be welcome."

Penny smiled, though that smile faltered as she looked around the group. "Will we ever meet again?" she asked. "All of us, together like this?"

“Should we?” Ruby asked.

“Yes!” Penny cried. “At least…” She trailed off for a moment.

Pyrrha looked down at her feet; Jaune looked at Ruby, but his brow furrowed somewhat. Rainbow was frowning too, even as Blake engaged in a very detailed study of the drink in her hand.

Ciel opened her mouth as if to speak, but thought better of it, at least for the moment.

Penny said, “I’m sorry that you didn’t have a very good time, Ruby,” she said. “But … but I did, and I’d like … I’d like to think that this isn’t the end, that this isn’t goodbye forever? Is that so wrong?”

Ruby sighed. “No, Penny, no, it isn’t, you can want it, if you want to. I’m just … I’ll leave you to it.”

“That might be for the best,” murmured Ciel, in a voice as chill as the Atlesian winter.

Ruby didn’t hear her, or at least she affected not to hear her; it was hard to say. She turned away regardless, her red cloak swaying a little behind her as she headed towards the door.

She left a silence in her place, lingering where she had stood.

“You didn’t have to say that,” Jaune said.

“I had to say something, and she deserved worse,” Ciel replied. “She spoke either to be rude or to start an argument; both are unbecoming at a funeral. There is respect to be shown and proprieties to be observed.”

“She has her reasons,” Jaune replied. “Ruby’s … patience has been exhausted, with propriety and respect. She wasn’t…”

“We did not regard her,” Sunset explained.

“Nevertheless,” Ciel said, “this is a funeral, and there must be some measure of decorum observed, even — or especially — here.”

“I guess that we won’t meet again with Ruby,” Penny murmured, a note of disconsolation entering her voice. “At least, it doesn’t seem like she’d want that. But … but what about the rest of us? Do you think this really is goodbye forever, for all of us?”

"If we wish to meet again, then it will happen," Sunset declared, glad that Penny had moved the conversation away from Ruby. "Maybe not soon, maybe not next year, or even in five years, but it will, if we wish it so."

"I wish it," Penny said, clasping her hands together over where heart would have been. "I wish that we'll all meet again, all together safe and sound somewhere.

"Somewhere and some day."

Atlesian airships filled the sky. The surviving cruisers of the First, Third, and Fourth Squadrons, plus their carriers, their medical frigates, and all the other ancillary vessels, not to mention all the fighters that would be flying escort, were all clustered together overhead.

It wasn’t parade ground formation, but it was a tighter grouping than they had maintained at any point since they’d arrived in Vale.

Because now, they were sailing home, or about to, and no ship was to be left behind or stray too far from the others.

In between the warships, sheltering in between them, were the civilian skyliners, filled with Atlesians who come for the Vytal tournament, other Atlesian nationals who had come to Vale for work or lived here for months or years — SDC employees, for example — who had suddenly realised that they yearned for the chill snows of home. And on board some of those airships, there would be Valish who had decided that Vale itself was not the place to be right now.

Like Leaf’s mother, stepfather, and stepsister, maybe. Remembering them was enough to make the back of Rainbow’s neck itch. She didn’t … well, no, to be honest, she did feel guilty, because they were Leaf’s family, and Leaf loved her mom really, Rainbow was sure — not to mention the fact that they’d sounded pretty desperate to get out of here.

But it had been out of Rainbow’s hands, and Blake’s. Sunset should have told them that, although Rainbow could see why she hadn’t; it wouldn’t have been an easy conversation, and they might not have believed her anyway. Instead, Rainbow had had to tell them that there was nothing she could do, it was out of her hands, she couldn’t guarantee them a berth aboard an Atlesian cruiser because that wasn’t in her power.

She had submitted a request to General Ironwood for them to be given consideration, but she was pretty sure it had been declined.

She hadn’t heard anything either way, which Rainbow thought might be the General pretending she hadn’t sent anything so he didn’t have to ask her what she was thinking.

That might be for the best for anyone except the Kellys, or whatever the guy’s surname was.

Maybe they’d managed to get a place on one of the skyliners. Rainbow kinda hoped so.

Otherwise, she was left hoping that Vale would calm down and they’d realise they didn’t need to leave after all.

Anyway, whether Leaf’s family was aboard or not, there were plenty of skyliners up in the air, to be escorted home — or to Atlas, in the case of the fleeing Valish — under the safety of Atlesian gunpower.

Assuming they didn’t — they wouldn’t; they wouldn’t meet another grimm like that dragon. There couldn’t be many of the like in the whole of Remnant.

One had been bad enough.

Some of the ships up in the sky above still carried their battle damage from the fighting; it wasn’t as though there were facilities to repair them here in Vale. Squadrons were flying with lower than the requisite number of airships; some squadrons, Rainbow knew, were practically ghosts. Just like some teams had only one or two members left.

Like Team FNKI.

Rainbow’s eyes found the Comfort, near the centre of the Atlesian formation. Neon was still aboard, still floating in her plant dust tank. With the extent of her injuries, she might not wake up by the time they reached home, although surely not long after that.

She was the last of her team, and she wasn’t the only one in that position.

Still, for all that there were teams with empty places, for all that there were squadrons with airships missing, for all that the cruisers bore scars and claw marks on their armour, despite all of that, morale was pretty high. When they had carried the colours of the three battalions aboard the Skyrays, the troops had cheered.

And honestly, if you didn’t know about Relics, and the fact that they’d just lost one, then why wouldn’t morale be high? As far as most people knew, they’d just won a splendid victory. They’d saved Vale and withstood more than one horde of grimm at a time. As far as most people knew, as far as the soldiers knew, as far as the books would record, three Atlesian battalions had taken almost everything the grimm could throw at them and come out on top, even if they did need a little help from some huntsmen and huntresses at the end.

Nobody would ever know about the Relic of Choice, but they would remember Colonel Harper rallying the line, they’d remember Trixie and Sabine bearing the colours to safety, they’d remember the Vigilant dancing through the air; they might even remember her, Blake, and Ciel helping kill the Apex Alpha. They’d remember the things that had gone right.

And thinking about it like that made Rainbow remember those things too.

Yes, morale was high; for all their losses, the troops — and the students too — were returning home as victorious heroes, not limping off in defeat.

Speaking of heroes, Weiss was stood in the Bus, already waiting. Rainbow was going to fly her up to the fleet along with Blake and Ciel — Twilight was up on the Crystal Heart with everyone else, somewhere amongst the gathered fleet ready to set off.

In just a second, once they’d said their final goodbyes.

Sunset, Jaune and Pyrrha were waiting for them on the docking platform, but it was Penny to whom Rainbow turned her attention as she looked away from her own airship, and from all the other airships either waiting in the sky or flying to join them.

Penny was stood just a couple of paces in front of the others, her hands clasped together in front of her.

Rainbow … Rainbow couldn’t think of anything to say. She knew that she ought to say something, but knowing that she ought to say something wasn’t the same as being able to think of anything.

“Are you … are you looking forward to this?” Rainbow asked. “To what comes next?”

“It’s not quite what I wanted,” Penny admitted. “But I’m sure it’ll be a lot of fun.”

“And you’re sure that you’re going to be okay?” Rainbow asked.

“Are you going to tell her that there’s dinner in the fridge and she can call if there’s an emergency?” Sunset asked.

“Shut up!” Rainbow snapped. She snorted. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“We’ll manage somehow, won’t we, Penny?” Sunset asked.

“I’m sure we will!” Penny said. “I’m sure that, in spite of everything, we’ll manage to have a lot … we’ll manage to have some fun along the way.”

Rainbow grinned. “That’s the spirit.” She put one hand on Penny’s shoulder. “I never thought that this year would end like this, but so long as you’re happy, then that’s what matters.”

“I am happy,” Penny said. “I can be happy, anyway.” She looked between Rainbow and Ciel. “I … I won’t forget everything that you did for me, or Twilight, but now it’s time for me to find my own path, with my own friends — my own friend. And hopefully, I’ll make some new friends along the way; we both will.”

“A single close friend can be worth more than a hundred casual acquaintances,” Ciel said. “But do not let that stop you striving to raise the number.” She looked at Sunset. “Take care of her.”

