Glory to The not-so-newborn king. Peace on Remnant, mercy Mild, God and Cinder reconciled… wait, what?

Welcome to a religious tale, fittingly in time for Christmas, in which Jaune Arc discovers his semblance. Well, we already know that Jaune Arc is a reference to Joan d'Arc, the famous French saint. Why not make his semblance just as religious? This is a two-shot, at least for now, meant for humorous purposes only. Second chapter comes tomorrow, because I'm dead tired right now.

So, I should note that I've never actually seen the last episodes of RWBY. I mean, I know what happens, Pyrrha dies and there's Cinder and a dragon and Yang loses an arm and Ruby has magical eyes and all that rot, but I haven't actually watched the episodes. That said, who cares? I've read the summary, that should be good enough. Right?

Also, what genre is it? I have Adventure/Supernatural listed, but I'm not sure if it's right. Whatever, it's like, midnight. I'll fix it later.

Jaune blinked as Pyrrha kissed him. It wasn't exactly a deep kiss, and there was no tongue or the like involved, but it was still filled with emotion. At least, Jaune was pretty sure it was filled with emotion. Though it being his first real kiss because no, his sisters and his mother did not count, he really couldn't say with any real certainty. But at least, it sure felt emotional. Of course, as he was mulling this over in his mind, Pyrrha took the opportunity to stuff him into one of the rocket lockers. The knight didn't even have a chance to protest her going to confront Cinder. With a sad smile, Pyrrha turned away from him and walked towards the stairs.

"Goodbye, Jaune," she whispered, before pushing a button and sending the locker careening off towards Vale. With heavy steps, Pyrrha began the climb up Beacon tower. As she walked her thoughts turned back to all the good times she'd had with her team. Of meeting Jaune, the shy knight. Of Ren and Nora, one silent and one more than willing to make up for that. Of spending time with Team RWBY. The leader and namesake, Ruby, energetic little spitfire she was. Weiss, cold as her name implied and yet soft at heart. Yang, the blond jokester. And Blake, devient though she might have been at times, the fanus was still a good friend. Even the others; Penny, Team CVFY to a degree, Team SSSN, and even CRDL, bigots that they used to be, they were at least trying to be better. And now it was more than likely that she would never see them again. After all, if the Headmaster hadn't been able to best the woman, what choice did she have? Sure, she was the champion of Minstrel, but when compared to a trained huntsman, especially one of Ozpin's caliber, oh-so-invincible Pyrrha Nikos didn't even begin to measure up.

Had the girl bothered to turn around, she may have noticed that a knight clad in white had stumbled out of the locker next to the one she had just launched towards Vale. The teen watched the locker Pyrrha had stuffed him in rocket towards its destination and he gave a sigh of relief.

"Well, it wasn't quite how I expected to figure out a semblance. The timing is convenient, I suppose. Though it is nice that Nikos didn't look back. She might have just stuff 'poor old Jaune Arc' into another locker!" the young man wondered aloud.

With a cheerful grin, Jaune Arc began to climb the stairs after Pyrrha. It's not like he could let her die. How silly of her, to try and leave her boyfriend behind! And he frowned once more. Jaune was her boyfriend, right? Well, all the more reason to find her, so he could ask! He had never been much good at these emotional things, though he laid the blame for that mostly at the feet of his father and sisters. They were such poor influences, really!

Pyrrha gasped in pain as an arrow hammered into her heel, and she fell to the ground. For all her newfound power, she was still nothing compared to Cinder. Of course, she wasn't helpless by any means and the numerous cuts along Cinder's arms and torso were a testament to this fact. But in the end it wasn't enough. They had both worn each other's auras to nothing, though Pyrrha was aware that Ozpin was most likely responsible for most of the damage, but the Maiden's powers did not rely on aura. And Cinder was much more experienced in the use of the Maiden's might. As Pyrrha had expected. Cinder strode forward with smug grin, and raised her hand.

"Too bad, little girl. You tried so hard, but in the end you've learned that no matter what you do. It. Doesn't. Matter." The woman punctuated her words with kicks to Pyrrha's ribs, making the girl gasp in pain. With a sigh, Cinder called forth an arrow of flames. Pyrrha squeezed her eyes closed as her death was placed upon a taut bowstring. "Die, knowing your death was futi-urk!"

