With Your Shield or On It
This whole thing felt like a very bad dream. The Grimm attacking the school, Vale and the rest of the kingdoms in an uproar over the loss of communication, and now having to deal with losing the one person I was too blind to notice really cared for me. I prayed that this was in fact a dream, and that I'd wake up on the verge of or in tears to see her sleeping soundly in her bed, scarlet tresses fanned over her pillow and framing her face. I'd then take her in my arms and kiss her like she had me, apologizing for being so very blind, and everything would be right again.
"Jaune," a soft voice whispers. I look up at my sister Bridgette, who smiles at me weakly as she hands me a bowl of soup. "Here, eat this; mom's orders."
After the fall of Beacon, my eldest sister came to get Ren, Nora, and I. Home, also known as the island of Vytal, had been turned into a neutral zone for refugees. Amidy had taken Ren and Nora to their home, and had hardly been home since the fall, what with her being a pilot and all, but then again, it's not like I was in the mood for company at the moment.
Stirring my soup half-heartedly, I took a couple spoonfuls before pushing it away roughly, the contents slipping over the sides of the bowl. One of the twins took it away, probably to give it to someone else (in times like this, people aren't as stingy with food, I've found), but not before shooting me a look that told me she'd be telling Mom. At this moment, I didn't really care.
The hall echoed with the muffled cries and conversations of the refugees from Vale. A cease fire had been incited on the island, yet Atlesians still kept their distance from the general public. Even for those that had witnessed it, confusion was prevalent, and everyone agreed that stirring up more strife was not needed. I think everyone was just tired of it all and were in enough shock to comply with each other until they got home.
People began to stream into the hall, a new batch of migrants trying to get home. Judging from their faces and lack of Atlesian air, they were from the other kingdoms, probably students deported after the communications were cut. I stood and started to wander, leaving my place for someone else.
It took awhile, but I eventually found a lonely corner to hide in, far away from the 'company' of others. I pulled my knees to my chest, resting my forehead against them, and sobbed.
Why had all of this happened? Just days ago, the eight of us, teams RWBY and JNPR, had been enjoying a meal as the festival began, and now…
I could see their faces again, clear as day. I don't think I could have forgotten them if I tried. Nora's normally electric cyan eyes were glassed over as she hugged her broken and bruised body, her mind lost in the recesses of itself. Ren struggled to stand as he held one hand over a bleeding wound while the other held his teammate close, whispering something to her. His fuchsia eyes looked at me, broken, and turned away. Blake came next, walking beside Yang, who was in a stretcher. The raven haired girl muttered apologies over and over, tears carving canyons on her already tear-stained face. The blonde on the stretcher…I remembered first meeting her; fiery, bold, a fighter. Seeing her like this, so weak, her one arm ending in a bloody stump, I retched. What the heck had happened to them?
Ruby didn't come to the safe zone until after the flash of light. I begged the man that carried her for answers, to tell me where Pyrrha was. His garnet eyes were tired, angry, but displayed sympathy to me.
"There were no other survivors at the tower."
I bit my lip until it bled to keep from screaming like I had that day. Such an outburst would only cause panic. Biting harder, I threw my fist over my shoulder with all the strength I could muster 'til it met the rough surface of the brick. Something in my hand cracked and I bit back another scream, yet relished in the welcomed pain to ground me to the present.
"Excuse me," a deeper voice asks sometime later.
I look up; the man in front of me is a couple years my senior, with deep mahogany hair and eyes of the dawn. A refugee, judging from the rustled look of his attire, and a well to do one at that, I note from remnants of the suit he's still wearing.
"Are you Jaune Arc?"
I look past the man for a moment and notice my sister, Georgie, disappearing into the shadows, before taking his hand. I scowl as I feel a slightly familiar aura signature fix the damage in my hand as he helps me to my feet.
"Yes sir," I mutter. Or what's left of him, at least.
He bows slightly at the waist, surprising me. He does have the right Jaune Arc, right?
"It's pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so many wonderful things about you." He definitely has the wrong guy. "My name is Apollo; I'm Pyrrha's older brother."
At the sound of her name, my blood is ice, my hands clench into fists, and tears run down my cheeks in silent streams again.
"I am so sorry."
His hand falls heavy on my shoulder, radiating heat. I look up at him and notice tears in his own red rimmed eyes.
"I do not blame you for anything," he whispers. I let out quiet sobs. "I know Pyrrha wouldn't either. She really cared about you, you know."
I whisper apologies time and time again, mumbling, sobbing, and shaking. Apollo cries silently with me as well, and there's a silent understanding of mourning.
"I'm so sorry."
"It's ok; there's nothing you could have done."
"I could have helped her…could have stopped her."
He laughs lightly. "I know my sister, Jaune; when she's set her mind to something, she gets it done, no matter what."
I nod silently.
"Anyway, the reason I came was first, I needed to meet you. She told me so many wonderful things about you, Ren, and Nora in the letters she wrote us. I had wanted to come to the festival, but then, with everything…" He clears his throat again and digs for something from his pocket. "I have something I wanted to give Pyrrha for luck, but I think you should have it."
He opens his hand, and in his palm rests a small circular pendant, Pyrrha's emblem shining in gold and scarlet. I bite my lip as I accept it, turning the cool metal over in my hand.
"What does this mean?" I ask, indicating the inscription on the back.
"ἢ τὰν ἢ ἐπὶ τᾶς," he says, the foreign tongue natural to him. "It's an old saying, from the early Mistral seaside cities. It roughly translates 'Either with your shield, or on it.'"
I curl my hand over the pendant tightly as my heart freezes over, an anchor to the hell my life has become and the sick sense of irony the world has. I wasn't sure how she had died, but she was alone, and that was all that mattered.
"Pyrrha loved that saying; she took it as either give it everything you have, or it means nothing in the end." His hand clasps my shoulder. "It's cruel, I know, but she got that pendant the eve of discovering her semblance and her first big tournament win…My family has plenty to remember her by, but with Vale and Beacon under siege…"
"Thank you," I whisper. "If there's anything that I can do for you…"
"Well," he smiles sheepishly, "I was in Atlas when everything went down, and I'm having a hard time getting home. I've managed to get word to my parents about everything that's happened, but I really need to be there with them right now."
I nod, understanding. "My sister's a pilot; just talk to the girl who brought you here. She'll help you find someone if my sister can't take you."
"Thank you, Jaune, for everything." He bows again. "I hope our paths pass again, on better terms." He turns and walks off to find Georgie.
As he leaves, I turn the pendant over in my hand, my lips warm as I remember her goodbye kiss. I slip the pendant on and look at the back before settling against my chest.
"I'll find who did this, Pyrrha," I mouth silently clutching the pendant tightly, a tear running down my cheek, but my heart steadfast and angry "and I'll stop them. I promise."