“We’ll take care of one another,” Penny said.

Ciel winced. “Forgive me, I … old habits.” She stepped forward, moving quickly, as though afraid that if she stopped for a second, then she’d lose her nerve. She stepped forward quickly, and before anyone could react, she’d planted a kiss upon each of Penny’s cheeks. “Though you have chosen a different path amongst these southern lands and southern folk, yet you were born of the north, and as such, the Lady’s grace may shine upon you yet. And I pray she will.”

Penny smiled. “That’s very kind, just so long as she doesn’t stop watching over you too.”

“Fear not,” Ciel said. “The Lady has as many eyes as there are flakes of snow, and none at all; nothing passes beyond her sight in the whole north or anywhere we northmen set our feet or plant our standards.” She looked away from Penny, and to Jaune and Pyrrha. She bowed to them, about thirty degrees at the waist. “Comrades, farewell. Until we meet again, I wish you good fortunes in the wars that I fear will come upon us all ere long.”

“I fear you speak true,” Pyrrha murmured. “Fare you all well in turn. Tyche Agathe.”

“I would prefer providence to fortune,” Ciel replied. “But I accept in its proper spirit.”

Blake took a deep breath as she looked across the team. “I … couldn’t have done this without your help,” she said. “When even Rainbow Dash thought me an enemy, you came to my assistance. I won’t forget it, not ever, though it’s ten years or more until we meet again, I won’t forget.”

“We couldn’t have done a lot without your help either,” Jaune offered.

“Maybe,” Blake conceded. “But nevertheless … I’m in your debt.”

“No,” Sunset said. “No, you aren’t. No debts, nothing like that, not when we can’t talk to one another, not when we might not see each other for who knows how long. We shouldn’t leave that like that.”

Blake hesitated for a second. “Alright,” she agreed. “But if you can ever call upon my help again, and you need it, then I’ll do whatever I can. And I’ll miss you, and this place.”

“For a while,” Sunset murmured.

“Good luck in Atlas,” Jaune said.

“I hope you’re happy there,” Penny added.

Blake smiled. “I’m sure I will be.”

“And that you can keep on adding more lustre to your name,” Sunset said. “With more crimes uncovered and conspiracies unmasked.”

“I hope there aren’t any more secret slave rings,” Rainbow replied. “But we can try.” It was time to go. There was only time to say, “It’s been fun,” before she turned away, and headed towards her waiting airship.

Blake and Ciel swiftly followed, the three of them leaping aboard, as Rainbow closed the side door.

She looked back to see Penny waving to them from the docking platform, along with Sunset waving too, albeit less enthusiastically than Penny.

Rainbow waved back, and Ciel raised her hand for a moment, only to let it fall again as soon as the door slid shut and concealed them from view of those outside.

“She’ll be fine,” Rainbow assured her.

“Yes,” Ciel said softly. “Yes, she will.”

“At least she’s not alone,” Weiss said. “So long as you remember that, I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Rainbow looked at Weiss. “You’re not alone either,” she reminded her. “So long as you remember that, I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Weiss looked at her. Her blue eyes seemed to gleam particularly brightly. “Do you mean that?”

“Yeah!” Rainbow said, surprised. “Yeah, of course I mean it.”

“Then you will visit, won’t you?” Weiss asked. “You… please, visit. If you don’t… I will need some company in that house.”

“Will we be allowed in?” asked Blake.

“Yes,” Weiss replied. “Yes, you will; I’ll make certain.”

“Then we’ll be there,” Blake assured her. “Because you’re not alone. Because neither of us have to be alone again.”

At first, if only thanks to its colourful markings, it was possible to make out Rainbow’s special airship — lucky for Rainbow Dash that it hadn’t been around for her to use it during the battle, or it would have wrecked by now — as it made its way off the docking platform and into the sky.

Then, as it joined the throng of other Atlesian airships heading up into the sky, it became harder and harder to make out, one Skyray amongst many Skyrays that filled the air, and even its rainbow paint job was not enough to distinguish it.

And so it was impossible to tell which ship bore Blake, and Rainbow Dash, and Weiss, and Ciel; just that one of them did, one ship amongst many airships of the final wave of Atlesians making their way up to their cruisers and other vessels. Students, soldiers, tourists and civilians with roots, frightened Valish, all of them heading up to the waiting airships, the cruisers and the Skyliners, all of them preparing to fly away from here, far from here, to fly northwards like migrating birds, flying to colder climbs for winter.

Like migrating birds in reverse, perhaps.

Still, though they could no longer make out Rainbow’s ship, the bulk of Team SAPR remained upon the docking pad, the ruins of Beacon looming behind them, watching as the Atlesian fleet gathered in its minnows prior to departure.

“Vale … Vale is gonna be okay without them, right?” Jaune asked, moving his arms like he was about to fold them, but then seeming to decide that he wouldn’t, after all.

“We can still stay if it would make you feel better,” Pyrrha offered.

“Vale will … Vale will be fine,” Sunset said. “Without you and without the Atlesians.”

“Are you sure about that?” asked Jaune. “I mean, about the Atlesians, I mean, not about us.”

“Yes,” Sunset said firmly, or at least with what she hoped was the semblance of firmness in her voice. “Vale will … Vale will endure, it must. It shall. Vale survived the Vacuan invasions, the fall of the Pentarchy, the loss of Mountain Glenn, a hundred tribulations besides; Vale has endured as much as Mistral has, and it’s still here, even as Mistral is. It will endure this too.” She smiled. “Penny and I will make sure of it, won’t we, Penny?”

“Y-yes!” Penny declared. “Yes we … we’ll certainly try, won’t we?”

“We will,” Sunset declared. “And … Counci— and former Councillor Emerald—” His resignation was but a day old, delivered to the impatient public — and his even more impatient party, and his most impatient heir apparent —- scarcely ere Professor Ozpin’s ashes were cold upon the pyre, and so she had not yet got into the habit of acknowledging his fall in station. “And former Councillor Aris … Cardin … and Ruby too. Ruby most of all, perhaps, Ruby and her young patron.”

“Twelve years old,” Pyrrha murmured. “She would not be the first young princess to step forward and provide the leadership that was lacking in her elders.”

“My point is,” Sunset said, “that this kingdom is full of good men and women; though it has not of late covered itself in glory, Vale is not without advantages, not helpless, not without hope.”

The people of Vale were not so good that they had recognised what a good man they had in Counci— former Councillor Emerald, but Sunset supposed that they couldn’t be blamed too much for one mistake.

She would be a fine one for holding mistakes against people.

Despite that mistake, there was still strength in Vale, in Cardin, in its former servants who, though they had been rejected, were no less loyal to Vale; in Sunset herself, perhaps, and Penny … and Cinder.

And in Ruby.

“And from amongst their ranks,” Sunset added, “a true hero will emerge to provide the leadership this kingdom deserves and requires.”

“How can you be so sure?” asked Jaune.

“Because it is ever thus; how can it be otherwise?” Sunset replied. “Great need will call to greatness; it must be so.” She paused a moment. “I do not know this young princess, as Pyrrha calls her, but Ruby finds her worthy of her service, and for myself, Cou— dammit, Aspen Emerald will not let this kingdom fall.” She took a deep breath and felt a sudden heat, or … she started to sweat, a sudden sweat came over her as though the sun had suddenly increased in temperature, or as if she’d suddenly woken up to find she had an exam she hadn’t studied for. “And … as I am his sword, neither will I.” She looked Jaune in the eye. “I … swear it.”

“Is the need that great?” Penny asked. “I mean, with the Relic gone already … what need does Salem have with Vale any longer, right?”

“There are other dangers than just Salem,” Jaune murmured. He, too, took a moment’s pause before he said, “But I trust Ruby to handle those — and you, both of you.”

Their attention was drawn from the discussion and back towards the Atlesian fleet by a sound like the exploding of a rocket. Sunset looked up; for a moment, she feared that the Atlesians had been the victim of some covert attack or that some Valish idiot, perhaps animated by the last vestiges of the late Sonata’s magic, was firing on their ships before they left. It was not, fortunately, and thank Celestia it was not so; instead, the fire had come from one of the Atlesian ships themselves: not a rocket, but a firework emerging out of the side of the cruiser to burst in vivid green off the port bow.

