The Striding Horse was empty in the late evening on a day perfect for land-based traders to make good headway down the Mistral Trade Route. Not even the regulars from nearby town Halcyon had made the trip to share the stories of their day and recall times of old. It was as unsettling a time as Scypio could recall whilst the bartender wiped down a spotless surface. His black gloves were as clean as when they had come out of the wash this morning; at least he could get away with wearing the same pair tomorrow. It's the little victories that count after recent events.

The fall of Vale played heavy on the minds of everyone across Remnant who had even caught a snippet of events whether by television picture, radio transmission or word of mouth. It took little reasoning to figure out why nobody wanted to go outside of their own homes let alone come along to a place of good times. A mirror hung on the wall opposite to Scypio when he looked up. In two years of working and living at the Horse he had never stopped to notice the slightly cracked piece of furniture. Reflected in the distance he could see the slightly muscular figure of himself dressed up in a casual black jacket. Short brown hair with a small quiff at the front, a distinguished jaw, an air of confidence. Piercing, vivid green eyes looked back at his own for what seemed like minutes until the twenty-year-old pulled away, poured out a glass of his favorite cider and went to sit down in the grand table located in the middle of the room. Mind wandering towards dark thoughts it was almost as if he could afford to cry for a bit.

"You alright there, Scypio?" Questioned Jason who had arrived standing over the table. The slender yet fit, older gentleman had entered unnoticed carrying two full bags. His six-shooter pistols rested in their hip-bound holsters and his relatively deep tone cut through the air. Scypio jumped at the question, snapping out of his trance in a rather unsubtle fashion. "Yes, of course professor." Jason looked back down at his ex-pupil, slightly concerned for the man forty years his junior. The title of 'professor' hadn't crossed his lips for a year and a half. "A perfectly fine individual doesn't call his friend and more relevantly a retired, old man 'professor'!" Jason chuckled. Perusing over the eyes of the young bar man he could see sadness, reflection and the loss of a fire which seemed almost impossible to put out at times. Noticing a faded Beacon logo on the shirt underneath Scypio's jacket, the old man felt a great sense of pity overwhelm him. Placing his groceries down, he went over to the bar and poured out a pint of Havermeyer Lager; a rarely used boost for big occasions. This was going to be a long night and he needed all the help he could get.

Sitting down across the table from Scypio, Jason sipped from his glass and looked upon the young adult. The two had grown so close in the near enough four years they had known each other and as much as he hated to admit it, Scypio looked up to his old teacher as an uncle-like figure. Always there for the guidance he could never quite learn from his parents. Breathing deeply, Jason dived in uncertain of the response he would receive. "It's about Pyrrha, isn't it?" A tear dripped onto the table below the face of a beaten man. Scypio Nikos took his time before rising in his chair, his eyes shimmering whilst they watered up and his usual gung-ho smile was long gone replaced by an uncharacteristic frown of sadness. A person afraid of showing his emotions he chose to gaze away, over towards a window, before turning back to look at Jason. "Yeah..." Having never been in a situation anything like this Jason was deeply unsure of how to proceed. Perhaps trying to relate would be the best direction to go. "What are you feeling, son? I fe-" The interruption was abrupt, sharp and cold but by no means emotionless. Rather the opposite. "She disowned me, Jason. My little sis' thought the one person who she could always trust betrayed her. Not once in these two years did she ever visit me. Not once in these two years did she ever say she loved me. Not once in these two years could I ever say I loved her. Regret, anger, sadness and emptiness is what I'm feeling. It's like black dust continues to burn inside me because Pyrrha is dead and I couldn't protect her."

Scypio's fists clenched on the table. The quietly spoken outburst jarred Jason. He'd never experienced such a professional individual in such a raw state. A wave of relief rushed over the experienced Huntsman though; he'd been accepted and let in. Childhood memories rushed back in bright colors of how his mother in Vacuo had always been there to listen even in his toughest moments through training. If there was any inspiration to be taken from the sixty or so years he had spent on Remnant then surely the woman he had trusted the most would be the person to give it.