Pyrrha's eyes opened in surprise, and she took in the sight of Cinder fall stumbling away, a familiar sword buried in her gut.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha gasped, turning to look towards the door. Jaune Arc stood there, a cheerful grin on his face.

"Now, I find calling things futile is such a bore. After all, when you begin to consider one thing futile, then life itself begins to become futile. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, humans are so insignificant that nothing they do truly matters! In the end, we will all die and that will be that. I tend to look at things from a different perspective. If you do the extent of what you can, and do it with no regrets, than that is a thing worth doing. For instance, you fought Ms. Fall here as best you can. You lost, but that is only a failure, it is not futile." With a carefree shrug, Jaune Arc waved towards the large glass windows.

He continued speaking, as if he was oblivious of Cinder's growing anger. "Not to say that some things are not futile. Throwing yourself off out of this window and hoping to fly would be futile. And stupid. Fighting a weakened opponent in the hopes of protecting your friends even when the odds are stacked against you is idiocy. But at the same time it is bravery, courage, and honor."

Cinder wrenched Jaune's sword out of her body and tossed it to the side with a grunt of pain. With a single motion, the woman's flesh began to knit back together, until nothing was left except a tear in her dress to show that she had been injured in the first place. She glared at Jaune.

"Honor? Bravery? Courage? You, Jaune Arc, would lecture me on honor, on bravery, on courage? I had courage, I had honor, I had bravery! I bled for it, and I lost everything in such useless pursuits! A ship does not sail into the teeth of the storm, yet oh so brave Pyrrha Nikos would test its hull against the tempest squall! That is not bravery, that is foolishness at its purest form!"

Jaune smiled. It was a smile full of the purest innocence; full of hope, of joy, of faith. "Ms. Cinder Fall, I tell you that Ms. Pyrrha Nikos is no fool."

Pyrrha frowned. "You're not… Jaune," the girl managed to get out, even though her ribs and heel were throbbing with pain.

Jaune, or not-Jaune, as Pyrrha now knew him to be blinked.

"Oh? How hurtful to say such a thing. I am Jaune Arc."

Pyrrha shook her head. "No… Jaune would never… call me Ms. Pyrrha Nikos… Pyrrha at a stretch. Maybe even Ms. Pyrrha. But not… Nikos. Never Nikos…" The girl had managed to pull herself to a sitting position, reclining against some nearby rubble, holding her midriff in pain.

"You truly are a good friend. To notice that, I suppose that's my fault. I didn't look deep enough, I'd wager. Then again, I wasn't truly trying."

"Who are… you?" Pyrrha managed to gasp out, though her face was clearly twisted in agony.

With a roar of anger, wings of scorching hot fire burning into the night sky. They illuminated the darkness, shining forth from Beacon tower, as if they were, well, a beacon. And they lit up the countless forms of a swarm of Grimm beyond counting which was descending upon Vale. The wings of Nevermore darkened the skies with their sheer number, the hoards of Ursa and Beowulf and Creeps covered the ground in an endless tide of darkness. And beyond them all, a great dragon flew. Its wings would have cast the earth into shadow, had it not been night.

"Who cares?" Cinder roared, tired of being ignored. She rose into the inky midnight blackness upon her wings. "Jaune Arc, not Jaune Arc, either way, you're dead!"

Jaune glanced at her and glanced at the flood of certain doom which came towards him. With a fond sigh, he turned his attention to Cinder Fall.

"I apologize for ignoring you. It was not my intention. I was just caught up in how familiar this scene is. Though at that time they were more of crows, rather than ravens, that filled the skies. Oh, but I hope you'll forgive me for not paying you the attention you are due, Ms. Fall?"

Cinder's eyes narrowed in anger. "You arrogant little brat! Burn in Hell!"

Flames burst forth from her hands. Pyrrha flinched at the sheer heat that the torrent of roaring fire gave off, in spite of how the conflagration was not aimed at her. The cold stone tower, finely crafted and imbued with aura to make it more resistant to the elements, simply melted before the all-consuming flames.

Cinder was already turning away, certain that no one could survive that. And for her part, Pyrrha was in agreement. Semblance or no, aura or no, Jaune could not have survived that. Flames lit in Cinder's hands.

"Now it's your turn to die, foolish little Nikos."