When the Amity Colosseum had arrived over Vale, the Atlesian cruisers had welcomed it with fireworks in green, blue, white, and yellow; now, as they bid farewell to Vale, the Atlesians said goodbye with fireworks that were exclusively Valish green, popping over the skies and the rooftops as the ships began to move away.

They moved slowly at first, like trains pulling away from the station. Then they began to speed up, at least to the speed that their civilian ships would allow. They moved off like a herd, the cruisers arrayed protectively around the civilian vessels and the carriers, which would make the small escort airships those little birds that lived off larger mammals, Sunset supposed.

The whole mass moved in unison, a flock of iron and steel driven on by dust, letting off their fireworks as they moved off from Vale.

Sunset’s eyes fell from the fleet for a moment, down to the city below, and she could have sworn that down in Vale below she could see people stood on the rooftops waving Atlesian banners, shouting their farewells and their good wishes up to the army that had saved the city.

Sunset wondered if the Atlesians were aware of it, and hoped they were.

“You know,” she said, “the city skyline is going to feel pretty empty now.”

For half of the year, the Atlesian warships had been there, hovering over the streets, looming overhead, casting a shadow that had felt protective, comforting, never intrusive or threatening.

They had been a sort of armed comfort blanket, and now, that blanket was being taken away, recalled by the adults who owned it and who needed the children to learn to make do on their own.

Would they, could they make do on their own?

Sunset supposed that they would soon find out.

She hoped she was right about Vale being able to stand on its own two feet.

Because it would have to.

Neon floated in a tank of plant dust.

The dust added to the solution gave the liquid in which she was submerged a green tint, lending it a somewhat eerie aspect for all that it was undoubtedly doing Neon good.

She floated above the bottom of the tank, suspended and supported by the liquid, held at more or less the level of Ciel’s own face.

Her red hair, streaked with blue, was all undone, and in the liquid, it danced about her head like plants in water, or like those animations of mermaids with their luscious manes constantly in motion.

“You know that I could rock a mermaid outfit. And I’m a faunus, so it wouldn’t even be appropriating anything.”

Ciel could hear Neon’s voice in her head, but it brought her no comfort.

No comfort at all, for the voice was only in her head and not out here, in her ear, coming from Neon’s mouth.

For Neon’s mouth was stopped up by the air mask strapped to her face, with a pipe connecting it to the air supply concealed atop the tank.

Most of her face was hidden, but if her eyes were open, Ciel would have been able to see them.

Neon’s eyes were not open.

She was unconscious, floating in a tank designed to heal her injuries, but those injuries were tremendous and required a great deal of healing.

Ciel looked. She forced herself to look. She would not look away from what the grimm had done to Neon … from what Neon had endured for her sake. She would not look away from the burned stumps of her limbs, the marks across her body that were hidden only by the minimal white undergarments in which she had been dressed, the bra across her chest and the pants below. Everything else, all that remained, was plain to see, and what remained … if Neon were not unconscious, then how much pain would she be in?

Enough that it were a mercy that she was unconscious, perhaps, although it brought Ciel no joy to see it so.

She was all alone here; there was no one else. No one but Ciel and Neon and the other occupants of the tanks; they were monitored remotely, so there was no need for anyone here aboard the Comfort to be here to physically watch them at all times.

There was no need for Ciel to be here either; it was not as though Neon could talk with her. Many would say that she could not even hear her, but Ciel … Ciel yet hoped that … Ciel could not leave.

There was nowhere else that she would rather be than here. Stood before Neon with a book tucked beneath her arm.

She took a step forward, and then another, and raised her hand to press her fingers to the glass of the tank.

She was so close that she could see her reflection in the glass, the image of her own face set over Neon’s masked visage.

She looked a very picture of dejected misery, and why should it not be so when her dear friend was before her in such a state?

Ciel closed her eyes and leaned her head forward; she felt her forehead touch the glass with the softest of thumps.

“I … I should speak my heart,” she whispered. “But I cannot, for I fear that if I were to try and speak my heart, then … then my heart should break, for it is only by wrapping it with iron bands that I am able to hold it together as it is.”

Her brow furrowed, her unhappy expression twisting into a frown. “Why?” she asked. “Why for my sake?”

“Because you’re worth it.”

“No,” Ciel whispered. “No, I am not.” She opened her eyes. “But you … you are, and so when you wake up, I … I will stay by your side for as long as you need me. I will do all I can for you, I swear it.” She sniffed. “You need not face this alone.”

She paused for a moment, taking a step back away from the tank. “I don’t know if you heard any of that,” she admitted. “Probably not, although I pray that you did. I pray you heard, I pray you understand, I pray you know that … that I am with you, not for repayment of a debt, but because you are dear to me, and to my family too.” She tried to smile. “Aurelien needs his hero cat back.”

The smile died on her face, replaced with a ragged sound, not quite a sigh but almost.

“Speaking of which,” she went on, as she pulled out the book that she had underneath her arm.

“I do not know if you can hear this, as I said,” Ciel said, her voice rising a little. “But in the hope that you can—”

“You’re going to read to her?” Rainbow asked as she walked into the room with the plant dust tanks. Blake was a step behind.

“I … yes,” Ciel said, blinking. “What are you doing here?”

“Seeing how she’s doing,” Rainbow said softly, as if she might disturb the sleepers in their tanks if she spoke too loud. She looked for a while at Neon, floating in the tank, and Rainbow’s expression crinkled visibly as she did so. She glanced at Ciel. “Seeing how you’re doing, too.”

“I am … I am as you would expect,” Ciel muttered, for what was the point in trying to insist that she was fine?

Blake walked around both Rainbow and Ciel, until she was stood on the other side of Ciel, her eyes on Neon all the while.

“She told me once that faunus were stronger than humans,” she said. “If she’s right, then she’ll pull through for sure.”

“She most certainly will,” Ciel said. “For she is the strongest person I know.”

Rainbow let that pass without comment, saying instead, “So, what were you going to read to her?”

Ciel looked down at the book in her hands. “This is one of Neon’s favourites, it is called Rogues in the Tower.”

“I tried that one; it’s about thieves, isn’t it?” Blake asked.

Ciel nodded. “Neon would prefer to follow the convention of the title and call them 'rogues,' but yes, thieves in an old city in pre-Mistralian Anima, a world steeped in superstition and the sword.”

“Sounds like fun,” Rainbow said.

“I hope so,” Ciel said. “I hope that she can hear it.”

She glanced from Rainbow to Blake. It was clear that neither of them had any intention of leaving.

Ciel was glad of that. She thought, though she might not admit it, that Neon might be glad of it too.

She opened the book and cleared her throat.

“It was a cold, dark night to be creeping across the rooftops of Coranham, but that is exactly where Felix found himself…”

The last airship was leaving for Mistral.

Unlike the Atlesians, the Skyliners that hovered in the air above the city had no warships to escort them home; the Zhenshou had survived the battle, but it legally belonged to Vale now, and though it might have been a fine and chivalrous gesture to allow it to escort the people of Mistral homewards and then return to Vale, Vale's straits were a little beyond fine and chivalrous gestures at present.

After everything, Pyrrha could hardly blame the new First Councillor for wanting to keep his ship at home, especially given how he had become First Councillor.

Still, it meant that there was a certain uncertainty about the journey home, for the Haven students, for the Mistralian tourists, for Pyrrha and Jaune, whether their journey would be untroubled by grimm along the way.

Pyrrha's own journey to Beacon at the start of the year had nearly been partly in company with an Atlesian cruiser; would it or another such ship still be there, still patrolling its lonely route in the absence of orders from the centre? Or, with the CCT down, would it have sailed home to Atlas like the fleet at Vale, to place itself at General Ironwood's disposal?

They would have to trust in luck, or in the valour of the huntsmen and huntresses to bring down any nevermore or the like that might cross their path.

Seven ships hung in the skies overhead, although from the interior of the skydock where Pyrrha stood, you could only see one or two of them out of the windows, the ceiling obscuring the others; still, she had seen them before they entered the building; they were an almost even mixture of Valish and Mistralian airships, the modern and metallic Valish designs lined up alongside the intentionally archaic Mistralian aesthetic. One single ship, of the Valish type, still waited at the skydock, grounded, waiting for the last few people to board — including Pyrrha herself.

