The thrill of combat was something Pyrrha Nikos had long since forgotten. She did not find it in Sanctum Academy, nor did she find it in the three times that she participated in the Mistral Regional Tournament. She only hoped that she could find it in Beacon Academy, but deep down, she doubted that.
"Pyrrha."
Her emerald orbs glanced at her coach. The man smiled, eyes shining. It was time.
Miló and Akoúo flung into her hands, from the bench in front of her, with a single use of her Semblance. She stood, fiery hair swaying slightly in the movement.
"I'm ready." She smiled politely.
The roaring of the crowd was familiar to her. She stepped into the field, eyes scanning the seats.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the three time Champion, the Invincible Girl, Pyrrha Nikos!"
The announcer's statement had brought cheers to the crowd, and she gave a smile, coupled with a wave. For show, of course.
"And her challenger, a young man that has plowed through every contestant just to fight her, Jaune Arc!"
Emerald orbs glanced at the opposite end of the field.
She first spotted blonde hair. Then she saw his eyes. Blue on the left, yellow on the right. The next was his outfit. A simple brown hoodie, with blue jeans and sneakers. Covering his arms and legs were simple, silver armor that glinted in the sunlight. Other than that, he had no form of protection. On both of his hands, were two identical swords. They were simple, with silver blades, golden cross guard, and blue hilt with a yellow pommel.
The boy gave a small smile, one that she returned. Her head tilted slightly when the sound of a bell chimed.
The fight had begun.
She settled into her stance, the usual shield forward and blade ready. Usually, her challengers would come rushing at her by this point, only to taste the edge of Miló.
Jaune Arc did not do that.
Her mouth twitched upward. She slowly walked to the left, and he followed to the right. The circled, like predators observing each other curiously. The crowd waited with baited breath.
But Pyrrha was...disappointed. She found holes in his lose stance. In fact, he was not settled in any stance at all. She frowned. Another victory, it seems.
She lunged forward with surprising speed, Miló thrusting forward for a stab-
-His left blade parried.
She stumbled, but caught her footing and brought up Akoúo to block the right blade. It struck, sending shivers down her arms. She twirled, xiphos slashing, but that too was parried. The holes she had seen in his guard had suddenly started to make sense.
Bait. They were bait.
She tried to disengage, but the young Arc would have none of it. He was on her again, right blade slashing downward. Instead of fully blocking with her shield this time, she angled it downwards, and felt a swell of satisfaction when her opponent's blade slide down. She stabbed, but was met again with failure as his blade met Miló's golden edge.
Something weld up inside her. Something she had thought she lost long ago.
A dangerous grin spread upon her beautiful face, and she was delighted when Jaune returned it with one of his own. He lunged forward, blades criss crossing to slash. In response, she stabbed her shield froward, and locked his blades in place with its edge. The whirring of Miló's mechanism reached her ears, and she stabbed the xiphos-turned-javelin forward. Jaune titled his head back, but knew that was a mistake when he was suddenly staring at a gun barrel.
His aura flickered when Pyrrha pulled the trigger, and he stumbled back, blades sliding of her shield harmlessly. She bashed his face with her shield, and watched him stumble back even further. She licked her lips, twirling Miló as it transformed back into its xiphos form and clenching the straps of Akoúo. She could charge in, but she knew that would be a fatal mistake.
The grip on his swords did not loosen, after all.
He was quick to steady himself, eyes narrowed at her. The blue orb was shining with excitement, while the yellow one seemed to...glint. Like a sword under the sun, it was glinting.
She drowned everything out, the roaring of the crowd, the announcer speaking in an excited tone, the way her coach was staring at her...
All that mattered to her, was Jaune Arc. There was a hidden signal between them, and straight sword met xiphos once more.
It was disappointing, really, that she had won once again. What was not disappointing, was the fact that their aura levels were nearly identical. He had made a mistake near the end, and had paid the price through the edge of Akoúo.
Still, it was a pretty close fight. While the Mistral Regional Tournament was a tournament, it had a set of rules. One of those rules, was that the use of Semblance was prohibited. The tournament was designed to showcase people's skills without the help of their Semblance. In the middle of the fight, Pyrrha had, very briefly, used her Semblance to satisfy her curiosity about the materials in his blade (thankfully, no one noticed). The right responded. The left did not.
Her musings were cut off when, amongst the crowds of fans congratulating her in the podium, a voice called out to her.
"Ms. Nikos."
The crowd was shushed, and they parted. Jaune Arc smiled at her, and she now noticed that his sword was strapped in the left side of his hip.
Strangely, his second blade was no where to be found.
"Good match." He continued, looking up at her. "I've never fought someone into a...close call before."
"Ditto." Pyrrha smiled, and stepped down, handling her fourth trophy to her coach. "That stance of yours, however...it's suicidal."
"It works." He argued back, eyebrow quirking up. "You fell for it three or four times."
She did, and the redhead could not hold back a snort. "Perhaps."
"Maybe when we fight once again..." His yellow eye glinted again. "Perhaps, with our Semblance, we shall see who would come out on top."
Her mouth quirked upward even more. "Is that your form of asking me out?"
"Depends on what you view it." Jaune grinned, ignoring the gasp of her fans. "I'll see you later, Nikos."
"You too, Arc." She replied.
Pyrrha watched him leave, and before the crowd could block her view of him, she saw him meet up with a short, blonde haired girl wearing a white blouse, and a long blue skirt.
"You lost."
Jaune Arc, age sixteen, fairly tall and handsome, felt his mood lighten at the sound of his sister's voice.
"It's not that bad, Altria." He looked down, smiling. "With every defeat, comes another way to make yourself stronger."
Her green eyes glared at him. "Has Mordred poisoned you with her battle maniac attitude?"
"I don't know, did you poison me with your kingly personality?"
It was the wrong thing to say, evidently, as she growled like a lion and punched his shoulder. For the rest of the way to the hotel, she was fuming and he was laughing.
"Boredom, alleviated."
An old man smiled mischievously. Red eyes stared at the pair as they entered the hotel for a few more moments, before he turned, cape fluttering dramatically.
"I wonder, what will you do, Jaune Arc? Will you follow the ideals of the man you inherited your powers from, or will you forge your own path?" Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg grinned eagerly. "Either way, I can't wait to see how it plays out!"
So...this is my first fanfic. Ya'll better appreciate this since this kept me up all night!
Leave your feedbacks, and ask some questions if you would. And yes, the Arc sisters are the Saber faces.