"Excuse me. But I thought I told you that Ms. Nikos wasn't a fool?" Both women spun towards the source of the voice. Jaune stood there, no worse for wear. Though the ground he stood on was scorched into liquid slag, he simply frowned. "They say fools walk where Angels fear to tread? Well then, let me show you why Ms. Nikos is no fool."

Even as he spoke, Cinder was sending a stream of fire to devour him once more. Jaune raised a hand. And he snapped. And with that, Cinder FELL. Her wings of fire blinked out of existence, as did the flames she had conjured, and she was hurled savagely earthward, as if some great hand had flung her from the skies. With a sickening crack, Cinder hit the ground next to Pyrrha, one leg twisting at the wrong angle. And Jaune Arc strode forward. What drew Pyrrha's attention was the wings of the purest white which extended behind him.

"What…" Cinder managed to struggle to her feet, and in spite of her hate of the woman, Pyrrha had to acknowledge her tenacity. "What in Oum's name are you?"

Jaune smiled softly at her. "Not Oum. I serve a God, yes, but not your God. I told you I am Jaune Arc, Ms. Nikos, and I did not lie. After all, that would be a sin. I am Jaune Arc, at least in body. But in mind and soul? Then, at least for a while longer, I was, and am, known by a different name. The Invincible Warrior; Archangel Michael, the Strength of God."

And in that moment, Pyrrha believed. The sheer righteousness, the absolute power and presence that the being who inhabited Jaune's body gave off left no other option. It was not that the man spoke the truth, but rather what he spoke was the truth by virtue of his saying it. For her part, Cinder had a different reaction.

"No. No, impossible! You and your kind are dead! Salem said so! The White God is dead! The Gates are torn asunder! The Legions of Light, scattered to the winds!"

Jaune, or rather Michael, frowned. "I thought the power around your smelled familiar. Salem you say? I know the name, though when I was still Hand of God we knew him, or her now, I suppose, by a different title. Samael, we called it. The poisonous snake of Eden." Shaking his head, Michael gazed sadly at Cinder. "It is a pity that your potential was lost to that traitor."

Cinder snarled at him. "Traitor? You dare call Salem a traitor, when you have betrayed humanity? Now you come to the help of the Arc and his girlfriend, but where were you when I needed you? Where were you when I was a child, alone on the streets? When I was found by him! Where were you paragons of light, when Salem saved me? So do not lecture me on my mistakes, when you have made oh so many of your own!"

Michael's eyes grew sad. "God created us as if we were of him, perfection taken form. But for all his trying, we were not. Perfect, that is. We Archangels are Flawless, but we are not omniscient. And that is why I will let you live, Ms. Cinder Fall. Think on your sins, or do not. Next time we meet, you shall either repent or you shall be broken at my feet. But I can, at least, give you a few more months, even years perhaps. Leave this place now. Your plans against Vale have failed."

"Oh?" Cinder raised an eyebrow. "Rather, you cannot kill me. Do not make it seem like some great mercy. The Old Laws prevent you from ending me."

Michael sighed. "Arrogance is a sin. I could kill with a single word."

A razor sharp scythe blade was placed at Cinder's throat, stopping her response. Pyrrha blinked at the sight of little Ruby Rose, weapon ready to end Cinder's life. The cross which the red reaper wore around her neck burned as bright as the noonday sun.

"It is nice," Michael smiled, "To still have followers who still hold some faith. Now then, leave this place, Cinder Fall. Run back to your master. And tell that Snake that I will end it."

Cinder slowly nodded her agreement and Michael motioned for the scythe to be removed. Ruby did so without complaint, kneeling before the winged man. He smiled softly at her, before turning his glare upon Cinder.

"Go. Now."

With that, the woman disappeared into ashes, which quickly swept towards some place that only she knew. For his part, Michael sighed.

"Ms. Pyrrha Nikos, Ms. Ruby Rose. When Jaune wakes, feel free to ask him what has transpired. He knows in greater depth than I have time to explain. It is a result of his semblance, but also of his lineage. My time grows short. I have one thing left to do. And please, do not expect my assistance any time in the future. It is taxing enough as is."

With that, the Archangel strode forwards and raised a hand towards the sky. And he spoke.

Ohr Ein Sof

And the world was bathed in light, and Pyrrha Nikos knew no more.