Not everyone aboard these ships was a Mistralian; in common with the Atlesians, there had been Valish people who had decided that their own kingdom was not the safest place in the world to live, not the best place to call home right now, and so they sought out other, hopefully safer, environments abroad.

Pyrrha wondered how much they really knew of Mistral and what they expected to find there. There was much beauty in her home, true, and much to be admired in art, culture, and suchlike … but there was also much to wrinkle one's nose at, as Arslan could tell you far better than Pyrrha herself. Pyrrha feared that at least some of these people, setting out for Mistral with high hopes of a new home there, would find themselves trapped in the lower slopes, prey to every kind of scum that roosted there.

She hoped it would not be so, but thought that unless they had money with them, then it would be.

It sounded harsh, to hope that only those with means were fleeing, but the truth was that if they did not have means, then they were probably better off staying here in Vale.

Some might have said that they would be better staying here in Vale regardless — including the Valish authorities, which were trying to persuade people to stay — but that was not for Pyrrha to say.

Only that it would be best if they had properly considered the consequences of their decisions without doing anything rash.

Time would tell. About that and about a great many other things.

Pyrrha had one hand upon the handle of her case; it felt lighter now than it had done when she had come here. Thanks to Penny's laser slicing through the dorm room wardrobe, she had lost a great many of her clothes — some of which she would have to have remade; she had been quite fond of them — and thus, her case was comparatively empty. It felt somewhat strange; weren't you supposed to come away from a place with more than you had arrived with?

Perhaps you are, except when a friend fires a laser through your wardrobe. Or a grimm tears through your room and destroys your books.

Besides, she was not leaving with nothing from her time at Beacon; in her case, she had one of the two … it felt strange now to call them relics, given what they now knew of the real Relics, but she had one of the white knight pieces that they had collected in the Emerald Forest during Initiation, the white knights that had made them Team SAPR. She had a copy of the team photograph from Benni Haven's, and she had what nobody knew she had — although Jaune would certainly find out in due course — a complete set of their Vytal Tournament figurines, including Penny, that she had picked up shortly before leaving. The figures of her, Penny, and Jaune had been in a sale, while Ruby and Sunset had not, but even with her access to funds somewhat restricted by the destruction of the CCT, Pyrrha could have afforded them all at full price.

Even to herself, she could not really explain why she had bought them or what she planned to do with them, but … when she had seen them, it had been … she had been seized by impulse, by instinct, she had been compelled as if some god had put the thought into her mind. Perhaps she had simply wanted the reminder to carry with her.

In any case, they were in her luggage.

And, of course, she had her memories. So many memories, the good and the bad, of a year here, in this place, with these people. A year that had, on the whole, for all its ups and downs, been rather wonderful.

Jaune was stood beside her; he had a rucksack slung across one shoulder, which looked as though he had even less to take with him than Pyrrha did.

"Are you sure you've got everything?" Pyrrha asked.

Jaune smiled with one corner of his mouth. "Yes. I hardly brought anything with me, remember? There's not much to take. Besides, anything I need, I can get in Mistral, right?"

"Yes," Pyrrha agreed. "Yes, you can, if it's nothing personal." She paused for a moment. "And you're sure that you're okay with this?"

"For the last time, Pyrrha, yes," Jaune insisted. "Yes, I'm fine with this. You're not … you're not dragging me across the ocean against my will. This is my choice, and it's the right choice too." He reached out and brushed his fingers lightly against her cheek. "So stop worrying about it before we get in the air and you decide to ask the pilot to turn around and land again so we can get off."

Pyrrha stepped back and away from him. "Jaune! I wouldn't do such a thing!"

Jaune looked at her, eyebrows rising.

"I…" Pyrrha glanced down. "I wouldn't do such a thing unless I thought that was what you really wanted," she murmured.

"What I want…" Jaune began, trailing off. He reached under her chin, putting his fingers beneath it and tilting her head upwards to look at him. "I'm not going to say that this is what I want, because of all the ways this year could have ended, this isn't how I would have chosen it to go, and I know that it's not how you would have chosen it either; but of the choices that we have left, this is the one I choose, so in that sense … in that sense, yeah, it is what I want. And it's what you want too, right?"

"It is," Pyrrha said, without hesitation, because if Mistral was in danger, if Salem chose to attack there next, then she would rather be there to defend it than to hear of its fall from desperate refugees fleeing the city in all directions. But she was glad, very glad, of Jaune's words; she would have hated to think that she was compelling him to journey far from his heart.

"I'm sorry I've harped on this," she said. "I must have driven you mad."

Jaune chuckled. "It was kinda nice to know that you were thinking about it," he said. "But … yeah, it also got a little bit much by the end there."

Pyrrha covered her mouth with one hand as the smallest laugh escaped her, before she turned her attention to the others, stood in front of them, waiting.

Waiting for them to leave, waiting to say goodbye, waiting.

"Now that our departure is finally settled," Pyrrha said, in a light, self-deprecating tone, "I don't suppose I can persuade ei— any of you to come with us."

She had almost said 'either,' taking it for granted that Ruby would not leave Vale, certainly not to come to Mistral with them, but it would have been rude to have presumed, and she had caught herself just in time.

"It would be wonderful to have you as my guests, again or for the first time," Pyrrha went on.

"That would be wonderful," Penny agreed. "And maybe it'll happen someday, I hope so, but right now…" She looked at Sunset and shuffled half a step closer to her.

Sunset glanced at Penny. "I … I cannot, I have responsibilities here, and I have given my word to Coun—” She snorted angrily. “I have given my word to Mister Emerald."

"Of course," Pyrrha murmured. "I wouldn't want to make you an oathbreaker, of course."

"But Penny," Sunset went on. "You don't have to stay here out of pity for my sake."

"Sunset," Penny said. "Are you going to be like Pyrrha and keep asking me and asking me if what I'm doing is really what I want to do?"

Sunset's equine ears pricked up. "You're not going to stroke my face, are you?"

Penny paused. "Would you like me to?"

Sunset shrugged. "I … probably best not. I … take your point, I guess, that I should just take what you say at face value and take your decision and all that, but … Pyrrha had a good reason for acting like that, and so do I; I don't want to be the reason you're unhappy."

"And I won't be unhappy with you," Penny insisted. "But even if I was, which I won't be, that would still be my choice, just like you staying here in Vale to help Councillor Emerald is your choice even though it makes you unhappy."

"It doesn't make me unhappy!" Sunset squawked.

"You'd rather go to Mistral with Pyrrha and Jaune, wouldn't you?" Penny insisted.

"I…" Sunset swallowed. "I'm doing what I must, Penny. What I feel like I must."

"I know," Penny agreed. "Because that's part of … I'm staying by your side, Sunset, and that's the end of it. Unless you tell me that you don't want me."

"No," Sunset whispered. "No, I won't say that."

"That's settled then," Penny declared triumphantly, with a firm nod of her head. She glanced at Pyrrha. "I'm sorry, Pyrrha."

Pyrrha smiled. "There is nothing to apologise for. Nothing at all." She held out her hands to them. "Though lands and oceans may divide us, you are, and will ever remain, my dear friends, and the aid of the House of Nikos will be at your disposal, should you ever have need of it."

Penny stepped forward, throwing her arms around Pyrrha and enveloping her in a crushing embrace, an embrace so tight that made Pyrrha's aura flare up, and a sharp, clenching feeling spread up her back.

Pyrrha didn't object, didn't speak out, didn't do anything to stop it. She welcomed it. She had no doubt that she would miss this once it ended.

"I'll miss you," she said. "Meeting you all was the best thing that ever happened to me—"

"So far," Jaune suggested.

Penny giggled. "Yes. So far, I guess. But still … I wish that we could have spent more time together."

Pyrrha put her arms around Penny in turn. "Likewise, Penny, but we may still have hope for the future."

Penny released Pyrrha from the embrace, and turned her attention to Jaune. "Goodbye, Jaune," she said. "I … I'm sorry that we didn't get to know one another more."

Jaune patted Penny on the shoulder. "Me too," he said. "Take care of yourself, Penny."