"Well firstly, don't you dare go thinking that you could have save-"

Scypio's fists alone almost hit the table through the floor. Giant dents revealed themselves as his chair flew backwards and enraged hands started gesturing. "I COULD HAVE TRIED THOUGH! I COULD HAVE BEEN THERE AND I COULD HAVE TRIED TO SAVE MY SISTER!" The silence that washed over the room was more disturbing than ever. Arms fell to the sides of a warrior who's emotions were spent. A feeble voice escaped the mouth. "I could have tried..."

In all of this, Jason remained seated and calm knowing all too well the feeling of helplessness his friend was experiencing. "If you tell yourself that then you shall never come to terms with her passing, Scypio. I can't stop you from believing what you like but this force we are talking about is the new Fall Maiden at the very least! If reports are to be trusted this giant Grimm dragon seemed to take quite kindly to her by not destroying Beacon tower in the first place so if in the worst case scenario we assume you were not only facing one of the most powerful individuals on the planet but one of the most powerful Grimm in existence then, with all due respect to your abilities, I don't think the two Nikos siblings would stand much of a chance.

His stubborn nature defeated, Scypio breathed a deep sigh before gathering up his chair and returning to the table, his head sunk once again. He knew the truth as much as anyone in the know.

"She meant a lot to you, didn't she? Even after everything that happened?"

"Of course. I didn't talk about her much, I realize that and so I don't expect you to understand, but she was the most perfect sister you could ever hope for. I thrived on seeing her grow into everything I knew she could be."

"She achieved so much of what she wanted though."

"Of course she had and every single person who trains as a Huntsman or Huntress knows the risks when they sign up. Yet even as a relative of someone who has paid the ultimate price, to know that there is no body to bury, no time to mourn properly, no chance she could have survived. I truly feel worthless right now."

Jason looked down at his drink. The bubbles soared through the liquid and it's strong aroma found easy passage through his thin, white goatee and up to his slender nose. It was a real treat, that was for sure. Upon reconsideration however, Jason didn't need it. Now was the time to listen. The old man pushed aside his large glass and placed both elbows on the table, hands clasped into a ball.

"Go on, son. You might as well let it all out. It's okay to not be the rock sometimes."

Scypio looked directly into Jason's misty, blue eyes. "I don't think you realize sometimes how much it pains me to be here, Jason. Exiled from major society and barred from doing your job due to a perceived public opinion. You, I and Ozpin are the only ones to know exactly why this situation is as it is now and receiving the news about Pyrrha's death from Qrow of all people...it was his duty to deliver that information, not his own initiative. I lived a life of excitement and so much potential in every area, seeing my little sister grow up being one of the most anticipated. I led my own team I mean how cool is that? Scypio Nikos the leader of his own squad! Yet now I reside in Halcyon, the vanilla ice cream of Remnant, wilting away as the world falls apart around me. You would never understand the sick feeling churning me up every night even if you tried."

"Then tell me about it, Scypio. Help me understand." A smile broke out across Jason's slightly wrinkled face. "Or am I really that senile already?"

Scypio looked across to the same window and closed is eyes. Breathing deeply, he let out his first smile of the past few days and relaxed back.

"I guess it's best to begin at Sanctum."

A/N

I can't quite believe myself that I have written a piece of fanfiction. A big creative wave just came over me and I simply had to do something about it. If you enjoyed my work then that's really all I could ever ask for. I've only very recently found myself interacting with other parts of the community and it has been such a rewarding experience, to give something back is a fantastic feeling for me even if it is only one and a half thousands words at this stage in time.

Since this was a prologue I intended it to be not too short but very much giving off the aura of an introduction. You have now met the main character of Scypio (pronounced 'Si-pee-oh' for those who are interested or confused) and not only will we be exploring his character but hopefully giving you further insight into established characters with Pyrrha being an evident candidate. Just how long this will go on for is anybody's guess at this rate but for the moment I have a pipeline of six chapters at least.

I'd love to know all of your thoughts if you're willing to share! Hope you all have a lovely day and keep moving forward!

Fun Fact

Although I do not want to spoil too much for the character ahead, Scypio is based off a real person from history. Just consider than Pyrrha is Greek-based and have a ponder of where I might go with that! Maybe he's not Greek-based? Who's knows?! I do.