"You too," Penny replied. "And when we meet again, we can tell each other everything that's happened."

Jaune chuckled. "Sounds like a great idea."

To Sunset, Pyrrha said, "It is strange, but I feel as though we've said our best farewell already, and it could not be equalled."

Sunset laughed. "Another display of melodrama like that would be a bit much, wouldn't it?" she agreed. "But our parting is not so sad, nor perhaps even so permanent as we thought the last one might be. It is … one new thing that I must say is that I fear I have laid a weight upon your shoulders and fear you may begin to resent me for it."

"No," Pyrrha said at once, shaking her head. "The burden that you speak of … I will either prove equal to it or I will not, but either way, it will not be your fault, and not being your fault, I will not blame you for it. Not to mention that I hope very much to prove the equal of this thing."

"You will," Sunset said at once. "You … I have no doubt you will. You had Professor Ozpin's faith, and you have mine too. You are…" Sunset wiped away at her eyes with one finger. "Ah! Here they come again; this is ridiculous." She shook her head. "I will miss you terribly, if you didn't already know that." She glanced at Jaune. "Jaune … I'm sorry."

"I know."

"For all—"

"I know," Jaune said. "I know, just like Pyrrha knows how much you'll miss her." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled letter. "This is something that I wrote for my family; it has letters to my parents and sisters in there, telling them that I'm alive and where I'm going. Will you go to Alba Longa and make sure that they get it, answer any questions they have? Within reason, anyway; don't tell them about … you know."

"Yes, I think I can guess where the lines are," Sunset said softly as she reached out and gently took the letters from out of Jaune's hand. "I will see it delivered, you have my word." She held the letter by her side as her green eyes flickered between the two of them. "I would tell you to take care of each other, but you'll do that anyway, so instead, maybe my last piece of advice to you: find some help. I know that Ruby's uncle is there in Mistral already, but … it will be hard with just the two of you, and maybe dangerous. I'd feel better if there was someone else you could rely on."

Pyrrha nodded. "There is some force in that." After all, it had required the aid of six people for her to reach the Vault and face Amber and the others, and she would have died if it hadn't been for Cinder. She was the Fall Maiden now, and possessed of magic, but that magic did not make her invulnerable; Amber was proof of that.

And Pyrrha had already admitted to Jaune that she couldn't do this by herself; she had meant being the Fall Maiden, but one might also add being Professor Goodwitch's servant in Mistral, or Mistral's protector.

She had been the Champion of Mistral; she was the Vytal Champion; but the world outside of the arena was too big for one single champion to bestride it all.

The only issue would be what to tell people; how much they were allowed to tell them.

"We'll think about it," Jaune promised. "Very carefully."

"Then my fears are a little put at ease," Sunset said. She reached out and put her hand for a moment upon Pyrrha's honour band. "Go with … Tyche Agathe."

"And you," Pyrrha said, "and all of you."

She looked away from Sunset, and from Penny, in Ruby’s direction. Ruby stood off from the other two, looking down at her scroll, seeming unconcerned by their long goodbyes or by the fact that Ruby was not included in them. She had other things to occupy her; she could afford to wait for them to finish.

That, at least, was the impression which she sought to give.

"Ruby,” Pyrrha said softly. “Ruby, I … I'm sorry, for the way things turned out."

Ruby glanced up from her scroll. “Mmm,” she murmured, which was to say she gave practically no answer at all.

She reached behind her and pulled out a letter of her own, a little thinner-looking than the one that Jaune had just handed to Sunset.

"Jaune, I've got a letter too," she said, stepping forward to proffer it. "It's for Uncle Qrow. It talks about … about Yang, and about Professor Ozpin, and stuff like that. When you find him in Mistral, will you make sure that he gets it?"

"Sure," Jaune said. "Of course I will." He reached out to pluck the letter from her hand.

Ruby let him take it, but then she clasped her hand firmly about his arm, holding it for a second or two, for a little longer, looking up at him.

"Don't get discouraged," she said. "Don't doubt yourself, and especially don't let those fancy Mistralians make you think you're less than you are. You're Jaune Arc, and you're as good as any of them." She smiled. "But also could one of you say hi to Juturna Rutulus and her brother for me, let them know that I'm still alive and that…? Tell them that I took their advice."

"Okay," Jaune said. "I mean, Pyrrha might be better off talking to them than me, but one of us will. And I'll remember everything else that you said, too."

"Great," Ruby said, releasing his arm. "Because it's all true."

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of Jaune folding Ruby's letter up and putting it into his pocket.

The goodbyes had been said, or at least goodbyes had been said, the best goodbyes that could be thought of in the moment, and yet…

Parting was such sweet awkwardness.

Pyrrha was almost glad to hear Arslan shout from behind her. "Hey, P-money! Come on, or we'll sail without you!"

Jaune winced. "I think that's our cue."

"Indeed," Pyrrha murmured. She took a breath. "Farewell. Until the happy day we meet again." She turned away, because if she lingered more, then … then it would only prolong the sorrow, and it had been prolonged enough already.

Perhaps there was some merit to a swift goodbye.

She turned away, and Jaune turned away with her. They began to walk out of the skydock, towards the doors that led onto the landing pad and the waiting airship. They were to the rear of a stream of people, students and civilians, making their way in the same direction towards the same destination: the airship, and then Mistral.

"Goodbye!" Penny yelled out.

Pyrrha twisted her body a moment to wave to Penny, but then turned back once more, wheeling her suitcase behind her towards Arslan, waiting at the doors.

"How did that go?" Arslan asked as they reached her. She pushed the doors open, and the three of them walked out into the sunlight shining down from above, strolling across the tarmac to where the airship sat upon the ground.

Pyrrha paused for a moment. "As well as could be expected, I think," she said. "I hope."

"I have to say," Arslan said, "I'm a little surprised at you two heading home — or heading to Mistral in your case, Jaune — like this. I thought you'd stick around and see if Beacon reopened."

"Well…" Pyrrha paused a moment, wondering how much she could tell Arslan.

Even if she wished to tell her more than she knew, even to tell her all that Pyrrha knew, it would hardly be the best time to tell her now.

"I am called home," Pyrrha said. "And Jaune has very kindly agreed to accompany me."

Arslan frowned. "You are called home?" she repeated. "Called by who? Could you be any vaguer than that? You sound like a cryptic old seer!"

"Vague, I will grant, but hardly cryptic," Pyrrha replied, a touch of defensiveness in her voice. "I—"

"Wait up!"

The voice belonged to Nora, shouted at high volume as she and Ren burst through the doors and dashed the distance separating them from Pyrrha, Jaune, and Arslan. Ren had a rucksack slung across both his shoulders, while Nora was carrying a large round, tube-shaped bag in one hand, that banged against her legs as she ran.

"Great, you're still here, and so is the airship," Nora said. "For a second, we thought we might miss you."

"Nora," Pyrrha said. "Ren, what are you—?"

"We're coming with you!" Nora said brightly. "You're going to Mistral, right?"

"Yeah," Jaune said. "But—"

"Professor Goodwitch asked us to accompany you," Ren said. His lilac eyes narrowed somewhat. "Although she didn't say why."

"She asked without saying why, and you just … decided to do it?" asked Jaune, slightly incredulously.

"She's always been good to us in the past; I'm sure she knows what she's doing," Nora replied. "And besides … with Yang gone—"

"And Beacon's immediate future somewhat uncertain," Ren added.

"We thought maybe it was time for a change of scenery," Nora finished. "So, what do you say, fancy some company?"

Pyrrha glanced at Jaune. He nodded.

"You would be very welcome," Pyrrha said. "I look forward to getting to know you better."

How about that, Sunset? We have some help already.

I hope it reassures you.

If only there was something that could befall you that would reassure me as to your future prospects.

Penny — along with Sunset and Ruby — had left the skydock, because from outside, it was much easier to get a good view of the airships flying away. Inside, there was a roof in the way, obviously, but outside, they could just look up into the sky and watch as the airship made their way slowly eastwards, towards the mountains, and then … and then to whatever was on other side of the mountains, the place where Ruby's mother had come from, a wild place. And then after that, there was the sea, and then … then they'd be in Mistral, or at Mistral. The kingdom of Mistral, not the city of Mistral.

"They'll be alright," Penny said. "Won't they?"

"Once they reach Mistral, they'll be fine," Sunset assured her. "You haven't seen it, but Pyrrha's house is pretty big. She lives in a mansion, with servants and wealth and luxuries. The only problems she'll have in Mistral are—"

"The grimm," Ruby said. "Salem maybe. Jealousy. Professor Lionheart being a traitor—"

"Yeah, okay, Ruby," Sunset said. "My point is that those are all … they can handle those kinds of trouble, but they'll be handling them from a much easier starting point than, well, us. You and me especially, Penny; I expect Starhead Industries has some deep pockets, even if it doesn't have the same respect in Vale as the House of Nikos does in Mistral."

Penny nodded. "And they'll get to Mistral, won't they?" she asked. "They'll make it just fine?"

Sunset nodded. "Yeah, yeah, they will," she said. "They'll make it no problem, guaranteed."

Sunset was lying about that, Penny thought, but she wanted to believe it, so she didn't question it. She didn't say anything; she just watched the airships lazily sail away, moving slowly compared to the ships that had set off for Atlas, their wings beating slowly up and down, up and down.

They were moving so slowly that it left a lot of time for something to go wrong along the way.

Be okay, both of you. Make it to Mistral safe, so that we can meet again someday.

Penny bowed her head. She felt … all she had wanted was to live with her friends, and now, her friends were scattered across Remnant.

And they'd get more scattered still, very soon.

She looked at Ruby. "This is it, isn't it?" she asked. "You're leaving too, right?"

Ruby didn't quite meet Penny's eyes. "There's … not a lot else worth hanging around for, is there?" she asked. "I need to go too, make my way to Starhead Island and beg Iona to take me on early."

"'Beg'?" Penny asked. "But what if she says no?"

"I won't take no for an answer," Ruby said, which sounded cool, although Penny wasn't sure how much sense it made. "If she wanted me as I am … she can have me as I am. If she didn't want me for three more years, or if she wanted the person she thought I might be in three years, why not just wait to make me the offer in the first place? I'm sure that she'll … and if she really doesn't, then I'll do my best anyway, without Starhead's deep pockets or soon to be former Councillor Emerald … what is it that you expect him to do for you, exactly?"

"For me?" Sunset asked. "Nothing. I expect him to tell me where to go and fight things."

"Can't you just work that out for yourself?" asked Ruby.

"How?" Sunset replied. "Especially since I'm not a huntress, especially with the CCT down? Should I look in local newspapers for reports of suspicious deaths? For that matter, how are you going to find your missions?"

"Maybe I'll look for suspicious deaths," Ruby said. "You know what I think. I think that you like having someone tell you what to do, where to go; that way you don't have to take responsibility for your decisions."

Sunset gasped as she put her hands on her hips. "Excuse you! I do too take responsibility for my decisions! I take so much responsibility it feels like I'm being stabbed sometimes — and sometimes, it hurts even worse!" She sucked in a sharp intake of breath. "But I … I believe in hierarchy, that there are those who are set above the common run, those who are better than the rest, and that those people should be the ones making decisions, not just any random person with an idea in their head."

"So it isn't that you don't want to take responsibility; you just don't want to make choices," Penny said.

Sunset made a funny noise, maybe laughing but not quite; it almost sounded as though she barked or huffed or … Penny wasn't quite sure what the word was, but Sunset made a noise like that, anyway, and said, "Well, considering some of the decisions I've made, can you blame me?"

Ruby snorted. "Do you want an answer to that?"

"I think I can guess," Sunset muttered.

Ruby glanced away for a second. "Sunset, can I be honest?"

Sunset's eyebrows rose. "You haven't been up until now?"

"I think it's a good thing that Pyrrha's gone and you're staying here, because you … do you want to know what the one thing is that would make you a better person? You need to not be so scared all the time. You need to … I know that the world is a scary place, and what we're doing is kinda scary too, and I also know that you're not a coward; that's not what I'm getting at; I know you'd die for Pyrrha, you'd die for Penny, you'd even die for me still, I think, but … okay, it's actually two things, sorry, not one, you need to not be so scared about what might happen to your friends, because when dying for them isn't a choice, you do terrible things for them … but at the same time, you need to learn to start dying for people you don't like."

Sunset was quiet for three point four seconds. "I feel like you've jumped to the hard mode there; can't I start by learning to die for people I feel indifferent towards?"

Ruby said, "This isn't a joke, Sunset."

"I know," Sunset muttered. "Believe me, I know."

"Care more," Ruby said. "But also don't care so much. If you can do that, then you'll be a better person."

Sunset frowned. "The first … I will concede," she murmured. "The second…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ruby, but the second one is just not possible. My heart … is who I am; all I can tell you is that I won't let it lead me into such a swamp as it did before."

Now, it was Ruby's turn to be quiet, for two point eight seconds, before she said, "I believe you. I … yeah, I believe you. I wish you could give me a better answer, but, yeah, I believe you." She shook her head. “You were never meant to be a huntress.”

“No,” Sunset admitted. “But then, I won’t be a huntress now, will I?” She paused. “We’ll neither of us be huntresses. We are to be sworn swords, warriors serving our chosen masters.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ruby said. “I’m going to be a huntress, just … with a powerful patron behind me.”

“Of course,” Sunset said quietly. “Forgive me, I forgot.”

Penny wasn’t sure that Sunset actually believed Ruby, or was just saying something so that she and Ruby wouldn’t fight about it.

“But you,” Ruby went on. “Yeah, I guess you are going to be like some old knight in a story, doing what a king tells you, going where he tells you. Or like an Atlesian specialist, following orders. Only he has no right to give you or anyone else orders; he’s just some random guy you’ve chosen to serve and obey.” She frowned. “Why do you like him so much?”

"He's a good man, trying his best," Sunset answered. "A good man whom I have tried somewhat and owe him a debt in consequence."

"That's about what I thought it might be," Ruby said. "Anyway, good luck working for him, even when he is just a guy."

Sunset took Ruby's hand in what looked like a firm clasp. "And good luck serving—"

"Working with," Ruby said.

"Your young princess," Sunset finished. "I hope it goes well for you."

"I hope it goes well for Vale," Ruby said. "I hope that we both do well, fight well, and keep people safe." She looked at Penny. "Sorry, that should be the three of us."

"It's okay," Penny said. She grabbed Ruby and yanked her away from Sunset to pull her into a hug. "When I said that meeting you all was the best thing that ever happened to me, that includes you. Don't forget that. Please don't forget that."

She felt Ruby's hand upon her shoulder as Ruby said, "Take care of Sunset. Keep her on the straight and narrow."

"I'll…" Penny looked at Sunset, whose face didn't offer much help. She didn't look offended by it, so Penny said, "I'll do my best!" She saluted.

Ruby let out a snuffling snort. She took a step back, looking from one of them to the other as a breeze ran outside the skydock to make her cape ripple in the wind.

"People are counting on us," she said. "We can't let them down."

And then she'd turned her back on them, running away, trailing rose petals in her wake, running away at the top speed of her semblance, disappearing out of sight faster than Atlesian or Mistralian airships had managed to do.

Penny looked at Sunset. They were the last two now, the last two left.

The last of all their friends.

Put like that, it sounded very lonely, but at least she still had Sunset.

Sunset to whom she moved a little bit closer.

"So," she said. "What now?"

Sunset sat amidst a field of flowers.

She was sitting on the grass, somewhere behind the Green Line, beyond the walls of Vale whilst still being in recognisably Valish territory, and poppies grew around her. The red flowers, like drops of blood, like the rose petals that fell from Ruby's semblance, stretched out in blotches all around her, clumps of them rising from the grass.

Sunset had found a gap amidst one such clump, and now she saw blades of grass getting in her tail, with her motorcycle lying almost on its side in another poppyless patch just a little behind her.

Slung on one shoulder, she had a haversack containing her meagre possessions: a stuffed unicorn, a white knight chess piece, an older chess piece that she'd found in the Emerald Forest during the first mission of what had become their battle against Doctor Merlot, the Dark Regalia of Evenfall Gleaming, which might have come in handy if she’d had them with her in the battle. There were a couple of changes of clothes in there too, but they had less weight for her.

And into that haversack would go the magic journal, which presently sat upon Sunset's lap, once she had finished writing in it.

She had not even begun to write in it at present. The page sat open before her, the pen was in her hand, but she had not yet begun to write.

There seemed so much to write about, to potentially write about, that it was hard to decide where to begin.

She looked around, ears twitching slightly. Penny had left her for a moment — she would be returning soon — while Cinder…

Sunset couldn't see either of them, but that mattered little at the moment because it was a beautiful sight that confronted her, the splashes of colour rendered by the poppies upon the green. It was so peaceful here, she could hear the birdsong undisturbed, undrowned out by any other sounds; it was almost idyllic. It was hard to believe that this area had been the site of a great battle only a few days earlier.

If only things were always this peaceful in Remnant.

Sunset bent her head, turning her attention away from the poppy fields and to the blank page in front of her.

Her hand was firm as she began to write.

Dear Princess Twilight,

If you aren't in a position to answer at present — maybe you've gone to Skyros for all I know — then don't worry about it. It might even make things easier. Nevertheless, please don't show Princess Celestia this entry as I would rather write to her myself than have you convey in some form some of the information that I'm about to give you.

Professor Ozpin is dead.

He was

Dead? Your headmaster is dead?

I thought you might not be here.

It just took me a second to get to the book. He's dead? Really?

I wouldn't lie or joke about something like that.

No. No, of course you wouldn't. Alright, I won't show this to Celestia. I'm afraid she can't come to speak to you herself; she's in Manehatten right now.

That's fine. As I said, I'll speak to her myself. She deserves to hear this from me directly. As directly as possible, anyway.

You're right. Though they only spoke once, she seemed quite fond of him.

She wasn't the only one.

How are you doing?

Such a simple question, and yet so hard to answer. I Sunset took a moment to consider. How was she doing? Sunset: I'd rather give you all the details and then tell you; otherwise, it will be very hard.

There was a pause of a few seconds before Twilight answered. Okay. So how did he die? Was it peaceful?

Probably not. He was killed by Amber.

Amber? Amber, the girl you saved?

The very same, unfortunately. She betrayed us and made a deal with Salem that she would hand over the Relic of Choice in exchange for her freedom, that Salem wouldn't hunt her anymore. We didn't find that out until very recently, until it was practically happening to tell you the truth, although we could have learned it if we'd trusted Cinder. You see — I'm afraid you'll have to bear with me a little bit because this gets complicated — in order for her deal with Amber to hold, then Cinder would

Would be left out in the cold. She had half the magic, but she would never get the other half. Why would Salem betray her like that?

That's right, well done. As to why, I think it might have been because of things like the time Cinder helped us against Merlot or maybe the time Cinder fought the duel against Pyrrha. Maybe Salem was just fed up with the way that Cinder didn't seem to be getting anywhere. In any case, Cinder guessed that she had been betrayed, and she tried to kill Amber. But we fought her and defeated her, but Pyrrha declined to kill her, and she was arrested instead.

And that's when she told you that Amber had betrayed you all.

Yes, but we didn't believe her.

I can understand why.

We have excuses, but it doesn't change the fact that Cinder was right, and that if we'd believed her and acted on what she told us, then Professor Ozpin might still be alive.

And the fact that Cinder happened to be right doesn't change the fact that she'd given you scant reason to trust you. If Chrysalis showed up and told me that Starlight was planning to betray me, then I'd have a hard time believing her, absent any proof. It's natural to want to believe the best in your friends; I'd even say it's a good thing.

Ruby would disagree with you. She says I care too much. She knows about what I did.

There was another pause from Twilight. Twilight: You mean when you made your choice on the train.

Precisely.

How did she find out about that?

That part doesn't really matter; the point is that it came out, I confirmed it, and everyone knows now. Well, Ruby knows, Pyrrha, Jaune, Penny, Blake, Rainbow, Ciel, the other Twilight, they all know. Other people think that it was all faked, a wild accusation aimed at me. But they know the truth.

And did they take it as badly as you were afraid they might?

Ruby, definitely; Jaune, kind of at first, but he cooled down or calmed down or whatever pretty fast; Pyrrha and Penny took it better than I could have hoped for. Mind you, even Ruby doesn't seem angry anymore, just disappointed. Hence her telling me that I care too much.

As I might have told you before, I'm not sure that's possible. Even when it leads to actions that may strike others as too much, that's not the result of the care itself but of other qualities: rashness or forethought, desperation, lateral thinking. Somepony could care as much as you do, or more, and still come to a different conclusion. To reduce it to an abundance of care, or suggest that to care less is the solution is reductive, and wrong, in my opinion. The answer is to think differently, not to feel less.

That advice is so tailored to myself and to flatter my sensibility that I feel like I should distrust it on principle.

Hah. Well, you can decide for yourself. But did this happen at the same time as you found out Amber?

Yes, it did. I think it was intended to distract from whatever Cinder might have told us, not that that was really required.

So what happened?

Sunset decided to skip over her momentary exile from Beacon. It was an interlude that was not worth going over again, especially given what had happened to Beacon. Nothing happened to Amber, to our sorrow. She was left alone, and during the course of a grimm attack on Beacon at the close of the Vytal Tournament, she was able to slip away from the school unnoticed.

A grimm attack?

Yes. Orchestrated by Salem to provide cover for the theft of the Relic. We have passed through a great battle, and Professor Ozpin is not the only casualty of the fighting.

Twilight's next words came slowly, haltingly, as though she was struggling to write, or perhaps simply feared what the answers might be. Your friends, are they all There was a pause. Did they make it okay?

Sunset closed her eyes for a moment. They are all alive, thank Celestia, but Flash was badly hurt.

Oh my, Celestia. Do I want to know how bad it was?

I don't know, do you? Probably not. I don't want to think about it myself, still less to inflict such thoughts on you. Let's just say that it was bad and leave it at that. Fortunately, Atlesian medical technology is as advanced as all their other technology, but that still doesn't change the fact that he was hurt in the first place. Councillor Emerald, to whom I have come to feel a certain fondness, was shot, by a Siren.

Grimm and a Siren?

And more besides, it was a very long night. A long night, with much loss but also, for some, much glory. Ruby is acclaimed as a hero for slaying a mighty grimm that had vanquished all other defences and beaten a path to the walls of Vale itself. I myself have some recognition for helping Councillor Emerald resolve a crisis within the city, but I would trade all of that in a heartbeat for a healthy Flash, or still more for Professor Ozpin to be alive.

No doubt you would. You said Amber left; I take it she came back then?

Yes, she did, when everyone else had left Beacon — the battle there was at that time concluded — and killed Professor Ozpin and tried to take the Relic from out of the Vault.

'Tried'?

Sunset sighed. Some of my friends found out what was going on and went to stop her: Pyrrha, Jaune, Penny, Rainbow, Blake, Ciel. Oh, and Blake's boyfriend Sun, for some reason. Anyway, they were too late to save Professor Ozpin, and most of them ended up tied down in various battles, so it fell to Pyrrha, alone, to confront Amber and her allies.

I'd say I don't like where this is going, but you've already told me that all your friends survived.

Well, I'm aiming to build suspense for you, although even by Pyrrha's own admission, it was touch and go for her. She was saved by Cinder.

By Cinder?

Yes, by Cinder, who saved me too by killing the Siren.

But I thought you said she'd been arrested?

I also said it was very complicated. Cinder was arrested, then she was handed over to the Siren, then she rebelled and killed the Siren, and then she ended up at Beacon somehow where she saved Pyrrha's life. Amber is dead, but the Relic was gotten away by some of Salem's servants.

So one of your friends didn't make it. Or does she no longer count because of her betrayal?

No, no, that's a fair point. Obviously, I wouldn't trade Pyrrha for Amber, but I do regret that Sunset ran her free hand through her hair, brushing against her equine ears. I regret that it came to this. I regret that all this happened; I regret the consequences that have flowed from all of this. You ask me how I feel, Twilight; I feel regret. I feel regret, and I feel tired. I feel bone tired, not just from all the running around I did a few nights ago, but because

She closed her eyes and screwed up her face; Twilight couldn't see it, but she didn't press Sunset for a conclusion to her sentence, didn't start to speak; Sunset found that she could half-imagine her, waiting patiently on the other side of the book.

I am tired of death and destruction.

Twilight still didn't reply for a few moments. I don't think anyone could blame you for that. It doesn't sound as though any of this was really your fault, but I suspect that you know that already, and just hearing it — or reading it — from me won't change how you feel. So, what happens now, with Professor Ozpin gone, and Amber too?

Now my friends are scattered. Pyrrha and Jaune are gone to Mistral, at Professor Goodwitch's request, to oppose the will of Salem there if she should turn her gaze upon that city next. My Atlesian friends have sailed home to Atlas, by order of their council. Ruby has gone to work for a group called Starhead Industries, who will treat her with more deference than I did. Penny and Cinder are all that remain with me.

Cinder? Cinder again?

She saved Pyrrha's life, and mine. She defeated the Siren, she surrendered the powers of the Fall Maiden up to Pyrrha

From what you've told me, that doesn't sound like a wholly good thing?

It isn't, but it was well meant on Cinder's part, no poisoned chalice. She meant to do the right thing, and when it comes to the magic of the Maidens, I'm not sure there is an unalloyed right thing; there are only the best choices available, and I believe that Pyrrha was the best choice. Cinder did the best she could in the circumstances. I'm sure that Pyrrha will manage, with Jaune's help, and in the heart of Mistral as she is, where she is well respected. All the more so now that she has won the Vytal Tournament.

That sounds Another pause. almost irrelevant.

Sunset snorted. You're not wrong, but it will carry weight in Mistral. But anyway, my point is that Cinder has surely earned my trust after all that. You've embraced ponies to your side for less.

Who'd done less too. But I take your point. There's no need to make someone jump through hoops before you forgive them; in fact, I'd argue that if you do, it isn't really forgiveness.

It's a good thing Cinder didn't do it for my forgiveness, then. She did it — she saved Pyrrha, at least — because she cares. And so here she is. I have her, and I have Penny, when all others are gone beyond my power to help them.

I'm a little surprised you didn't go to Mistral with Pyrrha.

I would if I followed my heart, but I can't abandon Vale or Councillor Emerald, not after the trouble that I've caused for them. Once again, I'm serving Councillor Emerald, or Mister Emerald, as he is soon to become.

As a huntress?

Something like that.

Something a little less like that might be better. You said yourself you're tired of the death and destruction; aren't you afraid that this conflict is going to grind you down? It worries me, from reading what you write. I think it must worry Princess Celestia too, and will doubtless worry her more when she hears from you herself. Surely, there must be something you could do that would take less of a toll upon you.

A little late for that now.

It's never too late.

Yes. It is. For me, it is. This service is what I owe the world.

You don't owe that world a thing, certainly not your life.

I'm not trying to get myself killed.

And I'm not talking about your death, I'm talking about your spirit.

My spirit will be fine.

Because Penny and Cinder are with you? I must speak my mind, Sunset, I don't know how much I believe you. Do you believe yourself?

Yes. Yes, I do. I suppose I can understand why you feel this way, with what I've said or how I've put it, but I can keep going. For Professor Ozpin

That sounds more like 'must' or 'feel like I should' than 'can'?

It's can. It's both. I can do this.

I hope you're right. I just don't want to see you burn out to nothing, and I know that Princess Celestia doesn't want it either. Promise that you'll take care of yourself, for the sake of Princess Celestia if nothing else.

I promise. For what it's worth, I don't think that what comes next will be as bad as some of what came before.

I hope you're right.

So how about you? Have you made it to Skyros yet?

No. To be honest, I haven't even really thought about it since Twilight stopped abruptly. Now, it was Sunset's turn to wait patiently for her to resume her sentence.

Sorry, I've got to go. Princess Celestia has asked me to come to Manehatten and help her.

Sunset's eyebrows rose. Trouble?

I didn't think so, but I suppose I'll see when I get there.

The work of a princess is never done. Okay. Later on, I'll shut up, and you can tell everything that's been going on with you. I expect a lot of happy news.

I'll do my best. Until then, goodbye, and again, take care of yourself.

You too; have fun in Manehatten.

She closed the book, staring down at the symbol on the cover, her cutie mark, the sun that was half burning red, half golden.

She wasn't quite sure what it really meant.

As Sunset ran her fingertips over the embossed symbol, a shadow fell across it.

"That looks like an old book," Cinder observed. "Very old, to have no title. What's it about?"

Sunset looked up at her. "Where have you been?"

"Here and there, like a will-'o-the-wisp," Cinder replied. "Keeping out of sight, out of trouble. When you're supposed to be dead, you can't go around attending funerals or saying goodbye to all one's friends — if I had any friends." She stretched out her arms on either side of her, moving them back and forth. "So, what now?"

"Now," Sunset said, climbing to her feet, "we wait for—"

"Sunset!" Penny cried as she cycled up to them across the grass.

She was riding a bicycle — a pedal bicycle, not a motorbike — of pastel pink, with glittering streamers on the handlebars and a white basket on the front adorned with flowers. Her helmet matched the colour of the bike itself, being pink with blue stars on it. She was pedalling furiously, her legs moving frantically as she achieved speeds that Sunset's motorbike could have obtained, and though she swayed from one side to another as she came, she maintained an admirable balance for how fast she was going. She dodged and swayed her way through the poppy patches without once disturbing the flowers before finally coming to a stop close to Sunset and Cinder.

"Look at this!" she cried. "Isn't it adorable!"

"It … it's certainly very cute," Sunset allowed. "Although I did think you'd get something with an engine."

"I looked at some of those," Penny said. "None of them were as cute as this. Plus, I don't have a licence for a motorcycle, but you don't need one for a regular bike."

"That … is a very good point," Sunset allowed. "Still, it looks like you can move pretty fast on that thing as it is. Anyway, we're all here now."

"Hmm," Penny murmured.

"Nice to see you too, Penny Polendina," Cinder said.

"You remembered?" Penny asked, sounding a little wary.

"I thought that I should make the effort," Cinder replied airily.

"Hmm," Penny said again. "You were saying, Sunset."

"I was saying that we're all here now," Sunset said. "And that means that we can get going. Councillor Emerald—"

"Whilst he remains Councillor Emerald," Cinder murmured.

"Told me to go to Mount Aris; former Councillor Aris has accommodation for us set up there. For me and Penny, at least, but I'm sure there'll be room for a ghost as well."

"The dead are used to living simply," Cinder said.

"But first, I have to go to Alba Longa," Sunset said. "I have some messages to deliver."

She telekinetically lifted up her bike but did not mount it yet; she simply wheeled it along the ground, moving slowly — or slower at least than she would have moved while riding — across the grass, with Cinder on one side of her and Penny on the other.

"I won't pretend to know what the future holds," Sunset said, "because, after all, who could have guessed that we three would end up like this?"

"Not I, for sure," Cinder said.

"Me neither," admitted Penny.

"But whatever comes next," Sunset went on, "we'll be okay, and we'll get through it, because we're together. And all our friends will be okay too, because none of them are alone. They've all got someone looking out for them, until we see them again."

And so, the three of them walked across the rolling fields, into the bright light of a new day.

Author's Note

And with that, finally, the first phase of this story is complete - again! This rewrite turned out to be a much bigger thing than I envisaged that it would be when I started it, and it turned it to be a very different beast than I had planned as well, when I look back at what I described as my intentions for this rewrite, I accomplished some of them - in particular more stuff to set up Blake joining the Atlesians - but the intention to have more interactions between Ruby and Sunset is almost hilariously ironic.

Nevertheless, I'm proud of what I did, I think a lot of this works better than it did the first time around, in particularly the stuff around Amber at the end here, and also the stuff around Cinder as well, who has grown into one of my absolute favourite characters and whose relationship with Sunset is a pure delight to write.

So, as I say, I'm proud, but also a bit exhausted because I've been working on this exclusively for over a year, it feels like, and I need a break. As a result this story will be going on hiatus for a bit, I can't say exactly how long, before continuing on, I just want to write some other things, do something with the other ideas that have been knocking around in head while SAPR has been at my fingertips.

So, to those of you who have stuck with the series this long, thank you very much and I will definitely see you later - just not this Friday!